Sorry for the Delay in Posting

As I sit here with a window open, I can hear the choir from a church across the street, practicing for their Sunday morning service (imagine the sounds of stereotypical African Church Choir and you have what I am enjoying). I decided that I needed to post a quick explanation of the delay in my posting. At the end of every month Pieter, Rika, and their three children take a trip to South Africa for supplies, and a bit of a getaway. When Pieter leaves, he takes his computer with him, and without his computer we have no Internet at the house. I have been continuing to write while he was gone about everything that has happened in the last couple of days and I posted it today. Make sure to read back a couple of posts to make sure you haven't missed any of the story. I am also trying to upload some more pictures to my flickr account so check that out also.

Molly and I are leaving for South Africa tomorrow morning via the bus. It is sure to be an adventure and probably will have a story to follow. We have to leave Mozambique because you can't be in the country for more than 30 days at a time on our passport without renewing our visas.

This gives us a good excuse to take a short trip. We will be in Nelspruit, South Africa from July 1st - 4th. We have rented a VW Cabrio and will be hanging out, checking out Krueger National Park, and a place called God's Window. I'm sure that we will find other things that we want to do also. It should be a good break from all the work at the baby house. I will take lots of pictures to share. We are both excited for the short break in the action. I don't know if I will have internet access while I am gone, but check back regularly for new updates. I miss everyone at home and hope all is going well.

Disappointment

After the crazy trip to Aninha’s village with the social worker from the Social Welfare Office, I had high hopes entering their office the following day. I sat down in front of the desk that I had was becoming very familiar with because of our many visits to this same office at Social Welfare. We sat and waited patiently for Adolpho to come in and continue to help us with the process that we had started of getting a little girl’s passport. As we waited the other employees in the office told us about a little girl that had been abandon and needed a place. They wanted me to say that we would take her in, but I knew that this was ultimately Pieter and Rika’s decision, on whether or not we had the room for another child.

After much time had passed, he finally sauntered into the office and takes a seat in front of us. I’m sure that he could tell that we were anxious to receive whatever it was that he had to give us in order to be on our way to getting the girl’s passport.

After all, he had made this promise that we needed a birth certificate. When we got the birth certificate he said it was not enough, that we now needed documented sources stating Aninha’s condition when she was taken from the streets. He also said we needed permission from her father who had already claimed to abandon her (making her property of the social welfare office who ultimately had to give permission). It all just didn’t make a lot of since, but we were relentless in our pursuit and travel to her village to meet with the officials and other people who had taken care of her. The social worker heard first hand from these people of how Aninha was before she had come to the baby house. He also heard first hand from the father that he gave his permission for any medical treatment that his little girl, who he no longer had any ties to, needed to receive in Mozambique of South Africa. We had jumped through every hoop and now were ready to receive the document saying that she had the Social Welfare Office’s permission to receive a passport and the ability to travel to an Ear Specialist in South Africa.

Sitting across the desk fro Adolpho, it was obvious that he was not yet done with his attempt to work bribe money out of us. He told us we had to take her to a doctor in Mozambique to look at her ears. If the doctor gave permission to travel to South Africa, then she would be able to go. I pulled her many medical records from her file, which I had in my bag, and showed him the repeated visits to the doctor with no results of her ears improving. I asked him if he needed anymore proof that the doctor was unable to fix her ears. He told me that I had to have an official letter signed from her doctor.

I was very frustrated with this man, who claimed to do his job in order to help children. It would be very easy for him to sit and write this short paragraph of a letter, sign his name to it, and send us on our way to get Aninha’s passport. He however sat across the desk from me with a smug look on his face, waiting for my response.

I looked at Luis and then at Adolpho and said, “We sit here in your office and the others here in this office say that there is an emergency case and a little girl needs a place to live. You want us to continue to help, by taking in more and more children. We love to help in this way, but we have a little girl who already lives in our house, and she has an emergency of her own, and it is that she is going to be deaf if we don’t get her to the doctor in South Africa. When are you going to start helping us take care of the children that we already have in our house?”

Adolpho sat across the desk from me and hung his head. It was obvious that Luis’ translation of my message had been a heavy blow to this man. He sat speechless and realized that he had no response to my question. He finally raised his head and called his supervisor over to the desk. I believe that he explained what our situation was, and that he didn’t know what to do next.

I asked his supervisor if I could have a list of everything that needed to be done in order to get a passport for this little girl.

Without understanding a word that she said, it was obvious in her tone that she was upset with me and insulted. It was also clear that there was no list of what had to be done.

I asked her if she could write me a list of what needs to be done in order to accomplish this task, because it seems to me that there is no procedure of how to go about accomplishing this task.
Her reply was short and to the point, “no.”

I told her, that I was told all I needed was a birth certificate and returned with it in my hand, but it wasn’t enough. I told her we had traveled with Adolpho to meet the people in Aninha’s village because it was said that we only need her story and permission from her father, we had done that, but now that wasn’t enough. I told her I didn’t think that there was an end to all of the things that Adolpho was going to make us complete in order to get the Social Welfare Office’s permission. I told her I wanted to know if Adolpho knew what he was doing and if there was a rhyme and reason to everything that he was having us do, or was he just wasting our time.

Her reply was long and drawn out. I didn’t understand any of it and didn’t even ask Luis to translate. It was apparent that she was upset with me and Luis told me that she said that we were finish today and that she had asked us to leave. I stood to leave the office with nothing to show for our last three days of work. The only thing I carried with me was feelings of anger and disappointment.

Love @ the Market

Today was very eventful. We woke up early and made sure that Aninha was bathed, had eaten breakfast, and was dressed in some of her best clothes. Luis, Aninha, and I had a meeting with the social worker that tried to bribe me the day before. We met him in the city because we were traveling together to meet the chief of the area where Aninha was born.

After much winding and meandering back through narrow walkways, filled with trash, we had finally arrived at our destination. The chief immediately recognized Aninha, but Aninha also recognized him and seemed to be very afraid of him. She started to cry when he attempted to take her from my safe arms. I think she was afraid that we had come to drop her off. After sitting with the chief and having him explain Aninha’s story to the social worker, he had us follow him to his home.

When we entered his home, a lady that also immediately recognized Aninha greeted us. She told the social worker everything she knew about Aninha’s story. She explained how she had helped take care of her when her father had abandoned her.

Soon many more people had come into the chief’s house, all wanting to see the little girl that had returned to her village. Everyone was so happy to see how healthy and well taken care of she was now. All of the stories shared with the social worker, told of how they had found her with nothing but a pair of her father’s underwear on her body and wandering the streets. They had done their best to help her, but now they had a hard time believing that this could be the same little girl that was so malnourished just over a year ago.

It was neat for me to see these people and their reactions to the work that the baby house is doing in each of the little ones lives. These people knew the little girl at her worst and were now blown away at how good she was now doing. I’m glad that I was a part of maybe bring these few people a little bit of hope.

After we left the chief at his house with the many visitors, we went to the house where Aninha’s father was now living. He wasn’t home, but we talked to someone that also lived at the house who told us he was at work. We realized that the number her father had given to Luis and me, when we had tracked him down at his job, was not the correct number. We were now able to get the correct number from the lady that had told us he was at work.

The social worker also took the number and was going to try and meet the father later that day. The social worker told us to stop by the Social Welfare Office tomorrow and I think we will get what we need to apply for the Aninha’s passport. This makes me excited! Our day was however not over.

With Aninha in my arms, we walked a long distance to where we could catch a chappa to the market to pick up food for the two families that receive groceries from the baby house every week. I have started to build somewhat of a friendship with the 26-year-old lady that we buy all of the vegetables and other food from every week. Luis and I actually ran into her last week at a bus/chappa stop and she went out of her way to say hello and try to have a conversation with me. Keep in mind she speaks very little English, so our friendship is based on the soul fact that I spend a lot of money at her market store every Thursday.

As she started to gather all of the food for the two families, Luis is talking to her in Shangon(sp) [Shangon is the language of the locals here in South Mozambique]. I am waiting patiently and minding my own business, when in the middle of their conversation, she stops and smiles at me and says, “You – Love – Me?”

I immediately glare at Luis. He just starts laughing hysterically and says, “That is what you told me!”

I retorted with, “You asked me if I thought she was beautiful after we had seen her at the bus stop! I said yes, her face is pretty. That doesn’t mean that I love her or even that I like her!”

He just stood there laughing, while the girl continued to stand there with longing in her eyes as she put the carrots that I was purchasing into a bag. I demanded that he tell her what I really said, but he just shook his head and continued to laugh.

After all the groceries were bought, she followed us out of the market and helped us carry our many bags of food all the way to the bus/chappa stop. She stood there and waited with us, and she told Luis that she wanted to come with us to see the families that we buy the food for every week, and then she wanted to come and see all the babies at the baby house. This is obviously all happening because she thinks that I am interested in her and Luis is just laughing thinking that this whole situation is great. I told him that I didn’t mind if she came along with us. Luis just continued to laugh at me, and told her that we were in a hurry and had many more things to do today.

Using the little bit of English that she knows, she told me that she would see me tomorrow. I corrected her and said that I would see her next week. She smiled and waved down a chappa, we climb on, and were on our way to deliver the food to the families.

While at the Grandparent’s house, I measured the distance of pipe that we need so that we can get the water installed at their house. Hopefully, I can get that all worked out and hooked up in the next few weeks. It is just 2:00 in the afternoon here, but with a busy day like this, I am ready for a short nap while the babies take their afternoon nap at the house.

Why So Difficult?

After successfully getting a copy of the little girl’s birth certificate, we took it to be officially stamped/notarized at the identification office. I had a high hope that taking the birth certificate back to the Department of Social Services was going to have us on our way to attaining a passport for the little girl. After all, they had told us on our last visit, that getting this document would be what we needed to get the passport, which would get her to South Africa to see an ear specialist.

How silly was I to think that it would be that easy? T.I.A. Nothing is easy! This is my number one frustration with how things operate in Mozambique. There seems to be no consistency in how things are done. You’re told the way to do something one day and the next day the procedure seems to have changed. Add a language barrier into the mix and the outcome is pure frustration.

This morning, I sat across the desk from a man who “naturally” expected me to pay him a bribe in order for him to assist us, by doing his job, in which he is paid by the government to do. It is so frustrating to me, that there is no accountability for these government offices. No one is making sure that the work is being done lawfully. After much argument and me getting a tad bit hotheaded with the man, I now have an appointment set with him for tomorrow morning at 9:00. He is going to travel with Luis and me to visit the Chief of Child Welfare in the district of the city that Aninha (the little girl) lived in before coming to the baby house. He says that talking to this chief will get all matters of custody cleared up. He needs proof that the father of the little girl has abandoned her. The father’s written statement doesn’t seem to be enough proof, a birth certificate without a father’s name listed doesn’t seems to be enough proof, and a phone call to the Chief would just be too easy. So we are stopping at his office to pick him up, and then traveling to meet with this Chief in person tomorrow.

We are planning on taking Aninha with us on this trip, so that the chief and people that knew her before she came to the baby house can see how well she is doing. I’m hoping that this will assist in getting her a passport. Child Trafficking. I think that this may be the cause of some of the government’s resistance to assisting us in acquiring a passport. I continue to be more aware of the fact that there are many people in Mozambique that are in the business of selling children. Aninha’s health speaks loudly to the fact that we are looking out for her best interest, and not trafficking children across the border. I have a hard time believing that this trip to visit the chief will make any difference in our progress in this endeavor, but I will continue to jump through the hoops in hopes that I will eventually reach the end of the obstacle course with her passport in hand.

In other news, we took a quick trip into the city this afternoon to eat lunch. After lunch we walked to the Central Hospital in the Maputo. The campus is large, and seems to have had many improvements in the last few years. My understanding is Bill Clinton had a hand in paying for the upgrades to the hospital. Much of it was still very run down, but it seemed to me that there was lots of construction that was still going on around the hospital campus.

In other presidential news, Laura Bush was in Maputo, Mozambique today. We saw her motorcade pass by on our way back to the baby house. Sirens were blaring, and 6-7 secret service vehicles surrounded her car. The entire procession was followed by a S.W.A.T. vehicle, which I’m sure, was filled with a whole team of military personnel. With access to very little United States news I’m unaware of why she came to visit, but I’m interested in finding out. If anyone is aware of the first lady’s reasons for visiting please send me an em

Starting a New Habit

In order for this story to have it’s full potential of hilarity, I need to first share a bit about one of the boys in the house. Marcelino has been at the house the longest of all the babies, and he is now three years old. He and Luis seem to battle for the alpha male leadership position of the babies. Marcelino is very small for his age, but makes up for it in his spunkiness.

As I was putting pajamas on him tonight, he was lying on his back and watching Luis try to sneak out of his playpen and run into the kitchen. Marcelino was yelling from on his back at Luis to stay in bed, while pointing and shaking his finger to get Luis in trouble. After Luis had successfully landed on his pajama footed feet and scampered out the door, Marcelino clapped wildly for Luis, as if to say “way to go” on the escape.

He is quite the character and is always doing something to make people laugh. Another thing that he does that is entertaining, happens when new toys arrive at the house. He is a playpen hoarder. By that I mean he takes all the new toys that he really likes and throws them in his playpen, so that no one else is able to play with them. Sometimes he is so extreme in his hoarding that he has a hard time finding a place to lay down to sleep at night.


A few days ago, the girls of the house received little sets of glamour dress up accessories. They were little darlings with their beaded necklaces, sunglasses, high heals, and lip gloss. Their nails were done, and they carried purses that contained little stuffed puppies sticking their heads out of the top. The girls were all dolled up and strutting around the house as if the world was their runway. It was very cute and everyone around the house shared in the admiration of the little diva wannabes.

Meanwhile, the boys played with their new Superman toys and trucks. Marcelino was not satisfied with his newly acquired toy and was throwing a temper tantrum. It was soon apparent that he was suffering from a bit of jealousy. He quickly fixed his situation by grabbing one of the girl’s new pink sunglasses. He put them on and it was obvious that his mood changed because of his pretty pink shades.

Later that day, I walked in from a quick trip to the market and was greeted by Marcelino with his sunglasses and also a pretty pair of glittery pink plastic high heals. He evidently had been practicing his walk while I was gone or was a natural in them, because he had no trouble running around the backyard effortlessly in his new shoes.

That night, I noticed that the pink sunglasses were next to his pillow as I tucked him in bed and told him I loved him. He quickly grabbed the sunglasses and put them on his face upside down smiled and waited for my to reaction. I just stood there and smiled in admiration.

Tonight, after I had put him to bed, I heard a playpen being scooted across the floor by one of the little boys. A few minutes later I heard Rika walk into the boy’s room. She then escorted Marcelino in where I was sitting and this is what I saw:


He had scooted his playpen across the room to where all the baby’s clothes are stored in an organizer. He had found the bin that had all of the girl’s shoes in it, and emptied all of its contents into his bed. He had stripped down to just his diaper, found and put on one of the girl’s socks, and was trying on all the girl’s shoes. It appeared that he has taken a liking to lady’s clothing. It may be a new habit that Papa Pieter will have to deal with in the future.

When the pink boot was taken off of his little foot, and he was forced to put on his pajamas, he was very upset. He lay there in his bed grasping his pink sunglasses while crying himself to sleep.

The kids are adorable and little stories like this fill our days and make us all laugh often. I am definitely going to miss all of the kids when I leave to return to the States. It is hard work and very tiring, but it is so rewarding to see the impact that your love can make in each of their lives. The smile and squeeze that they each give, as you put them in bed at night is more than enough to make it seem like the obvious choice to do it all over again the next day.

Hippo Sighting Update

I have not forgotten about my quest for a hippo, but there is need for an update. I was informed that most of the wildlife in Mozambique was killed off in the civil war. People killed most animals for food because there was such a shortage while the fighting was going on. I was told; that there was a long time that you seldom even saw birds here. No dogs, no cats, but some chickens and a few goats.

My passport's visa for Mozambique has to be renewed every 30 days. This means that we have to leave the country and return to gain a new visa. Molly and I have arranged a trip to Nelspruit, South Africa next week. Nelspruit is the location of Kruger National Park. The park has been ranked as one of the top places to safari in the entire World. It should be a good break, which gives us a chance to relax and recuperate.

Grandparent’s Kitchen

Yesterday, we were able to finish one of the major projects of the summer! The family has been cooking in the dirt with nowhere to keep their dishes, so that they wouldn’t get dirty. It was neat to be able to show up yesterday with the tin for the roof, a coal stove, and their groceries for the week. The look on Jacobi’s face was priceless! He was very happy, with a smile on his face and clapping hands, he hobbled over to grasp my hand and say, “Obrigato, Obrigato, Obrigato.” His thankfulness showed how much this project that we had completed was going to change the families life.
Jacobi and Mary (the grandparents) are such a neat couple, and are doing so much for the five children that they are taking care of in their home. My hope is that it will make life a little easier for this 70-year-old couple. The next project that I hope to get done before I leave is digging, and laying pipe, and setting up running water to their home.

click picture to see larger size

How to Get a Passport?

How do you go about getting a passport in Mozambique for a little girl who has been abandon? If anyone has the answer to this question, please let me know. I have been working on figuring this problem out for the last few weeks.

Today, this question took me to the Social Welfare Office of Matola, Mozambique. After a long walk, I was able to talk to the caseworker through my fearless interpreter Luis. The S.W. Office informed us that we first needed to have a birth certificate. We took the long walk home, grabbed Aninha’s paper work, and we were on our way to figure out how to get a birth certificate for an abandon child in Mozambique (Nothing is simple in Africa).

We rode the chappa to the Department of Identification and Certification in Matola. As I walked up to the building, I noticed that there was a really large group/line in front of the building. As we approached, I was estimating in my head that it was going to take approximately all day to stand in this line. As I walked up to take my spot in line, I caught the chief’s eye, and she waved me into her office along with Luis, and who was I to argue with a Government Official. Luis swears that I am his front of the line pass because of my complexion.

After sitting down across the desk from the chief of the office, I explained though Luis, that I was working on getting a passport for a little girl so that she could visit a doctor in South Africa. Automatically she asked Luis if I was trafficking children, which is big business in Africa. He responded by sharing that I was a missionary and helping run an orphanage and we showed her our government documents. I then showed the chief Aninha’s yellow card, which has all of her birth information from recorded by a doctor on it. She then asked to see other paperwork, which showed that she was abandon by her parents. This is where the problem started!

The two documents had conflicting information on them. The documents had two different fathers listed on each of them. After much discussion, I finally convinced her that it didn’t matter if there was a father’s name listed because neither of the men were involved in her life.

The next problem was that one of the documents listed Aninha’s birth year being 2000, which would make her seven years old. The other document listed her correct birth year of 2003, which would make her about 4. The chief made this very difficult; we talked and argued for a long time. I didn’t have the little girl with me to show that she was only three, so I told her that she was very small using my hand to show her approximate height. The chief’s response, which I found hysterical, “Maybe she is just really short!”

I sat there dumbfounded at why this was such a complicated process. I continued in the argument with this African Government Official, who should be respected and admired, by saying, “She still makes Ashe-she in her pants!” This translates into, “She still poops her pants.” I only knew the word “Ashe-she” from having to take some of the kids to the bathroom in the house, but it seemed to get my point across.
The chief gave me a big smile and then a hearty laugh. I instantly knew that I had won her over with my language skills and charm. She sent us over to another desk, where one of her employees quickly filled out all of the paperwork for Aninha’s birth certificate. As this all happened, the chief continued to sit and laugh to herself and shake her head at me, saying “Ashe-she.”

Soccer Games in 3rd World Countries

The road was covered with big potholes full of muddy water that our chappa splashed and crashed through, as we took back roads to avoid the foot-traffic that dominated the roads to the soccer game. As we zigzagged our way through the villages, I finally saw the lightless light towers of the stadium (When they filmed the movie Ali at the stadium the production studio told the government that they needed to put in stadium lighting. The government installed the light towers, but pocketed the rest of the money and never installed the lights). The actual stadium is very old and sets out in the middle of a large field of tall grass, red sandy dirt, and piles of trash that would impress any garbage man in the United States.

The chappa driver pulled up and let us out as close as he could get which was a few blocks away from the entrance gate. As we climbed out, energy and excitement were in the air. I walked ahead and tried to take in the sight of people coming from all directions on foot as far as my eyes could see. People of all ages with Mozambique flags draped over their shoulders, blowing horn-like noisemakers, and some with their faces had been painted. We all climbed and weaved through the weeds and piles of trash to the entrance gates.

As we got closer to the entrance, the energy in the air grew more intense. Guards and police with machine guns stopped us, as they checked bags and tried to stop people from bringing in boxed wine and weapons. It was obvious that many were paying the guards, so that they could bring in cases of boxed wine. We continued through the actual entrance, it was then that I noticed the razor edged barbwire on the top of the stadium accompanied by armed soldiers posted all along the upper walls. Other men were also standing atop the wall, shouting at people below in attempts to purchase the boxes of wine (pictures a small cardboard milk carton, the type that was sold at lunch in grade school, but a little bit bigger and full of cheap wine. This potent beverage priced at just 25 cents a box). The armed guards with their vicious attack dogs would catch someone trying to make a transaction up over the wall, the dog would bark ferociously and the guard would come over stop the sale. More boxes of wine were being passed over the wall, than were being stopped. I already was sensing that this was going to be a chaotic experience, but also was definitely up for the adventure.

Over two hours early, our group of 17 people filed in through the gate, and was greeted by the sight of easily 40,000 Africans attempting to find seats. In attempts to help the reader better understand what this chaos looked like, imagine a stadium that only seats 30,000 with 40,000 fans present, no assigned seats causing everyone to push and shove for a place to sit, and everyone is staring at you because you are the only group of white people in the entire stadium.

We were quickly pushed in to a stairway that leads down towards the field. No more than five minutes had passed when I heard Ashley, just ahead of me; shout that someone had taken her phone and wallet from her pocket. I felt a man grab for my camera in my pocket, but quickly grab his hand and stopped him as I tried to push my way up through the crowd to get to Ashley to help her. By the time I was able to reach her, the pickpocket was long gone. I rounded up the 11 friends from Oklahoma and got them to a safe spot out of the way while Ashley tried to spot the man who had taken her things. We were unable to spot him, and the police were no help.

After trying to come up with plan of what to do about Ashley’s missing things, and what to do about seats, we finally decided to walk around to the far side of the stadium where it appeared that there might be open seats. As we snaked our way through the mob of people it was obvious that most of the crowd had partaken in a few too many boxes of this cheap wine. There were shouts of joy as people realized that we were at the game to cheer for their Mozambican soccer club. Everyone wanted high-fives from the Americans, and game score predictions, it was quite overwhelming and was obvious that many of the girls in our group already didn’t feel comfortable with our situation.

As we neared the other side of the stadium we decided that we needed to work our way down into the stands and find seats. All of the sections of the stadium looked full, but we needed to get into the stands or we weren’t going to be able to see any of the game. As we started walking into the stairway, people started cramming in behind us and pushing. There were no seats available anywhere, and the locals sitting around us told everyone to just sit on the steps where we were standing. This may sound like a wonderful idea when written down on paper, but when the people in front of me sat down, everyone behind me started to push forward, trying to get down into the stands for a place to sit. A couple of guys from the Oklahoma team and I stood there trying to hold back hundreds of crazy drunk African soccer fans. If we lost our footing all of the girls from our group, and the other fans sitting on the steps in front of us were going to be trampled and smashed. I remember thinking, “I have heard of people dying in this manner at sporting events and concerts.”

We finally got to sit down, after I hit a gigantic African man in the stomach, who had stood on my flip-flop covered foot, while trying to push me down the steps. When I hit him, he was so drunk that he just laughed at me. We were sitting on top of each other, and the whole situation continued to escalate around us. Fights continued to break out around us over boxes of alcohol and places to sit. One of the girls from Oklahoma, was just picked up and passed above the crowd against her will, while Ashley yelled at other men who couldn’t keep their hands off the girls that came with us to the game. It was possibly the most unorganized chaotic situation I have ever witnessed, and the soccer game hadn’t even started yet.

After the game started, the commotion settled down a bit. We sat squished together with a few of us sitting on the laps of others, and enjoyed the first half of the soccer game. Mozambique seemed to be on the attack for the majority of the half, but never seemed to have much of a strategy of how they were going to score. Senegal’s goalkeeper seemed to be much more talented and had many great saves and stops on the ball. The teams retired for the half, with the score tied at zero.

As soon as the game clock stopped for the half, people were up and trying to climb over the people around them in leaps and bounds to get to the top of the stands. No matter where you are from, if you get a foot in the face, stepped on by someone else, or a box of wine spilt on you, it is going to make you quite upset. This happened to many of the people sitting around us, and it quickly turned into a riot-like atmosphere. I could do nothing but laugh at the situation, and yell to Ashley, “T.I.A.” (This is Africa)! She just laughed at me and repeated, “T.I.A., Justin!”

As the pushing and shoving continued, I suddenly had a sleeping baby in my arms, that a mother handed to me in efforts to try and protect her child. I took the baby and rocked it as mass chaos ensued all around me. It was quickly evident that all of the girls from Oklahoma were ready to leave the game as many of them were crying. I sat there with a baby in my hands, not exactly sure where the mother had been pushed. After the crowd created a path for people to exit to the top of the stadium where many were purchasing more boxed wine, the mother luckily returned for her baby. I quickly exited with my group of friends and attempted to protect and shield the girls from men’s hand who were trying to grab the girls as we passed. As they cried and we pushed through the crowd, we finally found an exit gate. The second half hadn’t even started, but we had seen enough action for the day and decided to head back to the baby house.

After we left, I heard that the police and military closed all the gates and searched all the fans as the exited the stadium. Three officers were beaten up and their machineguns stolen. The guards were attempting to find the missing weapons. The crowd was the largest that national team had ever seen at it’s games. Mozambique and Senegal ended the game in a tie. It was a cultural experience, which I am glad to have had now that we are all home safe. We returned home safe, with only a few bruises, one missing shoe, and a little bit of innocence lost.

Adventure for Soccer Jerseys

Yesterday, Ashley and I went into the city to try and track down Mozambique soccer jerseys for some of the Oklahoma team. It was an adventure to say the least. After chasing down the chappa that we needed to ride into the city, we were crammed into the back with 25 of our “closest” Mozambican friends. We both were standing straddling the legs of the people sitting in the front row of the chappa. After about 5 miles distance, someone finally got out at a stop and gave Ashley a chance to sit down and me to find a positions to stand that was more conducive to comfort.

When we arrived at the city’s center market the local children bombarded us, so ready and willing to offer their assistance. Our white skin screams easy target for a quick metical in their pocket. A sixteen year old boy, named Alex, helped us weave through the booths offering live chickens, fresh fruits and vegetables, jewelry, tribal drums, clothes, hair extensions, and just about everything else that can be expected of a city market in Africa. After winding our way through the narrow paths of broken concrete that were littered with trash, we finally were able to get Alex to understand that we were looking for a sporting goods store that someone had told us was located near the market.

As we crossed the street of busy chaotic traffic, we saw the sporting goods store. It was surrounded by people pounding on the glass of the front of the store. People were literally trying to break down the front door to get into the store to buy their gear for the soccer game. The situation was ridiculous! Ashley handed Alex a few U.S. dollars for his assistance in helping us find the store, and we both looked at each other as if to see if the other was up for the challenge of fighting through the crowd. Without word, we both smiled at each other and proceeded to push our way to the front of the crowd. As we got near the door we realized that the store had an armed guard on the other side of the door, only letting a few people in at a time. When the door would open to let people out of the store, the crowd would smash forward trying to get through the little crack that the door was opened. We were at the front window getting pressed against the glass every time a few lucky people squeezed through the door. The owner noticed the two of us mixed in with the rest of the locals, and eventually told the guard to let the two white people into his store.

After entering we purchased three authentic Mozambican soccer jerseys for a few of the boys on the work team from Oklahoma. As we prepared to exit through the crowd, the thought went through my head of it would be very easy for the people outside of the door to steal the newly purchased jerseys from our hands. As we pushed through the crowd to get to the street, our helpful “friend” Alex again greeted us. He followed us down the street for many blocks, hoping that he could offer us more assistance in return for our money.

I am finding that one of my favorite things to do while here is to wander the streets and experience the culture of Africa. The street vendors, with their dvds, paintings, wood carvings, belts, phone cards, and even self-made coat racks, are relentless in their pursuit. Looking into the faces of the street children and witnessing them return a smile. I have had a wonderful experience in Mozambique thus far into my trip. I am thankful that I am able to have the opportunity to be here and witness what life is like outside America.




HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, POPS!!!
I LOVE YOU!

Mozambican Headhunter

I have also been working on trying to figure out how to get a passport for an orphan. One of the little girls at the house is having serious problems with her ears. She needs to go to an ear specialist in South Africa. The problem is she must have a passport in order to cross the border into South Africa. Her father is still living, but isn’t willing to help us in the process to get her passport.
Yesterday, I left the house with Luis and searched the city for her father. When we finally found him, he was at work. He works for a government warehouse that handles all imported rice, grains, and things of that nature. As we approached the gates to this warehouse, we were greeted by a government police officer with a machine gun, that I saw as a little bit of an overkill. We talked and asked 4-5 people at the warehouse and finally found someone who took us to meet the girl’s dad.
Her father didn’t seem to want to help us with the process. I finally convinced him to give us the information that we needed, by telling him that his little girl is going to end up deaf, if we don’t get her to a doctor in South Africa. He gave us the information that we needed, but he still needs to get a new government identification card. This card can take almost a year to receive from the government office. The process can be hurried along if bribed are paid to the government. Aninha needs to see a doctor soon, please pray that we can figure out a way to get her passport quickly, so that she can get medical assistance for her ears.

Newborn Baby

Imagine that you are walking down a dusty red-sand road. The smell of campfire smoke is in the air from homes that are cooking, the sun is high in the sky, and you are the minority of in the population. People are standing in front of their grass huts, holding their children. Some people are working in their gardens, watering vegetables. They hope to sell these vegetables at the market to support their families. All around seem to temporarily stop and watch as you walk down the road in front of their homes. The low chatter of a whispered foreign language murmurs in your ear. It seems that they may be talking about you, as they point and talk to the others around them.
As you walk, children smile and wave as you pass by where they are playing with old tires and kites made from potato sacks. A parade starts to form behind you including the neighborhood children of all ages as you continue on toward your destination.
This was my day yesterday. I was on my way to check in with the Mary and Jacobi (The grandparents that we are trying to help). I was on my way to see if they were able to get some of the paperwork completed, that is need to get water to their property.

As I neared their house a boy that was maybe seven or eight years old saw me from half a block away. I smiled and waved at him, and he instantly sprinted toward me. As he neared I could see that his skin was very dry and scaly. It was apparent that he hadn’t bathed for a really long time. He stopped in front of me and wanted me to hold him, but he was way to big for me to pick up and hold. I took his hand and he seemed to be content with walking along side of me as I continued to the grandparent’s house. He stayed with me and continued to stare at me the entire time that I was talking through my translator to Mary and Jocobi about their water situation.
After I was finished talking to Mary and Jacobi, I asked Mary if she knew where the boy lived. Mary said that he lived just down the street, and added that his mother was really sick. The boy led a few of my teammates and myself to his mother. Their house was back and off the road, and through field of tall grasses. As we weaved through the grasses, I wasn’t really sure that the boy understood that he was supposed to take us to see his mother. We all just blindly followed him, and finally arrived at a fence that was made out of tall reeds, sticks, and rusty pieces of metal. We slowly walked to the rusty metal door that was hanging by only half of it’s hinges. He shouted that he was home in the family’s language, and his father came out of their cinder block house to greet us.
We were quickly invited into sit with the family, and I realized that the mother was more than sick, she had just given birth to a new baby boy. Luckily, the three people that were with me from Oklahoma were all nurses. What a Godsend! After taking her pulse, other vitals, and assessing the situation, we decided that she was severely dehydrated and had lost a bunch of blood during the birth.
The baby had been born on Sunday, and two days later still hadn’t been able to drink any milk. His mother was not producing milk because of the lack of food and her severe dehydration. After talking with the family we decided that we would return with a re-hydrate water mixture, baby formula, and bread for the family.
After talking with Pieter and Rika at the baby house, we also were able to offer to help the family by taking care of the baby for the 2-3 weeks. We hope to be able assist them with baby formula and teaching the baby how to eat. It would give the baby’s mom a chance to recuperate and get her health back, and give the baby a chance to learn to eat and become stronger.
The father took all of the families food money, and spent it on baby formula, so they didn’t have food for the rest of the 8-9 people that were living in the house.
Today, the father came by the baby house, as we were headed out to deliver food to families and stop by to give more re-hydrate to the mother. He had a nice visit with Rika, and needed to go home to discuss their options with his family. I hope that we can help them with the baby. It is beautiful and needs to start eating soon or else it will pass away. The father said that he would let us know their decision later today.

Adorable

Shopping for Food

Yesterday, the team from Oklahoma arrived at the Maputo Airport. We arranged a chappa to come and help pick them and their luggage up and take them to the house. We had the driver arrange the night before, but when we called him on Sunday morning to confirm the ride, he answered and said that we had the wrong number. We had to scramble to find another vehicle to come and pick up the 11 people on the Oklahoma team. It all worked out in the end, but I am quickly learning that nothing is an easy task here in Africa.

A man at the airport came up to me as I was standing outside watching these government officials, with big guns, load things onto a plane that I was told belongs to Nelson Mandela (He lives in Maputo with his wife, who is from Mozambique). The guy wanted me to take him to America and when I told him no, he was very unhappy with me. Luis was with me, and the guy thought that I owned Luis. He couldn’t understand why I would be a friend to a black man. He told me that I could buy him and his services for $5.00. I laughed at his offer and told him that I wasn’t interested. The man left very discouraged, and I was sure that he was going to be out in the parking lot waiting to beat me up when we left the airport. Luis’ joke has been that I am his Molongoo, and that I own him. Luis has many jokes; most of them have to do with him being black and me being white. Most of them are relatively funny, but they seem to get him in trouble.

We took a few members of the Oklahoma team to the grocery store this morning to pick up food and supplies for their first week here. Walking into the store, you soon realize that many things that we take for granted in the states, are not easy to find here in Mozambique. Reading labels and trying to figure out what is in certain can and packages is entertaining to me. I found the hotdogs in a can especially funny.


Today is Molly’s birthday, and I surprised her with a few cards from friends back home, and an Oreo cheesecake. It is quiet the delicacy here, and can’t be found in any of the local stores. Pieter, Rika, the kids, Ashley, Molly and I are going to go into the city tonight, to take Molly out for a birthday dinner.

Larium Dreams -- Part II

It is a blessing that the larium dreams were not as crazy this week, but I will say that I am a little disappointed because they are entertaining to everyone. This post is somewhat delayed because of set backs with Internet connections and time changes and adjusting to my new home for the next two months. By the way, I am working on getting pictures loaded, and it is taking much longer because of slow connection speeds.

Without any more delay, here is the Larium induced dream that I had on Sunday night in Nelspruit, South Africa. I will keep it short and simple. For all of you that don't know I don't really care much for Oprah. She drives me crazy, and I don't enjoy watching her. I had a dream that I made a major sacrifice and married Oprah, so that I could have access to her money. Our relationship was all for the babies at the babyhouse in Mozambique. She sponsored the house and paid for all the diapers, food, and other supplies for the house. It was nice, but I had to put up with her philanthropic, publicity-seeking ways.

Our weekend has begun, and Pieter, Rika, and their three boys left for their monthly getaway to South Africa. They left early Thursday morning, and left Ashley, Molly, Gloria, Luis, and I her to take care of 10 children. The house has calmed down since the Texas team left yesterday, and the children are getting back into their routine. We had a group from Brazil stop by the house today, and they wanted see the babyhouse. It has been neat to meet people from all over the world while here in Mozambique.

Molongoo (Mo-Loon-Goo)

I just got back from my major project of the day, taking food to the two families that Pieter and Rika are helping. The food will last them for a week and their grocery list included the following:

1 kg potatoes
1 kg onions
1 kg tomatoes
½ kg carrots
2 kg beans
3 kg rice
2 packages of pasta
3 kg Top Score (flour)
4 packets of Benni (seasoning)
1 small bottle of cooking oil
1 kg sugar
1 kg peanuts
2 heads of garlic

The grandparent family has the two grandparents, and five children that will eat that food for the week. The other family is a woman and her two older children, and her husband has died of AIDS.

Luis and I rode the chappa to the market where we bought the groceries for the families. The chappas are an experience. Imagine 27 people in the back of a minivan, and that may give you an idea of what it is like. It was a blast! You get to know the people in an all-new way.

After picking up the above list X2, we split it up in to two bags, and climbed back on the chappa and rode to the village that these two families live. Carrying the heavy bags of groceries through the streets of the village, I heard a word repeated over and over. Molongoo. The little kids and some adults would stare and watch Luis and me as we passed by their houses and mud shacks. Luis finally told me that Molongoo meant white person, and that many of the people had never seen a white person in their village. It was so neat to see the village and meet the families. I love walking through the villages seeing the people, the homes, their shops and market areas. I walked past a school that was in session today, and many of the children were playing soccer outside, with a ball that looked like it was made from plastic wrap and tape.

The Texas team is leaving today. They are headed to another house in the area that works with teenage boys. It sounds like they are going to be helping teach life skills and work skills courses, and coordinate a Vacation Bible School. I have had a lot of fun getting to know the group, and I think that we will miss them once they are gone. They have been so much help.

A Brief Update

There is so much to share, but I’m not even sure where to begin with what I have been doing in the last few days. We arrived at the baby house and were all very tired from the traveling. A team from Houston, Texas was here when we arrived and they already had the babies routine somewhat figured out. They have been fun to have around and offer so much help.

Our days consist of bathing the eight babies in the morning, getting them dressed, feeding them breakfast, entertaining and playing for the morning, lunch, and then their nap time offers some relief. After the babies wake up, there is more playing, the babies eat dinner, the baby's nightly bath, and they are dressed for bed. Intermingled within all of this routine, are diaper changes for eight babies, and finding time to go to the market down the street for supplies and food. That doesn’t include fixing dinner for the eight of us that don’t eat with the babies. It has been difficult to find time to sit down and write a new blog post.

While I sit here typing, the boys work on school work with their mother, we are all enjoying some Jon Shirley tunes, and I am loving life. I am going to try and post many pictures on my flickr photo account. These pictures will hopefully give you a better idea of what I am experiencing here in Africa. I am having a hard time putting my thoughts into words, but I think that my pictures will show you what I have been able to enjoy and experience.

Pieter has put me in charge of the large work groups that are coming into help at the baby house. The next two work teams are from Okalahoma and South Africa. I have been working on trying to get some of their visit organized, assigning jobs on a rotating schedule, and setting up visits to the jails, hospitals, and maybe even a soccer game to see Mozambique vs. Senegal. The tickets to the game are pretty steep in price at $1.00. ☺

Many things are happening around the house, they have begun to establish a partnership with a grandma and grandpa that are raising five children. We take food over to them for the week, so we will be running to the market to pick up what they need tomorrow and riding by chappa (van-like taxi that crams 15-20 people inside) to deliver the food to them. We have a long list of things that we are going to try and accomplish at their house. A few of the project include getting running water to the house, starting a vegetable garden, and installing an outdoor kitchen. Pieter and Rika are also working on renting another property to start a 2nd baby house. The property is within walking distance of the current house, and we are probably going to start painting, and doing some work on the house next week with the team from Oklahoma.

We are also working on getting a passport for one of the baby girls, so that she can get in to South Africa to see a doctor for problems that she is having with her ears. Hopefully it will be an easy and quick process. I am finding out quickly that the government is slow in their work and many simple projects take much longer than it seems that it should take.

Check out the pictures on flickr.

I Made it to Mozambique

I don't have much time to write about my trip, but I will hopefully
get to sit down and write later tonight. I arrived without any
problems, and we are all very tired, but happy to be here. Many of
the staff at the house went on Holiday starting today, and we are
being dropped right into all of the action. More to come later.

jb

Why Am I Up? It's 2:45am.

Yes, I realize that I leave for the airport in five hours, and I am still not packed, and I need some sleep. I'm exhausted. Wish me luck as I continue to try and pack the rest of my gear, so that it is ready for me to drag out the door in the morning.

I need to post this quick thank you. I have had a great week that has included getting many things needed to be done in order to leave the country for two months, but my week has also included many quality hours spent with friends. I feel so loved and supported by those that are in my life. It is great to know that I have such a great support system. Thank you!

I will post an update as soon as I have an internet connection and have something worth sharing. Take care.

jb