Four Churches

Sunday October 26

Ashlynn and I woke up, cooked some eggs, put them on some bread and ate our breakfast. At 6:00 we gathered the supplies to take to Alberto. Some Mantega beans and oil as well as salaries for the pastors and some audio Bibles. Janito drove and Frederico, the pastor over the district, sat in the front. Ashlynn and I sat in the bed of the truck and we were off. It was pleasant morning, even a little bit chilly. We drove through Balama and then headed South to Namuno. The dust was flying and people were calling “acunha” and pointing as we drove by. It could be because they rarely see white people or because they rarely see white people sitting in the bed of the truck. Either way, we were happy to have the best seats with fresh air, and a perfect view of the African wilderness.

We drove through Namuno and it was much bigger than I had imagined it to be. It is bigger than Balama and cleaner also. There are lots of coconut trees and lots of trees in general. Janito bought some bejias (fried bean patties) and they were fresh off the fire which means they were extra-delicious. He said Namuno has the best bejias and I agree although he does have more experience eating bejias than I do. The first church we visited is still being built. But we met under a mango tree to hold the services. There were about 15 men and one woman. I was shocked to see a father holding his daughter who was about two and she was entertaining herself with a knife and a green mango. I didn’t notice her making any progress in opening the mango but hopefully someone will take the knife away and actually help her open the fruit so she can eat it.

The second village was called Vitoria and they actually had a church building made of mud bricks. When we arrived there were a bunch of kids singing and dancing being led by a man and woman. I later learned it was the pastor and his wife. We went inside the building and they showed us their daughter who was laying in the front of the church sprawled out on a capalana(a capalana functions as a sheet, skirt, bag, baby wrap and many, many other things). The girl had been vomiting and throwing up. The mother picked the girl up, she was probably 8, tossed her on her back and tied her on with a capalana. Janito drove them to the hospital. After church we walked to Alberto’s house and visited with the pastor.

As part of this journey, Ashlynn and I went to find the bathroom (made out of bamboo sticks with grass tied to them as the walls and there is a hole in the ground). There were some cute baby pigs inside the bathroom and then I noticed the mother was there too. ‘Fred, we have a problem…’ Fred came over and he along with one of the boys chased the pigs out of the hole in the back wall of the bathroom.

We drove to the third village and they also were building their church. We met under a grass roof with people spilling out to the porch of the house next to it. We sang with them and then Fred preached again. As we were walking to the truck to leave one man came running after us and gave us a plastic bag with 5 eggs in it as an ‘oferta’. Some of those guys went with us to the next church.

The final church also had a building and it was the biggest with around 80 people in attendance. The singing was more energetic in this place. After the service we prayed for an older grey-haired man who was sick but I couldn’t quite understand what Fred said he was sick with, a blind woman and an epileptic boy. As we were leaving that place a man also gave a plastic sack of eggs and one of beans as an ‘oferta’.

As we drove home Fred bought some boiled corn on the cob for us to eat and we bought some cokes. It was a sweet day visiting and I do hope we get to visit those churches again as well as some others.

As we listened to the preaching in each church and understood none of it, I was grateful that God has provided His Word to these people in their own language and men who can teach them. My prayer is that the pastors will continue to seek God and to challenge their members to follow Him. And also that more men would follow God’s call to teach others of Him.

Tavidi

He has been our friend pretty much from the start.

Two years old. And with a little bit of coaxing, the biggest smile will appear.

He is a little shy but not too shy to come to you.

Last Sunday at church I noticed him walk in the back door. He was walking like he was on a mission. He marched right down the aisle and to the row I was sitting in. He stopped and put his hand on my knee. I laughed inwardly that he is not so shy now and knows that I will gladly hold him on my lap for the whole service no matter how hot it is in that building.

On Thursday at food distribution he was standing by his grandmother with his shirt pulled up, he was holding the bottom of the shirt creating a pouch with his precious peanuts inside. He put the whole thing in his mouth and after he cracked it open and got the peanut out, he would spit out the shell. I walked to him and he grinned. I picked him up and held him; I doubt that he actually understands what I say, but I talk to him anyways. A few minutes later, he looked up and got a big sheepish grin, I looked over and his grandmother had come back in to get him. She had got the food and needed a child before she could go home. I reluctantly handed him over.

Later Ashlynn and I walked to visit the homes. As we walked past his I looked over just as he screamed "acunha!" He threw the dishes that he was holding and ran towards us. Now that I know he talks, we will work on some names. But the abandon with which he ran to us was what impressed me.

I know its not the same and pardon the comparison, but I thought of the prodigal son in Luke 15. After the younger son had made a huge mess of things and crawls back to his father, the father doesn't start off by reminding the son that he had made a huge mistake, he runs to him. He loves him. He is the father who has a right to judge, but the son knows that. What he has forgotten is that he loves him. Running to meet someone signifies abandon. It signifies that you don't care who sees and what they think. All  you are thinking about is the person you are running to and that they know it.

A Mozambican Wedding

Manuel drives our big trucks and we love to ride we him to food distributions. He gives us oranges which we call "friendship oranges", he is always smiling and brings a lot of joy to everyone.
On the last trip together he was telling me about a wedding and asked if I would come. You cannot imagine my excitement since I have been wanting to go to a Mozambican wedding since I decided to come to Mozambique. It seems like a great place to learn about the culture not only in regard to weddings but to marriages and relationships.
There was some confusion about who was actually getting married because I guess family titles are used loosely. Manuel said it was his daughter and I thought she was only 14. The day of the wedding we walked to the wedding with Manuel's half-brother, Bertino, and I said something about his niece getting married and he looked at me funny. I said 'isn't this Rachel's wedding?' and he said 'no, it's my aunts wedding'. I still am not sure who it was who got married, but I hope they have a very happy life together whoever these people are.

The bride wears a white dress and the groom wears a suit. They are escorted in by the jovens (young people) who were gathered from the audience a few minutes prior to the ceremony. One person sings and everyone else sings back as they slowly dance their way to the front. The couple stays and everyone else dance-sings their way back out. The Padrinhos stay close to the couple for the whole time--this is where Manuel and his wife come in--they are the Padrinhos, which for us would be the equivalent of best man and maid of honor and they also help pay for the wedding.
They first thing they do is welcome everyone which includes reading names from a really long list and whoever is there stands up and waves. Many people are not even there like pastors from neighboring communities, teachers and government officials. The pastor of the church preached about marriage and the husband and wife's relationship--he included humor which helped keep everyone's attention. They exchanged vows and the kiss. Then the dancing choirs started. Our kids had a choir led by Bertino and they invited us to join their choir, so after one dance lesson we were in. It was fun but a little nerve wracking since as two white girls we can't even pretend to blend in. Everyone was laughing but we hope it was because they were impressed. The kids love when we dance with them and we are honored when they invite us. We kind of feel famous though. One of the choirs in their song about how God loves marriage included some Macarena-type dancing and it was awesome! There was some more talking and then they had the offering. It's a time for everyone to go to the front to greet the couple while giving your gift. It could be as little as 10 meticais (less than a dollar) or more, a bucket, plates or a basin. But you have to dance-sing with everyone else as you make your way to the front.
The ceremony lasted more than five hours but surprisingly it didn't feel that long at all because we were so caught up in trying to know what's going on and talking with our friends. They served food at the end but we couldn't stay for that part. We walked home with Dominica and she said it was a beautiful wedding and she hopes that she can have one just like that for her daughter. Nene is only 16 and common wedding age is 18 or 19 so she has some time to prepare.
So, Mozambican weddings are fun and you all shouldn't complain the next time you are at a wedding that takes over an hour. But you should if you don't get to dance-sing as part of the ceremony.