I Can Relate...

“Heal my heart and make it clean.

Open up my eyes to the things unseen.

Show me how to love like You have loved me.

Break my heart for what breaks Yours.

Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause,

as I walk from earth into eternity.” 

– Hosanna by Hillsong

I’m not sure when I first heard those lyrics, I’m not sure when they first struck a chord with me, I’m not even sure the first time I sang them as a prayer for my life.

I’m sure this song has grown my faith and stretched me to love more like Jesus did and often to realize when I didn’t. It has challenged me to wrestle with just what it looks like to love like Jesus and I’ll tell you I still don’t have the answer.

This last year with starting The Widow’s Might, my eyes have been opened, I’ve done my best to love and my heart has been broken in brand new ways. To me these three lines of this song can be summed up with one word… compassion.

I left for Moz in April, knowing that I would be living in an unfinished house with half the floors being dirt and the other half cement, no running water, no electricity and no bathroom… well there was a bathroom but it looked more like a walk-in closet with a rock floor. I remember thinking to myself that I would really like a toilet, but cement floor, electricity and running water I could live without for months if not years. No big deal.

Wrong.

Within days of arriving at our house, I had some of the most intensely itching bug bites and they would blister if scratched. I noticed one blister popped and turned a quarter-sized patch of my skin into something that looked like leather. So I began to dress my bites with toothpaste and Band-Aids 24 hours a day; at times would wear knee high socks and boots.

 Bug bites day 2, 3 and 4.

 Without electricity, we had no fans, so Nunu and I would spend the hottest hours of the day outside under a shade tree. It worked great until one day, I got burned… badly. So bad in fact that I couldn’t stand up much for the next two days because the burn would turn purple and my skin would throb.

And I thought no one would ever see me in all my bandaids. 

I still have the lines 4 months later.

Wearing these, I felt like I was trying to
make weight for the wrestling team,
because my feet were so HOTTT!

While we have a generator, the cost of gas prevented us from using it much. On average we used it about an hour a day and there were weeks when it didn’t work at all. We relied on a solar light and portable solar panel to charge our phones and anything else that was USB.

I would have to shower each day by 4:30 in the afternoon, because if I didn’t, it meant taking a shower by cellphone light. Cooking was much the same; I would rush to get it done before dark, cooking outside on a charcoal stove. Cooking in the dark not only meant relying on my cellphone flashlight, but also getting bug bites, even though I was using bug spray.

Cooking spaghetti on a charcoal stove.

We had a large blue barrel for water. About twice a week we would pay Binti to fill this bucket which we then used for showers, washing clothes, dishes and cooking, but not for drinking. I always tried to keep 3 water bottles full and out in the sun, as 6 hours in the sun will kill 99.9% of bacteria in the water.

Water bucket in our Kitchen/Living area.

One morning the sun was hitting the water barrel just right and I saw movement: mosquito larvae, lots of them. I spent the next 30 minutes scooping them out. It’s hard to say if they were brought in with the water or if mosquitos were entering our house and doing this. Anyway, we began covering the water barrel and from then on only found the occasional swimmer.

I don’t share all this with you for pity or to complain. If these are the conditions I have to live in to bring The Widow’s Might to fruition, then so be it. I still have it better than most and that is the point: I know the conditions I was living in are just a small portion of the life my neighbors live… my eyes have been opened.

A few weeks ago a video popped up on Facebook and it said “Akon Lighting Africa.” I decided to watch. To be honest when I started watching I was conflicted. Was this a hand-out (giving away things) or a hand-up (giving knowledge, helping)? It felt like a hand-out, but then it hit me. There is no way these people could pay to bring electricity to their village (we are faced with a $12,000 bill to bring our electricity 1,500 feet) and odds are that their towns are too small for the government to do so. I had to realize that sometimes a hand-up comes in different forms. And this electricity is bringing so much good to these villages, allowing safer streets, giving people the ability to work past dark (and not cooking dinner by cell phone).

While I’ve never dropped my cell phone into a pot, I’ve cooked dinner more nights than I can count by cellphone light. When I heard that woman tell her story about dropping her phone into a pot of sauce (about the 4:00 minute mark), I lost it. I continued to cry. Scratch that; I bawled through the rest of the video and beyond. Why? Because I can relate.

While I can relate, I know that it shouldn’t be like this. I know how the other half lives. I’ve been given more compassion for my village than I know what to do with. I don’t just want to see my neighbors and friends scrape by; I want to help them be better. I want to see all their children go to school, not just the boys, and be able to come home at night to do homework at a table while mom cooks dinner with the lights on… and that is just the beginning of my dream.

Dirty Games

The whole week after having the ladies over to our house, I was on cloud nine. I would be busy doing dishes and I would just stop and reflect on Saturday as if it was happening all over again. I would get overwhelmed and shake my head... rhetorically asking myself, “How did this happen?”

I’m just in awe and so grateful to be here and part of this.

Since Saturday I’ve had some visitors, most are just passing by with a hello and some form of my name. But the other day two women, LaHoova and Rizza, came to say hello. It’s hard, even for Nunu, to communicate without Latino, but we talk as we are able to. They commented on my sunburn and pointed out that my white skin is my American skin and my red skin is my Mozambican skin… I get a good laugh out of this and agree… they are absolutely right.

As Saturday arrived, we headed out for our 10 minute walk to the closest part of the village. Nunu had an idea where LaHoova lived so we went in that direction.

One of the things that is very different about life here in Moz, is that more often than not people are outside their house. People cook and do laundry outside and the rest of the time you just sit and talk with neighbors. It’s similar to the idea of sitting on your front porch all day. For Nunu coming to the States the first time, this was the thing that was so shocking to him… no one sat outside talking to neighbors.

Anyway, we eventually came across a group of kids. They were spread out over an open area all playing different games or just talking with each other… doing kid things. As we walked up, everything instantly stopped. Crickets… you could hear cricket.

A moment later they were all following us down the street, some saying my name. Others running to get younger siblings to see if the sight of a white person would make them cry. We didn’t have to walk much farther though as LaHoova’s house was the first one past the open area.

We said hello and found out that Rizza wasn’t around today because she was at a funeral. Latino and I sat in chairs while Nunu was off to the side talking to someone he knew. As we sat down all the kids closed in around us. My hopes of trying to “talk” to LaHoova went right out the window. The kids were so curious and so loud, I could hardly hear Latino who was sitting right in front of me. I said to him, “I can’t wait till the day that I’m just Amanda.” But for today, let the kids be curious, steal touches and laugh at whatever about me or the situation they find funny.

Kids gathered around Latino and me. 

Latino pictured with the kids!

As I sit there, LaHoova keeps on trying to have me say things and I do my best over the noise. I find out that her husband died in the last year or so but she has remarried. She also has a couple of her grandchildren living with her, which is very common.

Inside I laugh each time I feel a hand quickly swipe over my foot or ankle, as if the movement was so fast the kids think that I didn’t just feel that. The day was hot and with curly hair I end up with ringlets at the nape of my neck. My favorite is when the kids gently pull on those, it’s relaxing and sends shivers down my spine. I was imagining a couple girls behind me with almond shaped eyes, big white smiles and small braids in their hair, but I didn’t want to turn around right away; I thought they would take that as a sign they did something wrong. So I waited a little and slowly turned. You can imagine the surprise when I turned to find it was a couple of boys playing with my hair.

After having 20 or so kids just stare at me for about as many minutes, I asked Latino if he could try to play a game with the kids. Just then Nunu was making his way back to us and so they got most of the kids back to the playing area and I got to breathe and just sit with LaHoova and a few others.

LaHoova, curious about my bug bites.

All  of a sudden I look over and see Nunu having all the kids sitting on the ground, one behind the next, holding on to each other with the first (or last) child holding on to a light post. Not really sure what is going on, anyone who isn’t lined up is now watching. Nunu starts at the back of the line pulling kids off sometimes getting one loose and other times three. I gather the point of this game is just to see if the adult can pull all the kids off of the post.

On the right the first kid is holding the post. 

Some familiar faces, these kids stop by the house at least
once a week.

I’m watching all these little faces light up. They find this so funny and entertaining. I laugh as I watch Nunu closely; he too is beaming and completely in his zone. I laugh even harder when I realized that he tickles the kids as he is trying to pull them off. The game is SO funny to watch, it’s amazing that something so simple can bring so much joy.

Nunu pulling some kids off the line!

As he gets to the end, the boys there try so, so, so hard not to let go of each other or the post. But eventually Nunu wins out! Raoul is a little boy who comes by our house a few days each week. Nunu really likes him, so he tells Raoul to grab the post and hold on tight while Nunu pretends to try his hardest to pull him off, eventually getting him off. But the game isn’t over, now Nunu is sitting on the ground holding the post and all the kids are grabbing onto him trying to pull him off.

Last kid standing...
I just love his look of determination!

Game over!

What game is complete without a few high fives!?

Raoul's turn!

I just love this picture, nice view Latino!

Nunu telling Raoul to hold on tight!

Just love those smiles.

Nunu's turn! 

So much fun!!!

It’s like time stops. I sit there looking at my husband, who is now covered in second hand dirt. I see him doing what he is so good at doing, which is loving people exactly where they are, dirt and all. I see him playing a game that will likely hurt a bit tomorrow but doing it because it brings a smile to a child’s face. I just see Nunu, as God created him to be and I think how lucky I am to be married to him and to have the kind of “job” where I get to see my husband at his best. I look at him and he is smiling from ear to ear and I don’t doubt that there will be many more dirty games with children in our future. 

I Think Your Friends Are Coming...

For the first part of this story, be sure to read yesterdays blog, Buanassa & Binti.

Saturday morning came and I went to town with a friend for my weekly shopping trip. I picked up 4 small packages of cookies, thinking Nunu and I would eat 2 of them and then I bought 8 larger pieces of bread thinking either each family could share it or we could easily split it in half or thirds if we had a big crowd. I also knew that I had lot of drink mix at home, so I didn’t need to buy any.

I got home and Cifa was there. We had also invited her, hoping it would just speak some to the fact that I have relationships with other women. Latino and I also talked to Cifa about her future, but that will be a whole different blog =)

I had asked Binti to come around 2:00, knowing late is the norm.  I wasn’t surprised to look at my watch and see it was 2:05. As Latinio, Cifa and Bilitte (Cifa’s son) sat there waiting, I felt like a Jr. High kid whose birthday party happened to be on the same day as the coolest kid in school… I wondered was anyone gonna show.

Latino broke the silence saying, “Uh… Manamanda, I think your friends are coming.” He sounded a little stunned. The house was blocking my view, so I leaned over to see what he was talking about and just saw a line of people snaking their way down the path to our house… lots of people. We ran inside to get another chair, to start cutting the cookies in half and start making more juice and people just – kept – on – coming! Latino looked at me and said, “I don’t think that one more chair will make a difference” and we went outside to face the crowd.

To be honest a lot of this is a blur. I know at least once my eyes watered up… writing this now they do again. I’m in awe. I just laugh, if not I would probably cry. It's one of those moments that you look at and know, this is so much bigger than me-- God is IN this moment!

Latino, Cifa and I stand in front of this crowd of people, all eyes are on me and my eyes are on all the people who have showed up. Binti is working hard to give everyone some bread and juice... did I mention that there were only 12 cups?  =)

Binti filling juice cups.

Eventually Latino and I looked at each other and said let’s just say something and hope the rest just flows out. He introduced me and explained that he would be translating, since I'm still learning Portuguese and I don't speak Macua. He told them the reason I asked Binti to invite them out today was just so we could meet and so they would all know that while my language skills aren't perfect, I'm here and I'd like to get to know them. I also wanted them to know my name, so they could use it rather than just calling me “white.”

Having really sensitive eyes, it's not to often you will find me outside without sunglasses on. Today was no exception. I also have glasses and contacts but really the only reason I ever wear contacts is so I can wear sunglasses or go swimming. Until my dad introduced me to sunglasses that fit OVER your glasses... laugh all you want. They are to practical to say no to. Anyways, someone asks why I have on sunglasses and Latino tries to explain that I have sensitive skin and eyes. The same women asks if I can take them off and when I do, revealing my other glasses, the crowd collectively gasps! It was so funny. 

At one point when I counted there were about 80 people, at least 20 of whom were adults. But after I counted another group showed up and in the end I think there were over 90 people and at least 25 adults. 

Because the crowd was so large, it was hard to do much of anything. So I asked if there was anything they wanted to know about me or if they wanted to tell me anything about their village. One of the older women spoke up. Her name is also Cifa, but she says everyone calls her Entoto (meaning mouse). She basically said there is no point in telling us about yourself, because you could say things that aren't true; over time we will learn who you are and you will learn about this village. At first I was a bit taken aback, but once I realized she was just being blunt and not rude, I could see her point.

At some point I said to them that just like they are here living in this village, so am I. I don't work with the oil companies, I just live here. If you have met white people before and you didn't like them, remember, I'm not them. Try to get to know me. The same woman spoke up and said, “We have had white people living among us before, but none of them have ever invited us to their house to meet them and see where they live. You are the first. Because of this we know you are different and we appreciate this.” How I even made it past these comments is so far beyond me, my heart races just typing up the words.

That's me on the right, looking over all these people...
Probably wondering just how this happened. 

Have you ever had a decent idea and then you see it through only to realize that it was the perfect idea? Not to take full credit for this because it was a group effort, but I don't think any of us were thinking what this would mean. I think we all just thought this would be a good icebreaker. It would be a good introduction. We didn't think about it through the eyes of those who showed up.

I'm telling you... God is at work... I'm just an instrument, but I hope the beautiful music continues to play.

At this point, I'm just like, “Okay, now what?” I say to Latino something about learning the adults’ names and before I know it I am walking around asking the adults in Macua, “what is your name (en-chin-na-wah-na-nah-tee-pa-nee)?” And I'm writing them all down phonetically, there were 24 names on my list. 

Our intention was to do this every Saturday but with this large a crowd, it's just not possible to get to know anyone or anything about them. So we ask if it would be okay to go to people's houses to see where they live and try to learn their names and their families.... so that is our plan moving forward.

If the woman speaks decent Portuguese, then Nunu and I will try to go during the week. If not we will wait and go with Latino on Saturdays.

One year ago we were raising money to make the final payment on our land. I remember this mostly because we had the potential to have $6,000 of what we raised matched and the deadline for that was on Mother's Day 2014. The fact that our meeting was on the Saturday before Mother's Day 2015 didn't escape me. If anything it just left me even more in awe of how much can happen in a year and I burst with anticipation wondering what Mother's Day 2016 will look like!

Use the window on the house for reference to where one pic starts and the
other stops. There is some overlap in the middle and then the people on
the right of the table in the bottom pic are doubles.

Buanassa & Binti

It's very common here to have a guard, but it's not really what you think. It's more like a property manager or maintenance man who can work during the day but more often works overnight. Last year Nunu hired a man named Buanassa to oversee the property... Aka guard. He comes in the late afternoon to do some yard work, starts a fire and settles in for the night. The vast majority of nights are uneventful but it is likely that if he wasn't here, our building materials and more would disappear. 

He has a gentle spirit and is a hard worker, and compared to my experience with other guards, we are truly blessed to have him.

Each night while he is working, his wife Binti brings him dinner. I quickly found out she also fetches water for us (as we don't have running water). While I often find locals hard to read, emoting one or two solemn expressions for good, bad and everything in between, not Binti... She laughs at everything! I watched my first day in amazement as she carried a bucket that must have been at least 5 gallons on her head and with absolute ease, she poured it directly into our water barrel. I thanked her for doing such hard work, and a big smile spread over her face and she giggled!

Carrying water.

She tilts the bucket right off her head
 and pours water into the barrel.

Each day Buanassa shows up and does his yard work. With Nunu in night school, jet lag combined with a lack of electricity resulted in me falling asleep shortly after sunset at 5:00. I slept easy knowing I didn't have to listen for each sound of the night, wondering if any of them were bad. One night I was awakened between 7 & 8 by some of the strangest animal noises... They were so strange I couldn't even look, I was too scared (I would be the first to admit I get irrational when I’m sleeping). Within a minute or so Buanassa was there shooing the animals off.  At one point I thought he was throwing water on them... Turns out what I was hearing was rocks flying through leaves in the trees. 

Just two nights ago, he came to the door asking Nunu out to the yard so that he could show him the snake he just killed! It was about 4’ long and the first real snake I’ve seen here… for that matter it’s the largest snake I've seen where there isn't a piece of glass between us!

I wish the picture was closer, but I couldn't bring myself to
take another step.

A few days after my arrival, Binti showed up at my door.  She didn't knock but rather in a sing-song voice said "Amiga" (friend) from my porch. I didn't even understand our whole conversation. At first I thought she was concerned about what I was eating, as I hadn't had a fire in the first 4 days of being here. Turns out she was probably asking what I ate hoping she might get some of it. :) 

She continues to stop by about every other night, always asking if I'm sleeping, which I'm not but I have showered and put on my pj's and I am hanging out on my bed, inside of our bug net. We chat a little about her kids and Nunu. While Macua is her primary language, we speak enough Portuguese to get things across... And what we can't figure out how to say we just laugh about! 

She has also moved on from only asking me about food to also asking about my clothing. Sometimes my brain translates things and I'm convinced I'm wrong... Is she really asking if she can have the pj's I'm wearing? When I pointed out I'm wearing them, she was like well tomorrow... To which I told her I wear them all nights. And to prove my point I now only sleep in those pj's with the exception of the one day they are being washed.

I sort of felt bad that night as I count the number of pj’s I have and realized I have 4. And this is where the inner struggle begins:  sure I could give her one of my pj’s but it sets up a pattern of giving and while I could tell you what is going on in my heart and mind, I can’t tell you what she is thinking. But more often than not, the more you give, the more people expect. So giving my pj’s today could mean tomorrow she asks for my purse or one of our chairs… you just never know. And since our ministry is being set up to offer hand ups and not hand outs, I feel I’ve made the best decision for now.

Back to life with Binti, honestly when I thought she was asking for my pj’s, I gave her the benefit of the doubt hoping jet lag and my Portuguese were to blame. The next day a friend of mine who speaks Macua came over and we invited Binti. In front of him she asked for the flip flops I was wearing:) I guess she operates under the motto that it doesn't hurt to ask! So while I want to help and give things, I work really hard at saying no, and only cave to give little things like an onion or some left overs.

When I first arrived and met Binti, my plan was to have Nunu talk to her and find out if there were any widows or single moms in the neighborhood and then ask Binti to take us to meet them. But upon speaking to my friend, Latino, who is from around here and therefore understands the local culture, he told me that if we tell people “we want to help,” they won’t hear that; rather, they will hear, “we want to GIVE.”

So I talked to Nunu some and we decided that we need to go about this even SLOWER than we had planned. I tell you as someone who wants to just jump right in, it’s HARD to move slowly, but I’d rather do things the right way. So we decide to ask Binti if she could invite some of the women and children in the neighborhood over the following weekend. Not really sure what to expect but hoping that 5 adults and 10 children would show up tomorrow… I thought that would be a good start in getting to know our neighborhood…

To be continue…

(Be sure to check back tomorrow to find out who shows up at our house!)

Hot Mess

Two weeks back in Moz and I’d love to tell you how perfect it is… but there have been a few bumps. In reality all the issues are manageable and I’m still so happy to be back. I assure you much of this post is written in jest. Sure, things could be better but bottom line is Nunu and I are happy and healthy!

My first few nights we drifted off into peaceful sleep to bountiful breezes off the Indian Ocean coupled by the hum of our generator and fan. Dealing with the vast temperature change from Michigan to Moz can take its toll and so as I would roll over in bed grabbing at my sheet because I was cold, I would smile, thankful for the chills… considering them to be a blessing.

The openings for our windows aren't perfectly square and because of this the screens don’t sit just right and often there is a small crack of the worst size possible… mosquito! After a few nights and a few more mosquito bites than I can handle, we decided to start sleeping in a bug net. I also went in search of the bug spray I had left behind last year, ready to sleep with it on but came up empty handed.

The generator started pulsing and we decided better to not use it until we had it looked at, which meant a few nights with no fan. Little did you know that fans are not just to keep you cool but also to blow the mosquitos around… so it’s harder for them to land on you =)

A few days ago the bug bites started getting out of control, even with the net I kept getting more and they were itching like CrAZy… I kept thinking to myself, “These itch SO MUCH MORE than American mosquito bites!!! Or “Maybe I have developed an allergy to mosquitos?!?” Walking through anything grass-like is a form of torture; as each blade touches my ankle, it ignites what is the most intense desire to scratch off my skin. The itching is so bad, that it feels good to scratch even an inch away from the bite.

Nunu on the other hand who likes to sleep with a sheet covering him from head to toe has very minimal bites. It was then that Time Hop (a smart phone app that shows you pictures and updates from social media from the same date last year) reminded me of those nasty bites I had exactly one year ago. Could it be? That would explain the INSANE itching I’m experiencing?

The 3 bites on the left looking more and
more like blisters as I scratch.

 I did a search online and after my shower decided I would put toothpaste and bandages over ALL of my bites and change all our bedding. Hoping to dry the bites out (or something) but also with the Band-Aid I’m able to walk in the yard without worrying about the grass getting to my bites and more importantly I can move around in bed not worrying about how one leg might touch the other.

I slept well with all my bandages and only had some minor itching. The next morning I rolled back a few Band-Aids only to realize that indeed some of my bites were not mosquito. The mosquito bites improved and just looked normal. But then the bites that were looking more like blisters had flattened and turned purple… my best guess mite bites.

After a night with toothpaste all weird bites
turn purple-ish. Only one mosquito bite
in this group (center sort of right)

Between meetings and spending my hottest hours of the day outside, I spent most of Friday under a mango tree. Not my typical cashew tree because the guys working on the septic tank were under there. Almost every day since my arrival I have spent a couple hours under a tree, the only problem being a few pesky flies.

I guess it would be just after noon, I noticed that my arms were a little pink and so I went in and put some sunscreen on my arms, face and chest. I didn't bother with my legs because they never get as much sun as my arms and face. In the last 15 years I would guess that I've been slightly burnt on my legs twice, even on days when the rest of me is absolutely fried!

By the end of the day, it was obvious that I was burnt, very burnt. Not only that but I also had some amazing Band-Aid outlines! If I had to pick two words to sum up my look it would be… hot mess.

So much for my bandaids being a secret.

The good news is that the mite bites don’t itch anymore and so while the sunburn is painful and left me with sore limbs feeling like jello… it could be worse. There is something about living surrounded by blatantly obvious poverty: it gives you perspective on a daily… no hourly basis. Sure this situation stinks and I’d rather not be dealing with it, but it’s life.

Then there is also the fact that we have a goal and it’s much bigger than sunburns and bug bites… it’s much bigger than us. So we push forward past the pain, knowing that of course there will be bumps in the road. Pretty fitting for a girl whose favorite verse is Philippians 3:13b-14… “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

So we press on and continue to build the ministry that God has called us to… and ask that you would remember us in your prayers.

No lecture needed. Lesson learned,
sunblock first thing every day!