Sunday morning, March 7th

The sounds of life began around 6 am. The first sound that entered my consciousness was laughter. It struck me how often I was hearing laughter - yesterday from the excited and gathered PEDRA girls, from the youth going home after youth group, from children playing in the little creeks and now from the women sitting in the shade for a moment,and those first individuals walking down the road to somewhere. This laughter is noteworthy.

After a hearty breakfast of eggs and those homefry equivalents, a sausage and tomatoes and cucumbers, and a coffee, I ventured out on the street of this little town by myself. As I started to stroll, I was acutely aware of being something of a spectacle, long dress for church, different skin and hair colour and also because I had my big camera in hand. But that camera turned out to be the very thing which broke down the barriers between me and the people on the street, just a little. There were a few children looking suspiciously at me. One seemed a little braver, I took a picture of her and then encouraged her to come over and see the digital image on the back of the camera. When she did, she broke up in laughter and that enticed the other children to come over as well. They all wanted to see themselves.

Standing by the front doors of the inn was Cecelia, the innkeeper I suppose, who was going out of her way to make us all comfortable since we arrived. She too wanted a picture of herself. The reaction was the same - this genuine laughter that was both a sense of being pleased as well as pleasing to my ear. Even without a common language between us, it was easy to enjoy this moment of glee.

A few minutes later, Cecelia came and asked me to take pictures of her co-workers - this man who was making the floor spic and span and her friend who was doing the cooking. They were so pleased to see themselves together in this picture.

When I mentioned this to Bill, he explained that in these rural areas, many people do not have an opportunity to see themselves - there are few mirrors, no shiny bumpers on cars or shiny teakettles. Maybe a still clear puddle or the occasional clean window. To have seen themselves with such clarity might in fact been the first time for those younger children. How I wished that I had a Polaroid camera!!

This little town of Namarroi is truly picturesque with the mountains in the background. It is early but people are moving along with their sugar cane, coconuts and all sorts of wares. The music man across the street is playing a bit of reggae and some local music that sounds a lot like a Portuguese polka based ballad! Around the corner I stopped to watch a large black sow defend her piglets from a far too curious shepherd type dog. Further up the street I saw another dog enjoying the morning sun while the owner (I assume) was already busy sewing something on his front porch with the black Singer sewing machine with the foot pedal like my mother used to have when I was little. I saw these same sewing machines in Tanzania at the Women's Training Centre. Makes sense for places that have little if any electricity!

Before I knew it, Karen had tracked me down and told me it was time to load up and make our way to the church. Jack and Pastor Bene were there at the inn with the truck mostly loaded, just waiting for my suitcase. In we climbed with our Sunday best on and as we began to move down the road, I suddenly realized that this little town had somehow managed to quickly feel familiar and comfortable. I was a little sad to see it fade past the eucalyptus trees that lined the road at one point.

A few bumps and turns and shortly we were pulling into a church and school complex. And there, just like yesterday was this big group of PEDRA girls. They had all come in from their various villages to share in this church service. I was amazed. They looked so beautiful with their radiant and curious faces. And their "maes" (leaders) Jacenta and Rosa were so proud of the singing and dancing. What a celebration!! There were over 60 PEDRA girls and I think everyone was so impressed. I certainly noted how tender Karen became and I was so happy for her and the ministry she has offered to these girls and their families and their villages.


As we stood under the shade of the large tree (for even at 9 am that African sun was hot), the local pastor, Rafael, greeted Pastor Bene and then was introduced to me. Other village people were gathering as well. About 10 minutes later, Pastor Bene came over to me and asked if I would like to give the sermon this morning in church. I quickly declined and assured him that he would do a much better job. To preach the Gospel of hope and grace in someone else's context has always challenged me. It brought back memories of those first services I did as a student intern with the Methodist church in Barbados.

It was time to go into the church for the service. As I walked along, suddenly my left foot just dropped into the ground beneath me. I had hit a pocket under the ground that sometimes is created by the ants. It surprised me for sure but no harm came. I just had to figure out how to get out of that hole in my dress with a bad right knee and still have some dignity. Not sure I accomplished the dignity but with Bill's help I made it up and carried on.

It was a large gathering place. Joining the two pastors at the front was a youth pastor and the reader for the day. When I looked behind me there was a sea of PEDRA girls and other youth groups that had started to sit down. The service began with some introductions and greetings. I was able to address the gathered people and bring greetings from the church in Canada. That felt good, especially with Bill and Karen sitting there and knowing that those who support the Mission and Service Fund are directly influencing the ministry in this remote place in Mozambique. My heart was proud of our United Church and its principles of partnership and its vision to see the value of the ministry here.

There were many, many community announcements - this is truly a place of sharing each others trials and joys. Then the youth pastor talked about a recent youth conference and the subsequent opportunity that was created for someone from the village to go to a year long Bible study with a bursary that was being offered. The only catch - they would have to leave tomorrow. Much was said about how this was a golden opportunity for someone and a privilege for the village.

Then the first hymn and prayers were offered. The hymns were familiar in tune and reading Portuguese phonetically seemed to get me through. Next was a series of musical offerings from the children, the PEDRA girls and the local youth group. Song after song of celebration, some from what I could interpret through hand movement would have been praise music. I was so moved by the sound of those voices, the harmonies and the accompanying rhythms created by the stomping or dragging of feet on the concrete floor. The human body can indeed create a wondrous sound.

It was time for the sermon. This was made more challenging for as Pastor Bene spoke in Portuguese, Pastor Rafael translated into the local dialect while Bill translated into English for me! But as Pastor Bene spoke I knew that once again I had been blessed to be in the company of a minister who understood the need for community based ministry, who understood the dynamic of life within the church as a way to engage life outside the church. I connected to his message deeply. Using the Matthew passage of the disciples in the boat on the sea when the storm came upon them, Pastor Bene spoke of his people's storms in life - waves of HIV/AIDS, being orphaned, having the drought take away their food for tomorrow, having cholera and malaria make their children die at such tender ages, women dying in childbirth. These waves of trouble are just as real as the waves that crashed upon the disciples in the boat. Then he challenged them to two things: first, to have faith in the Jesus who did calm the storm and held his disciples safe; and secondly, to work together to help each other, find new ways of protecting the children, to create ways in which people can be involved in the communities outside the churches and bring hope in the face of all their common problems.

My heart was leaping for joy and tears streamed down my face - it always does when I realize I am listening to a prophet. These words were a powerful message, especially since Pastor Bene lived the storms right along his people. I longed for the opportunity to demonstrate my solidarity with this message which I too preach in my very different context. In that moment there was a clarity of the Good News in the church universal. In that moment I knew I had to find a time and place to speak with Pastor Bene at length. I was so deeply moved that I had a hard time focusing on the rest of the service.

After the service there was a time of mingling outside. I had a bit of a hard time to be in that moment and space for my heart and head were still trying to process what had just happened over the last 2 hours. Soon it was time to say goodbye and start our afternoon journey higher into the mountains towards the border with Malawi.