Sunday in Pictures

i like this quaint and actually quite fancy little place in the Natete market. it seems abandoned. 

Natete Clothier

Seamstress making pleated skirts for school uniforms

clothing auction

clothing auction

coal

market

peanuts

my market find, a shallow basket $2.00

Pemba Shoe Store 

Zito

The afternoon gang

I am headed to school now. Rains yesterday have left everything so muddy. Waiting on the hot African sun to soak it all up.

pictorial this week

Ishmael teaching on Cholera. Later Francisco and 5 other students performed a skit about how it is spread. Candid but good.

The day I got the scooter I drove her out to the beach and watched this electrical storm.

Personalized License Plate

Murreubue

Daydreaming with Emelyn about all that we can do!

Leaving Murreubue

No words.

Wednesday

Classes today went well. Yesterday afternoon we were able to talk to Carmen Bennett’s class in Louisville, GA. I talked to the kids beforehand about how Louisville was rural, and how many of the students were black like them. I explained how in American culture not every child lives with both their mom and their dad, just like them. Carmen sent pictures and they were giddy to see a black student, Josh, with corn rows. They loved them. They said he looked like Snoop Dog. Whoever that is. :) I was shocked to find out that most of my students are little Evangelists. They kept wanting to ask them questions about Jesus. Which is all fine and good but I felt sorry for Carmen over there in Public School Land having to ask her children about how long they have known Jesus. But I was quite proud of my little pastors. They liked hearing the accents and and were proud of themselves for being able to understand and translate. It was a fun lesson. I still have not heard if our letters have arrived or not but they ask me daily about them and are awaiting their replies. 

My afternoon class is about half the size of the morning one. The morning class is slowly getting out of control. Just way too many. We need help. I am such a mother hen though and I don’t want to turn them over to just anyone. Today I laughed when we were practicing CAN, MAY, SHALL etc. We have been studying this for two weeks and will be on it for awhile. I often praise them with correct responses, just to boost some confidence and get them comfortable speaking. I chose two students to come up front with the instructions of one asking MAY I ...and the other answering YES, YOU MAY. I have completely forgotten how to play Mother May I, but that game might come in handy. I cannot believe I have forgotten that. Oh wait. It is coming back to me now. Yikes, we may have to try that tomorrow. But here we were up front. Chawale always takes forever and clears his throat over and over and stands up big and tall and clears his throat again. The kids laugh. He says, “May I borrow your pen. Good job”. I want to tell him that the “good job” part doesn’t belong but I can’t bring myself to correct him. The other student answers, “Yes, you may. Excellent”. I laughed. And of course told them, “That was perfect”. Even though it wasn’t. I appreciate their efforts. I see the pain on their faces when they know they have messed up. I feel my own pit in my stomach when I haven’t a clue what to say in Portuguese. 

I do have to say that today I realized how much those dreaded lessons paid off for me. I am still rubbish at the language but without fail when I have needed to really explain something, I have the parallel Portuguese I need to show them one language vs the other. I had several big moments today when I saw myself pouring over those lessons with Lincoln, paying all that money and was so glad I did that. (I took private Portuguese lessons for months before arriving at something like $50 an hour. But I knew I needed to get my head around the language and now I can understand and write way better than I can speak). 

I have contacts now with all major hotels here. I am hoping to start taking my students there as part of our lessons. The morning students will be impossible because there are too many of them and too few of me. But the afternoon class is feasible. I would like to start taking them on field trips where we simply volunteer and make beds and prep food and do whatever needs to be done to 1) train them 2) teach them a language 3) create relationship with local businesses 4) allow the students to build relationship with management to get jobs!

Meanwhile I have several other big projects I want to work on but find myself doing this for now. I am trying to rest and not overdo it all and take a look back at all this great fruit that I am able to see around me daily. I was once told that I may never see the value I have here and it may be generations away. I am fine with that and willing to never see the return on my investment. But I see it even now. I get to see these kids every day and simply speak good into their lives. They hang on to every word I say. We cut up and laugh together. We are becoming quite a little family. Today I found out which one of the twins was born first. And we had a nice long discussion on birth order. I can pick out the bossy ones and the whiney ones and which ones are the baby vs first born. I love getting to see their personalities. They are all so incredibly unique. I need to introduce them to you and have them introduce themselves. We will work on that. It may never happen but I hope it does. 

Today was a good day, a productive, fruitful day. 

I love, love hearing from you. Write when you can. 

Old Scoot New Scoot

i'm the owner of a bright yellow scooter!

A few weeks ago I was going to a dinner for “Women of Pemba”, a gathering of Ex Pats at a local restaurant. Applying make-up,  I was talking to my niece Catherine, age 15, via Voxer (the greatest app ever invented). She asked my plans for the evening and I told her. She offered advice as I would to her and encouraged me in my efforts to meet new friends. Then she said, “maybe one of them will have a car”. I had not realized my complaints of being without transport had made it quite that far. But apparently they have. And fortunately for me, you heard my cries. Cokesbury UMC and Hartwell First Baptist Church bought me WHEELS!!!

When I first arrived in Pemba, October 2011, I went to Osman’s (the Wal-Mart of Pemba) and bought a small 50cc scooter. It cost about $500 and I spent at least that in repairs the following year. The tiny tires were often flat and every attempt to go anywhere resulted in flat tires or breaking down on the side of the road. The first time I took it in for repairs the mechanic stripped it completely of anything valuable, replaced the battery with a cheaper one and tied it back together with string. I took it back to Osman for repairs and he kept it for over a month and charged me $300, of which I had to pay when I returned last month. 

Driving here is crazy dangerous. Every road is filled with potholes and drivers abide by no rules. I have seen countless accidents. Really bad ones with crumpled motorcycles in the middle of the road. Yet, owning a car here is time consuming, complex and expensive. Our ministry cars are often discovered as stolen and then repossessed. Mechanics can’t always be trusted. Parts are not always in supply. Paperwork and documents are huge hassles. Petrol isn’t cheap. So my only options for transport are scooter/motorbikes and walking. I’ve been walking for the past month. This scooter is way better. There apparently were only 2 in the whole town. Made in China Motorcycles are in most of the shops but 6 months later, they all look the same, falling apart, money pits. I pray this purchase is not the same. It seems a little more sturdy and has a bigger engine. It is 125cc’s and it will scoot. It will go up hills and the brakes work! As do the headlights. I am ecstatic really. I went to the little South African market on my first day and met a friend for coffee. I can fit a pineapple, four apples, and two avocado in the compartment under the seat. I was able to even pick up a friend yesterday and the two of us ride out to the beach for the day. I have friends and food! I can finally get wherever I need to go. Walking isn’t always an option. I am still in danger of being robbed whenever I carry anything on my person and sometimes even empty handed. Walking at night is out of the question. Having this scooter gives me incredible freedom and the ability to go to town to buy food and opens doors for a whole new world. Words cannot express my gratitude. I had resigned to relying on friends with cars and taxi’s but Cokesbury UMC and Hartwell First Baptist saw otherwise. I wish I could take you all for a spin and show you my utter joy and thankfulness. Blown away by your kindness. “Thank you” seems so small. Photos to come!

Tozer

God is a Person, and in the deep of His mighty nature He thinks, wills, enjoys, feels, loves, desires and suffers as any other person may. In making Himself known to us He stays by the familiar pattern of personality. He communicates with us through the avenues of our minds, our wills and our emotions. The continuous and unembarrassed interchange of love and thought between God and the soul of the redeemed man is the throbbing heart of the New Testament. AW Tozer The Pursuit of God

how to cook matapa with veronica

ingredients:
peanuts 1/2 cup (or cashews) crushed
coconut milk 1 can
1 large bundle of kale
3 small onions
1 medium bell pepper

crush peanuts with a small wooden hand carved mortar and pestle or if you want to see Veronica squeal use a food processor :)
wash kale extremely thoroughly and don't freak out when you see a worm or two. maybe even soak kale in a little diluted bleach water since the cholera outbreak and all. cut greens into small pieces. i start mine by cutting them julienne and go from there. cover kale in water and bring to a boil. (you can use any combination of any leafy greans. spinach, collard greens, etc. mix and match.) cover.  after boiling for a few minutes, stir and add the onion and peppers. cover again. let that cook for maybe 8 minutes or more and then add peanuts and coconut milk. the original recipe calls for oil but i don't think it needs it or that it is good for you. the peanuts and the coconut suffice. add salt. boil on medium until water boils off and you are left with the greens just covered in broth.
serve over rice.

you will need to know the Portuguese word "queimar"- to burn

i taught Veronica the English word "smile" and she taught me "sorrir" 

scoot

i am hoping today is the day! i have scrounged together money from various sources (the ATM will only let me take out a certain amount each day) and have the huge wad of meticais for the transaction. the problem now is even finding one in town for sale. i went to all possible places last week and only found one and it is way overpriced. i am going in today to bargain. regardless, i need wheels and have long given up on ever finding a deal in Pemba. i could wait another month for a shipment to arrive from Nampula or go myself. but that will most likely not happen. i test drove a friends yesterday. it is SO different from what i have now. the cadillac of cheap made in china scooters. it will change my life. it's fancy. can't wait!

the truth

I’m reading this book, Kisses from Katie. Based on the title I would never have selected this book on my own. My last read was entitled Paris in Love: A Memoir, preceded by the NYT bestseller about the affair with JFK. But I had heard of her from another missionary here and knew her basic bio, a girl who moved to Uganda and adopted a bunch of kids. I knew she kept a blog but have never read it. While home I saw her book in a Christian bookstore, decided to download on my kindle simply to read about how someone else copes with life outside their own culture. We have these conversations here all the time in the daily comments about how we crave Starbucks and the mall. But I knew I needed to read her story. I wasn’t sure if I could relate. Adopting children?! From page one it seemed that much of her story was my own. So much of her perceptions and emotions are identical to mine. I still see her as incredibly amazing as she has completely sold out and given her entire life to these girls in Uganda. Meanwhile I have a tentative, but uncertain, exit plan.

I’ve highlighted entire pages. Here are some that I have to share.

“People often ask if I think my life is dangerous, if I am afraid. I am much more afraid of remaining comfortable. Matthew 10:28 tells us not to fear things that can destroy the body but things that can destroy the would. I am surrounded by things that can destroy the body. I interact almost daily with people who have deadly diseases, and many times I am the only person who can help them.  I live in a country with one of the world’s longest-running wars taking place just a few hours away.  Uncertainly is everywhere. But I am living in the midst of the uncertainty and risk, amid things that can and do bring physical destruction, because I am running from things that can destroy my soul: complacency, comfort and ignorance. I am much more terrified of living a comfortable life in a self-serving society and failing to follow Jesus than I am of any illness or tragedy”. 

So true. Mozambique is a little better than Uganda. My students are healthy for the most part (malaria and AIDS are huge threats). There is no war (but there was). But I know this feeling of terror. I’ve often said God orchestrated this entire place and the series of events that brought me here just to simply show me His goodness. He wanted to set up the perfect environment to show me how well He can take care of me and settle it once in for all in my heart so that wherever we go, I can do life with Him. I love my culture but it is absolutely without a doubt a self-serving society. It has strong points. My society has generously sent me here. But I know who I am when I live in that culture. I know that my dependency falls on my pay check and my car with four wheels. I know my life of living here and being solely dependent upon Him and watching others trust Him with their lives completely, has changed me. “Complacency, comfort and ignorance” frighten me. And I am honored I get to live this wild, insane life of being stretched daily. And as much as I adore my culture, I never want to be complacent and I want the poor to always be a priority in my life, as God has called us to feed His sheep. I want to value the human race the way He does. In the West we are quick to judge, accuse others of being lazy, not taking advantage of opportunities, making poor choices. I say, “we”. I mean “I”. But I know what He says about judging. And I have learned from the generosity of all of you who give to me, about how He speaks. I cannot count the times, many of  you once strangers, came to me with a check and the same message, “God put you on my heart and I want you to have this”. He will forever put people on our hearts because people are constantly on His heart. “Feed my sheep”. He doesn’t say to feed his socially responsible sheep. Or to only invest in the sheep that will be good stewards. He means every smelly, stubborn ram and ewe who are hungry, a hunger so much more than physical. 

She goes on to to share her story of taking in young girls, being given a home, starting a huge school, and a non-profit. She saw the incredible need and linked it with the resources so abundantly available in the West. I am fully aware of the current US economy and the lack and the loss. But it all pales when you come here. I also know how upside down God is and how to get you have to give. He honors sacrifice. You can never out give Him. I recently gave deeply because of my complete faith in that concept. Most all of you are the ones who have taught me that. I have watched you give to me so faithfully, giving your hard earned dollars to fund a little teacher in a little school in a poor, poor place. I have seen Him give it all back and then some. I gave deeply because I am learning that it is not mine to begin with. You have taught me that too. This living on donations from others has taught me that lesson. It’s an awkward one but it has taught me. 

Katie named her organization Truth. She talks about the “truth” behind each of her students. That the truth is that they are hungry, dying, starving, malnourished, abducted child soldiers, unloved and uncared for. My students fit into some of these categories. “The truth is that the 143 million orphaned children and the 11 million who starve to death or die from preventable diseases and the 8.5 million who work as child slaves, prostitutes, or under other horrific conditions and the 2.3 million who live with HIV add up to the 164.8 million needy children. And though at first glance that looks like a big number, 2.1 billion people on this earth proclaim to be Christians. The truth is that if only 8 percent of the Christians would care for one more child, there would not be any statistics left”. We have a responsibility as Christians. The other really neat truth is children who are well cared for and loved grow into healthy adults who are leaders themselves, who themselves love others. An entire nation can be changed in one generation.  I claim that daily over my little tribe. I pray for one leader to step forward, for one young person to get the revelation of love, to be transformed, to step into his destiny. 

Lastly she talks about going “home”. This is one I wrestle with, the living in two worlds. She writes, “When I returned to Uganda...I didn’t feel so far away from my parents and my former life anymore.  I had learned while being ‘home’ in America and away from ‘home’ in Uganda just how small this earth really is.  It was as if the two worlds I had been living in had finally merged a bit and I was discovering just how great a distance love can bridge. God really does have the whole world sitting in the palm of His hand. All of us are, literally, neighbors.  With the simple purchase of a plane ticket, I can get from my house in the village to my parents' living room in twenty-four hours. And I could get back to Jinja from Brentwood in twenty-four hours as well. People tell me they miss me  they think i am so far away. But I’m not. I’m right here, on the same earth as everybody else, doing what I know to do to make it a little bit better.

In Uganda, as in all the nations of the earth, human beings are hungry for God; they long to live lives filled with purpose and love. They want to be able to support their families; they want to be able to work; they want to be able to give back and to be good, noble people. They ant to feel important and needed and beautiful. Children want to play, eat, learn and be loved. We are all the same. We do not live in different worlds; we live in the same world”. 

I needed to hear this this week. While life seems to be passing me by as my family and friends move along without me, I needed this spoken to my mind, my will and my emotions today. Natty turns 5 this week and I won’t be there to eat cake. Laura is due to give birth to another baby girl any minute now and I won’t get to hold her. Last night, Christine went to the outlet mall without me!  But we are not so far away. I am just right here, right where I am supposed to be, doing all I know to do (often one day at a time) to “make it a little bit better”. And I the very same time, being made a little better myself. 

patience is a virtue. i don't have it so much.

Such a frustrating day. Carmen and Suzanne, Georgia Middle School teachers and Hartwell friends, had both contacted me about doing things with their students. As has Giselle from Cobb County and Amy Eaves in Hartwell (I have not forgotten). Carmen and Suzanne and I finally got something together. We decided that my students would write to their students. A visitor is here from America and is leaving tomorrow. I have sent the letters with him. Suzanne’s students will email me and Carmen’s are going to send PowerPoint presentations about themselves! So I had the task of having my students put pen to paper and to actually write a letter. Something I don’t think any of them had ever done before. I don’t even think any of them had even ever seen a letter before. I am forever just blown away about the things about which they have not a clue. Yet they have endured so much. They’ve seen death and hunger and poverty, but not a letter. I am telling you all of this to vent my frustrations with myself and teaching skills, not with them. 

I began the lesson by asking them what questions they would have for another student from America, if they were here with us. I get blank stares. I ask in Portuguese and I call on someone. He answers, “My name is Anselmo”. Great start. Ok. Next? No one. I call on someone. No answer. They stare at the blank chalk board. I say for the millionth time this week, “How ‘bout” and I add” ‘I have __brothers and __ sisters.’” They nod. “What else?” I ask in English, then Portuguese. Stares. And these are my intermediate and advanced level students. After 15 minutes I give up. I write out the entire letter myself, leaving blanks for them to fill in about themselves. They copy the entire letter complete with the blanks. One of my most prized students even signed his letter with MY name as I had done in the example on the board. Oh my. I go around to each student and help them fill in the blanks. I had gone over every word, giving them the vocabulary in their own language and still they remained confused. I did give them some tough questions about what they dream about and what they fear. Many left those blank. They take the meaning of dreams literally. Many fear cholera and malaria and AIDS. Nothing that our kids in America do. 

After those letters I was so utterly disappointed. I thought we were making huge strides. But I have to remember that this culture doesn’t really write. Their heart language is not really a written one. This culture doesn’t read thick novels at the breakfast table. Their daddy’s didn’t take them to the library before dinner and carry them on their shoulders. He didn’t tuck them in and recite Greek Mythology. I have compete sympathy for them but I don’t know where to begin. 

In the afternoon class I taught the beginner class. Half of them could not read. They won’t tell me that but I can tell. They stare at the board or look at what they’ve copied but I can tell that they cannot read it. How in the world can I teach a third language to a child who cannot read? I learned to “speak” Portuguese based on reading and building sentences from learning verbs. All written. All charts of conjugated verbs. Flash cards. I can’t just hear it and know it, I have to see it written down. Say it 100 times. Use it in a sentence another 100 and then maybe I can get it. So my empathy for foreign language is real. And I know they learn orally. But how to teach it orally is beyond me. I began teaching the beginner class the way I have been for a year now. But these are all new faces. I got blank stares. I get the occasional know-it-all, who completely messes everything up and I have to silence him. Adele starts to do vocabulary with the intermediate group and pulls out the dictionaries. We only have 6 of them. I wave my students over there to look. 6 students or more all around 1 picture dictionary. I have a teachers guide that is only in English. I am following along. Felismina is sitting alone beside me. A nonreader. I cannot even begin to tell you about her life and the things I know. I will save her story for when I see you. It’s horrible. I love her smile. She sits so close. I open the book and it is showing me pictures of large and small, soft and hard, big and little.. A hand, a chair, a book. I speak each word and she repeats. I go over and over and over 3 nouns. Hand, Book, Chair. Hand. Book.  Chair. “an”. “bookee”. “shurrr”. “an”. “buukee”. “shaarrr”. Oh my. Confident that my pronunciation of m˜ao, livro and cadeira is way off, I understand. But I don’t know how I can ever get her to grasp it all. Daily my patience is tried just by living here, but throw in teaching English as a Second Language and I am drowning in it.

Every time I am reminded about the time Catherine, my gorgeous niece at about age 10 was spending the night with me. We were lying in bed in the dark talking about life. I summarized our musings with “We all have our strengths and weaknesses”. Trying to encourage her not to compare herself to others. She replies with, “Yea, like everybody knows you’re not patient”. I stifled a laugh. Everybody? Really? 

So as I sat on that narrow wooden bench today, looking into those precious big brown eyes, reciting, “hand. book. chair”. I kept thinking, “I am patient. I am patient. I am patient. I am flippin’ patient, dangit”. And then I laugh. And she does too. And we hug. And I sweat. And I come home and read a fat paperback at the dinner table and eat cold cucumbers and I thank God that I had time with Felismina today, that I get to encourage her and celebrate those moments when I wave my fingers and she exclaims, “Fingerershes”. So glad she was with me this day and I call her friend. 

But Lord I need some revelation and yes, a little more patience. 

So Suzanne and Carmen, I hope your students enjoy our letters. “We are looking forward to hearing from you”. I was asked 56 times today what this means and 56 times I explained it. Help me, Jesus. 

XO

Pen pals

Never in my wildest dreams while I was playing basketball with Carmen Cooper and Suzanne Milner, as a child did I envision us all becoming teachers and our students one day exchanging letters, from Africa. So neat.

How we roll

i live for the weekend.

Saturday again. My day for writing and resting and bathing. I’ve just hung my head over the shower and used the hose to wash my hair and slowly prepare myself for the cold water to clean my body. My hair is still in a heavy towel. This morning I took Scoot to the beach. We went to the little sad hotel. The one with the tennis courts. The place is starting to remind me of Cumberland’s Dungeoness. Abandoned ruins. It is such a pitiful little place. From afar it looks regal and I think it even boasts a 5 star rating. But it is dingy and falling apart and sad. 

There is a small patch of lush greens just off the parking lot. The birds all unidentifiable but their calls are so enchanting. I like standing there, listening. One lone tree boasts a tag identifying its species, revealing good intentions. Centipedes,  millipedes, frogs, preying mantis, spiders, line the pathway through the corridors of the hotel. The lady in the gift shop is in the same position she always is, leaning on one arm, gazing out the door; same stock of goods as last year. Hotel California runs through my head. I head straight for the beach and walk down the saggy faded wooden steps to the beach. I watch the tide and soak it in. The waves crash. I spread my oversized towel and sit with my legs crossed. I pull out my Kindle and read as the tide draws closer to my toes. I watch the tide in between chapters and decide I am only moments away from getting wet. I grab my things and find a broken plastic lawn chair and sit there for another hour, reading, piping in music from my iPod so I don’t have to listen to kids playing in the pool, screaming in Portuguese. 

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I have four new books. Carla gave me her library log in information and I can get e-books from her library. I am elated. It took an hour or more and cost me $4 but I have four new library books. Three are kinda boring so far but one is pretty good. A memoir about taking a year off to live in Paris. If you have any must reads please send me your lists.

I ran into the guy taking over one of the hotels earlier this week. I met him on my plane coming over. I offered to help train some of his staff, given that I could bring a few of my kids to sit in on the training. I think I could certainly assist those in training and offer some skills. He introduced me to their HR guy and we exchanged numbers. 

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I don’t know what to do with Cesar. I think I told you he didn’t get into university. He seems discouraged and he has a bad home life. He has enrolled in our Iris Bible School. I think he may do well in our Mission School, but I don’t want to corrupt him by throwing him into a life with Westerners. He wants to study the Bible and needs a strong Christian community of adults and peers who love and encourage him. He just told me his dad has been to see the witch doctors for his paralysis. I wish he could just come and live with me, but that can’t happen. I want to work with him on his English and help him for next year’s test. I am giving him a microloan through our lending program. It seems like a drop in the bucket. Most all of what I do seems like that. Just a tiny drop. 

I’m finally in possession of a drill. Thank you Dr. Eric. And can now install my new knobs on my dresser. I am soaking dried beans to cook tomorrow and have on hand for dinners this week. It took me a good 20 minutes to clean them and sort out the rocks and what resembled, but I pray was not, rat poo. I sold my second iPhone. I bought two while in Anderson, SC on a whim while I was home and sold them both to make money here. It worked. Still anxious to get the new bike. Hoping to get a ride into town on Monday. 

I feel like I am coming down with a cold. Going to snuggle with my library books.

this week in pictures

My gated community

I can always shop. Even in the middle of no where, I will find something. I love these horn bracelets!

Perk #76 of being a missionary in Africa

I love the way the sea changes every day. I could never tire of her.

so now what?

School is rolling along with 100 plus students enrolled. New students arrive every day. But yet Richard and Adele are leaving March 5th. They will be back in June. Andrea fell and broke her arm and is flying to England today for surgery. Pray for her. Both of us are asking why!? It changes everything and puts a lot of things on hold and leaves me, again, alone here. Just when I feel the momentum of productivity, everything comes to a screeching halt. So now what? I do have some help with a new teacher named Manuel. He is excellent but I am not sure for how long he will stay. But he cannot do it all alone either. So it looks like it will be the two of us, plugging away at teaching English every day. Andrea and I have plans to begin to introduce new courses, offer small business loans and a course in money management. But I am just not sure how this will happen now. I can't do both, English and the other. There simply aren't enough hours in the day. 

I am also still anxious to start other small businesses with the students but just not clear how I can do it all by myself.I am taking it all one day at time. Calendars and Planners are pointless here. Everything changes and nothing goes according to plan. It has made me almost too laid back as I know that it will happen, but rarely in my own timing, and never the way I planned. I don't want to lower my expectations too much and I want to remain hopeful and prepared. I am trying to find the balance. 

I met with a guy this week from Baker-Hughes seeking interns. They are an oilfield service company. He asked for three guys to train to run forklifts. They are still working on paperwork and figuring out how to insure the interns but wanted to see if we had young men we could recommend. We do! This could be a great opportunity. 

Yesterday I played tennis and there was a baboon in the tree watching us play. So different. Everything is so different. Even the sun and the clouds and the weather are so so different. Simply no comparison. Baboon spectators. Incredibly humid. So there is the comparison. It's like Georgia in July in the attic. 

lazy sultry sunday

i have a new mattress. it smells like the chemical foam from which it was made. i sprayed it with a de-wrinkle spray i inherited here. the dye from the silkscreen fabric stained my sheets. but now at least it smells like Summer Breeze and less like stinky factory. a few nights ago i heard a ruckus outside my door. i ignored it as i do most of the chaos outside the walls. i later got a text informing me that a snake was coming into my house and the guards killed it. they call all snakes cobras (Portuguese word for snake) so we will never know. probably best.
i still have no motorcycle as i never seem to have time to go to town. shops close for siesta from 11:30-2:00. i have classes. we have 100 students registered. we've divided them into three groups of proficiency and meet twice a day. i may be tutoring a woman in the evenings. it will be good for my Portuguese. i am still trying to get internet. it would change my life.
i found dates at a shop in The Old Town. for $3. i made cashew, date, coconut bars. such a treat.
this weeks lesson involved practice in using the past tense. my students seemed to be tracking as i mapped out an elaborate lesson on the board about regular and irregular verbs and ending in ED. we put them in three categories, those that make a T sound at the end. a D and ED. for two hours solid i tried to teach them that it is incorrect to say walkED, talkED, etc. i showed them the rule about how it is only with words that end in T or D that pronounce the ED. they all seemed to be tracking. then came the quiz at the end. they all failed. miserably. right back to walkED and talkED. i was so frustraTED!
so it is back to the previous chapter and the more elementary book and i will put that lesson back on the shelf for another day. but i did walk away, covered in chalk dust, a little defeaTED. but it could not have been much worse than poor Ms. Manning trying to teach me 4th Grade Math.
i got to talk to my sister and her family via Voxer this week. no words. feels so so good to hear their voices.
hoping to start some sewing projects with the students soon. excited about that.

Weekend

Saturday morning. One of my favorite quotes from Downton Abbey is a line from the character played by Maggie Smith, “What’s a weekend?”. Privileged Granny doesn’t know the difference between a Thursday and a Saturday. Only the working class would know. I’ve been looking forward to this day in spite of only having a four day work week. This time last week I was recovering from the plane ride from Atlanta to Johannesburg and waiting on my Sunday morning flight to Mozambique. My sweet friends collected me at the airport and took me home to my tidy little house Veronica had so painstakingly cleaned for me. They watched me unpack my new wardrobe and American toiletries and necessities. My favorite new additions to the home are my espresso pot (thank you Lynne) and juicer (thank you Jean). Ruth had asked for earrings and Ali a Tervis Tumbler. I highly recommend the espresso pot. It makes the perfect cup of coffee and is less clean up than even my beloved French press.

The girls took me to a local restaurant. I ordered the overpriced lobster and savored every bite. I promised myself to buy from the fish tree and make at least once a month. Jet lag woke me up at midnight and I finally just got up and unpacked and organized drawers and put things away. It made Tuesday a real blur. I am not sure how the word got out but 50 students were waiting outside the school when we arrived. Praise God I have help.

Andrea came right before I left to cover for me in my absence. Richard and Adele were here as students of the mission school last summer and have agreed to come in three month rotations. Adele and Andrea are organized. Me, not so much. They had prepared registration forms and placement tests! We put students into groups and I am teaching the beginner group. I cannot tell you how incredibly amazing it is to have help! I often left the classroom completely utterly drained and exhausted. But now, with other people there to lighten the load, I can enjoy my much smaller little group, get to know them by name and not feel like I have been standing on my head for hours.

The scooter didn’t start but I expected that. One of my students, Sebastian took it to the mechanic for me where I paid $4 to have it repaired. It broke down before I got to school, less than a mile away. This time I handed it over to Henrique who repaired it for me, but I am afraid to take her very far as she is so so so unfaithful and not trustworthy.

The first 48 hours here had me reeling. It is such a tough transition between these two worlds. The world I know and love is so easy. I cherished every moment, every shower, every meal. Nothing was wasted on me. And suddenly I am thrust into a world that could not be more different. Hot. Left side of the road. Black faces. White girl. Hot. Dirt. Lizards. Roaches. Mosquitoes. Rats. Little bamboo market. Hot. I boarding the plane thinking, “I’m not ready for this”. I hated leaving my daddy’s hug and the endless choices of Atlanta restaurants not far outside Hartsfield Jackson’s International Terminal. But as I lay on my little foam mattress under my net writing this I can’t help but know, “I was made for this”.

Caught a ride to the beach with Ruth and the Babies

I’ve had surreal moments in the past week. I am getting to know my students. They walk me home in the afternoons. I love hearing their sweet accents call me “Tee-cha”. I love that I am about to pack a bag of a towel, book and straw hat and go to the sea today. I am in the very center of where I belong. 

Today

About 75 students have been showing up between the morning and afternoon classes. We are now able to begin dividing them into three levels as I have help!! Three stellar teachers are here with me. Went to town to shop for $1,000 motorcycle. Had to pay the $300 I owed in repairs on the scooter that won't crank. Had lunch on the sea. Hope to get transportation soon. Will take a week to get new documents. Or longer. Never pray for patience, God will send you to Africa.

so true. thanks mary, and flannery.

choosing yes

As I sit here in Johannesburg, waiting for tomorrow's flight to Pemba, I am enjoying my last hours of internet. I am downloading magazines for the months ahead and looking up recipes. I am looking at favorite clothing and restaurant and destination sites and trying to remember if I remembered to pack this and that.  I'm feeling a little sentimental and missing my family and friends and Georgia. I even read the AJC. 

Then Facebook messages me. 

It's Cesar! One of my favorite students! (they are all my favorites). We have a long conversation in Portuguese. My brain gets tired so I start typing in English. He says he wants to write in Portuguese. I tell him, "No" and that I will help him. I correct his first sentence and then give up. I like his broken English better. He tells me all that is going on. He is on the computer because he is waiting to hear if he passed his exams for university! I try to occupy his time while he waits as I know the feeling of anticipation. We write back and forth. He tells me he wants to tell me something and the conversation goes like this:

Grace Davis
what?

12:36pm
Cèsar Domingos Domingos
I want to follow Jesus but for real.

12:37pm
Grace Davis
yes!
this is WONDERFUL!!!
you can do it!

12:37pm
Cèsar Domingos Domingos
I have realised that I have to learn more about Jesus.

12:37pm
Grace Davis
He is very patient with us.
i will tell you all that i know. we can learn together.
i know He is good. i know He is faithful.

12:42pm
Cèsar Domingos Domingos
Thank you for understand me...I will really need yours help!

12:42pm
Grace Davis
i am here for you cesar

12:44pm
Cèsar Domingos Domingos
At the first time I have felt that I can do better.

12:44pm
Grace Davis
with Jesus you can

12:48pm
Cèsar Domingos Domingos
I always thought only in myself but when I met you showed me off the real reason of live.
Sent from Mobile

Be still my heart. Why do I sit here and worry and wonder and dream about new leather sandals and regret not getting to have Mexican with Betsy? I have the best life. I've been given a great gift. I get to befriend Cesar. My little light is apparently shining, along with my new Gogo necklace! So blessed. It is time to go home.

My sweet friend Mary West just posted this. I think she made it herself. She's amazing like that. It couldn't be more appropriate for this very moment. Choosing yes...

i made it

the last 72 hours have been non-stop. because i fly standby, i wound up having to leave a day early because the friday flight looked full. so i lost 24 hours and had so much left to do and people see. a lot of which just didn't get done. mom and dad took me to the airport and once arriving at the gate i discovered the flight was delayed. but i still didn't know if i would even get on this flight. the thrill and expectancy of getting first class had been squelched earlier that day and i was just hoping to get a seat. i waited near the gate for two hours and then they began to show the standby list. i was 9th and there were only 7 seats available. i had to wait until the very last possible second. i was already making backup plans to stay another day in Atlanta and go to dinner with Betsy, when they called my name.  then i suddenly went from thoughts of Mexican food and breakfast in Decatur and the afternoon at the High Museum seeing the Gogo exhibit,  to being strapped into a plane for 15 hours. to be honest, the leaving was horribly emotional and sad for me. i have loved my time home. i cried. the South African/professional hunter beside me said, "you must really love someone". i told him i loved a lot of someones. but i wiped my tears and took out my headset and watched tv. i took 3 melatonin and slept. and so now it is 2:30pm there but 9:30pm here and although exhausted, i am quite wide awake. landing and settling and unpacking and getting back into my life in Pemba excites me. my students are writing me and anxious for my arrival and i am anxious to spend my days with them. i am not quite prepared for rats and 105 degrees, but there really is no way to prepare for that.  thinking of all that, i could get so overwhelmed, the need, the poverty, the overwhelmingness of the job. but God is patient and divided our days into 24 hours and those i can handle. one day at a time. i can do this day. this night i can do with the help of more melatonin and tomorrow i can do as i sit and wait on Sunday's flight. and Sunday i can do as it will be exciting to land in my city by the sea. and Monday will be great because i will get to see my students (and wear my new outfit). He is so patient with me and my shallowness. His patience and kindness leaves me no choice but to trust Him. i am believing Him for great things in this next season in Mozambique and am excited to see what the adventure will bring.  my heart is full. thank you all for your generosity and friendships while i was in the States. thank you for joining me in this journey. it is time to get back to work. to this crazy wild life for which i have been chosen and you've been so kind to join me in. here we go.