Sweet moments...

I wanted to show a few of the sweet and rewarding moments we have had lately...


During  a lesson I gave the Gospel Art book to these girls to look at.
They carefully turned every page and the girl holding the book pointed out
scenes with Jesus in them to everyone else.  It was very tender.



Today we took glasses to Hortensia, who really has eye problems.
My husband said he would give them to her if she promised to read the scriptures, so
this is her first attempt which was successful.  Her husband, Funell, of course, said he
needed some too.  So they were reading outside together.  Thanks to all who have
sent the glasses; they are being put to good use.



Past of the gang always outside at Amezides.  Toby asked them what they
pictured God to look like.  The drawing began with lots of suggestions from the crowd.



Imagine how much we laughed when we saw the result.  The drawing somehow
resembles Elder Osborn on a bad hair day.  Amezide and his wife laughed and
laughed along with us.

This was our first young adult activity this week.  We played two games and had
a little lesson on the "For Strength of Youth" booklet and ate popcorn.  Elder McCullough,
ever the competitor, won the first round of the game.  He let a member win the next time.



I love this picture of Aissa practicing leading the music for
church.  This is her very first calling in the church and she is slowly
getting the hang of it.  I love her outfit during this hymn practice.



The last sweet moment is Edma's 18th birthday.  She had hinted to me that she wanted
me to bake her cookies.  I teased her and said I didn't want to do that much work.  So
she was surprised by her brownies and the english/port. dictionary we got her
for her birthday.  We loved celebrating and surprising her.

Cultural stuff

It appears that blogspt won't allow the uploading of videos so I have posted this to YouTube here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go0feHjNkxE

It shows, Carlotta, one of our investigators working at putting rice on the table. The rice has been harvested from their little farm, dried in the sun, pounded in a "pilao" to break off the shells or husks, and now she is sifting it to remove the husks from the mix. It's a striking and colorful scene that we happened upon. In the background, you can hear Debbie conversing in her fluent (if unconjugated) Portuguese and 19-year old Carlotta's mother Bendita watching as well.  

This family, complete with working father and brother is one that took time to truly warm to our message. They did however, and this week we invited them to prepare for baptism which they accepted. Yesterday, we gave them the "you have to get married" talk which they were fine with. This followed the law of chastity talk which truly caught the kids by surprise a bit. Neither marriage nor chastity are widely revered nor practiced in Moazmbican culture, so afiliation with the church and continued adhereance to its precepts are a challenge here.

Walk on the beach

Every six weeks (called a transfer period in missionary lingo) we try and give the young missionaries a day at Zalala beach which is about 50km distant from Quelimane--you can see just how crowded some sections of it are in this photo. We pool resources and bring or cook lunch (today was spicy chicken burritos with home made totillas--an excellent meal)-- the Elders usually play soccor and beat themselves up with physical exertion while Debbie and I walk or swim. (The young missionaries are a bit jealous of the different rules under which the senior couples operate). It was raining in Quelimane in the morning and we were a bit skeptical of the trip, but the skies cleared and we had a beautiful day--marred only by the discovery before we left that the recent theft also included Debbie's tennis shoes and both of our wide brimmed safari hats. We cursed the thieves throughout the very sunny day.

This photo is of some young Adonis emerging form the surf. We could only assume that we had stumbled upon a GQ photo shoot.

The process of removing the fishing boats from the water is neither easy nor mechanized.

This day included a "first for Debbie and I--consuming our first off-the-street (or in this case beach) cooking. This woman was making and selling bolinhas or doughballs very reminiscent of donut holes. They cost a whopping four cents apiece and we caught no diseases that we have thus far noticed. The capulana fabric piece that typically holds an infant (up to 4 years old) on a Mozambican mother's back can also be easily shifted to the front to allow convenient nursing while mom is engaged in sundry other tasks (like cooking or negotiateing with customers).

I thought this guy had an interesting face.

The Mozambican crow is just like the American variety but for the white saddle on his back. Same call, same behavior, just a little different look.

Quelimane (kay-lee-maan-ee)

These folks are Marecedo and Ines Marianna.  Marcedo was invited to a lesson that we taught elsewhere and was very interested in our message, so Debbie and I began teaching him and his wife at their home (pictured in the background here).  We had heard that he held something of a sunday study group in this lean-to structure behind him--but upon closer quesitoning, we discovered that it is a full blown church of which he is the pastor.  He has been very receptive and he told us that he has begun to teach his congregation of the modern day prophet and additional scripture in the Book of Mormon.  We were invited to preach at his church today in the early morning hours.  There were about 5 people at the start and perhaps a tad over 50 by time I spoke to conclude.  I took Elders Delgado and McCullough and our investigator Amizade, sharing the preaching responsibility--Amizade did the best of course, since teaching pentecostal style is his forte.  At the close, we invited them to come to our service and 5 or so climbed in the back of the truck and attended. 
At the close of our own services today,( which were exceptionally good with eighty in attendance), Marcedo asked me if we couldn't create an anex of our church out by his house (which is a little bit out of the city)--so that he and his congregation could begin to participate.  I believe that there were a few in the congregation who had genuine interest and did more than just enjoy our message as something new.  We are returning to his church tomorrow to set up meetings with those who care to learn more.  It occurred to me how unusual this situation would be in the states for a pastor to invite another into his congregation to tell them that they are missing something important, that there is someting much better out there, and then try and facilitate their defection.  It simply isn't that unusual here as this is not the first time we have seen it.

Debbie teaching the kids to sing.  I listened to her today as she took charge--no she can't speak particularly well, but you know, the kids understand her and enjoy her.

When we teach at the home of Rui and Bendita they put us in the two throne-like chairs (their only two) on the raised dias of their dirt back "porch"--and they, their kids, and their neighbors gather on benches in front of us.  FYI, these chairs are about the hardest and most uncomfortable creations--very common and hand-made by any carpenter shop.  Please excuse the black shoes with brown pants (I assure you that it's fine in Mozambique).

Very cute children--and the older is not the mother but a sister (which we are sooo happy about--as mothers in early teens are ever so common).  I met with a young woman investigator this week who is 23 with three kids, the oldest who is over eight years old.

This is Vonnie, who is widely acknowledged to be the cutest child in the Quelimane church group.  She is also spoiled rotton a she knows how cute she is.  Her mother and father (Katia and Gildo) made the decision this week to ignore their family and get married and baptized soon--words cannot describe what an important and huge step that was.  Because we had a sudden opening for a speaker i nour service today and so I asked Katia on Saturday if she would speak.  She agreed with some trepidation, but came today (Sunday) and gave such a magnificent, doctrinally sound and spirit-filled address.  We will be delighted when she finally makes it into the church (and we will wait until then to ask her to control her child).

Our lease will expire soon on our house/chapel and we have been on the look-out for a new place.  After much searching we came accross this old telephone company building, full of offices.  We think that we can knock out a couple of walls and create a  large chapel inside.  The area area next to the carport above I think (with very little reseach yet) could be turned into an appartment for Debbie and I.  We have an investigator attorney who we have turned loose to reseach the possibilities and start negotiations as our african front-man.  We will see.

WOW

No other words to describe it!  Wow!!!  Andrea knows us very well; the box she sent was chock full of surprises.  Wow!

So many faves!  

Kid Stuff

I wanted to show some kids activities today.  Kids grow up with a lot of responsibility here at a very young age.  The other night we were teaching a lesson outside about 8pm with the zone leaders which is unusual for us.  In the background, there was a little candle type lantern burning and an 8 year old scaling tiny fish and cutting them open with a very big knife.  The 11 year old was cooking over the tiny cook stove and making rice and a flour mixture they eat for dinner.  All of this on the porch with flames dancing around them.  Occasionally a small child would try to stir with a big wooden spoon and the mother would shush her away.  The kids are usually barefoot in nasty water, on rocky and treacherous paths and think nothing of it.  Something very unique on Sunday, two girls came to church with little water bottles, which were recycled pint whiskey bottles.  A first for me in Primary!  You will see little children caring for babies everywhere.  It reminds me of the movie "Babies" where the African babies were always in the dirt and grew up just fine!  Maybe we spend too much money on baby wipes in the US.  Here are a few images. I thought you would enjoy:


These girls are plaring (or pounding) manioc leaves for dinner.  They all wanted
to be part of the picture, they actually race once I take it out of my bag.



These balls are made out of plastic bags and rubber bands.  I rarely see a real
soccer ball, although sometimes.  Notice the bare feet and the action!



In many places the kids have to bring their chairs to school.  You can see
a plastic one of a little bench like the boys have.  We often see entire classrooms
full of children just sitting in the dirt.   



Look closely at this swing.  It is made out of two egg carton flats.  He kept falling off,
but was having a great time outside the Elders house.

These hand made cars are the most typical toy in Mozambique.  They are made out
of old tins cans, string, pop cans and sticks.  This is the biggest one I have
seen, but the Elders have seen double decker ones in other areas.  Nothing goes to
waster and kids are pretty creative to say the least.

Teaching Pool

This is the family of Rui and Bengita and family.  They are the first large family that we have have begun teaching alone.  They are made much larger by the many friends and neighbors (not pictured) who they invite and who drop in when we teach.  They never fail to come to church, love the lessons, but losing the clapping and hallelujahs is hard for them.  Rui and a friend have said that they have a large group of men that they have organized to hear our message and wonder if we would be willing to talk to them soon.  In truth, we have found that it is a real challenge to teach effectively toward conversion to a large group a disparate levels of interest and understanding--so we have begun to carve up the Rui group into smaller and more manageable subsets to be more effective.  We debate whether or not the teenage daughter in the yellow capulana is pregnant (Debbie says yes).  Since this is Mozambique and there are no communication taboos, we would just ask I suppose. 

This is Julinho.  He is a carpenter who we hired to build some tables and the ladder and platform for our baptismal font.  I immediately took a liking to him and invited him to church.  He came briefly, but when he suddenly lost his wife and brother in quick succession, he sought us out for some insight and consolation.  We began the lessons with him last week and he appears to be engaging well.  He brought his infant son with him on the 10k bike ride to church yesterday.  The baby fussed so Debbie walked her during services.  I think she wants another baby, but only a black one.

Toby holding forth on some important point or other--or perhaps just relating a tall tale of hunting or fishing in Alaska.  Actually, the picture looks like I am whistling, but I assure you that is not the case.

Christina, to whom we taught a good lesson last week.  A single mother to whom perhaps we should introduce Julinho above.

Debbie had made brownies and brought them to this lesson with Amizade and Lourdes (as a thank you for significant assistance following our robbery).  ?neither they nor the accumulation of neighborhood kids had ever tasted them so Debbie handed out little bits to everyone.  They were a hit.  As a side note, Amizade spoke in church yesterday on the topic of marriage--expounding on its doctrinal foundation and speaking of his preparation to get married himself so that he can be baptized--and the fact that there will be no party as he can't afford it--but it is the marriage that is important (the expected marriage party is a HUGE thing here and actually an impediment to people getting married).  In the midst of his talk he lapsed into his former Pastoral role and said AMEN, to which the entire congregation responded with their own AMEN.  he then caught himself and chuckled and said "oops, I forgot, excuse me, I come from a different background"--everyone got a good laugh.

Ok, so this is not a teaching photo, but there are simply too many cute children here.

Keystone Cops

I have spent a fair amount of time at the police station the last couple of days, more than three hours yesterday. They were unfailingly solicitous. The first hour was spent looking for a pen. Pens are in short supply apparently and those that had one of the coveted objects would not relinquish possession. We then spent a long while listening to them debate about what number to assign the case--apparently the methodology is not etched in stone (how could it be, there are no writing implements). Finally we got to the case itself and they outlined for me their impossible vision of my midget gardener as the kingpin of the crime ring (he who was gagged and tied and suspended for hours following the robbery. Truly it was amazing. Our missionaries on the scene had an immediate grasp of the likely path and process of the robbers, but the local police (who haven't watched nearly as many CSI episodes)took a very long time to discard some utterly nonsensical ideas. I outlined my losses and the church's in detail for an officer to write out in longhand as well as my history, parentage and my view of what happened. After that laborious project, I went to another police investigator, who had also secured a pen, and repeated the identical steps. It was an agonizing process that I hope to never repeat again. I should mention, that our (gospel) investigator Amizade, arrived at our house very early and unexpected Tuesday morning to help me through the whole police ordeal, sticking by my side throughout. We are not accustomed to seeing much thoughtfulness here and his action was both helpful and heartwarming.

We have gotten the house cleaned up, things back in generally the right places, and today we had carpenters, iron workers, and electricians over to put steel grates over the air conditioners, fix doors and locks, install outdoor lighting and generally try and make us feel a little more secure. We also hired two new guards, one of whom will always be on duty rather than sleeping. Our new guards are full sized and look, at this moment to be more capable and fluent in Portuguese rather than just dialect--this bodes well for their future.

Here is a bit of Mozambican culture. The vast majority of the populace cooks over charcoal stoves (think Hibatchi grills). The charcoal is generally produced by people who live out in the countryside who gather wood and burn it to produce charcoal. They they put it in these large plastic bags and sell it on the highway (about 80 pounnds worth). Because charcoal prices had spiked lately, a couple of people had asked if I might buy some for them out of the city--where it is less than half the city price. Here in the middle of nowhere on the way back from Nampula, we stopped beside these bags on display and these men suddenly appeared--all quite anxious to help. We bought a couple of bags and put them in the truck. Though it might have saved a few meticais for our friends, charcoal in the back of a pickup under a tarp with baggage and on a bumpy road, creates an enormous amount of charcoal dust and mess. We won't do this again. These guys do look a bit rough--but these are just normal country folk here--trying to eake out a living.

ROBBED!

We have been in the northern city of Nampula for the last few days. We kept busy, doing training sessions, giving talks in church, putting on a marriage seminar, interviewing good people, interviewing not so good people, giving pep talks and generally staying pretty busy.

We were awakened at six am this morning by a call informing us that our house in quelimane had been broken into, our guard beaten, bound and gagged, our bedroom turned upside down and itmes of value taken. After a little more church work in the morning we finally got on the road home,and found the scene much as had even described--though our guard was no longer suspended by his feet from a tree in the back yard. A computer, all of the church money (about $8000 USD) and our own safety net stash (of about $4000) were taken along with an odd assortment of other things: flash drives, hair clippers, duffle bag, dark chocolate, and make up. But leaving passports, credit cards, a movie camera, gps unit, other camera and many fine white shirts and ties--go figure. They were armed with knives and a crowbar according to our guard(who sits in jail tonight under suspicion for complicity). They entered by scaling an adjacent glass-encrusted wall and removing a wall mounted air conditioner and squeezing through the hole. We debate whether to be grateful that we were out of town and thus missed a possible violent confrontation--or regret that our absence created the motive for the robbers. We are leaning to the grateful side--I'm not actually anxious to try out the machete I purchased for emergencies.

We have never had a home invasion before (unless you count the birth of our children). I have read and heard of the emotional trauma that such can create and now am experiencing that surprisingly broad range of emotions myself. We feel violated, wary, suspicious, insecure, angry (actually furious), and grateful. I presume this will subside in time. I have an early morning meeting with the police tomorrow, though we expect little there. I really don't believe that our little guard/gardener is a perpatrator here--and really should endeavor to get him out of the jail tomorrow. We have locked ourselves in as well as we can tonight and have begun making a long list of security issues and changes around here.  I called our mission president in Maputo to tell him of the event.  In his usual compasionate way, he remarked that to be a real mozambican missionary, one must be robbed and have malaria--and "congratulations on being halfway there".

Mozambican Culture Summary (from just one picture)

Before I begin, let me remind our readers that I do love it here.  I have come to love these people and find much that is noteworthy and impressive about them--and I hope that those items get plenty of attention in this blog.  But that doesn't make me blind to some of the very challenging aspects about Mozambique and its culture.  The picture, taken in limited resolution with my ipad, is not particularly noteworthy--its artistic merits might not win it a pulitzer prize.  But as I looked at it, it occurred to me just how many stories and aspects of Mozambican culture were hidden within.  The picture:

The first few are easy things. 

To the left of the people, you can see a reed mat or esteira leaning against the house.  This is what most Mozambicans sleep on.  They cost very little and wear out slowly over time.  There is not much cushion to them but they are generally a clean place to lay down.  In the heat of the day, during the lunch 2.5 hour siesta, people will drag them out onto the dirt of the yard in the shade and use them to lay or sit.  I have one and have taken a nap on it and I supose that one could get used to it--but I remain grateful that I brought a queen-sized memory foam mattress with me.  As a related note, we are currently visiting Nampulawhich branch of the church  that meets in a very large warehouse-like room with concrete walls and arching metal roof--the echo within the chapel is simply horrific--and makes hearing very very difficult.  I became a sound engineer today and designed a solution to the problem--which is to hang about eight of these mats from the rafters along the walls to absorb the sound.  They do smell rather bad, but I'm thinking that the tradeoff will be an easy one if the plan works.

On the right side of the people is a small grass broom.  It can be bought in the market and is the instrument of choice for sweeping one's dirt floor or yard.

The house is somewhat better than is typical here.  It has a framed door, it is much taller (high ceilings) and you can see that the cross-beams under the mud covering is made of multiple branches tied together with nylon cord--providing considerably more strength than the single branches that are typical.  You may note that the house is raised about a foot above the surrounding earth to keep it dry in the rains.  The house costs about USD $18 per month to rent.

The person in yellow with the dazzling smile is Dina, one of our investigators.  She is eighteen and has three children, the oldest of which is three or four.  Yes, that makes her 14 or so when her first child came--this is not unusual at all.  Dina is a woman of great faith--truly impressive, and she has a strong testimony of the gospel--but she is also just a kid--who has had to grow up way befor her time.  Her "marraige" is tough because she is very young and very strong willed--and because she has a vsion for the future far different from that of her husband.  She hasn't two nickles to rub together, is terribly dissatisfied with her status quo.  The gospel is her way up but she must persuade her husband (using the trm loosely) to go through the effort of marrying her, so that she can fully embrace it and be baptized. Dina is tiny--and skinny.  The tininess is genetic.  The skinniness is Mozambique.  Most people do not eat very much here.  I don't know many people who are malnourished--but many are only a meal or two away from it.  Dina is wearing second hand western clothing as do most people her age, but she carries her infant in on her back in a capulana and will dress up in native atire from time to time.  She scowled but grudgingly complied when I asked her to try for something other than pants at church.  (I DID make sure that it was clear that it was not high on the eternal list of priorities).

Standing next to Dina is a young girl of 9years of age.  The girl was a stranger to Dina just an hour before this picture was taken.  But she is now a "filha da casa" or child of the house--something between an indentured servant and a foster child.  The girl (whose name I forget at this moment) was an orphan living with grandma well outside the city.  Grandma couldnt feed her, and Dina needed help around the house with her own kids (so that she can finish high school this year--and she also just plain likes to escape some times).  They struck a deal and Dina will feed her and get her to school in return for her work around the home. The negotiation with grandma, and extraction from her previous school took about a half hour--I drove them all home (she had a small backpack with all her possessions)..   This is sometimes a harsh place..

A bit boring--promise to do better

We live in the Province of Zambezia, named after the Zabezi River (pronounced Zambezzi) that flows through it..  It is the  same river that flows through Zimbabwe and Zambia and flows to the sea about 200km south of us here.  We cross the Zambezi on our way to Marromeu.  We have yet to see a crocodile nor hippo on it.

There is a local dish, that is famous country wide--and that is Meio Frango Zambeziano  or Zambezian half chicken.  It is pretty standard fare in evry restaurant and it generally costs between five and ten dollars for the plate shown above.  The magic ingredient that seperates Zambezian half chickns from all others (and there truly are alot) is coconut milk.

Whenever we go anywhere, Debbie fully engages with the locals--drawing an adoring (or gawking) crowd around her.  This is on the beach/landing across the river Supino from the Island of Iduga.  This is a beautiful but rough drive out here that we made today to deliver an old woman, the mother in law of Amizade, back to her home. 

We have a few wandering Rastafarians in the city of Quelimane.  They generally possess the matted hair and the cannabis-induced vacant stare for which they are well known.  They don't dress particularly well, as demonstrated by this fellow. 



These are not cape buffalo, but they are buffalo--but domestic rather than wild.  Alas, the number of wild beasts around here are ever so few.  We see a few snakes and mongooses and monkeys and tortoises, but anything else has been eaten long ago.



We cannot go out to the island with Amizade without him volunteering the back of our pickup (and inside too--to his multitude of friends who need to get from point A to B.  You may note the large dent in my tailgate.  This was an act of physics thrust upon me as my truckbody in motion struck an immovable object that suddenly appeared in my reversing path. (a telephone pole)

After a hard rain last night, this neighborhood was flooded pretty well and local boys were trying to net fish in the larger accumulations of water.

We have created the tradition of a late night dinner (after work) with the Elders on the night before some are transferred away to other assignments.  This was Tuesday night following following the priesthood ordination of Abel Mabundo. The departing elders Ostler and Brogan requested a  breakfast and we accordingly cooked waffles eggs and potatoes.  Though ordained ministers, we are often times reminded that they are at times just kids.

We have had some wonderful and powerful experiences lately in teaching investigators and working with members.  Yesterday, Debbie and I taught a family that had heretofore somewhat unimpressive, leading the young missionaries to lose interest.  We felt them worth a bit more effort and had a tremendous lesson with them excited and fully engaged, including their older kids who previously opposed the church.  It was great fun for us.  In the evening we visited a very troubled couple who had called for counseling.  The husband had drawn a gun on the wife a couple of nights previous so we were not terribly excited about the meeting.  It was positive in that we taught what needed to be taught, and we didn't get shot--but we don't hold out a great deal of hope for that one.  I teach a Thursday night class for interested members and investigators focusing on the BofM with which so many are not terribly familiar.  Tonight's focused on the psalm of Nefi and the participants were really moved by the poetic power of that particular chapter of scripture.  I really do love to teach--one should wonder how I ever became a bean counter.

They ask, we deliver!

For this entire transfer (6 weeks) the Elders have wanted to see crocodiles.  We have heard rumors about them and have driven on a few wild goose chases and never found them.  We decided to take an African investigator with us, who had the connections and we had a fun few hours on P-day with the crocs.  Glad we found them in this setting and not on the river banks, I can still hear the sound of their teeth snapping in my dreams.


This is mom and dad we think; not a very friendly couple.



You can see the scales on this croc pretty well here. Anyone want\some shoes

Notice the open jaws; the Elders simply poured some water on these

guys and the crocs went nuts. They have some video of it and I am

screaming like a little girl. Screaming with delight, mind you!

/


Toby naturally wanted to get a little closer to the beasts.  They are kept here for what
reason we know not.  We have driven by here weeks ago, but didn't
know who to ask for their location. (notice this water is red, hum..., what was for lunch?)



This is our district along with and Amezide, who kindly came with us
and had the right directions.  We don't know what he thought about us
acting like tourists, but we enjoyed having him with us.

Domingo

It is Sunday in Quelimane.  We are always a little excited for Sunday here.  It provides a little bit of a change from the daily routine.  It's almost as if it were a day of rest--without being all that restful.  We are always interested and curious to see if our investigators will show up to church, what strange people will come in off the street, and whether someone will act up and forget that they are in a stodgy LDS service and not one of the local pentecostal groups. 

We have been averaging about 45 people at our service with a couple of weeks topping out at 60 and 65.  We have been seeing gradual growth--enough to convince us that our little chapel will not hold everyone for much longer.  Today we had 88 people in attendance (and that might not have counted babies of which we have quite a number).  We had to have about 10 people sit outside--but as the windows are open and screened and their chairs were all in the shade, I suspect that they were all more comfortable than were we--sweltering inside. We were glad to have the extra thirty chairs that I purloined from Beira a couple of weeks ago.  The service today was a very powerful one.  It was our "fast and testimony" meeting whe there are no assigned and speakers but the members and investigarors (a 1/9 ratio) participate as they feel inclined and express their feelings and convictions relating to the gospel and its impact on their lives.  This week we will have the very first ordination to the priesthood in the history of Quelimane--Abel, who was baptized about three weeks ago.  He and his wife have quickly become a great strength here.  It is impressive to see his progress. It is wonderful to see some of our new members and investigators catching the vision of the gospel and the church.  They will lead the many others others I believe. 

I made a plea to the congregation today to help us find a new facility.  We have been looking for some time--but I am convinced that it is the locals that know people and know houses and buildings in the city and it is they who will eventually find the right place for us.

We asked the group to gather after services today to pose for a picture for Elders Brogan and Ostler who we believe will be transferred this week.  Elder Ostler was fresh off the plane when he arrived here four months ago and it has been fun and inspiring to see his progress towards competence and confidence. He is no longer timid and now teaches effectively and with power. Elder Brogan is a very very competent and polished leader among the misisonaries.  Very impressive young man with a voice like an angel.  We will miss his near-perfect pitch and very positive influence.  We have one investigator who speaks of Elder Brogan with something of a reverential attitude--saying that THERE is an elder who possesses the gift of tongues. 

Which brings up an issue for me: We have a few young missionaries who look down on the Mozambican language and the local accent here which differs substantially from Brasilian portuguese--and they refuse to speak it--but seek to speak Brasilian.  It irrituates me no end--as the people we are called to teach and love are the Mozambicans (I already love the brasilians by the way, having served my first mission there).  Elder Brogan speaks Mozambican portuguese wonderfully and the people note that and it gives him much more power as a misisonary.

 

Ever since I started saying goodby to people, I have always loved the hymn: "God be with you" (til we meet again).  I asked for it as the closing hymn today and may have inadvertantly let my iPad record a bit of it--which you can find here.  http://youtu.be/KefxKZ08SWE

People

In the end, it is only people who matter of course.  The fact that the mango season has officially, completely. and regretably ended is really not particularly important in the eternal scheme of things. 

We have come to know wonderful and fascinating people here in Qulimane--complete with their full complement of human strengths and struggles that make them our siblings.  Herewith are just a few today.


We don't know this woman, but she, like scores of others has been hired by the city of Quelimane to go around with the little broom in her hand and sweep up trash.  It is truly akin to the straightening of deck chairs on the Titanic.  You will note a couple of muslim hats on passers-by.  THe muslim community is large here but not a majority.  We are quite cautious when we teach them--those actively engaged in that culture we generally decline to teach for their own safety

This is Debbie with Edna and Aisa who have graced these pages before.  Edna is the more sober of the two and is struggling through some cancer fears right now.  Both are very attached to Debbie.  They really are wonderful young women who help us feel a little bit like parents still. Edna is an orphan, living with a sister and Aissa is the daughter of periodic investigator so burdened with pride that he will never progress.  We really like these girls and likely spoil them a bit,  (perhaps the matching Mazaratis were too much).

These are two young girls who were among about ten other neighbor children who always join in the lessons when we teach Amizade and his family in their yard (using the term "yard" generously--as it is just the dirt surrounding his mud house--but under a banana tree--there is no room in the ouse so we meet outside).  These neighbor kids are always respectful and have varying degrees of understanding.  Amizade has begun to bring many to church with him and the young missionaries have begun to schedule lessons with them.  It is sort of a fascinating thing to see.  The girl in pink here is Isabela--We do not see many kids with earrings.



This is Lourdes, who is to me a fascinating woman.  She has light in her eyes--a very bright woman who the young missionaries were not paying much attention to for a time--perhaps because she is the tag-along sister of an married invetigator with many children.  After a time we began to note that Lourdes is much more impressive than her sister.  She NEVER misses church and always actively participates in everything.  I met with her one day and invited her to be baptized and she is now being taught actively.  She has invited her boyfriend to marry her and made lifestyle changes that may provide him incentive to do so.  I really like and admire Lourdes--she has a great smile and strikes me as a veryattractive traditional-looking African woman.  Lourdes needs to find a job and wants to go back to school so that she can acquire some skills.  Lacking, resources to do so, we will likely help her through Osborn Literacy Foundation.  I am negotiating with her to get her to speak in chruch a week from Sunday.