Sunday, March 7th, afternoon and evening

The road uphill became noticeably more bumpy and I found it easier to hang on to the the side of the truck and enjoy the wind in my face (too bad it didn't occur to me to put sunscreen on that arm!). I was able to more fully take in the sights, sounds and smells of the countryside that passed alongside. Crops changed a little and a few more places seemed to be growing tobacco (shown here on the drying racks). With the construction of a tobacco processing plant further to the south in Mozambique, tobacco was poised to become a cash crop of some importance for the economics of the region. The drought seemed to affect that crop less than the maize.

Village life remained simple as we drove through. Bicycles and washbasins were in abundance. Bicycles are the primary mode of transportation in Mozambique, easing the burden of carrying things on heads. Often a bicycle became like a beast of burden with a large and heavy load of charcoal bags or timber being strapped to the bicycle while the person walked that long journey into a town. Other times these bicycles carried chickens or goats tied onto the back. And of course often there were 2 or 3 or 4 people on the bicycle! Unfortunately, some of them seemed to panic when they heard our truck coming and in their effort to get off the road, they steered into the bush and fell. I hope no-one was seriously hurt!

These blue washbasins seem to common in all three countries I have visited and are fundamental to the washing of clothes. Wherever there was a stream along the road, there too were the blue basins on the shore with people in the stream having a bath. The children of coarse looked to be playing far more than bathing but who could blame them on a sunny Sunday afternoon!

Sundays also seem to be a time for socializing and shopping in the villages. Clothing "stores", bicycle repair shops, hardware stores were open along with food and material and sundry items for sale. I began to notice that there were shops for the essentials of life, but there didn't seem to be any tourist type things that I have experienced in most of the other countries I have traveled in the world. When I shared this observation with the others in the truck, Karen commented that this part of Mozambique is the forgotten place where no tourists come. Being considerably off the beaten path may also account for the very few NGO (non-governmental organization) offices that I saw. Unfortunately, being off the beaten path also means that the needs of these people go largely unnoticed in the context of global issues and continental development. I pondered that and began to question if that lack of tourist attention had something to do with my growing feelings for this land I was privileged to walk on and for the people that I was interacting with even if it so very little. I was also aware that I was the tourist and pondered what stereotype I might be creating.

Perhaps it was the emotional intensity of this morning's worship service and the growing contemplations of all these experiences and information, but the afternoon drive became relatively quiet. I was also trying to refine the questions that I longed to discuss with Pastor Bene. Those questions have been brewing ever since I knew I was coming to Africa. I was 12 years old when I first sensed a need to go to Africa. Much has changed in the intervening decades both globally and in my own spirit and psyche. But there remained a deep restlessness that somehow demanded answers. And those answers would come I thought, if I could only ask the right questions of someone like Pastor Bene. Unfortunately, those deep questions now seemed to get caught in the swirl of the many other questions I ask in order to develop even the smallest insight to life from someone else's perspective. I seem to be hardwired to the impossible yet persistent need to understand the world through many eyes. This default tendency makes for tiring conversations for others while stimulating me.

Well soon enough we arrived in the village of Molumbo which has a craggy outcrop to give an inspiring backdrop and I suppose a reference point as one travels down trails and footpaths. We slowed down to pull into a small lane that led to a small concrete building surrounded by lawn and garden and trees. We had arrived at the clinic out of which the Medicinal Plant project (Medi-Plantas) is located. This project is funded partially by The United Church of Canada in partnership with the Christian Council of Mozambique - Zambezia.

To greet us was Pastor Manteiga Pulaisse and a group of young people who were the ecumenical youth group from Molumbo. The young people greeted us with song and dance. Pastor Manteiga explained the critical role this youth group is playing in the village as a voice for AIDS education, for community development and as role models to the many children. They seemed like very mature young adults and I wish I had the language to be able to talk to them directly. I normally have much to talk about with this age group.

Different however, was the gift I received from them - a chicken!! It was a lovely chicken but, because of my similar experiences in Jamaica, I assumed this lovely chicken was going to be our meal tonight! Even throughout our late dinner and through most of Monday, I continued to believe that supper was this nice chicken. It was late Monday night when I came to realize that my chicken had come back with us to Quielimane! Pastor Bene explained to me that this gift of chicken is highly symbolic. The giver of the chicken gives their household to you and thereby joining the two households together. The receiver of the chicken accepts the gift and vows to look after it as it will now look after the household of the giver. A symbiotic relationship is created with this ritual of a chicken. I wish I had known that this Sunday afternoon. I could have thanked them differently and taken care of my chicken differently! (I did give my chicken to Jack our trusty driver because all realized that I could not bring my chicken back home on the planes! But I now value this picture of my chicken and what it represents!)

In exchange for the chicken, Bill invited me to give Pastor Manteiga the new laptop computer that had been donated by folks in Canada and which I had carried throughout my travels to and in Africa. It came with two substantial batteries that would allow him enough power before needing to go to the closest town that had power. The clinic and the Molumbo village area have no electricity.

The Medi-Plantas project is based on the growing, distribution and harvesting of indigenous plants known for their medicinal qualities. Through training and research the combination of plants that can aid those with malaria and HIV has been developed. Through Medi-Plantas, CCM is also working closely with the local registered members of AMETRAMO, the Association of Traditional Healers of Mozambique.

This project is critical in this rural area where HIV /AIDS, malaria and malnutrition is extremely high. Malnutrition compromises further the health of those on anti-viral drugs, especially in the first months of treatment. Poverty denies access to other pharmaceuticals that would be common in other areas of the globe. Remote living also denies ready access to the closest hospital in Gurue, a round trip of about 100 klm. Nonetheless, this trip needs to be made in order to test the patient's white blood cell count and determine the start of the drugs. The Molumbo Health Centre is not equipped to deal with HIV but works with Pastor Manteiga to strengthen the patient for this long trip to Gurue.

The Medi-Plantas project started in April 2008 with a garden that in its initial planting, had to survive first drought and then tremendous rains. (see Bill's story on this initial development of this project in the Medi-Plantas Link). Today this "Mother Garden" as it is referred to is about 70 metres square and full of medicinal plants and a few nutritional plants. This "Mother Garden" has now spawned two more mother gardens, each about 50 metres squared. All of these gardens supply the transplants that are given to the HIV person and their support networks, often their families. Discrimination against HIV people often takes the form of kicking the person out of the family home and even the local village. Through counseling and support services like the medicinal plants, the CCM is able to reduce this crippling social behaviour. Today there are 257 families which receive vegetable seeds through the nutritional program and these families support 86 individuals with HIV/AIDS. To further reduce the discrimination practices of the community, each HIV person is able to give seeds to 4 other members of their own extended family. That distribution brings the total number of families that are supported by the Medi-Plantas project to 507. There are now 16 local gardens that support this network of people.

When the sick person receives the transplants they and their support people are shown how to plant and tend the crops. They also become part of a Training Group that goes through extensive group sessions that include: chronic disease and complications; immunization care; medicinal plant identification with scientific and local names; garden visits and extensive training for the creation of the teas and syrups from the medicinal plants. CCM also supplies the candles and syrups that are required for making some of the medicines. I will return to this critical and most unique project later.
When the greeting time drew to a close, Jack unloaded the supplies we had brought with us from the truck. We were headed to the "Mother Gardens". The young people were also very anxious to show us where they wish to develop another garden. Before I knew it, all the young people and all the adults crawled into the truck in one space or another for the journey down the road. I was glad I got to ride up front but I remember this mode of packed transport in many other countries.

The first garden was magnificent. I was so excited to see this since I have a personal interest in using medicinal plants at home as supports for my own health. I don't grow them (yet!) but look to them as first line of defense when illness creeps in. Throughout our time in the fields, Bill was taking a video for a documentary that is planned for later this year.

I certainly recognized some of the plants . One very common to some of us in Canada would be the Aloe Vera plant, which you see in front of Pastor Manteiga. It was also interesting to see the vegetable seeds that had just been planted despite the drought that persisted. But what was most certainly the most interesting to see was the sheer passion and joy Pastor Manteiga had as he carefully explained things to each of us. Pastor Bene and Karen were equally asking questions and like I, trying to comprehend how this Mother Garden has gone on to make so many people so much healthier as they learn to lead good and productive lives despite the challenges of HIV/AIDS.

Down the road a ways we came to the field where the youth group from Molumbo wish to develop their medicinal and nutritional garden. What a setting it was! What a vision it is!
I wish I could understand what the young people were saying as Bill videotaped them about their dream. I look forward to seeing the finished product on YouTube (with English sub-titles I hope!).

One more stop at one of the other gardens and then it was time to head back to the clinic. We dropped young people off here and there along the way. It was then I realized that I had not had much of an opportunity to talk to them one on one. It was a busy, interesting time but what an opportunity missed!

It was time to clean up and get set for the fast approaching darkness. I looked for opportunities to go and talk with Pastor Bene but he was enjoying his conversation with Pastor Manteiga. I knew that it was a far more important conversation between the President of the Zambezia District of the CCM and this critical project manager, pastor and nurse. (Later I found out that Pastor Manteiga is also a Specialist in Chronic Diseases.)

As darkness came upon us, the solar lights that London Conference had sent to the clinic kicked in. It was just enough light to see where you were going, to see what you were eating and for me, to see what I was writing when we gathered for conversation after supper. It was a time of humbling discovery. It was then that I had my first experience of the presence of Christ directly in this healing ministry. Here is the story that moved me.

Referrals come to the clinic through the Medical Centre in Molumbo, by other patients, by family members or church members; but referrals come to Pastor Manteiga whose reputation as a healer in all aspects of human need precede him. Sometimes the patient is literally dropped off at his house by a family who is afraid and does not want the person close by. He goes to find the family and talks to them about the disease and works very hard to get the family to accept the person back into their household. The Medi-Plantas project is explained, as is the nutritional support that will be provided, the assistance with the travel back and forth to the hospital in Gurue and the personal support of the CCM staff. This support includes a visit every other day to ensure that the medicines are being used properly. What I began to grasp slowly was the enormity of this ministry of support. Patients are scattered throughout the countryside, some in places accessible only by bicycle.

When it is time for the patients to travel to the hospital, Pastor Manteiga goes to their home and brings them on the back of his motorcycle or bicycle back to the clinic the day before. There the patients rest and eat before the long journey. The next morning, close to dawn, the patients have to climb into the back of a transport type truck along with other passengers. Pastor Manteiga goes along to ensure their well being since the journey is hard on them. Some patients die en route. He also mediates the discrimination that is likely to occur with the other passengers. His expertise is also needed in the hospital with the patients as they undergo tests and to be present during the patient/doctor consultation. The Hospital recognizes the valuable work that he does and attempts to schedule all his patients on the same day to minimize his trips. That I am sure is much appreciated. After a full day of consultations, everyone gets back on the transport truck for the long, dusty and bumpy journey back. I can hardly imagine what that would be like for I know how achy my back became bumping up and down in a nice four wheel drive, cushioned seat truck!

When the patients and Pastor Manteiga return to the clinic, the patients stay overnight again, receiving food and medicine. The next day Pastor Manteiga begins the multiple journeys to take each patient back to their home. This entire procedure takes 3 days, requires the feeding of the patients with 2 suppers as well as food for the journey, and the $100 meticals for the cost of having the truck wait till all the patients are done before heading back to Molumbo. Often this process occurs every 15 days when the patients are new and their blood works needs to be taken as the anti-viral drugs begin to take effect.

The description of this journey to the hospital in Gurue was nothing short of simultaneously disturbing and miraculous. As I listened and questioned Pastor Manteiga, I sometimes asked for re-clarification because I could hardly believe the story. I became agitated; agitated at my own ease of life and the banquet table of health care that is at my finger tips when others have to endure so much.

The thought of these HIV/AIDS patients having to bring their sick bodies to the hospital via a transport truck disturbed me greatly. What a difference a truck/ambulance would make for the care of these people - surely it must be possible! While the emotions raged inside I knew that during this conversation I could not make promises that I could not keep nor make promises on behalf of anyone else. I tried to be careful to ask what was needed from their perspective while internally problem solving from my perspectives. That was a very difficult moment of juggling an internal and external thought process laden with emotions making it hard to continue the conversation. I was being haunted by the look in Pastor Manteiga's eyes as he talked about the toll this journey to the hospital takes on the patients, never mind the ability of the clinic to cope with this need to transport, feed and care. I returned to my room and let the story of this reality burn into my heart to see how God will give it life when I return to Canada. I went to sleep that night with much on my heart and lips.