...and show you things I've seen

Yes, we do look like twins, but you can tell us apart by Debbie's lack of a tie and her shorter hair.  We are standing in front of our lime tree full of funny bumpy limes. I don't think that we are looking nearly as old as some people here seem to think we are.  In a discussion with some 20-somethings the other day, i invited them to guess my age.  The first guess was 67.  It must be a just a racial thing (I keep telling myself)..

This a coraco do boi  or bull-heart fruit picked from the back yard--well yess, picked from the back yard but belonging to the neighbor's tree.  The picture below is of the same fruit sliced open.  It's texure is a bit gross but Debbie thought that it tasted like sweet texas pink grapefruit.  Note the exceedingly boring tie--I am hoping that my children are sending me ten with color for Christmas.

On the small cross street that we take to and from our house, there is a deep depression (Prozac would not help) in which forms a deep lake after it rains.  The puddle (about 18 inches deep) stetches fully accross the street (lined by fences) eliminating the possibility of someone on foot passing on dry ground.  People either wade or await a good samaritan like me to make the back of their truck available for passage.



At the side of the road outside the city are vendors of everything--including, in one area, woodworkers and carvers.  This carved chest (and many more like it) was not terribly expensive and I really coveted it--but couldnt quite figure out how I would be carrying it home.  I dickered over the small carved box on top but just couldn't deal with the $14 price tag.  We will go back another day and try and get it for $12.

We recently obtained a long-awaited sign on the front of the church.  I hung it first with parachute cord--but since improved it so it can now swing freely (and without noise) in the wind.  It's remarkable to note how much walk-in traffic we get because of the sign.  Purists will note that we do not have the logo typeface precisely right in a couple of ways--but I would remind you that this is Mozambique--and everything, including the author, is a bit off here.

This is Pasqua (or Easter), our maid whose dress I loved.  I suggested the fabric and design to Debbie.  We seem to have a difference of opinion on what constitutes acceptable missionary atire for a Sister in Africa.