Dante's lower levels

We have been blessed with our first long power outage today--it started about 6 a.m. and ended at about 5 pm.  Debbie would claim that “Hell” is among the words that a missionary should not use freely, but today has certainly been hotter than it.  This morning at church we had a record crowd of about 56 (we probably could fit 75 if we packed tightly), temperatures somewhere in triple digits farenheit, and no electric fans to move the air around.   Our chapel is a sort of lean-to structure behind our house—built up against the neighbor’s wall with a slanting tin roof (that heats up quite nicely) and screened windows on the three other sides.  Those screens however, though they keep the bugs mostly out, also keep the air from moving too much.  I was told afterward that I looked like I was going to keel over in my chair up front today.  I was.  I carried a handkerchief and wiped my face about every three minutes or so, but that really was only a cosmetic action.  We survived though and had a great service. 

Many were here for the first time (including 12 from “fake mormon” congregations).  I had asked one speaker to convey a vision of the church and its organization beyond the tiny little group (where the missionaries do everything) that they know now—including the necessity, as we grow, of every member accepting a calling or job in the church and the whole concept of working in the church and sustaining others who are doing so (no paid clergy for us lds).  I asked one young woman to speak extemporaneously—one that I didn’t know (which I always enjoyed doing when I served as bishop).  She was willing and able and didn’t resent me for the imposition.  We are both slowly getting to know the few members and much longer list of investigators (the term is translated as “questioners” in Mozambican).  Some of the latter are fascinating—they are very active and committed to both the gospel and the church but can’t officially enter because of their unmarried/living together status—which they are trying to remedy as they deal with personal, political, familial and financial issues which all come into play.  We are really enjoying our work with our tiny little group of faithful, and seeking-to-become-so. 

We have discovered that a couple of the “fake mormon” congregations are actually close by—and not way out in the bush as we had thought.  Our approach has been to invite them to come to Quelimane to be taught by the missionaries in small groups—but with this discovery, we are going to them and teaching in some fairly large groups (at least in these nearby groups).  I continue to think that there is “something” here beyond the simple adoption of our name.  Though there is little in common doctrinally, there seems to be a real desire on their part (at least some with whom I have visited) to “get it right”, and a realization that they are missing authority and some critical pieces of the gospel story.  We will see how this unfolds and I reserve the right to be entirely mistaken.

I would say a thing or two about writing on tee-shirts.  Most people wear them—as in the states, there are some very fashionable and fancy tee type tops for women.   It is considered even more fashionable to have English writing on them—which they, not speaking English, really don’t understand.  Today at our service, a beautiful young mother (who always dresses to the nines—(she is clearly way more prosperous than the norm) wore a fancy and color coordinated tee shirt with a nice skirt.  The shirt however, had English writing on it that was ugly and obscene and so totally over-the-top inappropriate for church or anywhere else.  I know this sister and have spent some fair amount of time with her—she is good, faithful and modest and would be aghast, embarrassed, and ashamed if she knew.  Will we tell her?  I think not—and pray simply that it be eaten by moths or rats before it shows up again.

I have been eating ice cold pineapple and mangoes this week for snacks.   What a wonderful treat they have been.  The pineapples are delicious—though they have a slightly different taste to them from the Hawaiian varieties with which we are familiar.  No complaints here.

Our mouse in the house crossed the line yesterday and frightened Debbie one to many times.  I was called to defend my spouse from the offender—and did so with dispatch (which also describes what I did to him).

 This is a picture of a local gang of kids that accumulates outside our gate. The older ones go to Debbie's english class (Wednesdays and Saturdays at 14:00). I inveted the others in to visit with me on the porch where I discovered that generally their favorite foods are bread and butter and sometimes rice and beans). When asked, they confessed that the do indeed like ice cream--but I had the impression that it is just not something that they have had many times in their lives nor consider a reasonble expectation.

 

Debbie in the middle of teaching her english class. The young woman is Dina, with whom we have both spent a fair amount of time. She has charmed both of us and is among the most impressive investigators attending. Most of Debbie's english students stay for our hymn practice afterward. Everybody likes singing we find. here in Mozambique, there doesn't exist the self conciousness about religion nor the antagonism that seems to exist throughout the west. We went to a hotel on Saturday to ask permission to use their pool for baptisms. They said--oh sure, just don't bring a million people and come on saturday mornings when occupancy is low. We were prepared to rent it but the issue of money never came up.

Bath time--I think that you can see Debbie there at the upper right corner of the picture, close to the crocodiles

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So the starting price on this was about $USD 100 in Nampula. It is made of ebony (black wood in Mozambican). $20 was the final price. It weighs about 8 lbs. The background is my pillowcase that makes me feel very african.

This is coracao do bouy (bull heart)--a tropical fruit that I have not yet tasted but we have growing in our little back yard next to the chapel along with some spikey limes

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