Post #1

We have been in Mozambique for three days now.  Debbie has not yet openly wept.  She indicates that she is saving that for our drive up north to Quelimane, our new home for the next 18 months—scheduled for next Monday. 

Since we left the relative civilization of Alaska, we traveled first to Salt Lake City.  There we had a delightful week with family—parents, children, grandchildren, and siblings.  We suspect that all had grown rather weary of our interminable goodbye tour—but most were good sports and didn’t mention it.  We had a few family dinners, a last BYU football game, last minute shopping, financial arranging and, to everyone’s relief, eventual departure.   

We spent five days in the MTC (Mission Training Center for non-lds readers).   What a great experience that was.  About 35 “senior couples” were there and probably about 2500 young missionaries.  The seniors (I’m using the word even though I rebel at the label) have their own program independent of the more youthful missionaries.  We started by everyone introducing themselves and their respective assignments.  Truly it was a fascinating thing to hear the diversity of locations and responsibilities.  The group really covered the world.  There were medical assignments to Micronesia, youth-center administrators to Europe, and varied assignments to every other corner of the globe—even three couples to Africa.  We were the only ones of the group learning Portuguese though probably only a quarter of the group was to be learning a language.  We felt somewhat sorry for a couple in their seventies assigned to learn Greek, and another a Philippine dialect.  We were very impressed by this group of people—from widely varied backgrounds, all feeling varying degrees of separation anxiety from their former lives.  The most interesting assignment we thought to be the couple who was assigned to run a cattle ranch in Nevada.  They were bringing their horses, dog, and guns and bragged that they didn’t have to wear white shirts, ties, nor skirts.   We were inspired and really humbled by the program we experienced in those five days—it really started us out on the right foot.  We had heard Ed (our youngest son) speak of his experience there only a week before (he is now serving in Pennsylvania) but were quite pleased to have it for ourselves as well.  The businessman side of me was really impressed by the logistical and organizational expertise that it takes to move a mass of people through a program like that—truly impressive.  I was told (but have no idea if it is so) that the cafeteria is among the largest in the country—and I must admit that it was a pretty amazing production to see that many people in and fed in under an hour.

Our flight was endless.  We had a long lay-over in London and escaped the airport for a few hours and took the underground to a few sites and sights—the National Gallery and Victoria and Albert Museum among them.  I took drugs to try and help me sleep on a schedule that would have me arrive with my internal clock synched for Africa.  Since I have been falling asleep at inappropriate times for the last few days, I suspect that my efforts were in vain.

Let me talk about Mozambique briefly.  We have underestimated the adjustment and challenge of this mission (and we haven’t even done anything yet).  This place is deep third world—and we are in the most thriving and civilized part of Mozambique.  We spent four hours this morning standing in line at Immigration for our extended visas (something akin to a green card).  Nothing works particularly well here, many are impoverished, the place is pretty dirty and run down and the traffic and driving habits are something to behold.  I suspect that charm will emerge—but it hasn’t quite appeared yet.  The young Elders (yes, I see the oxymoron) are uniformly skinny.  I think that few emerge without a parasite or two.  We are staying in the home of the mission president and his wife—a very very nice roomy place with beautiful hardwood floors and spectacular overlook of the Indian Ocean.  We have learned that our dwelling in Quelimane could possibly be less impressive.  We spoke today (on my new cell phone)with the Elders who live  there who related just a few itsy bitsy challenges with our home (including the possibility that we may lack any water for a few days after arrival and maybe the promise of internet access was made a little optimistically).  We will cope.  We will have our first driving experience tomorrow (left side of the road and left hand manual shifting being the most feared challenges).   The Portuguese is going fairly well—it is not so difficult to converse as I had feared—perhaps too early to really tell, but it seems that the Mozambican accent and pronunciation is much easier than those in Portugal (though not so painless and easy as those in Brazil).

It is strange to recall that just two weeks ago I was still working—and rather fully immersed in a very different world—with far different concerns and interests.  If I let myself, I can easily slip into worrying about the future—so we try hard  not to—and for the most part are succeeding.