Skip to main content

Wednesday city trip | Transport adventures and hope for Mozambique.

Every day is full of the new here. I suppose that's to be expected when arriving in a completely new nation, where each day contains yet another layer to discover. The morning was spent just hanging out with the children in the playground. It was a joy to watch them be just that- children- playing daring games on the various playground equipment which when built was guaranteed for 5 years, and was partially worn out after mere months. I imagine it was designed for lighter treatment than it received heree. And yet no-one seems to mind the lack of swings and other hanging things. There is always the plastic bottle lid and a piece of string which provide endless opportunities for creating new toys.
In the afternoon Melissa (who used to work here) and I got ready to head into the city. Despite being very white and clearly foreign, we were embracing the adventure of travelling on the local chapas, little busses that pile people in till they are bursting and provide local transportation. I must admit I was a little unsure beforehand, especially seeing the concerned faces of the Mozambicans, but I decided that if the pastor we were going to meet thought it was ok, then it would probably be fine.
And it was. After a good while standing in the chapa, seats became available, and I could really take in the scenery as we sped by in between stopping every now and then for the ticket guy to shout "museu" to see if more people wanted to join us on the journey. After safely getting off at our stop, it felt so good. Good to no longer be on the chapa, but also so good to be in the city. I am such a city girl, and I love feeling the heart of the city and take in the smells and sounds, heat, and bustling of people (there were many people). So many impressions to take in. We bought a wee snack (a chickpea thing soaked in oil which was delicious) at the side of the road, and walked to find a Vodacom shop so I could activate my sim card for here. It was great to just walk along the busy street, and get to observe the many different people who make up what is known as the people of Maputo. People ranging from the poorest street person dressed in a black plastic bad, to the more well dressed personin a suit and shiny shoes. All so beautiful and all with such infinite value.
As we had some time to kill before our appointment with some pastors, we decided to go to a cafe close to the sea. To get there we took a chopela, which is a three wheeled little thing that looks like a tuc-tuc and is probably more like a motor bike than a car. We agreed on a price and our driver drove us along the coast line, entering into the role of tourist guide as we drove along. He pointed out the port, fortress, women selling fish, and even stopped now and then for photo moments.  It was a crazy drive, as there were many near misses of cars and people, but he got us to our destination safely (even if at one point we stopped in the middle of the hill next to the wall of the president's residence, and I think our driver stuffed some plastic bags into somewhere to keep us going- motor vehicles are not in the best condition in this place).
But so much more than the drive and what we saw, the highlight of that little adventure was connecting with this young Mozambican man. At 26 he was already feeling disillusioned with life and the future, and shared that driving this little chopela was just a job, and not his dream. We got to hear his heart and a little bit of his story, and before we parted ways he let us pray for him and encourage him. "I think God sent you guys to encourage me today, because this morning I was having such a bad day, wondering what the point of life was," were his words to us. I think it was more than a coincidence, and we were so thankful to have had the opportunity to strengthen one of those who are part of the future of this nation.
At Cafe Sol we were grateful for coffee and food to sustain us for what the rest of the evening would hold. They even had the famous Portuguese pastry pastel de nata which is a custard tard. One of my favourites anda little think that brought me much joy in that moment.
As it was getting dark, irmao Raimundo came to pick us up in his truck to take us to the meeting with the house of prayer in Maputo. The journey to the Bible school where the meeting was to take place gave a unique opportunity to take in the city by night, and get a feel of what the night hours hold in this place. On arrival we joined with the Wednesday evening class for the house of prayer students. Sitting there I was so encouraged to hear what was taught and I sat there thinking it was lovely to get to receive a little bit of teaching in the midst of this missions trip. And so I was very unprepared when irmao Raimundo suddenly gets up and announces that they want to give some time for the two sisters from America to share the word in their hearts. For a small second I wondered if I could get away with just letting Melissa share, but soon realised I had no idea how that would be perceived, and decided to just go for it. I am not sure what I said, but I read a Bible verse and asked them to pray for Norway, and their faces were smiling and nodding so I figure it was encouraging. The evening went on for a while and leaving took a while of hugging and greeting an amazing group of dedicated young and older Mozambican intercessors. People who are committed to seeing God break into this nation which is one of the poorest in the world and full of crises and huge challenges. Challenges that seem impossible, but are not impossible to a big God.
Arriving back at the base it was hard to sleep; so many thoughts and impressions filled my mind. And in spite of getting a glimpse of poverty and dispair that is so prevalent, I am left with a resounding feeling of hope for this nation! Hope because people are praying. And hope because there are righteous people who will bring this nation into a better future.

Popular posts from this blog

At a crossroads yet again.

This evening feelings of weariness flood my soul. Weary of not knowing. Weary of choosing to trust. Weary of waiting. Weary of walking yet not knowing what I am walking in or towards. Weary of figuring out life on my own. This past month the reality of crossroads in life has hit me yet again. I knew it was coming, but suddenly it was there and I just had to go with it. There’s not much more I can do...except waiting and trusting and choosing. Choosing to let God be the One who guides and fights and prepares the path before me. My crossroads is “do I stay or do I go”? From Kansas City and IHOP-KC. In October I’ll have been here two years, which feels like 5 years and at the same time 6 months. In December I go home for Christmas. It’ll have been a year since last time and I’ll be seeing my niece who’ll be 3 instead of 2 years old, and my little nephew who will be 1 year already, and I’ll get to meet little Julie who is only three weeks old as I write this. She’ll be 4 months when I meet...

Preparing for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the 17th of May. But for any Norwegian, this particular date isn't like any other date in the year, it's the 4th of July of Norway. And this year I am actually here. However, some preparations had to be done to get ready for tomorrow. One was getting my national costume down from the loft. I got it a few days ago and tried it on. It's a wee bit tight, but I think it'll be fine. This evening I ironed (or rather started ironing) the blouse which is hand embroydered and made of linnen (so those of you who have a clue about fabrics, know that linnen is the opposite of no-crease material). And the second part of the preparation was polishing the silver. I tried the "foil-in-hot-water-with-salt" method, but I don't think it worked too well. I did a bit of polishing with toothpaste after that and it looks alright. At the end of the day I'm the only one who will notice the level of polishedness of my silver. I have also got my camera on charging re...

On the move again...

As I walked wheeling the trolley containing two suitcases and a rucksack (belonging to my middle brother who has bought himself a new one) I felt tears stinging in my eyes and threatening to push their way out. I suddenly felt so very small and the airport so very big. I’d got off my 45 minute flight from Sola to Oslo, got my bags from the baggage claim (the airline I flew with lets you decide how many bags of luggage you want to take against a small fee, and so I was able to bring not one suitcase weighing 20 kilos, but a suitcase and a rucksack), bought my train ticket for the last leg of my journey, and was walking along in search of a cup of coffee and a waffle to kill the half hour till the train. Walking along I caught myself thinking about this new stage in life. I wondered why this move up to the YWAM base here in Norway seemed so huge, when moving to Brazil obviously was a bigger move, at least further away. And then it occurred to me that when I’d been travelling back and for...