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.