From Mozambique...

I climbed up the disintegrating concrete bleachers to take this photo of the Peniel international conference. 

Soon afterward the guards asked me to get down, for my own safety.

I left Mozambique nearly a month ago, but it’s been such a whirlwind of a month that I haven’t gotten a chance to post. And I still start conversations in Portuguese.

Hamburgers with Dino and James

 I ended up working more in everything else than the jam making. Most of my time was used fixing the phones and computers of missionaries and church leaders. I replaced screens, diagnosed problems, and installed Windows 10 six times. I also worked with the Peniel media team, providing tech support and shooting photos during the conference. I was amazed by how hard the media team worked, even when their only recognition was expressed as frustration with unavoidable technical difficulties. (This continent is not kind to electronics.) They truly serve God not Man, and I am thankful to call them friends. The media team organized a surprise send off the day before I left. I was humbled by their appreciation. They were encouraging in my next steps, but many said they’d pray God tells me to come back to Moz. And Mozambicans know how to pray!

Saudades!

 I made a few batches with Flavia, who works with Equip Mozambique, before I left. She was very excited to make jam and quickly learned everything I had to teach. We had some difficulties with uncooperative pectin, but she has persevered even in my absence and is working to perfect the process.
Even amidst all the other activities I put as much time and research into the jam project as I could. After research to teach myself the process, I managed to extract pectin from orange peels and made several batches of pineapple jam and marmalade. Most people I talked to were skeptical about jam with the orange peel in it, but those that tested it enjoyed it.

I planned to buy flights to Nairobi online, but decided to go to the airline office instead as Linhas Aereas de Mozambique is notoriously unreliable. (Apparently they used to fly to some airports in Europe, but are now banned due to their terrible service.) It was a good thing I did, because the flight I was going to take turned out to not exist. Instead I ended up with an itinerary that gave me an overnight in Pemba. None of our Pemba contacts were available, so I arrived at the airport with no idea where I would sleep that night. My first choice would have been a free airport bench, but LAM airports close at night. I did some quick research, found a place a couple klicks away, but the taxi driver told me it has been closed for two years. He knew a hostel on the other side of the peninsula which had cheap lodging (and expensive taxi fare) and delivered me there.

Russell’s Place is one row from the beach, with friendly staff and bougainvillea towering over the gate. I got a tent along the side of the compound, left my belongings (except for valuables because reviews mentioned security concerns) and set off to explore. I walked up the beach, scrambled around the point on coral and sat and watched the breakers as the sun set. I caught the sunrise from the point as well, arriving just in time to see the second half of the orange sphere rise from the waves. I would have arrived with more time but running in sand and over weathered coral in flip-flops wearing a backpack with everything of value that I own is just as awkward as it sounds. The guard of the fancy hotel I passed seemed amused.