un-christmas

This Christmas was different for me than it has ever been before. I know that may seem apparent on the surface, but I say that for several reasons. The obvious ones being that the seasons are opposite here (it is summer right now in the southern hemisphere), it's my first one away from family and friends, and in a new culture.

candy canes

snow

christmas trees

scarves

hot cocoa

carols

christmas lights

presents

A Christmas Movie

shopping

ornaments

ham

snowmen

stockings

nativity scenes

gingerbread

fireplaces

tinsel

sledding

parades

Very few of these things are actually present here.

Somehow over the years these things have become what defines or at least make Christmas feel like Christmas for me. It's the warm, fuzzy feeling of walking/driving through Christmas lights, the rush of finishing up your last minute shopping before it's too late, those smells that are only smelled once a year and bring you back to when you were a young child, the excitement of getting a gift for someone that you know they are really going to enjoy, the fun of building gingerbread houses together, and the numbness of your hands as you pack together snow for a jolly snowman.

Every year I say and think the same thing, that I really want to get to the root of the true meaning of Christmas. Isn't that a typical characteristic of American culture, to want to celebrate the real meaning and not to get caught up in everything else? Yet it is so difficult to do in the hustle and bustle of the season. I feel as if I was forced into the depths of that this year. Honestly, it hasn't been easy being far away from loved ones during the holiday season.

As things got difficult over the past couple of weeks, I was able to spend time thinking on the purpose of it all and the cross. Why did Jesus come? He came to die. The only reason we celebrate His birth is because His death gave us life. That is what the real celebration is about. His death, the fact that He was born to die. And that in His death we can have life. Apart from Him we are left to our sin and the destruction that it brings. But because of His great love He came to this earth, miraculously born of a virgin, to make a way for His people. This is the gospel. What our lives are to be centered on. What my life is to be centered on!

So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

1 Corinthians 10.31

I then got to thinking this is the reason for everything in my life and why I do what I do, think what I think, work where I work, eat what I eat, and live where I live. This is the reason I am here, in Mozambique. To bring the good news of salvation and hope to those without it. I've been called and sent here with a purpose. That purpose being to bring glory to God and spread the gospel. Christmas is about the gospel, our lives are a portrait of the gospel, and I am here with only one goal in mind. To know Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings,becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3.8-11

So even though I wasn't able to celebrate Christmas in the comfortable way that I might have liked, I was sweetly reminded of the meaning of Christmas, which overflows into the purpose of living here and my life. In our field only four out of eleven of us were actually healthy on Christmas day. So we postponed our festivities and spent a couple hours in the hospital, finishing the day off by eating Indian food at a muslim-owned restaurant. It was just a normal day. No different than any other. Throughout the day I was sent little reminders on the true meaning of Christmas and what that looks like in my life. Needless to say I often find myself falling short of the calling I've been given. But God is gracious and faithful to continue the work He has started in those He has called. So this Christmas I'm grateful to have been reminded of the purpose of it all.

"All of life comes down to just one thing, that's to know you, O Jesus, and to make you known."

--One Thing by Charlie Hall

One thing have I asked of the LORD,

that will I seek after:

that I may dwell in the house of the LORD

all the days of my life,

to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD

and to meditate in his temple.

Psalm 27.4

a new normal

Approaching the halfway mark of my time here in mozambique life has been a continual adjustment into a new normal. Things that are now normal didn't become that way overnight, but it has instead been a process and constant transition period. A list of common things that are now normal:

• having dirty feet
• coming home to having no electricity, water or combination both
• traffic that turns a two lane road into a six lane road out of nowhere
• sticking out due to a lack of melanin
• seeing people urinate on the side of the road
• seeing at least a dozen goats on the way to or from school each day
• overcrowded chappas with body parts hanging out the windows
• ducks walking around the neighbors yard
• driving down the left side of the road
• a huge lack of trash cans
• cooking everything from scratch
• sleeping under a mosquito net
• seeing a whole cow head being cooked over coals
• the sun coming up at 4:30 a.m.
• men carrying huge AK-47s around
• being able to pick fresh mangoes whenever I'd like
• seeing women carry a variety of things on their heads including tables, propane tanks, and sacks of potatoes

Despite all of these things I sometimes have the tendency to forget that I am actually living in Africa. That my life looks different now than it ever did before. Yet it is a variety of these new things and experiences that I have come to accept and love about living here. There are very few dull moments. I have a new normalcy in my life and most of these things rarely cause me to even turn my head for another glance anymore.

street serenade

A couple days ago I was visiting with the Blanks (fellow WorldVenture missionaries) at their house and these guys walked up wanting to play a song for Rob. I thought I'd share their talent, or lack thereof, with you. They said they would return when they master another song.

the "Golden" wedding

Mr. Golden is one of my colleagues at CAM. He teaches third grade. On December 4th he got married and had the spectacular "golden wedding." Golden because of many reasons his first name is Golden, his suit was gold, his bride's dress was gold, and the teachers at CAM even got together to give him the "golden" tree. The weddings here typically last two days. We were fortunate enough to make it for the reception (and the delicious food). 

One common Mozambican tradition is for the bride to look as sad as possible. I have heard this is because she is to be mourning the fact that she is leaving her family. I find this something almost foreign to me, since American culture is very emotional and excited during a wedding! Also when the bride and groom arrive they have to do a sort of dance together. 

After the meal, everyone is to present their gifts to the bride and groom. The twist is that every person, or group of people, must do a song and dance as the gift is brought forward. Being a table of foreigners, mostly American mixed with Zimbabwean, Swazi, Indian, Dutch and Russian, we had a difficult time trying to come up with a song and dance to go along with it. So we improvised with a song in Shangaan that about half of us knew.

Who said money doesn't grow on trees?

swaziland

The day after Thanksgiving I was able to go to go to Swaziland with my neighbor, Mary, and her two children, Angel and Angelo. Friday morning we caught a chappa into Maputo and got off close to the bus station. We went into the bus station and found the sign for the one going to Swazi. We got in handed over our passports and waited. Little did I know that the buses aren't on a schedule like they are in America, but just wait until the bus is full to depart. We actually ended up waiting for about 2 and 1/2 hours just to leave the bus station. The trip to Swazi wasn't too bad. I was grateful that they only allow the bus to be filled with one person in each seat, as opposed to as many as physically possible like they do in Maputo. We crossed the border, unloaded the mini-bus, then caught a chappa to the town that Mary's parents live in. When we made it to their house I was shocked at how nice the house is. It had carpet, which reminded me very much of American houses (in Maputo I don't think I've seen any houses with wall-to-wall carpeting. We then sat down to a lovely meal in the formal dining room and I was able to meet the different members of her family. There was a great-grandma, two grandmothers, an uncle, mom and dad, two sisters, three more adopted sisters that were orphans, a younger brother, another adopted brother, and even a friendly dog. They were very hospitable and glad to finally meet me after hearing about me from Mary.

The view from the front yard of their house in Swaziland.

The next day we were getting ready to go a birthday party for a family friend. Much to my surprise it was another 2 hours away. (After a quick run to the mall in Mbabane, which was more like an outdoor plaza, but very clean and highly populated with security guards.) We started on our beautiful and scenic drive through the hills of Swazi to the birthday party. It was at this man's house on a compound in the bush, actually very close to the Mozambican border. By the time we arrived most of the people were already there. We soon started feasting. There was so much food. I was surprised at first by the amount of food that was prepared, but then I was shocked by the fact that it actually fed all of the people there. I'm guessing it was easily close to 100 people. The food was delicious and some of it very foreign, yet new, to me!

My plate of food including salad, chicken, rice, cabbage, beets, potatoes, beef and goat.

I soon asked Mary's mom about how they knew this man as she was telling me that she is close to all of the people. At one point they all lived in Rwanda together, but when the war broke out they were forced out of the country just for the sake of remaining alive. Many people went to many different countries as displaced people. This was the community that went to Swaziland. Over the years they have kept their community strong and helped each other remember their identity as wandis, as well as swatis, living in a new land that is not their home. This was amazing to me as I was seeing how these people were still a sort of family after so many years, and hearing stories of how they depended on and learned from each other as they were in a new place with nothing but what they could manage to flee with. The resilience was astounding! But they still remember, they can't forget, and they still have hope. Many of the people present were educated even having a masters or phD. They have made their new land their own, but they still speak of Rwanda as home. They only gather like this on very special occasions, this day being a 50th birthday.

I was able to take part of and see some of the differences in Rwandan culture, specifically within a community that is located in another country. Africa is Africa, but there are definite differences among Africans from different countries, tribes and regions. Even the Mozambican and Rwandan greetings are different. In Mozambique you give a kiss on each cheek, I've gotten quite accustomed to this now and do it without even thinking about it. In Rwanda they give a hug, and not on both sides, so I had to quickly re-adjust what I've gotten used to.

When the time for cake came everyone sang and clapped for the birthday boy (man), Nsanze. He then had to say a speech. Like most good Africans, it was a little lengthy. He talked about when they came from Rwanda and talked about each of their kids and his wife and how they were the ones who helped him keep going when he was at some of the lowest points. He then talked about different people who were present who also helped him start from nothing and support him and his family during rough times. 

Cutting the birthday cake.

macaco, macaco!

"macaco, macaco!" (Portuguese for monkey) was the phrase I heard repeated over and over on Tuesday afternoon. On the way home from school we drove down a different road. In the community there was a monkey hanging out in someone's yard. I didn't believe it at first. Mary, my neighbor, kept trying to show me where it was. So we got out to look. Instantly there was a group of kids that crowded around us as we were trying to look at the monkey. A girl then told us to come into the yard to get a closer look. So we followed her, hesitantly, into the yard to get a closer look. He was jumping around, and luckily tied to a rope, from limb to limb. Mary then told me that she had a banana in the car. So we hurried to go get it. One of the boys that walked us into the yard then tossed it up to the monkey and he caught it, quickly peeled it, and started eating it. I managed to take a few pictures to share with you.

brief video update

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBNVKw7Yffc