Travel days on the World Race have always been exciting times. Our trip from Nelspruit, South Africa to Dondo, Mozambique was no exception, proving to be an unforgettable experience.
At 10:30am Saturday morning we hopped a taxi to the bus station where, after picking up some food we boarded a bus, which was supposed to arrive in southern Mozambique at about 5:15 pm. We spent more than 3 hours at the border, apparently they aren’t equipped for processing 50+ visa-needing Americans, which meant that our bus didn’t arrive into Maputo until 8:30.
Funny thing about third world countries and not knowing the language well…it’s not easy to buy bus tickets in advance. In Maputo we discovered that the next bus that could take us where we were going wasn’t leaving until 4am Monday, but expensive $25/night hostels just weren’t going to fit the budget, so we hired a private bus that insisted on leaving at 4am…because of the timing of checkpoints on the road.
Left with the dilemma of dozens of white people in a possibly dangerous African city carrying around 50 pounds of everything we owned, we spoke with the bus company who agreed to let us sleep on their bus in a gated parking lot until we could hop the other bus. For those of you just joining me on this journey, training camp had us sleep in a bus for a night with the whole squad, the worst night we can all remember. I remember thinking at training camp, "this would never happen to me."
An early morning meant we were groggily tracking through city streets to our next bus. After about a half hour, our bus attendant indicated in very broken English that there was one rule: No pooping in the toilet…this was said after one of us had already christened the bathroom. So I watched the attendant cover his hands with a few thin plastic bags and make, what seemed to be a death march, to the back of the bus. A few minutes later he came out with a bag, and threw it out the window. It may be worth mentioning that the bus already smelled like a toilet. We never practiced for THAT at training camp.
Part way through the day, the attendant walked up to an old teammate, waved at him to follow, and together they went back to the toilet. Someone else had gone. I died laughing as I watched the process play out again as another bag of poo was thrown to the side of the road.
As the day moved on, we lost air conditioning…then at 7:02pm we arrived at the check point. I wish I could tell you what a check point means, because that's what they call it. To me, it was just the toll booth to cross the bridge. When we arrived we found that the bridge closed at 7:00pm. With no way around, and only 2 minutes late (although we were told that it actually closed at 3 that day…just because) we were stuck on the bus…for yet another night.
Needless to say the night was long, and the ride to our ministry site even longer the next day. Arriving "home" at around 7pm after more than 56 hours of travel (please note I did not say the word shower in any of the blog) we were welcome by dozens of children dancing an singing. No translator. And all of them looking at us for entertainment.
Welcome to Africa.
On a side note, I have had some team changes. While sad to say farewell to the Pecks, who have been raised up as our squad leaders, we welcome three new teammates: Joey Willis, a Texan youth minister who has accompanied me on several WR adventures; Lauren Leabheart, a teacher from Maryland who was the first Racer I ever met, she's great for a good laugh and a heart-to-heart; and Kylie Grabauskas, a strong Canadian business owner who has undeniable beauty both inside and out.
Our Team is named Audacius Love, because we want to love boldly in a unique way…ok, and there's many other reasons, but I have 37seconds left to push publish befre the internet is shutting ff. Love and miss you all
