welcome to my world of procrastination – some of my african thoughts weeks, yes, weeks later; this disclaimer is valid for all future africa blogs!!!!
after five long, often grueling, travel days through the wilds of mozambique, we arrived in sena at dusk, the small town directly across the zambezi river from mutarara, our final destination. we had expected to take an auto ferry across but alas, this was not to be; there was no ferry. ‘we will leave the truck here and cross over on foot, it is only a short walk’, peter, our blind translator told us. after many moments of confusion, we prayed and received a little peace. so, we hired bicycle transporters and leaving most of our belongings and supplies behind, off we went into the unknown of the black night. the narrow pedestrian bridge we traversed was wrought with other travelers and cyclists, as well as broken slats of wood and concrete, making the journey quite precarious. after about 20 minutes of walking, we were greeted by millions of lightening bugs offering to us their magnificent light show of mating; simply incredible. our walk continued and as we finally crossed over the infamous, mighty zambezi (known for its devastaing floods), the nearly full moon rose over the distant mountains and mutarara, spectacularly welcoming us. our ‘short’ walk turned out to be a 7 km trek that ended after one hour and fifteen minutes at the village where we were to live for the next three weeks. after brief introductions and prayers, we assembled our tents, and fell fast asleep.
the next morning i awoke very early to the morning sun baking me in my tent. as i poked my head out to take in my new surroundings, i noticed that i was practically surrounded by children. my attempts to speak to them only drew blank stares and giggles with the exception of one – beah. she immediately walked toward me with this mischievous look, took my outstretched hand, and landed in my lap. thus began our love affair; this impish girl stole my heart.
because beah was always around, it wasn’t until much later that i learned she was not one of the orphans we had come to serve. one afternoon she showed up at my tent and coaxed me over to her home where i met her parents, grandmother, and some of her nine siblings. her father greeted me as if i were a long-lost friend and we enjoyed a time of communicating in his broken english and my broken portugese, while beah buzzed around us. i learned that her father had been a diplomat guard in addition to a soldier in both the mozambiqan independence and civil wars, and was now working with the mutarara police department. i left feeling as if i had gained a new family.
one of my favorite moments happened one night about a week later. beah had fallen asleep in my lap and mark accompanied me as i walked her home to her family. a little while later i was in my tent about to go to sleep, when i heard children yelling ‘beah beah’, the nickname i called her; often the other children would mock me with this to get my attention. i didn’t respond and continued to prepare for bed. the next thing i knew, a crowd of excited children were at my tent door, with beah (wasn’t she asleep earlier?), and her older sister at the forefront, holding a guinea fowl in their hands and attempting to put it in my tent. all my endeavors to communicate that i did not want this bird in my tent failed, so i called out to mark and our translator, sanje, to come help me. sanje informed me that indeed, i was being gifted with this guinea fowl and tradition dictated that i take the bird directly from them into my own hands as a gesture of acceptance. not only was i to accept this bird, it was expected that it remain in my tent. after much laughter and more probing for understanding, it was determined that the pastor, who looked after the orphans, and his family would take in the guinea fowl and prepare it for our dinner meal the next day. so into my hands came the bird. its feet were tied up so it hardly moved until i handed it over to mark, then it went berserk, and i shrieked. the outburst of laughter was immense, so amusing were we to the children. mark graciously took the bird away and after giving my thanks to beah and her sister, goodnight wishes went all around. off to sleep i went, with a huge smile on my face and joy in my heart.
the next afternoon mark eagerly sacrificed the guinea for us, with the assistance of the pastor’s wife, enaishe, as we hesitantly looked on and supported him. it was gruesome to say the least (see haley’s video below if you dare), but great fun too as the women and children gleefully poked fun at our distress. after several hours of preparation and cooking, the guinea fowl was presented to us for our eating pleasure. and pleasure it was – that poor bird was surprisingly delicious. we ate every morsel while reliving with amusement the chaos of receiving this funny gift.
there were many special moments with beah and i continue to ache for her all these weeks later. it was still dark the morning we left mutarara to begin our journey back to swaziland. i was the last to leave our campsite and as i was walking away, i called out to sanje over my shoulder to please tell beah goodbye for me once more. as i approached the main road i noticed my teammates gathered in front of beah’s home, and to my complete amazement, there she was. dressed only in a small parea wrapped around her waist, and with eyes filled with sleep, she was standing by her front gate to bid us farewell; this was a gift of love straight from my Father God. yet i still wonder how she knew we would be there at exactly that time. with one last heart-breaking hug and a lump in my throat, off i walked into the breaking of dawn along with my team to take one final excursion over that maddening bridge, with mutarara and its wondrous people burned forever into our hearts.
