Finally, the end of the saga of the trip north. Here is the last installment.

Installment 8 of THE JOURNEY: Our Trip to Northern Mozambique – 23 June to 16 July, 2009

Monday, July 13th – We were up around 5am this morning to get ready for our departure for points south, specifically, Mocuba, in Zambézia Province. We hoped to be there around 1pm at the latest. We had a bite of breakfast with Busi and the kids. Since we had packed most of the things the night before, all we had to do this morning was to load the luggage in the back of the truck in preparation to leave.

It was about 6am that we backed out of the driveway and headed toward the main road south. On the way, we stopped briefly to visit one of our former student families, António and Benilta Sariava and their kids. We met them out near their home where they had come out to the highway to see us. We had seen António at the district assembly, but we had not seen Mama Saraiva or the children, and they had all wanted to see us as well. We took some pictures of the family and chatted briefly, and then we were back on the road headed south.

About 10 kilometers out of the town of Murrupula, we telephoned to another of our former students that we had not been able to see. Alberto Samuel had been in the hospital with an abscess on his leg during the assembly and had been able to be there. We called to see if he was at home and if it would be convenient to stop briefly to visit. Of course, he would be delighted to see us and we arranged a place to meet on the main highway so he could show us the way to their home. A few minutes later we met at the designated place and after a few minutes later, Alberto appeared and we made our way to their home and the church in Murrupula. We had a lovely visit with the Samuel family. Their kids are all grown up now and we would not have known them they have changed so much. We walked the short distance to see the church building – another mud brick building with thatched roof. Before we left them, they insisted on giving us a bag of peanuts and some pumpkins to take along with us. We had a word of prayer together and then we were on our way back out to the main highway to continue our way south.

It was about 9:30am that we turned onto the main road and headed south again with another 300 kilometers to travel to reach our destination. The highway was quite good for most of the journey. It had been rebuilt in the previous year and so the surface was good an the bridges were new. We passed the town of Alto Molócué and the road through town left a lot to be desired, but outside town, the road improved. About 20km south of Alto Molócué, we saw something we’ve never seen before. Trundling up the highway headed the opposite direction was a bicycle with a platform built across the back with a mattress. Someone was lying on the mattress, obviously ill, and the guy was evidently heading for the hospital in town. This was another of the strange loads we saw being carried on bicycles during this trip to the North.

About 80 kilometers out of Mocuba, the good road “died”. The renovation project had come to an end and we were back onto old road, which meant part pavement and part potholes. I wouldn’t say it was 50/50; sometimes there were more potholes than pavement. About the best we could was 30 kilometers an hour and it really slowed us down. We had hoped to reach Mocuba by noon but at noon we were still about 40 kilometers out of town. We were encouraged to see that they were working on this part of the highway, but it meant that we had detours to the right and left and back again at times as we slowly made our way through the red dust thrown up by others who were also headed south. Eventually, we reached the outskirts of Mocuba and the road surface improved measurably. We were back onto a solid tarmac highway and were able to pick up the speed to about 90 kilometers per hour. We crossed the bridge over the Lugela River and were surprised to see a brand new, wide, paved street rising up through the center of town from the bridge to the central plaza of the town! We were in Mocuba in January of 2006 when one of our students from that district died shortly after arriving at the Seminary. Along with another faculty couple, we had transported the coffin and the family of the deceased student back to Mocuba in a marathon 72 hour journey. At that time, the main street was little more than broken pieces of pavement and potholes. Now it was like driving on a carpet!

Our district center is just off the main central plaza and we pulled into the yard just after 1pm. Manuel Vale and Lidia were expecting us along with some of the pastors. We had a lovely lunch together and then headed back through town and out to our church at Cruzamento Bive for a district pastors’ meeting. On the way, we stopped to fill up with diesel – get while the getting is good! (We didn’t want a repeat of Chimoio!). At the church we met a number of our former students, now pastors here in the Mocuba area, as well as a number of lay pastors from around the district. We had a lovely time of praise and celebration together, and we also were able to share some of the news from the Seminary with our former students.
After the service we drove another 7 kilometers out into the country side to see the home of one of our graduate families from last year, Afonso and Rosa Chaves. In the middle of their senior year, they got word that they house and everything they had left behind had been destroyed in a fire. Naturally, they were shattered to receive that news. We contacted the district superintendent, Manuel Vale Afonso, to see if there was anything we could do to help rebuild the house. He told us that the district was able to rebuild the walls (made of clay bricks which they make and fire themselves) but that they could use some help with the roof. We took a collection among the students and faculty here at the Seminary, and members of a visiting Work & Witness contributed, and we were able to raise enough to put a proper corrugated steel roof on the house. We got to there house about 5pm and although it was starting to get dark, we were able to see it and all of their kids, except for one son who was off visiting friends. He did not know we were coming to the house after the pastors meeting.

After a brief word of prayer, we headed back to the district center for dinner and a time of fellowship with former students. We stayed till about 9pm visiting and then made our way just up the street to the home of missionaries from the Dutch Reformed Church in Holland, Gus and Laura Vos, who are doing theological education in the area. They have a small guest flat made from a 40-foot shipping container. We have stayed there before and had arranged to stay there again on this trip. It has two bedrooms, a bathroom with shower, and a little kitchenette – just enough for a couple and a single lady traveling around Mozambique together!
After a quick cup of tea to end the day, the lights were turned out, and so were we all.

Tuesday, July 14th – We were up and loaded to go at 6am this morning, and after a brief breakfast with Manuel Vale Afonso and Lidia, we were headed south out of town making for the Zambezi River, about 250 kilometers away. We wanted to be across the river and in the village of Caia by 1pm if possible so that we could get a place to stay for the night. Accommodation is scarce in Caia, and with the building of the new bridge across the river, business was booming. The road south of Mocuba has been improved over the past couple of years so we were able to make good time. We did stop briefly in Namacurra to try to see former students, Evaristo and Lucia Branquinho, and their family. The kids were at home and seemed a bit stunned to have us drive into the yard, but mom and dad were not at home. They did not know that we were going to be passing through and we had not phoned ahead as we did not know how much time we would have.

After a brief stop, we continued on toward the river. A we made just a quick stop for fuel at Nicuadala – you never know if there will be fuel ahead, so you take every opportunity to fill up the tank when you get it.. Then we were off on the next leg of the journey. This route passes through some desolate territory. Although you see occasional homesteads along the way, most of the people in this area of Zambezia Province live along the coast or along the river, and we were cutting cross-country toward the river. We could tell we were getting near the river as population density increased. Finally, coming around a bend, we caught sight of the flood plains on the other side of the river and then the main channel below. The road was much improved here and then around another bend, there was the newly built Armando Quebuza Bridge stretching off in the distance and crossing the Zambezi River. It looked like we could just go right on across the river! I slowed down to figure out what would be the best thing to do – previously there was a slip road off to the right leading down to the ferryboat landings. I was ready to proceed, when there in the middle of the road was a little “Do Not Enter” sign, all of eight inches in diameter, perched on top of a little thin post with a tripod at its base. It would have been so nice to just sail right on over the river across that bridge, but we obeyed the sign, took the dirt lane off to the right, and descended down to the makeshift wooden stalls toward the ferry slip. The ferry had just come in and was unloading vehicles. We passed a couple of huge tractor trailer rigs parked along the side and following instructions from the ferry guides, took up a position for smaller vehicles near the loading area. As far as we could see, there was only one other small vehicle waiting to cross. It was 11:30am and we were sure we would be across to the other side by 1pm. The other small vehicle in front of us was signaled to proceed and onto the boat he went. A couple of medium sized lorries were instructed to follow, then a big semi-trailer truck. And then the ferry left! Hey, what about us?!

We were sure it would be back and that we’d go on the next trip, but the ferry did not return. We sat in the hot sun waiting and waiting and waiting, but no ferryboat. There was another ferry running back and forth across the river but it was only carrying construction vehicles. It was interesting to watch it, but it was not any help in our getting across. There were also construction and official looking vehicles crossing the bridge up above us, and seeing them only made us wish we had continued straight across, claiming that we never did see that little sign in the middle of the road! We finally learned that the ferryboat stops running every day from noon to 2:30pm for lunch. Ah, those Portuguese traditions die hard! There can 200 vehicles lined up and waiting to cross the river, but if you get there between noon and 2:30pm, it’s just too bad. Trucks have been known to spend a week there at the river waiting for their turn in the queue to get across the river. And this is the ONLY place to cross the river other than at Tete, about 500 kilometers up-river from Caia.

Watching through our binoculars, we saw vehicles on the other side of the river start to move onto the ferry, and then it was coming out of the dock and heading to our side. Another smaller vehicle tired to move on ahead of us, but the load master signaled for him to stay put and motioned for us to head onto the ferry, right up to the front. Rhoda and Mama Uate had to get out and wait on the stern of the boat, but I was to stay in the vehicle for the ride across. About 15 minutes later, we were making our way into the dock and then driving off the ferry and up the bank to a waiting area. After a few minutes, Rhoda and Mama Uate arrived and we were off into Caia. It was 3pm.

The district superintendent, Fernando Gimo, was waiting for us at the main turn-off into town. We stopped and greeted him and he said he had arranged for a place for us to stay and that we should follow him on his motorcycle. He led us down a narrow lane for about 2 kilometers and finally we came to the parking area of a lovely, newly built guest lodge. He dashed inside and we followed, desperate for the restrooms, and we were soon more desperate when the owner said, “I’m sorry, but others from the government came ahead of you and we gave the rooms to them.” So many government officials were coming to town to see the new bridge that guest rooms were at a premium, or non-existent. There was nothing else for us to do but follow the superintendent back into town. We made our way to his home that is right next to the church. He did made visits to several other places in town that rent rooms, but everything was filled up. We told him not to worry. He had done the very best that he could do. We would just sleep in the car that night and we would be fine.

We met with a small group of former students that had come from some distance away, and there were some lay pastors and folk from the local church. We opened the board shutters on the windows of the church to let more light in, and started a service. The sun goes down quickly in Mozambique in mid-winter and by 5:30pm the church was dark, so the service did not last that long. We adjourned to the yard in front of the superintendent’s house and enjoyed visiting with our former students and getting caught up to date on what their children were doing. Around 7pm we were called into the house for a meal of stewed chicken, rice and corn meal porridge. We enjoyed the food and the fellowship and then returned outside for more visiting.

By 9pm people were getting tired and some of the visitors made moves to call it a day. Some were going to sleep in the church. Some of the kids occupied a tent that had been set up outside the church. We used the “casa de banho” – a reed enclosure that doubles as a toilet and a place to wash, brushed our teeth with some bottled water that we had in the car, and then took our places in the car for the night. The two front seats of our pick-up recline so we made ourselves as comfortable as we could, and Mama Uate stretched out on the back seat. We had our pillows with us, and some blankets, but it was not cold at all. If anything, it was quite warm from our heavy breathing with the windows closed. I did try to open the windows some during the night, but the mosquitoes were waiting to come in, so I closed them back up again. We were asleep in no time, but the time did seem to pass rather slowly, at least for me.

Wednesday, July 15th - Surprisingly, the time passed quicker than I realized. It seemed like very little time had passed when the sky was getting light in the east. I looked at my watch and it was about 5:45am. Soon the light turned to orange and yellow and with that there was movement in the yard as ladies began to built a fire and heat water. We finally rolled out of the car, a bit bleary eyed and wrinkled from sleeping in our clothes. The inside of the windows was all fogged up and we used some paper towels to wipe them off. We greeted the folks as more and more began to appear from their places of rest. After a short while, the water was hot and we were served some tea and bread for breakfast. Some thought we would be staying until mid-morning but we assured them that we had a service scheduled for about 10:30am a Inhaminga, about half way between Caia and Beira. So after the bread and tea, we gathered together in a circle in the church yard and had a word of prayer together and made arrangements to get on our way.

Two of our former students, Joãozinho Domingos, who pastors in Beira, and Enoque Sombrero, pastoring in Lamego west of Beira, were visiting in Caia to meet with pastors. They asked if they could get a ride with us to Beira and so we made room and they climbed in the back with Mama Uate. It was a bit before 7am that we pulled out of the churchyard there in Caia and made our way out to the main highway. Just near the intersection there was a brand new petrol station, opened 24 hours a day, and we took advantage of the availability to fill the tank up before heading on to Inhaminga. We sure could have used that filling station back in 2006 when we made our marathon trip from Maputo to Mocuba and back!

After filling up, we got on the highway headed south. We were looking for a road off to the left at about 20 kilometers out of Caia. According to the map, there should be a highway there. But 20km came and went, and 30km came and went, and there was still no highway. I checked with Joãozinho and Enoque and they said, “No, it is still farther on.” Obviously, the map was a liar! Finally, at about 45 kilometers, there was a signpost indicating the highway to Inhaminga – the famous, or maybe I should say, infamous, Dondo road! Until about five years ago, this was the only highway north to the ferry crossing over the Zambezi River at Caia, and half of the year, it was impassible due to water and mud and half-buried trucks. I must say, after all I had heard about this road, I was pleasantly surprised by its condition. It was a dirt road, but it was wide and recently graded and fairly smooth as dirt roads go. We were able to make good time and before we knew it, we were approaching the town of Inhaminga where we were to meet our former students, António and Afélia Mucano. They had also worked for us while they were students, and we had not seen them since they graduated in 2005.

The church is located on the south side of town and so we had to pass through the whole town before coming to the church. It seemed that the whole town was in a grove of trees – soaring high hardwoods and eucalyptus trees lined the streets. In the colonial era, this was a major center between Beira and the Zambezi River, and it was a major junction on the rail line between Beira and Tete to the north, and the branch line to Marromeu, a major sugar producing area near the mouth of the Zambezi River. During the civil war lasting from 1976 to 1992, Inhaminga saw some of the fiercest fighting of the war and the reminders of those days were still visible as we passed through the town. A number of buildings had no roof and there were overturned railway cars along parts of the railway line. There were also some signs of progress. The railway line has been refurbished and is now opened to Marromeu and they are working on the line as far as Tete. A number of buildings had been painted and there was a healthy hustle and bustle about the town.

As we neared the south edge of the town, there was the church. It was a lovely cement block building, nicely painted, neatly trimmed hedges around the property and flowering trees planted around the church and the yard. It was immaculately clean – just what we would have expected from the Mucanos. We pulled into the churchyard and parked under a tree. Before we could get out and walk around, here came Pastor Mucano running from his house at the back of the property! After a hearty welcome, he showed us around the church and the property and then took us back to the house he had built for their parsonage. It was of typical construction for the area with fired mud-bricks and thatched roof, but neat, tidy, and very functional. He also showed us the fruit trees he had planted and the garden he had under cultivation. He had a “green thumb” which he had used when a student and he had not lost his talent.

He had announced to his congregation that we would be coming and they planned for a special service for that morning. They had estimated that we would be there at 11am, but because of the night in the car in Caia, we actually arrived earlier at 10am. By 10:30am, about half of their congregation was already there and so we began the service. As the service progressed, more and more people arrived and by 11am, there were about 50 or so present. We had a lovely service with the folks there and I time of prayer around the altar at the close, and then we began to make moves to head on down the road. We were presented with several pumpkins from the Mucano’s garden and some other produce as well. We got it loaded into the back of the truck and after a final farewell, set off on the way. As we pulled back onto the highway, I thought to myself, “Well, this road isn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be.”

For about the next 30 kilometers, the road was pretty good and we were able to make good time. The road paralleled the railway line and we zigged and zagged back and forth over the rails as the road got deeper and deeper into the tropical forest that covers central Sofala Province. The road got progressively worse and narrower as we proceeded and we had to reduce our speed to about 30 kilometers per hour, never going more than 40 kph. We passed through the small village of Muanza where a turn trail led west off to the Gorongosa National Park. We kept moving south, now and then catching sight of the railway line. This road was famous as the haunt of lions back about ten years ago. Our missionary colleagues, Dave and Marquita Mosher had seen a pride of lions along this road on one trip, just about 100 yards from where they had set up their table and chairs for a picnic lunch. All we saw were several troops of baboons.

About 40 kilometers out of Dondo, the road emerged from the forests and the landscape was more like the African bush we knew from the south of Mozambique. The population seemed to get denser too as we saw more and more homesteads along the way. The condition of the road also got progressively worse. There were large dips and water holes and muddy patches that we had to navigate around. Deep ruts marked the places where trucks and made their way through muddy patches before the rains stopped and the sun had baked the road with the ruts still in place. We crossed narrow little bridges at the foot of steep hills, with a sharp curve thrown in for good measure to make the crossing that much more difficult. We could see how this road could provoke nightmares, and get its bad reputation.

As we made our way along, we passed many people coming and going, some on foot but many on bicycles. If we passed one, we passed a hundred bicycles on the last 20 kilometers of the road. The bicycles were not just carrying their drivers, but some carried families as well. Most, however, were loaded down with cargo – sacks of corn, beans, or peanuts. Some carried building materials. Some carried wood. Others were loaded with three of four large bags of charcoal being taken to Dondo to be sold for fuel for cooking in the city. Finally, the highway got smooth, and wide, and obviously a grader had been down this road recently. We were able to increase our speed – 100 kilometers per hour! And then all to soon, or not soon enough, we found ourselves on the main tarred highway – the Beira Corredor.

We dropped Enoque off so he could get a ride heading west toward his village, and we continued toward Beira, another 35 kilometers further on to the east. As we approached the city, Joãozinho directed us off onto an alternative route that would take us past the church he is pastoring. They were just about finished with a new church building and we wanted to see the church and get a feel for where he is serving. It was a beautiful cement blocking building with corrugated steel sheets for a roof. We stretched our legs looking around the building and the property, and then continued on to the city center and then out along the beach to the home of missionary colleagues, Carlos and Silvia Bauzá.

We arrived at the Bauza’s house around 4pm, anxious to get a shower and change clothes! Once we were clean again, we enjoyed having fellowship and just relaxing a bit. Silvia prepared us a lovely dinner and we heard from Carlos all the news, and saw lots of pictures, from the General Assembly. We could have talked and talked until after midnight, but we needed to continue our journey in the morning and we wanted to get an early start. With that in mind, we finally headed down the hallway a bit past 10pm and headed to bed.

It was great to stretch out for a night’s rest, but before we could go to sleep, we had to make a choice: battle the buzzing of mosquitoes, or put up with the slight roar and wind of an electric fan. We opted for the fan. In spite of being tired, we didn’t sleep all that well, and before we knew it, it was time to get up and get ready to leave on the last leg of our journey.

Thursday, July 16th – The alarm went off at 4am. By 4:30am we had the car packed and ready to go. Silvia had breakfast on the table for us so we could eat something before we headed on our way. A bit past 5am, we bade our farewells, climbed into the pick-up and headed out into some of the densest fog I have ever seen. We could see maybe 30 yards in front of us and almost nothing out to the side. In addition, there was a light mist falling so we had to have the windscreen wipers going most of the time as well. We could just barely make out landmarks along the way as we headed to the main highway out of town. We knew we were passing the airport, but we could not see anything of it. When vehicles came at us from the other direction, we almost had to stop dead in the road because we could not see a thing ahead of us. Finally, we made it to the main highway.

The main highway was smoother and there was more traffic, but the fog was not any better. All the way to Dondo we were in thick fog, but after Dondo it got more patchy, though there was still mist in the air. After we crossed the Pungoe River conditions improved, but it was still foggy. In Lamego we stopped briefly to see Enoque Sombrero and his family. They had walked out to the main highway to greet us as we passed by. Enoque had been single when he was a student at the seminary and we had never met his wife or seen his children. We had about five minutes to visit with them along the way, had a word of prayer, and continued on our way. About fifteen minutes later, we came to the village of Nhamatanda. At the petrol station, we pulled off to pick up Orlando Siapange, our student who we had brought with us from Maputo at the beginning of our trip. Now he would be going back with us as well. We took advantage of this stop to “inspect the facilities” before continuing on the journey. We knew that this would be the last opportunity to “inspect the facilities” for some time to come! About 10 kilometers on down the road, we pulled off again, this time to meet Joãozinho and his wife. She had been visiting relatives while her husband was away and he had got a bus out to be with her after accompanying us to Beira the day before. It was nice to be able to meet her, also for the first time. Another 5 kilometers beyond that stop, we came to the crossroads of Mozambique – Inchope! Here we turned south and headed for Maputo. By now it was about 9:30am and we were an hour and a half behind schedule, thanks to the fog and the visits along the way. At least now we were out of the fog and could make better time.

From this point on we were on familiar highway that we had traveled before. The road was in good condition all the way to the Save River at the border between Sofala and Inhambane Provinces. Except for emergency pit stops along the way, our next stop would be the village of Muchungue where we would fill up with diesel fuel. The route was not overly populated and passed through forested areas. We were able to make good time and we were in Muchungue at around 11:30am. We got fuel - and pineapples! - before continuing south.

The next major objective was the bridge across the Save River – about 150 kilometers further south. We crossed the rive a bit before 1pm and kept moving. Here the road surface was a bit older and in less good condition with the occasional pothole to negotiate. We were still able to keep the speed to about 50 miles per hour, but had to slow down from time to time. We passed several other landmarks – the turn to Inhasorro, a village on the beach, and the turn to Vilankulos where we had spent the first night of our trip. After Vilankulos, the road surface improved for about another 100 kilometers, and then it got back again for another 70 kilometers until we reached Massinga.

In Massinga, we had planned to stop again and visit our pastor there, Helder Zimba, but when we phoned ahead we learned that he’d gone to Maputo to join his wife and her family. So there was no stop in Massinga. We just continued on the way. About an hour later we came to Maxixe where we filled up with fuel again and found some clean restrooms. The stop here was only about 15 minutes, and then we were on our way again. We wanted to reach Xai Xai, three hundred kilometers further south, before dark, but it did not look like we were going to make it. On the road again and the ladies decided it would be nice to get some coconuts and some tangerines; coconuts to take home and tangerines to eat along the way. We finally found a stall along the way selling both and made a quick stop. Then we were off again.

We passed through the small village of Inharrime. Here the road gets really narrow as it passes between shops and buildings that come right up to the edge of the road. The speed limit is only 20 kilometers per hour, and there are people everywhere. Fortunately, it’s only about a kilometer from one edge of town to the other, so we were through there in short order. About 5 kilometers out of town, the highway crosses a little bridge over a tidal lagoon that is marvelously beautiful. The blue of the water is tremendous, and it is surrounded by white sand dunes. About 35 kilometers on we came to Quissico. We sent a message ahead to the pastor and his wife, the Mutombenes, asking them to meet us along the highway. We had a bag of peanuts from her sister in Mocuba to drop off for them, but we did not have much time to stop. As we rounded the bend and started up the hill into Quissico, there on the left side of the highway they were, ready and waiting for us! We stopped for all of about 5 minutes. We unloaded their bag of peanuts (about 25 kilograms) and gave a brief report of our trip and visit with their relatives, and we were off. It was 4:30pm as we passed through Quissico. We would not make Xai Xai before dark!

A half an hour and about 60 kilometers west of Quissico, we watched the sun slip below the horizon. In another fifteen minutes it was dark, and the road surface deteriorated. This stretch, the last 100 kilometers into Xai Xai, was the last section of the highway between Maputo in the south and Pemba in the north, to be rebuilt. They were just getting started on it when we had made our way north several weeks earlier. Now they were a bit more advanced. At least the edges of the highway had been cleared of brush, and some of the worst potholes had been filled in. As we got closer to the town, however, it seemed that the potholes got deeper and more numerous. At 6:30pm as we passed through Xai Xai, we finally said good-bye to the potholes and started the homeward stretch for home.

The road from here on was like a carpet and once we were over the Limpopo River bridge, we could make 120 kilometers an hour (except for speed zones) all the way to Maputo. We ticked off the villages as we passed through – Chicumbane, Chipenhe, Chissano, Chimondzo, Incaia, Macie, Xinavane, 3 de Fevereiro, Palmeiras, Macie, Bovole, Mbulaze, Marracuene – now we were only 25 kilometers out of town! At 9:15pm we passed the police traffic control point on the outskirts of Maputo. Traffic was now typical city traffic, heavy and slow moving. We made it along the main road and finally to the turn off to the Uate’s house. We pulled up in front and unloaded all of Mama Uate’s the things that we easily accessible. We went inside where her family had a lovely dinner prepared for us. I am not sure we really wanted to eat that much at that time of night, but we did enjoy the chicken and rice, fried potatoes and meat curry. I think we were there only 30 or 40 minutes, and then it was only 5 kilometers more to get home. Finally, at 10:30pm, we passed through the gates of the Seminary and made our way up the drive to our gate. We were home! We had traveled 8000 kilometers (5000 miles), visited nearly 100 of our former students, seen places we had only thought we might see, and done some things we never thought we would do, and now we were home again. It was a marvelous trip. Thank the Lord.