Twelve hours in tightly packed train and five hours in a mini-van bus with nineteen people or 45 minutes in an airplane; which would you choose? We chose both. The former for the experience and the latter because we didn’t think we could handle the experience again. Here’s how it went.
Two colleagues and I (Michael) needed to go to a new location to help the missionaries get a jump start in their culture and language learning. So at four in the morning we arrived at the train station. It was dark and there were not many people standing outside. We soon realized why. They were all on board the train. It was packed with standing room only. A man who had been there since two in the morning decided he was going to sell us his seats. While we were getting settled someone stole my friend’s wallet including all of his documents. In desperation, we called out saying that we knew the money wouldn’t be there but we needed the documents back. When it became light we found the documents on the floor having been left in order by a very considerate thief. We took the opportunity to give testimony to God’s answer to prayer. After that our trip was long but fairly uneventful. We had a great time with the missionaries at their new work and afterwards were very thankful for the short flight home.
It was good to be with the family again and to pick up on where I had left off with building relationships and learning culture and language. Take last Sunday, for example. One of Jessica’s new friends, Isabela, invited us to attend another small church in town. The kids thought it was great to sit on the bamboo mat on the dirt floor with the other women. For once Jessica was comfortable because her feet could reach the floor. It was an interesting service, listening to the lady preacher speaking in Portuguese and a man standing right beside her translating into the local dialect. Janelle asked why they were standing up there and arguing. She didn’t understand that is the way they preach and the man was just trying to say it again in another language.
After church we went to a thatched restaurant/bar that Isabela’s husband owns and Jessica helped prepare lunch. It was a traditional Portuguese meal (not Mozambican) and Issabela was excited to teach us how to make it and for us to eat it. It is pretty much a thick bean soup with different types of meat served over rice. The ‘different types of meat’ included pig’s ears. Jessica, knowing what was being served, delicately picked out the beans for her and the kids and generously gave me the ears. Oh well, some furry pigs ears are worth it if eating them would help build stronger relationships.
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