Welcome to fear. Mozambique, the adjectives attached in the back of my brain for this place are more on the lines of a negative connotation. This particular instance was fear.
Megan, Amanda, and I pack our bags, it is seven am. Today we were going on a two day trip to visit the Farm and we are very late, It is noon, Pastor Peter was never on time, Nor is Africa ever on time. The Farm was a title given to a plot of land that the Laubscher's helped Mama Rita and Pastor Peter fund so they and their orphans could have a food in the most sustainable form. We packed sleeping bags and clothes with a few metacash. Which by this point in the trip, was not too much. We hopped onto a shoppa that would take us to our location. The shoppa was crammed as always and smelly. An hour or so later, we are finally at a stop.
At our stop we are addressed by a few men taking our bags. We then notice our bags being placed on bicycles with the hand motion of hop, we learned hand motions very quickly, because these men did not speak English nor Portuguese. "Hop on? What are you talking about" is the phrase the three of us girls are thinking. But yes, the men were serious we would travel on the bicylces. First, we go through a forest, then we go through a pond, and twenty minutes later, we are still going. Now we are in a corn field making all these crazy turns into this maze terrain. We are trapped.
The only thing running through my head is, we are going to die. These men don't speak English and we don't speak Sena. We don't know where we are going and no one knows where we are. My pay by the minute cell phone has no reception and I have no idea how to call anyone on it. Horror movie status. I think about crying but that won't help me stay on the bicycle. My driver loses his balance, we fall.
I ponder the situation we are in. I devise the escape plan. If something happens in the middle of the night this is what we should do. Put on our tennis shoes, put what dark clothes we have on, grab what's important and run. We don't know where we are and we don't have a map. But we will run toward the water. Except for there isn't one main river. Dang. But still follow a river all the way to the nearest road. Lay low and keep together. The lighter the load the quicker we can go.
Yes, these are truly thoughts running through my head. My driver slips again, we fall into a ditch. Amanda is gone. Where did she go.
Two hours later, we are at a hut and church combined, we are in the middle of a corn field. We are late. We wait, Amanda finally shows up, she is injured and bleeding. Amanda and I walk to another hut to where a pastor lives, our things are in their hut and I find my first aid kid. There is a dog watching me intensely and growling. I will die. Amanda and I will die.
We go back to the church and sit on a straw mat and wait some more, we fall asleep. We wake up and are fed Sheema and fish. We don't drink the water, we never do.
We wait some more, sundown is approaching. Reflection is inevitable.
Welcome to my world.
Welcome to the Farm,
Make a Joyful Noise All the Earth
Psalm 66: 1-4
Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!
Say to God, "How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power
that your enemies cringe before you.
All the earth bows down to you;
they sing praise to you,
they sing praise to your name."
Selah
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