Ordinary Day
So many of you have asked us what an ordinary day is like here in Mozambique. We feel that we have yet to experience ordinary, so I've decided to tell you about a few highlights of our days that may eventually become ordinary. Let's start with today!
In the morning we get up around 5:45 to begin waking the children for school. Each morning breakfast needs to be prepared (usually something has to be cooked since cereal is a bit of a luxury and saved for days we're running late) and lunches need to be made for school. Lucy's school does not provide any kind of "hot lunch" option so she packs a lunch each day. Kaleb has a lunch program so it depends on the meal offered that day. This morning we had oatmeal (called Jungle Oats here and imported from South Africa) with what they call brown sugar (it's actually more like sugar in the raw) and UHT milk (that is milk that's been heated to a very high temperature and then cooled and packaged so it can sit on the shelf for a VERY long time). Then I had to make Lucy's lunch and pack a snack and water bottle for each child since they start at 7:30 and don't eat until 12 the schools require that you send a snack each day. Maputo doesn't offer many prepackaged foods and the few they do (like dried fruit chutney chips) my children don't like so I usually send crackers with peanut butter or fruit for a snack. Unfortunately, today I forgot to pack Kaleb's and his teacher had to (kindly and willingly chose to) share her crackers with him. [Note the difference in this system. In the States every child would be required to bring a box of crackers or cookies to share with the class for snack time. All 32 or so boxes of snacks would last the whole year. No child would have a forgetful mother overlook his snack needs with such a system. I'm considering suggesting it at the next PTA meeting. However due to the wide ethnic backgrounds and the different snacks consumed this may not be a plausible idea in gradeschool]
At 6:55 Lucy's carpool showed up to pick her up (yes that is the pick up time, it is not a typo an it is the same each day) and at 7:15 Steve left to take Kaleb to school. During that time I showered and got dressed for the day. Steve returned and packed an overnight bag for his first trip to visit agricultural projects in Chokwe (about 2 1/2 hours away). He left at 8 am and will return home tomorrow night. Our empragada (wonderful house help) arrived at 8:30 and I sent her up the street with my mother and Mia to buy her two uniforms for cleaning (which of course are not purchased from a store, rather they are displayed from the low hanging branches of a cashew tree growing from the sidewalk). Buying a uniform is standard practice in Mozambique, however I was not alerted to the expectation until after Theresa had started working for us and politely asked me in Portuguese for some work clothes. I of course had no clue what she was saying, but eventually through sign language determined that she was needing a different shirt to wear while cleaning. So being new to this whole thing I gave her one of Steve's t-shirts. I can only imagine the laughter around her dinner table that night about the crazy, clueless American senhora who handed her a t-shirt! Let's just say I've learned a lot since then. At 9 am promptly my Portuguese tutor showed up and drilled my brain for one hour. It's amazing how disoriented you can become when learning a new language. For instance at one point during our lesson Leonora asked me (in Portuguese) "What is your uncle's name?" I looked at her in stunned silence and she asked me the same question again. Well, I couldn't respond to her because although I had understood her question I couldn't for the life of me remember my uncle's name. This would have been an understandable oversite if I only had one uncle, however I happen to have seven uncles and I could not come up with one single name. So I finally looked at her and made it up. At the end of our time together I often struggle with Portuguese AND English! I pray God will be merciful and help me learn this different language quickly!
After Leonora left I did a few loads of laundry which is more of a process than it sounds. It actually involves filling my washing machine mostly with buckets of water. Now please understand I am thrilled to have a washing machine, but we have had a tough time trying to get the plumber to get it working right. When the cold works the hot doesn't and when the hot works it's too hot. In fact the water was so hot that it actually melted the top of my washing machine. I asked Steve if he thought our warranty would cover repairing or replacing the top. He actually laughed at me and said, "Sure babe. We live in Africa!" My mom suspects the problem we have with the plumbing may have something to do with the plumber also being the electrician!
Around 11:20, Mom, Mia and I headed off to Lucy's school so Mom could have lunch with Lucy. I had forgotten what time lunch actually started so I picked up the telephone to call school. Unfortunately I discovered the house phone wasn't actually working. Steve had intended to get me a cell phone (no he doesn't even have his own yet. He's using a borrowed one from work) before he left town, but discovered it's not quite that easy. You see in order to have a phone contract for a cell phone (which is dramatically more economical than having to buy SIM cards with minutes) you must have an account at a local bank in town. Opening a bank account isn't as easy as it sounds either. Most bank lines average 3-4 hours to talk to a person and additional time to talk to the appropriate person. It is most effective to have a connection to a bank manager or other bank personal to expedite the process. Luckily (or we would say providentially) Steve had met the CEO of a local bank on Friday night at a desert potluck at Lucy's school. He made a phone call on Steve's behalf and Steve had a bank meeting yesterday. However the paperwork and processing takes a little time and the account is not yet open. Alas, I digress, the point being that I discovered at 11:20ish that we were unable to communicate with anyone outside our home, so we drove to school. As you know from reading previous posts driving is not a leisurely activity in this city and I don't normally drive. However we made it to CAM (Lucy's school) without any problems. I was feeling relieved and a little more relaxed two hours later when I headed back to her school at pick-up time. This time I was alone in the car because Mom and Mia had stayed behind. At 2:30 the traffic is heavy to say the least and there are lots of people walking in the streets, riding bicycles, flagging down crazy chappas and other distractions. As I was assimilating all this information and trying to remember where to turn a police officer on a motorcycle pulled alongside my car. He greeted me in Portuguese and I replied to him in Portuguese. Then he proceeded to rattle off very quickly in Portugues something I did not understand (keep in mind I have not pulled off to the side of the road. I am still in one of two VERY busy lanes on a main road in town. However the police man has no regard for the chaos he is causing while chatting with me in Portuguese.) until he finally asked me to move ahead and pull up on the center median (again totally normal for Mozambique). Well, to make a very long story short between my broken Portuguese and his sign language I determined he was going to write me a ticket which was going to cost me 1 million metacais (about $40). So I asked if he would go with me two blocks up the street to CAM and I would get someone to interpret. He agreed and as I went through the gates at school I asked one of the teachers to find someone to help interpret for me. A very nice dad agreed to come with me and help. He spokes to the officer and then explained to me in English that the officer claimed I ran a red light. "Is this true?" he asks me. "I don't know," I reply. You see half the lights don't work and often it is better and smarter to go with the flow rather than trying to determine if the light is working. My interpreter returned to his conversation with the officer and informed me that I would recieve a ticket, loose my liscense and need to go immediately to the police station to pay the ticket. "I can't," I replied, "My husband is out of town, I have no money with me and I have to pick up my son across town. Can I go to the station on Thursday instead?" He was not sure so he asked the officer. There was a lot of conversation then my interpreter said, "Muito obrigado senhor! Tchau" (which means thank you very much sir, goodbye) and the officer got on his bike. The interpreter looked at me and said, "I don't understand. He was prepared to punish you and when I told him your husband was out of town doing ministry he immediately changed his mind. I don't know what happened, but you're free to go!" In total disbelief and giddy gratitude, I collected Lucy and her carpool friend, said many thanks to my new friend the interpreter and headed off to get Kaleb. Needless to say I drove very slowly and carefully inspected every traffic light to see if it was working. All I can say is thank you Jesus!
When I arrived at Kaleb's school he was waiting with a friend. They wanted to go and play at the boy's house which I agreed was fine. I arranged to pick him up at 5 pm before it got dark. I came home and during the next two hours had two unexpected visitors drop by. Normally visitors would be a welcomed break in the monotony of my day, but both of these visitors speak very little or broken english. So, even though I really like these people and have relationships with both of them, communication is not an enjoyable exchange of information, rather it is painstaking work searching for the right word in Portuguese or trying to understand one another with body movements and hand gestures. Thankfully I actually enjoy charades!
By the time I left my house to pick up Kaleb the skies were full of clouds and rumbling thunder. I was concerned that it would rain before I got back home. This would be a problem for two reasons. One being that driving in the rain is VERY dangerous in Maputo and two the friend lives off a dirt road which quickly turns to sticky mud and is not suitable for non four wheel drive Volkswagon vans! Once again I am grateful to say that God poured out his favor on us and the rain held off until we had arrived back home safely. On our way home we drove through an intersection which is frequented by a group of little boys begging. They always recognize our car and wave wildly when they see us coming. Well tonight one of the boys was a little one named Adrian who is a daily visitor to our gate. He was waving his arms and jumping up and down to get our attention. We waved and honked and drove the five blocks home. Literally 5 minutes later the doorbell rang and it was him. He had a big grin on his face and I exclaimed when I saw him. I asked (in broken Portuguese and motions) if he had run all the way to our house to get there so quickly. He smiled and said, "Yes! I am very fast!" And I smiled and said, "Yes little friend you are very fast!"
These are just a few of the many moments that make up our ordinary days. I have realized many things in the short time we've lived in this city. One of the most significant being that if you look at the ordinary things through God's eyes they become EXTRAordinary!
Blessings to all of you extraordinary friends!
In the morning we get up around 5:45 to begin waking the children for school. Each morning breakfast needs to be prepared (usually something has to be cooked since cereal is a bit of a luxury and saved for days we're running late) and lunches need to be made for school. Lucy's school does not provide any kind of "hot lunch" option so she packs a lunch each day. Kaleb has a lunch program so it depends on the meal offered that day. This morning we had oatmeal (called Jungle Oats here and imported from South Africa) with what they call brown sugar (it's actually more like sugar in the raw) and UHT milk (that is milk that's been heated to a very high temperature and then cooled and packaged so it can sit on the shelf for a VERY long time). Then I had to make Lucy's lunch and pack a snack and water bottle for each child since they start at 7:30 and don't eat until 12 the schools require that you send a snack each day. Maputo doesn't offer many prepackaged foods and the few they do (like dried fruit chutney chips) my children don't like so I usually send crackers with peanut butter or fruit for a snack. Unfortunately, today I forgot to pack Kaleb's and his teacher had to (kindly and willingly chose to) share her crackers with him. [Note the difference in this system. In the States every child would be required to bring a box of crackers or cookies to share with the class for snack time. All 32 or so boxes of snacks would last the whole year. No child would have a forgetful mother overlook his snack needs with such a system. I'm considering suggesting it at the next PTA meeting. However due to the wide ethnic backgrounds and the different snacks consumed this may not be a plausible idea in gradeschool]
At 6:55 Lucy's carpool showed up to pick her up (yes that is the pick up time, it is not a typo an it is the same each day) and at 7:15 Steve left to take Kaleb to school. During that time I showered and got dressed for the day. Steve returned and packed an overnight bag for his first trip to visit agricultural projects in Chokwe (about 2 1/2 hours away). He left at 8 am and will return home tomorrow night. Our empragada (wonderful house help) arrived at 8:30 and I sent her up the street with my mother and Mia to buy her two uniforms for cleaning (which of course are not purchased from a store, rather they are displayed from the low hanging branches of a cashew tree growing from the sidewalk). Buying a uniform is standard practice in Mozambique, however I was not alerted to the expectation until after Theresa had started working for us and politely asked me in Portuguese for some work clothes. I of course had no clue what she was saying, but eventually through sign language determined that she was needing a different shirt to wear while cleaning. So being new to this whole thing I gave her one of Steve's t-shirts. I can only imagine the laughter around her dinner table that night about the crazy, clueless American senhora who handed her a t-shirt! Let's just say I've learned a lot since then. At 9 am promptly my Portuguese tutor showed up and drilled my brain for one hour. It's amazing how disoriented you can become when learning a new language. For instance at one point during our lesson Leonora asked me (in Portuguese) "What is your uncle's name?" I looked at her in stunned silence and she asked me the same question again. Well, I couldn't respond to her because although I had understood her question I couldn't for the life of me remember my uncle's name. This would have been an understandable oversite if I only had one uncle, however I happen to have seven uncles and I could not come up with one single name. So I finally looked at her and made it up. At the end of our time together I often struggle with Portuguese AND English! I pray God will be merciful and help me learn this different language quickly!
After Leonora left I did a few loads of laundry which is more of a process than it sounds. It actually involves filling my washing machine mostly with buckets of water. Now please understand I am thrilled to have a washing machine, but we have had a tough time trying to get the plumber to get it working right. When the cold works the hot doesn't and when the hot works it's too hot. In fact the water was so hot that it actually melted the top of my washing machine. I asked Steve if he thought our warranty would cover repairing or replacing the top. He actually laughed at me and said, "Sure babe. We live in Africa!" My mom suspects the problem we have with the plumbing may have something to do with the plumber also being the electrician!
Around 11:20, Mom, Mia and I headed off to Lucy's school so Mom could have lunch with Lucy. I had forgotten what time lunch actually started so I picked up the telephone to call school. Unfortunately I discovered the house phone wasn't actually working. Steve had intended to get me a cell phone (no he doesn't even have his own yet. He's using a borrowed one from work) before he left town, but discovered it's not quite that easy. You see in order to have a phone contract for a cell phone (which is dramatically more economical than having to buy SIM cards with minutes) you must have an account at a local bank in town. Opening a bank account isn't as easy as it sounds either. Most bank lines average 3-4 hours to talk to a person and additional time to talk to the appropriate person. It is most effective to have a connection to a bank manager or other bank personal to expedite the process. Luckily (or we would say providentially) Steve had met the CEO of a local bank on Friday night at a desert potluck at Lucy's school. He made a phone call on Steve's behalf and Steve had a bank meeting yesterday. However the paperwork and processing takes a little time and the account is not yet open. Alas, I digress, the point being that I discovered at 11:20ish that we were unable to communicate with anyone outside our home, so we drove to school. As you know from reading previous posts driving is not a leisurely activity in this city and I don't normally drive. However we made it to CAM (Lucy's school) without any problems. I was feeling relieved and a little more relaxed two hours later when I headed back to her school at pick-up time. This time I was alone in the car because Mom and Mia had stayed behind. At 2:30 the traffic is heavy to say the least and there are lots of people walking in the streets, riding bicycles, flagging down crazy chappas and other distractions. As I was assimilating all this information and trying to remember where to turn a police officer on a motorcycle pulled alongside my car. He greeted me in Portuguese and I replied to him in Portuguese. Then he proceeded to rattle off very quickly in Portugues something I did not understand (keep in mind I have not pulled off to the side of the road. I am still in one of two VERY busy lanes on a main road in town. However the police man has no regard for the chaos he is causing while chatting with me in Portuguese.) until he finally asked me to move ahead and pull up on the center median (again totally normal for Mozambique). Well, to make a very long story short between my broken Portuguese and his sign language I determined he was going to write me a ticket which was going to cost me 1 million metacais (about $40). So I asked if he would go with me two blocks up the street to CAM and I would get someone to interpret. He agreed and as I went through the gates at school I asked one of the teachers to find someone to help interpret for me. A very nice dad agreed to come with me and help. He spokes to the officer and then explained to me in English that the officer claimed I ran a red light. "Is this true?" he asks me. "I don't know," I reply. You see half the lights don't work and often it is better and smarter to go with the flow rather than trying to determine if the light is working. My interpreter returned to his conversation with the officer and informed me that I would recieve a ticket, loose my liscense and need to go immediately to the police station to pay the ticket. "I can't," I replied, "My husband is out of town, I have no money with me and I have to pick up my son across town. Can I go to the station on Thursday instead?" He was not sure so he asked the officer. There was a lot of conversation then my interpreter said, "Muito obrigado senhor! Tchau" (which means thank you very much sir, goodbye) and the officer got on his bike. The interpreter looked at me and said, "I don't understand. He was prepared to punish you and when I told him your husband was out of town doing ministry he immediately changed his mind. I don't know what happened, but you're free to go!" In total disbelief and giddy gratitude, I collected Lucy and her carpool friend, said many thanks to my new friend the interpreter and headed off to get Kaleb. Needless to say I drove very slowly and carefully inspected every traffic light to see if it was working. All I can say is thank you Jesus!
When I arrived at Kaleb's school he was waiting with a friend. They wanted to go and play at the boy's house which I agreed was fine. I arranged to pick him up at 5 pm before it got dark. I came home and during the next two hours had two unexpected visitors drop by. Normally visitors would be a welcomed break in the monotony of my day, but both of these visitors speak very little or broken english. So, even though I really like these people and have relationships with both of them, communication is not an enjoyable exchange of information, rather it is painstaking work searching for the right word in Portuguese or trying to understand one another with body movements and hand gestures. Thankfully I actually enjoy charades!
By the time I left my house to pick up Kaleb the skies were full of clouds and rumbling thunder. I was concerned that it would rain before I got back home. This would be a problem for two reasons. One being that driving in the rain is VERY dangerous in Maputo and two the friend lives off a dirt road which quickly turns to sticky mud and is not suitable for non four wheel drive Volkswagon vans! Once again I am grateful to say that God poured out his favor on us and the rain held off until we had arrived back home safely. On our way home we drove through an intersection which is frequented by a group of little boys begging. They always recognize our car and wave wildly when they see us coming. Well tonight one of the boys was a little one named Adrian who is a daily visitor to our gate. He was waving his arms and jumping up and down to get our attention. We waved and honked and drove the five blocks home. Literally 5 minutes later the doorbell rang and it was him. He had a big grin on his face and I exclaimed when I saw him. I asked (in broken Portuguese and motions) if he had run all the way to our house to get there so quickly. He smiled and said, "Yes! I am very fast!" And I smiled and said, "Yes little friend you are very fast!"
These are just a few of the many moments that make up our ordinary days. I have realized many things in the short time we've lived in this city. One of the most significant being that if you look at the ordinary things through God's eyes they become EXTRAordinary!
Blessings to all of you extraordinary friends!
posted by Sniders in Africa at 8/23/2005 09:10:00 PM
<< Home