Installment 4 of THE JOURNEY: Our Trip to Northern Mozambique – 29 June to 1 July, 2009

29 June – Monday was the day to continue our journey and today’s destination was Milange in Zambésia, across on the other side of Malawi. We had a quick breakfast and got the last few things loaded into the back of the truck and then, after our words of thanks and farewell, we climbed into the truck and headed for the bridge across the Zambezi River and the road north.

We’d had word that our church in Zobué, right on the Malawi border with Tete, wanted us to stop on the way for a brief visit. Pastor Efeti Cebola, one of our graduates from last year, would accompany us to show us the way. It was about a two-hour drive to Zobué, and we had to deal with our exit at the Mozambique border post before we even got to the church. The border there passes through some rough mountains and so the border posts are about three kilometers apart, and the village of Zobué is between them.

We got to the church at 10:30am and the pastor met us with a warm welcome. We told him that we really needed to be on the way by noon at the latest because we had to get across Malawi and get to Milange for a pastor’s retreat in the evening. His reply was, “No problem.” He escorted us to his home a short walk up the hill from the church. It was a bit of a wait before everything was ready and around 11am we were served a lovely meal of rice, chicken, corn meal porridge, meat curry and fried potatoes. I kept looking at my watch and the time was passing, and at 11:30am we headed back to the church that, by now, was full of people waiting for the service to begin. I figured we could leave by 12:30pm and we’d still make it OK, so I tried to relax. Rhoda kept telling me, “This is of the Lord so just relax. Everything will work out just fine.”

We started our with a hymn and a prayer and another hymn, then the pastor introduced us. We gave a report of the Seminary and Rhoda and Mama Uate gave their testimonies and I was getting ready to get up to give an abbreviated sermon, but then the pastor called for the ladies choir to sing. About 15 ladies stood up and promptly left the church. Outside they got organized and then began to march back in singing. They were dressed in white blouses the traditional capulanas – wrap around cloths used for skirts – with the Church of the Nazarene emblems printed on them in blue. They were very attractive! Once on the platform, they presented their three special songs, and then they marched out singing again. I got ready to get up to speak, and the pastor announced that they young people from a neighboring church were going to give a special. About 8 young people dressed in matching purple shirts stood up and left the church. Again, once outside, they got organized and then began to march back in singing. They came up to the platform and also sang three specials before marching out singing. Again I got ready to speak but yet another singing group was announced, so I tried to relax and enjoy the music, all the while the hands on my watch kept moving forward. By the time we had finished the service, had said our farewells and were ready to leave for the Malawi border post, it was 2:30pm! The pastor went with us to help us negotiate the Malawi immigration and customs process and it’s a good thing he did. As it was, we didn’t finish and leave the border post until 3:30pm. It took a full 45 minutes just to process the temporary import of our vehicle, and that for the 250 Km (150 miles) trip across to the other side of the country!

We got into Blantyre around 4:30pm and headed for the offices of SIM - Serving in Mission - a sister missionary organization. Missionary friends in northern Zambésia where we would be staying on Wednesday had asked us to stop to pick up their mail there in Blantyre, and we were glad to help them out. We figured it would be a bag with a few letters – no big deal. Little did we know! The missionary greeted us with, “We sure are glad you’re here. We’re running out of space!” In the end, there were about 25 medium sized boxes with books, a couple of mail bags, other parcels and a bag with a few letters! When we pulled out of there 15 minutes later, the back of the truck was packed tight!
We had thought about stopping to get some more bottled water and biscuits (cookies) for the journey, but time was passing and we were in the Blantyre rush-hour traffic so we forgot that idea. By the time we finally left Blantyre behind, it was past 6pm and it was dark already. And Malawi has almost no highway direction signs so we were trying to remember which route to take from our trip through there four years ago! Finally, we came to a police traffic control and I asked him, “Is this the highway to Milange?” He confirmed that it was. We breathed a sigh of relief and continued on our way dodging bicyclists on our side of the highway and cars and trucks with their high beams bright coming at us on the other side of the highway. Then it started raining!

Fortunately, the farther we traveled, the lighter the traffic and with the rain, heavy at times, there were fewer bicycles. We came to a small town and since I had about 3000 Malawian Kwacha in my pocket, I wanted to spend it before we crossed the border. I pulled into a filling station to get some diesel and spend my Kwachas and I asked the attendant what time the border closed. He wasn’t sure but said he thought it was 7pm. We had less than an hour to get there, and it was still about 80 kilometers (50 miles) down the road, IF we could believe the road sign we’d seen a short while back. We continued on toward the border, passing among the famous Malawian tea plantations which we couldn’t see at all. After about 40 minutes, we pulled up short at another police control post. The officer asked where we were going and I told him, “Milange.” He said, “Well, you won’t make it there tonight. The border closed at 6pm. I suggest you go to the lodge up the road on the right and see if they have room, or you could go back to the last town where there is a motel.” Ugh!

We discussed it among ourselves and decided we would go to the lodge and see if we could phone our district superintendent in Milange and get his advice. We found the lodge and the night watchman opened the big steel gates to let us into the parking area. The place was not much to look at really. I found some people in a meeting room and asked where reception was, and they pointed me in the direction of a little run-down office on the edge of the building. I asked if they had any rooms and the guy said they did and the cost would be 2500 Kwacha. I asked if he took credit cards or dollars (I’d spent my kwacha on diesel about an hour before), and he said they didn’t, only Kwacha. Then I asked if they had a telephone, and again he said they didn’t. I went back to the car, through the rain, to discuss our options.

The ladies figured that the worst that would happen would be that we’d sleep in the car at the border, and there would be able to access the Mozambique cellular phone network and talk to our district superintendent, Rev. Benjamim Banda. So we set off for the border figuring it would be another 30 minutes or so. Well, 10 kilometers later we came to the Malawian border gate – closed! It wasn’t as far away as we thought it was.

There were some guards there and I got out to talk with them and they confirmed that the border closed at 6pm, BUT, they said, “If you want to go and talk to the chief of customs, maybe he’ll authorize us to let you through.” So, off into the nighttime darkness we went, down a little lane and to the home of the chief of customs. I explained our situation, that we needed to get to a pastors’ meeting in Milange, etc. He said, “Well, it is out of the ordinary to open the border after hours, but if the chief of immigration will deal with your passports, you can just leave your vehicle permit with the guards and we’ll process it in the morning.” One down; three to go!

Next we headed to the home of the chief of immigration. The guard knocked on the door and as it was opened, the smell of dinner cooking wafted into the night air. I thought, “Oh no, we’re interrupting the guys dinner! There won’t be a positive answer here!” But no, after telling the story yet again, the chief said to head on over to the immigration office and he’d be right there. Just a few minutes later, he and his assistant arrived, escorted us around to the back of the building, unlocked the door and ushered me into the immigration offices. He gave me some forms to fill out and I presented them with our passports which he stamped and handed back to me. He told the guards that all was now in order, he could open the gate and let us pass through. Whew! Now we had to deal with the Mozambican authorities!

It was about a half a kilometer through a sort of no-man’s land to the Mozambican border post. Lights were still on, but no one was around. We’d phoned Rev. Banda from the Malawian side and he said to call again if we got out of Malawi, so we phoned him once our passports were stamped. About ten minutes after arriving at the Mozambican side of the border, and after talking to the night guards, we heard motorcycles approaching through the darkness, and saw two headlights coming around the bend. Rev. Banda and Pastor Leonel Saimone, one last November’s graduates, both with a pastor riding behind them, arrived to try to help us get through the border.

Rev. Banda went to the home of the Mozambican official and explained the situation and to see if they would let us pass through on to Milange, but they didn’t want to be bothered and told him that the chief had gone home and took the keys with him and there was nothing they could do. However, they did say that we could go on into the town of Milange for the night, leave our truck at the border, and come back the next morning to deal with the passports and bring the truck through. We had decided that we’d just stay with the truck all night and sleep there, but Rev. Banda wouldn’t hear of it. He had reservations for us at a pensão (like a little hotel) in town and he’d take us there and some pastors would stay with the truck. So, Rhoda and Mama Uate got the few things that we would need for the night, then they awkwardly climbed onto the back of a motorcycle, and off into the darkness they went leaving me at the border with the two pastors, both of whom could speak Chichewa, but no Portuguese or English. We communicated the best we could and waited on the porch of the border post out of the rain until the two pastors returned on their motorcycles. About 40 minutes later, we heard the sound of the motorcycles returning and then it was my turn. Three pastors stayed and slept in our truck for the night and Rev. Banda took me into Milange, about 5 kilometers from the border post, where I met up with the ladies at the pensão. By the time I got there, I was freezing cold and half wet through from the rain, but soon warmed up. Rev. Banda brought us some supper and hot water to make tea, and we finished our supper around 10pm. We had missed the service for the pastor’s retreat, but we had made it to Milange. It sure was nice to snuggle under the blankets and sleep in a warm and comfortable bed. We felt bad for the pastors who would spend the night in our pick-up, but they wouldn’t hear of anything else. What an adventure!

30 June – Tuesday morning dawned rather cloudy and foggy. I was up to meet Rev. Banda at 5:30am for the ride back out to the border to get the truck. The border opened at 6am and I was there when they opened and was the first one to process through. They asked me rather bewilderedly, “Are you coming in or going out?” I told them I was coming in and then the penny dropped, “Oh, you’re the one with that truck that spent the night here!” Things were done quickly and soon I was taking the pastors to the church to drop them off before going to get the ladies. By 8am we were all at the Banda’s house having a nice breakfast of bread and tea and boiled manioc. The service started at 9am and there must have been at least 200 people there for the service, some having come by bicycle from 150 kilometers away. The back of the church was full of bicycles, parked there for safety and to be out of the rain. There are 252 churches on this district, but not all of the pastors were able to make it for the meetings. It was a great time of celebration and praise. Everyone was so enthusiastic and excited to be there together to worship and praise the Lord, and to learn something new about serving the Lord. It was humbling, really, to be the one they had come all that way to hear speak.

Though it was chilly and rainy outside, there was a warm spirit in the church as we began our time together. The Lord blessed our worship time and then we began the teaching session. Rev. Banda has asked me beforehand to prepare to teach on the Manual of the church and in the end I opted to do a teaching session on the Articles of Faith. I needed to keep it fairly simple because it all needed to be interpreted into Chichewa, and yet I wanted to give them some “meat” to chew on as well. I taught from 10am to noon, and we took a brief break. Rev. Banda said we’d just go on with the session till about 2pm or so without breaking for lunch. We’d have lunch at the end and then some of the pastors would prepare to return to their homes, the rest planning to visit and then leave at first light the next morning. So, we kept on teaching until about 2:30pm, and then had a question and answer session till about 3pm.

After our late lunch we had a chance to just visit with the Bandas and also with Leonel and his wife, Argentina. They were only married last December and are sort of “missionaries” there in Milange. Leonel is originally from Nampula and Argentina is from Gaza. Both speak different languages and come from different cultures, so they are having to adapt to life among the Chichewa people and to learn their language. It hasn’t been easy for them, but the Lord is helping. It was nice to be able to be with them and to encourage them. Argentina especially appreciated having Mama Uate there as they are both Shangaans and speak the same language.

It was about 8pm before we finally finished up our visit, had a little snack of bread and tea and headed back to the pensão. I was able to get the bill paid and we got some hot water for a bit more tea before turning in for the night. It had been a long day, but a wonderful day of sharing with pastors and with our former students and seeing how the Lord is using them to build His kingdom in this corner of Mozambique.

1 July – We were up at a fairly early hour this morning and got packed up for the next leg of our journey to Gurué in the northern part of Zambésia. First I headed for the filling station to fill up with fuel and to see about a tire that appeared to be low on air. I found a mechanic’s workshop and they pulled the wheel and checked for leaks, but pronounced it fine with no problems, so they just checked my tire pressure all around and I was finished. From there I picked up the ladies at the pensão and we headed to the Banda’s home for breakfast and to say our farewells. We weren’t in too much of a hurry today since we had no meetings scheduled and the drive to Gurué was estimated at about 5 hours, even though it would all be over dirt roads. In the end, we got away from Milange around 9am, heading northeast out of town over a narrow dirt road passing among cultivated fields and small homesteads scattered across the countryside. This was new territory for all of us – we’d never been this way before – so we were anxious to find out what this part of the country was like.

The rain of the previous few days proved quite helpful on this leg of the journey. The road surface had been packed down and for a dirt road, was relatively smooth. Also, there was no dust to speak of as we traveled along. It was still somewhat cloudy, but it was a bit warmer as we had frequent breaks in the clouds allowing the sun to shine through. There were quite long stretches where there were few houses, and those we did see were mostly made of fired mud bricks with thatched roofs. Now and then the houses would start to get closer together and then we would find ourselves entering a little village with a few stores, a primary school, a government office and maybe a clinic and a couple of churches. There would be little “barracas” – small, rudely built stands made of branches, boards, some sheet metal or plastic – set up along the road from which vendors sold their wares – soap, cookies, canned goods, plastic ware such as bowls, basins and buckets, garden implements such as hoe heads, shovels, and rakes, used clothing, capulanas, even bicycles and imported Chinese motorcycles! There were also a number of weighing scales suspended from trees or from the porches of a shop where people would bring their produce to be sold – beans, peanuts, corn, sweet potatoes, and tobacco. We saw many of these weighing scales along the road, even outside the village areas. Buyers in large trucks would traverse this section of road buying up the produce and then taking it to the nearest town or city to sell. We passed through several of these small villages, none of which were indicated on the maps we had. We did come to one larger village, a small town really – Molumbo - nestled in the shadow of a soaring granite monolith. The buildings were similar to most we had seen, and there were a number of buildings in various stages of disrepair that were left over from the Portuguese colonial period. It was all very interesting to see and experience.

In Molumbo we headed east running parallel to a series of these granite monoliths that rose suddenly from the plains that we were crossing heading toward Gurué. They were quite high and extended for some distance off to the east. The road following the gently rolling countryside and there were occasional little streams along the way. Most of these we crossed with concrete culverts but we came up short when we crested one hill and there at the bottom was a “bridge” about 15 feet across to the other side. It wasn’t a real bridge, but a challenge! Actually, it was composed of four steel beams about 6 inches wide. There were two placed side by side to the left, and two more placed side by side to the right. However, the distance between these two steel spans was equal to the track of a small truck, and about a foot wider than the track of our Toyota. In between these two steel spans were placed about 12 tree trunks or large branches, up to about 8 inches in diameter. Some were larger than others. None were exactly straight. There were sizable gaps in between them. And none of them looked like they would support the weight of a loaded pick-up! We walked across the steel beams and judged the distances between our wheels trying to figure out which trunk would be the most stable and the sturdiest. None of them looked to reassuring. Some young guys who appeared assured us that people crossed here all the time with no problem at all. We could just picture one of those tree trunks breaking under the weight and leaving our vehicle resting on his frame with the wheels dangling in mid air, and us wondering how in the world we would get it out of there.

When in doubt and you don’t know what to do, you pray. So we prayed and asked the Lord for guidance, and we asked Him to put His hand under those tree trunks! I lined up the left wheels on one of the steel beams, and the right wheels on what appeared to be the sturdiest of the trunks and slowly edged my way onto the “bridge”. Rhoda couldn’t bear to watch. Mama Uate said that the tree trunk sagged noticeably when I drove onto it. I didn’t notice from my position behind the wheel but I just kept it moving and in seconds I was on terra firma again. With a sigh of relief, the ladies climbed back in and we continued our journey on to Gurué.

A couple of more hours later we began passing through the low bushes of the Zambésia tea plantations and we knew we were getting near to Gurué, famous in Mozambique for its tea. Gurué is a district administrative town in the north of Zambésia Province and is quite an old town. The Portuguese developed the area considerably during the colonial period. It is near to a mountain range with a great view of the mountains. The climate is unique to that area of the country which makes it possible to grow tea around Gurué. We were headed there to visit the Fosters – Stuart, Sindia and Luke – SIM missionaries working among the Lomwé speaking people. Stuart is a linguist and is working on the translation of the Bible in the Lomwé language. The New Testament was translated nearly 100 years ago and it is being revised, but they are also working on the Old Testament which has never been translated. Stuart was not home when we visited as he was in another part of the province working with the translating committee. The Fosters rent a small house on the grounds of a Roman Catholic technical school. The Catholics also have guest accommodation that they make available for a reasonable price. We had made arrangements to stay there and funny enough, it was right next door to the Foster’s house. Sindia Foster graciously received us and provided us with a lovely dinner, and we were also able to unload all of the mail that we had collected for them in Blantyre. Gurué is surrounded by high mountains and the tallest, Mount Namuli, has become fairly well know lately in conservation circles as being a place where numerous new and previously unknown plant species have been discovered. We had a comfortable nights sleep and made plans for an early departure the next morning. We were to head to Cuambe in Niassa Province where we were scheduled to attend our first of eight district assemblies. It was to prove to be an interesting day!