Grand Adventure (part 1)

I didn't post a blog the other week because I was off on a grand adventure! I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Yet I would do it again in a heartbeat. 

"Hey, I know this is last minute, but we're going up to Memba tomorrow morning. Do you want to come with us?" my friend Nelson said on the phone. "You could do some research about the people and culture. There are no churches in the area."

What a great opportunity, I thought. Unfortunately I had plans for the following two days but it just so happened that another family was going to Memba on Friday. It was agreed that I would follow them to meet up with my friends for the weekend.

In the craziness of the next two days, I made several wrong assumptions about the weekend. I assumed there would be decent roads, electricity to charge my phone, cell service in order to call my parents and post my blog on Saturday, and other faulty assumptions.

Midway to Memba Friday morning the nice paved road disappeared. Dust billowed out from the car I was following, coating my own inside and out. Around noon I said goodbye to the family in Memba town and met up with Nelson and his brother. They said we needed to go farther to get to the village. Hours later the brother took over driving so I could rest. I'm glad he did. If I had been the one driving my car down a narrow, rugged path through the bush I might have stressed out.

They pointed out the school their mother had walked to every day. "Now you'll see how far she had to walk to get to school," they told me. It took ages bumping our way down the path before we reached the village she grew up in. I thought we had arrived, but I was wrong. We greeted that side of the family before piling back into the car and continuing down the narrow trail.

We finally parked the car by an uncle's house. Shouldering my backpack, I followed my friends up the trail. I spotted two grass roof houses facing each other, set against a blood-orange sunset. I greeted the sister, Clementina, who had stayed behind to cook for us, and met several of the aunts, uncles, and cousins. I breathed in the fresh clean air, awed by the beauty and tranquility of the place.

That's when I discovered I had no cell signal. I needed to call Marie to tell her I had arrived safely. She was the only one on planet earth who knew roughly where I was.

"It's okay, I know where there's service down the path," Nelson said.

We set off as darkness settled over the land and the stars came into view. I could make out the tall grass on either side and the occasional tree, bush, and tall ant mound. Nelson stopped under one tree. He pointed to the grave of his father’s father and mother and grandfather, their graves just visible because of the white stones outlining each one. We paused at each house we encountered on the path to greet each uncle or aunt and to check if I had a phone signal before continuing on.

Successful, we headed back. Several relatives joined us on the way. When we all arrived, I could just make out a large white tarp spread out in the sandy yard between the two houses. One or two people were sitting there shelling peanuts.

The aunts, uncles, and cousins who had joined us on the path found seats on the tarp. Sacks of peanuts were poured out in the spaces between them. It was a peanut shelling party! One faint solar lantern hung from the cashew tree nearby, the only light besides the stars overhead. I sat down on one of the low bed frames crisscrossed with braided grass, reached into a basin of peanuts, and started shelling them.

Clementina came and asked me if I wanted to shower. I quickly said yes, since I was starving, and followed her. (Bathing before a meal is important, especially after a long journey, so showering was the quickest way to get food). She led me to the back side of one of the houses, gave me a bucket of water, told me to wash, and walked away. I thanked God for my time with Word of Life in southern Mozambique where I had learned to take bucket showers.

Later, the food was brought out. I used my hand to pinch off some shima and scoop up the greens, but I found it difficult to differentiate chicken meat from the bones in the dark. Nelson pulled some off for me and then told me to eat the liver and something else. I only braved the liver, since I at least knew what it was.

Shima (thick corn porridge)

Full, I sat back under the stars listening to the sound of peanut shells cracking and the voices of everyone talking in Macua. I kept glancing up at those stars. They were breathtaking. Brilliant against the black sky. I spotted the Southern Cross and smiled. God was looking down on me even in this remote region where few people know the Gospel. I could feel His presence around me.

(Southern Cross is far-right)

At some point Clementina came and shuffled me off to bed while the peanut shelling continued. I lay there in the dark on the woven reeds taut between the wooden frame, using my fleece jacket as a pillow. A feeling of peace and contentment blanketed me as I listened to the night sounds and the gentle conversation outside. I felt beyond happy, finally living one of my dreams. I looked forward to the adventure continuing the following day as I drifted off to sleep.