My beloved country in the sand.
Me holding one of Mama Rita’s kiddies, Maratz.
Mama Rita! and all the ladies on the mats.
Mama Rita’s house and the kids and ladies that live there. It housed us, our stuff,
20 orphans, Mama Rita, and the rats.
Right outside Mama Rita’s house with the kids. Nightly dance parties took place
out there. The little ones really know how to shake their booty.
Me and Patrice sitting by the wall of the house, a common activity
at Mama Rita’s. The little girl Patrice is holding had an intestinal
infection and possibly malaria. We took her to the doctor, got her
five different medicines, and blood work done, all for $35.
Rachel with our most animated friend of all, Maria.
Patrice and Patrice. They were singing buddies.
Peter (our amazing and beautifully passionate about the Lord English speaking
blind contact, and relative of Mama Rita’s) and Mama Rita.
Patrice, me, and Rach with our suckers.
Mama Rita’s first son (by adoption) Jona. He is our buddy, and through people sponsoring
him while we were there, we were able to raise enough money for him to go to
school to learn English. He is an amazing guy who will be able to help out Mama Rita
and Peter much more once he’s learned the language.
Mama Rita. Oh she is beautiful. Absolutely amazing woman. She just feels like
home. Her scars are from her childhood village traditions. They were thought to
be more beautiful if they had scars.
So one night, there appeared a dead rat. Jen, Jona, and Nate thought it was really
fun to chase me and Angie around the house with it. I think Rachel may have
been in on the mayhem as well. And Mama Rita was the instigator of it all. Sheesh.
Running for our lives way away from the house and staying as close
to each other as possible.
Nate, don’t you even dare. (I had a pretty fierce grip on his arm there).
Oh just riding in the back of a truck with our braids. Rachel and Angie and I all got
the “mesha” together. It took 12 hours and a tear or two. And I will never do it
again because it was one of the most painful things I have ever endured. We liked to
refer to Rachel with her braids as “Jacklyn Sparrow”.
A beautiful woman outside her house telling us her story.
This was “the program of staring” in the bush of Mozambique. These folks had rarely
seen white people and they didn’t really know what to do with us. Pretty much
they just stared at us from the time we got there to the time we left. It was quite
comical actually.
Riding in the back of a truck for 5 hours, 16 people, luggage, 21 bags of corn, and
urine from the lady next to me on my feet. The joys of Africa.
Once again, “the program of staring.” (Back story, you must know that our beloved Peter
referred to everything we did as a “program”). So, these times of staring were thus referred to
as “programs.” In this particular case, there were about 30 people watching us set
up our tents one night. Very action packed entertainment. I know.
Angie and Rae and I had a photo shoot one afternoon with our mesha.
Sisters we are.
Hey Mom! This is my new polka dot skirt! It’s my favorite.
This is on the coast of Mozambique in a city called Vilankulo. It was so beautiful.
Sunset over the lake at the house we were staying at.
Me and my little angel playing in a boat that was on the beach.
This little doggie came and played with us every time we were at the beach.
Team R JAPAN on our snorkeling day! (Rach, you were there with us 100%)!
The beautiful Indian Ocean.
What a bunch of dorks. Going down the line: Nate, Patrice, Angie, Jen, and Me!
Angie, this may be the most attractive picture of you yet.
Me and Patrice spent a couple hours playing in the sand like little kids.
Rachel, come back to us quickly, we love you and we miss you dearly! You are my sister
and it’s just not the same without you. Praying for you moment by moment. Love.
