Computers, Media Training, and Bush Outreach

    The last two weeks have been an intense process of adjustment and learning. I arrived on June 15th a bit early, which is apparently unheard of. As I walked down the stairs onto the tarmac, I was clearly in Africa and the smells and sensations cued memories of my arrival in Kenya. The warm, still air carried the familiar scents of diesel, body odor, wood smoke, and sewage, combined here with that of the nearby ocean. I was once again blessed with a very simple passage through customs and I waited outside for my ride absorbing my new surroundings.
    About the time the taxi driver I was talking to had exhausted his English, Jon and Carla arrived  and took me on a tour of Beira. We drove first to the beach, then from mansions to shacks via open air markets. And then to Wednesday "bible study" at church, which was perhaps the most startling of all. That trip, and the following few days were rather overwhelming as I re-encountered the infrastructure dysfunction, cultural challenges, and myriad other stressors of an unfamiliar, developing country. Poverty is much more severe and pervasive than I observed in Kenya, though apparently the city is rapidly developing. In addition, the language barrier is much greater than anywhere else I have traveled, adding to the disorienting experience as an alien.

The street in front of my house/the Equip Moz office

    My first few days were a return to age 12, attempting to create working computers from broken, aging hardware. Someone donated a bunch of computers and printers in various states of dysfunctionality, and without knowing anything about what worked testing was quite a challenge. Technical knowledge is rare here, and though I have no more experience than that of a tinkerer, I am a relative expert simply by knowing what the inside of a computer looks like. Organization is also a rare skill, so I sorted tubs of electronics and arranged things on shelves. I also followed Jon around on errands, became acquainted with the city, studied Portuguese, met people, and spent a lot of time at church. Two friends of Jon and Carla skilled in media arrived a few days after me, and planned training for the next week. Media teams from several churches in the area came together to learn basic project planning, video shooting, and editing. Once again skills and knowledge taken for granted in the states are invaluable here, and the crowd of students steadily grew during the week.
 
I sat in on a some of the training because Equip Moz helps the local church a lot with media processing, which I know little about. I thoroughly enjoyed learning with the Mozambicans as peers, collaborating the practice projects, and learning a bit of Portuguese in the process. With the rest of my time I continued working on computers slowly isolating the problems. I also learned a lot about the culture, development, corruption, and the opportunities that exist here as I tried to find where I fit in the activities. I still felt completely out of place, and mostly unproductive, but at least I could manage the five minute walk from the office where I stay to Jon and Carla's house without getting lost. I even ran across town at 0415 to run with some South Africans I met in the English service of church. They had cancelled due to impending rain, so I had a lovely morning reading on the beach as the sun rose.

   Over the weekend I joined the people from the English service for an outreach in the bush two hours north. Our bus jolted over familiarly rough dirt roads and I chatted with the other people. Most were from Zimbabwe (and hence spoke english) and it was great to be able to actually converse. I talked about logistics in Africa with guy who works for Cargill in that role, and discussed politics with a missionary from Eldoret Kenya. I was reading Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid, which intrigued several people and started a conversation on development. We passed hundreds of pedestrians, and wondered aloud how far they all had walked. We also passed people riding or pushing bicycles comically overloaded with burlap sacks of charcoal. I was saddened by the thought of the ancient trees that had been sacrificed in the interest of the day's income. The paradox is that deforestation is wreaking ecological havoc, but it is also the livelyhood of many in sub-Saharan Africa.

João and I

    The bus stopped without explanation in the village of Chinamacondo, so we got out to stretch. I talked with João, a second year medical student from Beira about his motivation coming from seeing the need for medical care. After an hour, and buying eating some two-cent oranges from a stand, I asked if anyone knew why we had stopped here. No one did. The bus driver had also disappeared. Our situation was discussed for a minute or two, no conclusions were reached, and it was dropped again.
 
    The bus driver eventually showed up, and we learned that we were waiting to be ferried by the pastor because the road was too bad for the bus. Just before sunset half of us climbed the back of a pick-up for a 40 minute drive to the Nhamasengheri.

    Riding in the back of the pick-up, at golden hour, on a track through the bush is exhilarating, and awakened a desire for adventure and exploration of untamed lands. At the same time I wondered how people survive so far from 'civilization' and thought of the challenges of development work in this remote of an area. The two wheel track dwindled to a footpath, wound through undergrowth and forded several streams before arriving at a partially finished shack. We set up tents, made a fire, and then ate supper while the pastor went back for the rest of the group.

I wandered a little ways away to look at the stars, and as my eyes adjusted I was more and more astounded by what I saw. The stars of the bush are unrivaled by any I have seen elsewhere, even in the high desert of the American Southwest. The milky way was a shimmering cloud with swirling texture and tendrils of stars. The rest of the sky was so populated with stars that it was difficult to make out constellations. I lay on my back in the sand and listened to the night until it was pierced by approaching headlights.

   Our plan was to show the Jesus Film in the tribal language Senna using a generator to power the speaker and projector. The generator did not wish to start. Five or six people were crowded around it so I wandered into the night again and sang hymns with the stars. By the time I returned the generator was running, but only for one minute intervals. I thought I might be able to channel Simeon, so I followed the path of fuel to the carburetor, checking the filter, pump, and lines. After a bit of pondering I thought to remove the air-filter as that had caused similar problems with a lawn mower once. But we didn't have pliers. With true African innovation one of the guys used the jaws of the jumper cables to grip the nut and was able to loosen it. The filter didn't look too dirty, but without it the generator ran. I wrapped the air intake with a t-shirt to keep out the larger bugs, and we drove to the school to set up the equipment. It was 2200 and a chilling 60 degrees Fahrenheit by the time we started the movie, so only 40 ish people showed up. João introduced the movie in Senna, and crowd, mostly children, was glued to the screen for the next two hours as the story of Jesus was reenacted.

    After a night of very little sleep I got up a bit before six and sat around a fire as the sun rose. While corn porridge was prepared for breakfast we kicked a soccer ball around to shake the morning chill. Some of the people joined a Brazilian missionary couple for a kids program at the school and the rest went hut-to-hut evangelizing.














    Many had been talked to on previous outreaches and the people who had come before we excited to meet with them again. I went with a group to the local chief's house and sat down outside with his family, including his daughters, sons, and their wives and children. We exchanged pleasantries for a while and then told the story of creation, fall, and Jesus' life and death.
     Samira was very engaging in her presentation and held the attention of all but the toddlers. The chief said his whole family attended church, and one of his daughters seemed to have absorbed a lot. It was clear she had put some effort into learning about God, and I also observed that she seemed the happiest of all of them. One of the others appeared pretty angry the whole time, and when we offered to pray at the end, it came out that she was bothered by a spirit. She wore a charm from a witch doctor, so Samira talked with her for a bit, and she removed it and allowed us to pray with her. One of the sons had a child they had not yet named, and apparently it was decided that should be done. The father had chosen to name her Azalea, and the mother agreed. In a rather awkward ceremony the name was given, and I told them through double translation it was the name of a flower. The chief showed us around his garden where he grows pineapple. Quite successfully apparently, as it included the largest pineapple I have ever seen. His fruit trees also included mango, lychee, orange, tangerine, papaya, guava, and passionfruit. He sent us with two pineapples and a basket of tangerines, and many thanks for our visit. On the way back to the school we passed a bakery, consisting of a wood-fired, clay oven under a thatched roof. Domingo, the owner, sold us still warm bread for about ten cents for each small loaf. It was delicious.

 

  After distributing some clothes and cleaning up we headed back to Chinamacondo. While they ran the shuttle again I wandered out of town to enjoy the solitude. These two boys were clearly fascinated by this Mzungu, so I took a picture of them with their bikes. After they moved on I was alone with the afternoon sun and the smell of summer evening. I was not at all disappointed that the shuttle took over two hours, and somewhat regretfully got back on the bus. We bounced back to Beira parallel to the sunset to bumping gangster rap, and I listened to Piano Guys in my headphones.


(Thanks to Melissa for many of the photos in this post.)