This picture memorializes the shortest haircut that Debbie has ever had in her life.  I had volunteered my services as a hairdresser ( I did bring scissors) but Debbie rejected me in favor of an unknown younger fellow wearing purple pajama bottoms (but recommended by a lady at church).  At this particular moment, I think my hair is longer than hers--but that won't last, as mine needs desperately to come off in this heat.  This picture was taken on the long road north today on our way to Nampula, which is a city and branch of the church within our responsibility.  It is waaaaay up north--as far as the church has reached in Mozambique.  As you head north, it seems to become drier (I'm ok with less humidity), more Muslim, and more local dialect spoken than portuguese.  It was a beautiful drive of about eight hours.  We had mainly good roads (on National highway 1) except for a 40k stretch of very very rough stuff--making us glad to be in a truck.

A prerequisite to making the trip yesterday (bringing tall Elders Gee and Brogan in the back seat--though they say that it was still far preferable to taking local transportation or "chapas)) was finding some way to remove the lock on our spare tire--my reasoning being that a locked spare tire is not any better than none.  No key could be found and the lock was designed to not be reachable by a hacksaw or chain cutter.  I started at a local little hardware store (drogaria) where, to my surprise, a couple of them came out to the truck, climbed under it (with big chaincutters and hacksaws in hand) to see if they could do something.  They couldn't, but a discussion ensued with employees of other small stores--all of whom had ideas of varying practicality (it was a very "manly" sort of discussion).  One suggested that it needed to be cut off with a torch.  I asked him where and he gave me indecipherable directions (no one, ever, at all, uses or even knows an address in Quelimane).  I asked him if he would come with me to show me--so he sent an employee to show me.  Well, the first stop didn't have anything to help, so we found another shop that he thought would have a metal saw--but that shop had the tools locked and the owner was indisposed--then he took me to a little mud and stick place with a guy out front with a big rotating power saw cutting up a truck (no goggles of course).  he climbed under our truck but found that he couldn't access the lock either with his big power saw.  Then the proprietor who looked to be 80 climbed under the truck for a moment then dragged out the most ancient and dirty of electrical devices. All of this took much discussion and movement, and maneuvering.  It was held together by windings of wire and tape--many of its electrical connections were bare--it was a makeshift arc welder.  He pushed and prodded the wires to make a connection and then climbed under the truck again.  He of course wore no mask or goggles--this is Africa after all.  30 seconds later, the lock dropped to the ground and I regained the use of my spare tire.  He wanted 2 dollars for the effort.  I took the store helper back to his shop (after an hour out with me).  To my Mozambican surprise, he would accept nothing for his effort (which really did save us), though he did ask for for information about the church.

 This is just a countryside picture on our travels today.  Though we covered about 500k, there was really very little of that distance that did not have some dwellings beside the road like you see here.

Modern and not so much.

This guy, who I thought had the greatest of smiles, was not really threatening us with the machete, but was flirting with Debbie as we stopped to stretch our legs. She made a point of talking to everyone and of course doing the unforgiveable of giving candy to children (we noticed that adults wanted it too).

We do love the head thing

 .

Termite mounds like this line the road for much of our trip. This one stood about 13 feet tall.

 

With loads like this on the road, we are glad that we pass on the right.

Last night we saw our first rat in the yard.  Our guard/gardener, who has asked for a raise, was offered a bounty for each set of rat ears he could produce from our property.  Strangely, last night we went out to dinner (for the Mozambican inexpensive staple of a half-chicken dinner) and saw in the restaurant garden under the setting sun, about 30 additional rats scamper by--as well as the sky filling with large fruit bats.  Debbie was unimpressed with our rodent filled night for some reason.
We are doing well, the strangeness is wearing off and we are beginning to see the vision of why we are hear and what good we can do.  It is not really ADVENTURE here, it is mainly work with a little bit of lower-case adventure in the unbelievable remoteness of it all, the enormous lifestyle change, the language, and the simplicity and open hearts of the people here.  For those who have worried, don't.  If we survive, we will be fine.