June 25 & 26 - The Trip North

June 25 – We were up at 5:00 this morning and headed out onto the highway around 6:00, our first destination being the town of Catandica on the road heading north to Tete. We arrived there around 8:00am and made contact with our district superintendent, Rev. João Crosse, another former student (graduated in 1998), along with his wife, Argentina. He had planted the church in Catandica after graduation and when he was named superintendent two years ago, he turned the church over to another of our graduates who unfortunately was not home that day oweing to it being Mozambique’s Independence Day. We visited with the Crosse family for about an hour before heading back to the highway and making our way north again, the next destination being the village of Nhacolo on the banks of the Zambezi River. The turn off to Nhacolo was about 80km (50 miles) north of Catandica, and although Rev. Crosse told us what to look for, we still went right past the turn off before we realized we’d missed it. We turned around and sure enough, there was a small sign indicating the direction we wanted to go. For the next three hour or so, we drove along what was little more than a one-lane sand track through the Mozambican bush. We passed one small village with some old, run down buildings from the colonial period, and some newly built government buildings and a school, but mostly what we saw were mud-brick houses with grass roofs. We passed many stately baobab trees along the way, crossed through dry steam beds and even crossed one completely dry river that was at last 400 meters wide – and not a drop of water seen until we got within a few kilometers of Nhacolo where we had to ford a stream lined with people taking baths and washing their clothes and kids just generally having a good time in the water. Of course, they all stopped what they were doing to watch us pass through. We were going to visit the Dias family. José Manuel Dias was a 2003 graduate and had worked in our yard when we moved to the house on the Seminary campus. We had gone through reconstructive surgery on their son’s hands while here (all of his fingers on both hands were joined with webs of skin) and they also had a little girl that they named after Rhoda, so we wanted to see them if we could. By the time we had reached Nhacolo, we had traveled just over 130 kilometers (81 miles) over that sand track, and we were going to have to repeat it to get back to the main highway!

We had a lovely but short visit with Mama Rosalina and the children, but Rev. Dias had gone to a family’s house where there had been a death. She gave us directions on where to find him – we had passed that way on the road to their home – so we set off on the return trip hoping to find him, and sure enough, just before passing through the water, we found the turn off and found Dias sitting under some trees with the bereaved family. He was overjoyed to see us and we had an all too brief reunion there under the trees, and then we had to set off again over the dirt track. We were impressed by the large number of homesteads that we passed that had no signs of anyone living there – no chickens, no signs of fires for cooking, no implements lying around the yard, thatched roofs in disrepair. We could only come up with two possible reasons – the families had moved closer to the villages to have access to schools, or the parents had died of AIDS and the children had gone to live with relatives. The later is often the case these days all over Africa.

Before we got back to the main highway night had set in and we finished the last few kilometers on the dirt road in the dark. We turned north again and headed for Tete – 150 kilometers (95 miles) on up the road. The first 35 miles were atrocious as we had to cross over a range of mountains with a highway that was full of craters filled with dirt that produced clouds of dust as the huge tractor trailers headed toward Malawi. The edges of the highway were crumbling and we had to make our way very carefully along. It seemed like the experience would never end. Finally, at the bottom of a long grade we reached the town of Changara with its turn-off to Zimbabwe to the west. We continued on north, now on good highway and able to do about 60 mph with very little traffic until we reached the outskirts of the city of Tete. Here we contacted the wife of our Area Coordinator for Tete Province, Agnes Banda, (she and her husband Albino were 2000 graduates) and got directions to their church and home where we would be staying for the next few days. They had a lovely dinner all prepared for us with chicken, rice, fried potatoes, meat curry and salad. It was wonderful! After dinner and a good wash, we were shown to our room, complete with air conditioner! However, being winter, there was no need for any air conditioner! Blankets were more the order of the day, even for Tete, notoriously the hottest place in Mozambique; in summer it often reaches 50oC (120 oF).

26 June – It was an early morning wake-up call today as we were planning to head to our district center on the Furuncungo-Macanga District, about 180km (115 miles) north of Tete city. After a breakfast of bread and fried eggs and tossed salad, we headed north crossing the Zambezi River on the only highway bridge across the river in Mozambique. It was built in the 1930’s and is not in the greatest condition. They only allow one heavy tractor trailer on the bridge at a time, and their speed is limited to 15mph. After 25 miles on the tar road, we turned off and again were traveling on dirt and gravel roads. This was going to be a much more troublesome road than the previous day’s dirt road. The road had not been worked on since the rainy season and so there were many places with deep ruts and exposed rocks and pot holes and craters to be avoided and driven around. There was much jostling in the pick-up as we made our way up and over the mountains and then down through lush green valleys. Frequently we were in thick forests on the mountain slopes with beautiful vistas seen from among the trees. Finally, after about three hours on the road, we made it to the mission at Furuncungo. The last missionaries to have served there were Oscar and Marjorie Stockwell who were forced to leave during the war for independence back in the early 1970’s.

We were welcomed by the wife of the district superintendent, Graciosa Derezina (1999 graduates). Her husband, Elias, was attending the General Assembly in Florida so was not there. (He’d been in Maputo when we departed on this epic journey!) A service had been planned and about 12 former students from all over the district had come in to welcome us, one even riding his bicycle for two days and 200 kilometers (125 miles) to be there. We understood why his wife wasn’t there too! Other pastors from nearby churches also came along with a number of church members. It wasn’t every day that a missionary came to visit in Macanga, and those who could, wanted to be there. We were also there to give a report on the Seminary. We had a lovely service with special music, and choirs. We showed our display boards with photos of the Seminary and Dave preached a message about Zacchaeus. The real surprise was when Mama Derezina presented us with a live goat in gratitude for Dave’s intercession with the American embassy in Maputo when Rev. Elias had a problem getting his visa to go to general assembly. We were must humbled by the warm and gracious reception we received there in Macanga.

After the service were fed a lovely dinner at the Derezina’s home before starting our trip back to Tete. The big question was how to best deal with the goat? Agnes Banda and Pastor Rosário from Tete who had accompanied suggested that the pastors butcher the poor thing right there on the spot and then we could take the meat with us in a cooler, so that is what was done. We got everything packed up and about 3pm we headed back down the hill to start our trip back to Tete. We were anxious to get off the dirt road before dark, or at least to get off the mountains. The roads were not conducive to hurrying, however, and they seemed to have gotten worse after we passed over them in the morning. In one particularly awkward place there was a huge rock right in the middle of the road. I thought we could straddle it, but didn’t see the rut to one side and we hit it square on with a loud THUD and a whopping jolt to the front of the truck. It shook us all, but we passed over it and the engine kept running, so we just carried on. We went for about five minutes more and with another shake of the truck and the engine abruptly died. What do we do now, out in the middle of nowhere? I got out and opened the hood (bonnet) and saw that the battery had come loose from its normal position (the bar holding it in place had come loose) and slide over against the air conditioning pipes shorting out the whole electrical system. I pushed the battery back into place, tightened down the securing bar, checked underneath to make sure no oil was leaking (none was) and then checked the oil level in the engine – normal – got back in behind the wheel and tried to start the engine. She fired up as if nothing had happened. Everything seemed normal, and off we went. There were some funny things happening along the way but they were sporadic so we just continued on, taking it easy and carefully. Soon we were off the mountains onto more level terrain and the road got better and soon we were back out to the tar. Whew! By now it was dark and we finally made it to the Tete bridge, crossed the wide Zambezi, filled up the tank for the next day’s journey out to Fingoe, and then made our way back to the Banda’s house for a dinner of chicken and rice, fried potatoes, curry and salad. We were glad to roll into bed that night, and didn’t know a thing until 4am the next morning when it was time to get up and get ready for another day on the road.