When we come back from places like Mozambique we love being questioned about our experiences and are often asked “Did you have a nice time?” But a  seemingly simple and common question provokes a conflict of emotions and becomes difficult to answer. But is there a more appropriate question to ask that is more open-ended? So now you are thinking it would be something like “What was Mozambique like this time?” …….. But no, this question isn’t any easier because how do we explain in a few words something that we don’t even understand ourselves? ………. So in your dejection you may now begin to think that it’s not worth asking because you just can’t get a straightforward answer from these confused and mixed up people. Now here’s a thought…. maybe this is the difficulty…by it’s nature a question demands an answer and in this case there really isn’t one?

Henrique is a diminutive man with a face that reveals his bone structure and a look in his eye that often carries a forlorn sadness that is a consequence of a life that has been cultivated in grinding poverty. His clothing is always ragged and sometimes eccentric. The last time he appeared on the landing outside the flat where we were staying I at first thought he’d had his hair bleached (which shows how slow I am because this would be an exceptional sight in Angoche). In truth he was wearing a fluffy bleached yellow sweatband, obviously discarded by a donor who realised this particular purchase did nothing to add to their glamour. Henrique is not a fashion guru and will generally adorn himself with whatever becomes available.

I like Henrique because he is gentle, persistent, unassuming and grateful even in the face of rejection. The day before we had visited his home in Inguri. His shack lies at the edge of some tidal wetlands that comprise a dark sticky mud, sprinkled with mango bushes. The hut is only about 1.6m high and comprises two small living spaces wrapped with sticks, mud and palm leaves. We had visited previously and find it a privilege to visit the home of this dignified and humble man. On this occasion we were there to pray for his wife, who sat on the floor, propped against one of the walls. With our rudimentary Portuguese we were able to establish that she had some sort of stomach problem, but not having an extensive medical vocabulary we were unable to establish if this was a child-birth problem or something to do with her digestion! She was appreciative of our prayers and gave us a gentle weak smile. They asked for some money but we were unsure of what was wrong and what to do, so on this occasion said that we were not able to help. So when Henrique arrived at our flat that day we were concerned as he was clearly very worried about his wife. The night before she’d lost a lot of blood and he had taken her to the hospital. This is no mean feat as he doesn’t even have a bicycle and it’s a good 45 minute walk for a fit person. Angoche has one ambulance but this is not used for emergency call outs, but rather to transfer patients to the main hospital 4 hours away in Nampula. The story at the hospital is that technically due to the funding from the World Health Organisation and pharmaceuticals supplied to Mozambique there should be sufficient supplies to meet the needs. The truth is that the drugs leaks out through the supply chain and then are resold through pharmacies who are prepared to buy cheap and sell expensive. So the predicament at the hospital is that if you need any drugs having them prescribed and written down on a piece of brown scrap paper only means that you know what you should have. In this case Henrique’s wife needed a drip and none were available without payment, so our response was obvious and swift, sending him away with about £10 to purchase what was needed. To put this in context I think that a good salary for a teacher is about £50 per month. Henrique is not a member of a fishing boat team, but has a friend with a very small boat so sometimes he gets the chance to go out with him to catch fish. I don’t really know how he survives……… if it was me in his predicament I don’t know how I would keep going….that phrase grinding poverty takes on a new clarity.

So what is the answer? At this moment I think it’s the wrong question. It may be valid and strategically correct to ask, but just now I realise that my Western magic wand has lost it’s sparkle. Our own economic crisis leaves me asking more questions about our values and way of life both on a national and also on an individual level. So just now I think that the question should be “What is your response Julian?” Fortunately God has begun to open my eyes to some of this, but it’s like a dim flicking light at the end of a tunnel. I read my daughter’s blog, speaking about what she does in the slums of Kabusi in Kampala, Uganda and learn from her example. I read my Bible as I prepare for this trip and am taken back to the letter Paul wrote to his friends in Corinth, demanding of them a better way. I recognise the importance of a daily faith which takes us on a journey to an eternal hope. The words “Without faith it’s impossible to please God” and “without hope a people perish”. But I remember Paul’s observation about the greatest gift, which is of course love. So the questions are am I a carrier of His love or just a consumer of His love? Didn’t someone say it’s better to give than to receive, so how come I got it the other way around? The penny is beginning to drop. It’s not about my answer but about my response. How do I respond in love? Do I sit in the dirt with my friends, do I cry with them and call out for a new justice and mercy, do I find myself privileged and ready to respond?

I want the story of Henrique and those like him to be told. I want my world to change and I want to be part of the answer. I’m grateful to people who can’t go to Mozambique but who make it possible for us to go and to give. I love the children of Ibstone school who listen to me tells the stories of the children of Tamole in Mozambique and building houses for widowed families. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm and generosity captures my heart. (They raised funds to build homes for 5 families). I want to say thank you for your responses. For your generosity which helps to sustain an agricultural project, provide housing and literacy programmes and also enables us to meet the immediate needs when we visit the Koti people of Angoche. Our Koti Journey continues and we hope to tell the stories and see lives changed, not just by monetary responses, but also by something deeper and more significant. Paul said that love endures all things, believes all things and hopes all things, love never fails. He knew that because of Jesus and how he had been rescued on so many times by a gracious God. I believe that your prayers change things, especially when they are focused on the right target. So thank you again for your generosity of heart, for your finances and prayer support… oh and for your questions. We can only apologise for our incoherent and complicated answers.

Our recent journey to Angoche was not without the usual TIA (This Is Africa) moments. With a delayed flight out of Lisbon, a missed connection in Maputo that generated a 12 hour wait for the next available flight, delayed baggage that decided to arrive more than one week late (“I’ll see you when you get there…..” is what I now say to my suitcase when departing for Africa) and of course some of the contents going for a walk, it was all “par for the course”.

Waiting in Nampula for our baggage gave us time to re-adjust to the African tempo , catch up with our Wycliffe friends and buy some essentials for our time in Angoche. With little recent rain Nampula was as busy and dusty as ever. Works to the main roundabout were still underway (they started in 2008 and it really isn’t that big!) but the road down to Angoche proved to be in good condition. Leaving early morning the 3 hour drive delivered us straight into a 9.00am leaders meeting where we received a warm welcome and reviewed progress on a number of the projects we worked on during 2008/9. The agricultural project had delivered a harvest of 12 tonnes providing food for so many needy families, the fishing boat was receiving its last lick of paint prior to being launched and two tailors were working on the veranda producing school clothing for sale in the local community. Aspirations exist for a new a larger training centre, owned by TYH rather than renting the existing building. Plans were discussed for sending a team to start a similar work amongst the Mwani, another similar people group 10 hours north of Angoche. Oh and the Nissan backie is “very tired”.

We were able to provide a new mini-computer, flat screen and keyboard (which wasn’t stolen from our baggage) and help with final plans for the Youth Conference attended by about 200 young people from the Angoche region. Andrew van Renen made a last minute decision to join us, collecting his visa from the High Commission in London just hours before his flight. His contribution and friendship were invaluable and he clearly enjoyed being back in his Africa.

We loved reconnecting with friends and delighted in the familiar smiles and warm greetings. Some of the predicaments remain the same and simple solutions can provide meaningful answers such as new tyres and inner tubes for Rosa’s disabled tri-cycle or two new footballs for youth on the islands. Some longer term plans were identified such as raising funds for further education of 3 Koti young men and providing replacement housing for single parent families without available income to repair their existing huts. In other instances our presence and words brought much appreciated encouragement and inspiration.   (Yes, they are easily encouraged and inspired….)

A worthwhile and successful visit – definitely yes, but full of such contrast. A widow weeping at the loss of her husband the day before in a motor-bike accident. The smile on Rebekah’s face as we gave her a Wayne Rooney football shirt for her younger brother.  A group of fragile vulnerable island people crouched on the pavement outside the bakers hoping for some help. The generosity and gratitude of island folk sending us on our way with the gift of fresh coconuts.

Can we make sense of all of this – probably not! Can we make a difference of course yes! Is it all too big and are we too small – need I answer? But we all have the amazing strength of a loving God to call upon and know that of those who have received much, much is expected………

As ever in this part of the world we were challenged by the size of the needs presented by so many.  So we will no doubt be bringing further needs to you in the near future, but for the time being we are focusing on the education of several of the young lads – Kabila, Chale and José.  The 3 of them finished their secondary education at the end of last year and since then they have been helping Inaçio and Pimo in all manner of ways with the running of the community of faith.  However, what they really want to do is to attend and complete some further education in the hope of getting jobs and earning an income.  Again, something that we pretty much take for granted for our children – even with university fees set to rise etc, etc.  Kabila and Chale want to do a one-year course that will set them up to be teachers.  (We saw Chale teach the young children at the madrasa the guys are running on the last morning we were in Angoche and were really impressed).  One year is sufficient we understand, and then they will start in a school at the very bottom and hopefully work their way up.  José has set his sights on a 3 ½ year course in electrical engineering. They all hope to be able to study in Nampula and return back to visit their families and friends in TYH once a month.  It will be quite a big cost for TYH to release them – they more or less run the Cidade meeting every Sunday, help with the madrasa, help with the Saturday children’s meeting, are part of the teams that go out every week to take the good news to new places, and are most likely to be the future leadership of TYH!  The understanding is that they will come back when they have finished…….

Unless their parents are abnormally well off, further education is not an option for most children when they leave school.  That is of course if they manage to finish secondary school, which many – particularly girls – do not.  It’s hard not to compare the prospects for these young lads with our young people over here – government spending cuts, credit crunch, university fees etc taken into consideration, our children are hugely better off and these lovely guys don’t really stand a chance without some outside help.  As I walked and prayed around Angoche I was often overwhelmed by the question “what is the future of a place like Angoche and what is the hope for its people?”  And of course my faith does have an answer for that question.  But the inequality of life and a gospel that touches all aspects of human need, call for a response from me.  Hence we will be funding at least one year for one of the lads.  I invite you to join us in that response if you would like to but appreciate there is a huge amount of need that calls to us from near and far.

We will need to support the lads with more or less everything – not just fees, registration and books, but also food, accommodation and transport.  Their only means of income currently is the “subsidio” (small gift from TYH) because of the work they do for the community of faith.  Once they move up to Nampula they will no longer receive this.  The process begins in November when they will take a small test to see if they will be accepted onto the course.  Presuming they are successful they will then have to pay a registration fee.  We have already covered this for the 3 of them – it was about £180 each.

From here they will need a one off payment of about 20,000 metecais – £360 for the fees, and then monthly costs totalling about £110 for accommodation for the year, and about £450 for food and transport.  This adds up to about £920 but I think realistically we’d like to give them about £1,000 each as we found the cost of living going up almost visibly in front of our eyes when we were there.  Chale and Kabila should be there for one year only, but José’s course is 3 ½ years.

If you would like any more details, please do contact us, but in the meantime I will leave you with a picture of these fantastic lads.  From left to right José, Alito, Chale and Kabila – on the night we passed on the football shirts you gave.  (Alito is Kabila’s younger brother who is just finishing his penultimate year of school).

(not a monkey?)

Today I saw for the first time in Angoche in the wild, two small monkeys who paused in their business to carefully observe us as we walked along the path to Thamole.  The white hair on their heads and beards makes them look like two prematurely aged old men exchanging views upon the events of the day.  The tide is out and the elevated mud path between mud flats and mango groves gives us a good view of the small crabs which scuttle towards their homes seeking to avoid undue attention during their hectic activities.  It is mid-day and the sun-baked path makes for uncomfortable walking.  After a 20 minute walk we emerge at the boat passenger shelter which provides a suitable sleeping spot for two Koti youths.  Now we were able to see Thamole lying in a low and lazy aspect across a zig-zag of sand flats.  Two small white Ibis drift across the bright blue sky as we seek to negotiate a dignified embarkation onto a small wooden vessel.  Our boatman is muscled like an Olympic sprinter and pushes the boat off with an indolent ease which belies his physical strength.  As his punting pole slides through his hands and I considered how different this is to the River Kennet in Oxford.  The water is deep but the distance is short.  Our boatman gestures towards his cloth purse strung around his neck and we each pay our 2 Meticais (about 5 pence) for the short estuary crossing.  There follows a walk between coconut palms and prickly pear cactus and after another 20 minutes we arrive somewhat hot and sticky at the scattered village.

A Thamole boat bus

Low huts made from mud, sticks and palm foliage provide minimal shelter to a community of 2,500 people.  After resting on the ubiquitous white plastic garden chair in the shade provided by the eaves of one of these huts we find ourselves gradually surrounded by friends.  I love playing simple games with the children, drawing in the sand with a spine from a coconut palm.  They attentively watch every move and imitate each word or action with laughter in their eyes and just rags on their bodies.  Our friend Victor then leads us through the sand with clutches of small children attached to our hands, competing for a suitable finger or thumb to be grasped with glue like determination.  Our house calls require the employment of our limited Koti language and derive disproportionate smiles.  Most homes are small and lurk low, often taking Tower of Pisa attitudes and providing tenuous shelter for sleeping and cooking.  In the hot sun these homes provide a modicum of relief for the typically large families, but in the wind and the rain they must provide little relief from the elements.  A large block primary school squats in the sand providing a base for 12 teachers and hundreds of children.

During a short meeting in what is called “the house of prayer” men, children and mothers group themselves separately singing with gusto but at times limited tuning!  We engage them in a short drama telling the story of an angry king, three well dressed men, an angel and an incredibly hot fire. Our chosen king finds it much easier to smile rather than look furious and his attempts at the latter evoke much amusement.  Our meeting is about to finish but one of the island ladies interrupts, asking for an opportunity to speak.  My heart sinks a little, is this a complaint or another request?  But no, I know the Koti word “kashakurela” means “thank you” and heartfelt gratitude is being expressed for the agricultural project supported by finances from the UK.  Humbled I go over and look into her dark brown eyes, thanking her for the expressed appreciations.

Here's looking at you kids!

Upon our return we decide to walk along the beautiful beach and are surprised by a nimble group of white and pink flamingos, which tip-toe along the foreshore.  Some look like tall well-to-do gentlemen with prominent noses, whilst others look like nervy and unsteady children.

The tide is now in and the narrow estuary has become a wide expanse of choppy water.  Our boatman is just off-loading passengers on the far-side so we lay in the sand, chatting with each other and watching a soft-red sun quickly descend behind the tree-lined horizon. Our boatman collects us from the beach and strings an oar against a small pillar on the side of the boat to provide some purchase.  A young assistant wields a very long pole and we meander back towards Angoche.  It is now a beautiful warm evening and as we walk back along the muddy peninsular path we reflect upon the days experiences.

How grateful we are for the home comforts which we so often take for granted – shelter, food and water.

How much enthusiasm these Koti children have to learn, and how friendly they are toward adults.

How humbled and bemused we are by the inadequacies and inequalities of our world.

How much we want to make a difference by being friends to these people.

How privileged we feel to have been given the opportunity to be a small part of these people’s lives.

How tomorrow will be another day, but what will it bring? More of the same or maybe something different?

We are very pleased to announce that Andrew van Renen is joining us on our trip to Angoche in a couple of weeks time.  Andrew and his wife Jane were an amazing support to us when we lived out there – Jane being our “advocate” back home, planning prayer meetings, helping with bits and pieces we couldn’t do  and lots of other things.  We are so pleased that Andrew can come with us.

Yes we are going back to visit our Koti friends in Angoche! We arrive in Mozambique on 17th September and will be staying for 2 weeks. We’ll be catching up with old friends, looking at progress on some of the projects, particiapting in a youth conference and meeting together with various leadership groups.

So if you’d like to know more about this next Koti Journey – or maybe would even like to join us then drop us a line.

On:          SATURDAY 6TH MARCH at 7.30 pm

Where:   Dedworth Hall, Dedworth Road, Windsor

Come along to an evening when you’ll here about Julian and Annie’s Koti Journey

For more info email  julian@bullens365.co.uk

Sorry for the late notice – this has only relatively recently been confirmed, but the congregation that we are a part of in Maidenhead has asked if we would share some of our experiences and story regarding our time in Mozambique this coming Sunday – the 24th.

If you are interested in hearing about some of the journey, you would be really welcome.  The venue is Desborough School,  Shoppenhangers Road, Maidenhead, SL6 2QB, at 10.30am.  We realise this is not possible for those who are “further flung”, particularly with the short notice, but we will be doing an event specifically dedicated to feeding back from our time  – possibly in February if we can get our act together.  We’ll advise you as soon as we get the date confirmed and promise to try not to bore you with too many pictures !!

We continue to be in touch with the guys in Angoche but probably not as much as we would like.  As ever “life” goes on there and we were very sad to hear recently that Pai Victor’s son, who was helping to manage the Machamba Project, had died, plus his wife’s sister, leaving 7 children. So please continue to pray for these folk – and if we see you on Sunday wonderful!

With love to all

Last time…

The last time of doing something always has a certain poignancy about it, because the senses are on high alert status and what was mundane and routine suddenly becomes the ultimate. Also when returning to territory visited many months ago the homecoming often sends somewhat incomprehensible signals to the brain about the last time we saw family and friends such as “how have they become so fat?”

First our farewells to Angoche

So our last Sunday in Angoche is memorable and moving. In the morning we have the opportunity to speak at a meeting in the Cidade venue joining with a crowd of young people who worship with enthusiasm and dance with diligence and fervour, accompanied by a well worn single thumping drum. We take time to thank those who had not only made life easier for us but had also become our friends in the process. I speak about the need for generosity in the face of poverty and that it is an agent for transformation. We have seen this first hand where couples have generously given themselves exclusively to one another and have created contented families. Mothers and children are no longer abandoned by the peripatetic male who continually moves on to another partner, stays for a while to father more children and then moves on again.

This family of faith lives up to its name and we finish by praying for other tribes in Mozambique culturally similar to the Koti such as the Mwani. We gratefully accept the energy filled prayers which sent us on our way.

Time in Tamole

At 2pm in the afternoon we take the long and rather hot path to Tamole, wade across the tidal estuary and squidge  across the soggy sand banks.  We then clamber into the pole driven boat for a short ride across the remaining inlet. The walk to our friends’ homes takes us under palm trees, past dilapidated mosques designated by ceremonial washing troughs. On the way we pass people playing draughts on ragged boards using well worn aluminium discs as counters, some children enjoying the fun of a swing strung up between two palm trees and others dozing and chatting together on palm leaf mats. Due to our unusual colouring we become the focus for stares which change to broad smiles and rapid Koti as we offer our “macheliwah” good afternoon greeting. Our attempts at the Koti language evoke friendly amusement and appreciation. As we cross the flat sandy (and in places slightly spongy) football pitch a few small skinny children clad in ragged clothes run to greet us and then grip our hands as we walk into the settlement of small huts which is home to many of our friends.

Annie and some of the Tamole children

Victor’s house now offers a sports channel TV watching service and his main living space is crowded with a group watching athletics, with a couple of guys peering in through the window. We wait outside for a short while for Victor himself to arrive and spend the time sitting and chatting with children and parents. A meeting follows that produces some heart-felt thanks expressed by our Tamole friends. These include suggestions that we should stay for two years, as one year had been good but…….! Two striking things stand out from this time. The first, Bartholomew saying thanks for our prayers which have resulted in him regaining his eyesight. These thanks are expressed with him looking straight at me and beaming – extremely humbling but also wonderful. The second thing – a lady who was so delighted at the help we had given to make it possible to have a Machamba. (The Machamba is a plot to grow vegetables along with 29 other families from Tarikhi ya Haakhi about 55 km from Angoche).

Doing the washing

It’s now Tuesday and we meet with the Conshelho Central (Central Team), wives and some of the youth for a celebration meal and some final farewells. It’s a wonderful time being able to express our gratitude and appreciation to such an amazing group who carry leadership responsibility for nearly 5,000 Followers of Jesus. A number take the opportunity to express their thanks and kindly speak in Portuguese so we can follow what they were saying! It’s interesting to note the things they highlight – such as the Machamba, emergency famine relief, the Luke bible workshops asking questions rather than preaching at them, English lessons, fishing and sewing businesses and help with housing. The most encouraging is the thanks from the team leader Victor who emphasises that we have servant hearts. A letter of thanks has been prepared for River Church leadership and is read out by one of my best friends Pimo with due aplomb.

The very best bit follows. We have been having major problems with water supply in Angoche. Water pumps which extract a supply from three boreholes have broken down, so 65,000 people have a trickle of water for 30 minutes a day. Annie and I had independently thought it would be good to wash our friends’ feet, so brought along soap, basins, towels and some water. To the water we brought they add their own large tub. As we kneel down to start foot washing the power goes out, so we continue by candle-light. We wash feet couple by couple, then do the youth and finish with a sprinkling of children. As we finish the power comes back on and Victor and his wife sit us down and wash our feet.  Upon reflection we think there are at least a couple of metaphors from this – firstly we contributed the little that we had and they added what they had which was so much more, and made the whole thing possible. Secondly we think that as we washed the feet of couples committed to each other in marriage and then young people who often are treated as second class and then the children who may be ignored, God broke something and the power went off. An old power was being broken and a new simpler power (the candlelight) bathed us in a soft light as we shared the experience in joy and humility.

Our favourite beach - Tamole

On our way

So the journey back to England starts in the worthy Landrover and it certainly doesn’t seem like a year since we stopped and took photos of our arrival. The road back to Nampula is the best it’s ever been and only takes 3 hours. We are accompanied by Kabila and Jose and after unloading useful kit like a large water butt and a gas ring at the Wycliffe base we say a tearful goodbye to our young friends. A delightful evening meal with new found friends John and Sue Iseminger provides a cocktail of great advice, good food and continuing appreciation and admiration for the work of Wycliffe in Mozambique. The following morning our flight from Nampula lasts another 3 hours and we return to our favourite hotel in Maputo, which stands on a bluff overlooking the city centre and the sea. Time is taken to meet the new director of Samaritans Purse, Craig Whitlock and his amazing family. It’s our first meeting but we all think this could be the start of a valuable relationship. Saturday is spent dipping into the street market and enjoying a long walk around town. The next day we fly to Nairobi, stay overnight in an enormous hotel that is trapped in the 80’s with shiny gold chrome everywhere, and so with some relief we check our bags in to take our Virgin flight back to Heathrow. The pilot puts his foot on the gas (or is it his hand on the throttle) and our early arrival at Terminal 3 foxes family and friends alike!

Back in the UK

We arrive back to a country without a sun which gets progressively colder, climaxing with a large dose of snow and a continuing freeze which instigates travel chaos. Eurotunnel grinds to a halt and our daughter Kathy and her partner Greg get trapped in Brussels (no not the sprouts, the city – can you imagine being trapped in brussel sprouts?) But before all this fun we’ve been able to travel down to Cardiff to see their new house, celebrate Sam’s engagement to the lovely Lizzie at the Welsh National Opera House in Cardiff Bay and of course enjoy catching up with Hannah and Chris who both share our home in Maidenhead.

Sam and Lizzie

We’ve also enjoyed the company of Isaac, our residual tenant who’s with us until 23^rd December before returning home to Nigeria. So we return to Christmas hype, frozen footpaths, log fires, family and friends all of which are novel experiences and require some acclimatisation. The most popular FAQ “So what will you do next?” and the answer……….. well it’s a lot of things I suppose.

First of all it’s catching up properly with family and friends, doing some running repairs on the house,  and then on 11^th Jan we go to Geneva for a week of re-entry debriefing. We hope this will help us deal with the enormous contrasts between Mozambique and Maidenhead. I then start back at work on a part-time basis and Annie is likely to be looking for some employment.

During the year we plan to re-visit Angoche, so if you’d like to come start practising Portuguese! Sam and Lizzie get married in Loughborough on 7^th August and at some stage we want to fit in a family holiday.

So we’d like to take this opportunity to pass on a big THANKYOU to all our friends who have been travelling this Koti Journey with us. Your continued support and prayers make an amazing difference! Latest news from Angoche is a mixture as always of pain and joy – rain is still awaited and climate change seems to be having an adverse effect on this fragile community. This means that planting cannot progress and that famine is likely to knock on the door in February of next year. On a positive note the first ever leaders conference and celebration was held during Ide in Angoche with nearly 400 participants from the Angoche District. More marriage ceremonies have occurred and the occasional text brings the latest snippets of news.

An invitation

So our request is that you continue to accompany us on this Koti Journey. We’ll continue with the blog and keep you posted regarding latest news, telling more of the stories about the amazing Koti people and those who seek to serve them to facilitate transformation. The next update will include some profiles of individual Koti people – their stories make interesting reading!

Julian writes: -

We are under ant attack.  A convoy of little soldiers marches along the lip of our rusty enamel bath intent upon a destination which will provide some moisture.  But the bathroom is really for them a secondary diversion, if not a tertiary, or whatever comes after that.  Any room will do but the primary target is definitely our dining table.  On previous occasion they feasted upon Ian Linton’s legs, but now they seem determined to run around in a demented manner, hoping to hide under anything that’s placed on the table, especially if there’s any moisture available.  So lift up your glass of juice and a small platoon of ants scatters, rest your arms on the table and our ticklish friends make human exploration their objective.  We seek to repel all borders with the arsenal of weapons available to us.  These are about as much use as the football team with the same name.  (Cheap shot – excuse the pun and apologies to Sam and Andy) We can’t remember the last time it rained, maybe about 3 months ago, and the sandy dust is whipped up by a north wind reminiscent of a well performing sauna.  So the battle with the mad insects is lost and they appear on every surface known to man.  Our only solution?  Beat a retreat to wintry England, where hoping for rain will not need to be high on the agenda.

We return to our “home” in mid-November grateful for so much, understanding so little but with changed hearts.  Massive thanks are due to all of you who have accompanied us on our journey, be it on the blog, or here in beautiful but devastating Angoche.  We could list the projects undertaken and what has been accomplished and think it would impress, but we haven’t been on this journey to make an impression.  Our gratitude for the funds sent, the prayers sent, the people sent, must be recorded here.  However, we can’t stop and say “we’ve arrived, we’ve done what we needed to do”.  We are grateful too for our lack of understanding which is enlightening.  Can we be confident as we nestle into our vulnerabilities?  Can we embrace our uneasiness and discomfort? Can we learn how not to accept the unacceptable?  Can we tell other people how they should live?  We invite you to explore these questions with us, but as we said before, don’t look for answers, but rather responses.

Our challenge – how do we continue a journey, not returning to the path of the very same point we left it at.  Your challenge maybe is the same as ours – not so much where is your journey taking you, but more significantly who is your journey about?

When we arrive we’ll try and unfold some of this stuff with friends and family.  We’ll undoubtedly be asked “Did you have a nice time in Angoche?”  Maybe some obscure answers like “the ants won” will be the best response.

Final words?  Thanks to Annie for more than surviving with me for the last 15 months.  I’ve taken you to some awful places, but you’ve done much more than endure.  Your prayers sown into the sand of the Koti people have born a fruit beyond measure.  You must be mad – thank goodness.

Annie - arrival

500 bags of food (funded by River)

Annie writes:

So how do you sum up so much in a few brief words?  Julian has documented much of our journey here, but I wanted to add my thoughts – perhaps not quite so eloquently, but I’ll give it a go.

I have had to share my testimony (in English and Portuguese) quite a few times over the last 18 months or so, in answer to the question “what are you doing and why are you doing it?”  It has become perhaps a bit of a cliché but I believe the truth is that my story is not just an “Annie-story” but a “God-story” and there is more to come.  I have been able to do some amazing things not because I am amazing – pretty ordinary in fact – but because God is amazing.  And to add to this, I can now say we have met some amazing people here too.  The truth is the same for them – because God found them and has led them on a journey too.  They are pretty remarkable and we both have the utmost admiration for them.  There is no doubt that life is very tough for them here.  If you have read just the odd snippet of this blog you will know what everyday life means for them and what a challenge it is just to survive from day to day. Of course they don’t know what it is like to live in the affluent West, so comparison is neither necessary nor helpful.  This is their “normality”, as your life is for you.  But in this “normality” of real poverty, through being with these great people, we have had a deep richness added to our lives.

We are not entirely clear what we will do with the blog as it is so connected to this part of our journey with the Koti.  We are planning a trip back to Moz next year and our friendships here will continue to draw us to Angoche in the future – even though it appears to be one of the most difficult places to get to on the planet!  If any of you want to join us on that trip, please get in touch.  Who knows?  It could be that in 2, 4, 6 years time, God is asking if you are prepared to come and walk with the Koti.

I think, I hope, we are changed people – but only time will tell how changed we are. The language is confusing but we know there is no way we can “go back”.  We have moved on; others, including those who we are closest to, have moved on too and so at least for a short time our paths have diverged.  The result is we are now in different places.  So how do we physically “go back” to the UK whilst at the same time continue our journey with some sense of forward momentum?  That perhaps is the challenge, both for others to realise and for us to negotiate. Where is home now?  Following two years in Lesotho, we considered we had two homes – there and the UK.  On that basis we now have three.  But we do believe that there are other “places to go, people to see”, as is the old adage, so we doubt it will remain at that number.  How? Where? When? – These questions have yet to be answered.  Our desire is to be shaped by the future so we will hold things loosely as we arrive in Maidenhead shortly, not settling down to “business as usual” but with our focus on the journey forward and the route to it.

I hope this is not too much of a cliché as well, but there is no way we could have done what we have done without you walking with us, too.  Thank you, thank you, and thank you again.  The support we have received through prayer, finances, kindness, interest, visits, emails, phone calls, texts – and more – has been wonderful, overwhelming and reduced us to tears at times.   (Sometimes tears of laughter as well as the other sort!)  Memories? – we have lots of them which we will try not to bore you with too much.  Yes, sufficient photos to produce many “missionary slide shows” time and time again.  You have permission to say “stop!” to us when we have shown you our beautiful sunset shot for the nth time.

At the risk of sounding like an acceptance speech at the Oscars, just one more thank you. This goes to you: Kathy, Christopher, Samuel and Hannah.  Normally it’s the kids who leave home, not the parents.  We hope that some of what we have “invested” in Mozambique will be part of an inheritance amongst the nations of the world that you will connect with, and will benefit from in the future.

Tamoli chidren and maize meal

River crossing

Arrival at Quelelene

Woman at the well

Leaders

Annie with Linda Harding

Hannah and Julian

English language students

Football shirts

 

In the last year or so the simple task of getting a haircut has caused an unerring increase in the rapidity of my heartbeat. When letting someone loose on your mop without a good degree of fluency with their language you have to be pretty philosophical, the bottom line being “it will always grow again”.

Experiences in the last 15 months have included a haircut duet with Chris Jones in Maia shopping mall in Porto, where we thought going in pairs for safety was a good move. In what can only be described as an “express hairdressers” two black clad ladies swooped down, practiced their broken English on us whilst joking with each other in Portuguese and whizzed around with the scissors and clippers. The interesting finale was that they washed our hair afterwards and packed us off in about 15 minutes. Annie and Elaine had gone for a quiet coffee and were disappointed by our early return; I think they were still waiting for the coffees to cool to a drinkable temperature.

Typical Porto Street

A further Portuguese experience involved a very quiet traditional barbers shop on an old street in Porto. By this time 11 weeks of language study had lifted my language skills to almost staggering levels, as long as the conversation followed the pattern “Where do you live? How many children do you have? Why are you in Portugal?”  The young barber wore a classic white singlet with an assortment of suitable implements in the pockets and had greased hair on top of a swarthy thin face with “designer stubble”. The spectacle was watched by an old man in a brown coat who seemed to be there to sweep up the debris. So conversation was enjoined with the young barber repeating to the old man his interpretation of my broken Portuguese. He kindly kept to safe territory so my vocabulary was not embarrassed too much.  When the news broke that tomorrow I was off to Mozambique to try out my language skills on the Africans there was a short period of concerned conversation between my helpers. The barber did an extremely thorough job, removing hair with specialist implements from various orifices with little prior explanation apart from a brief gesture. I came away happy with the result, and pleased with my lengthy Portuguese conversational skills.

Next follows what I would describe as the Missionary Cut. We have some good friends who live close to Nelspruit which is the nearest South African town to Mozambique. Every 3 months we have had to leave Mozambique as we have 90 day multi-entry visas which are valid until December. So after a trip which involves 4 hours in the Landrover to Nampula, a flight down to Beira and then another further south to the capital Maputo we take a double-decker bus across the border on a 5 hour run to down-town Nelspruit. The border crossing is chaotic and confusing and it takes about an hour to get stamped out of Mozambique and stamped into South Africa. Our friend Cathy who works as a home delivery midwife and also works at the Africa School of Missions  picks us up and negotiates her way out of town through all the major roadworks, inspired by the forthcoming 2010 World Cup in South Africa. We arrive at the Mercy Air base where Cathy and her husband Paul live, driving down next to the air-strip to reach a cluster of hangers and houses perched on an outcrop set amongst a beautiful landscape.

Mercy air

Paul flies for Mercy Air and is also an outdoor pursuits expert and we first met them when we lived in Lesotho from 1994 to 96. Their son Matthew is the same age as our son Christopher and they soon became best mates at school.  Cathy used to cut my hair on the veranda of their house in Maseru and having enjoyed cooking in a black plastic dustbin liner I presented her with a pukka hair dressing cape. We’d always have a nice chat and it was a great way to catch up. So the trip to Mercy Air (or is that Mercy Hair?) had to involve the obligatory hair cut under the well travelled hair dressing cape. Comments about how my hair had changed in the last 12 years included “It’s gone quite grey hasn’t it?” and other observations using vocabulary like “receding”.  Anyway I’m very grateful for their friendship, willingness to poke fun at me, and their commitment to Africa serving in such a professional and caring manner.

Cathy and Paul

The last hairdressing experience and obviously most recent involves my first ever haircut by an African. Was this fool-hardy you may be asking yourself, as we are part of a community of 4 white people and have unusually straight hair (from an African perspective). The hairdressers’ is definitely a colonial hang over that looks very out of place in the regular Angoche context. It has two large barbers’ chairs, perched on chrome pedestals and upholstered in marbled red plastic. The foot rest is missing so it’s necessary to rest your feet on the obsolete projecting spokes. The cape comprises a small apron in a bright printed fabric, and the equipment a large pair of drapers’ scissors with tortoise-shell plastic handles, showing a certain amount of corrosion on the blades. My preferred option would have been the clippers but the skilled operator of this equipment has not shown up for the last 3 days, so my young hairdresser insists that the scissor look will look “bonita”.

The 'salon'

After being sprayed with water from an old window cleaning fluid bottle, a small white plastic comb is employed with the scissors to produce what can be described as a “single step effect”. This is achieved with a very slow “sniiiiiip” following a line just above the ears. Negotiation around the ears proves to be problematic with such a large pair of scissors and amusement turns to trepidation as my left ear suffers injury, only arrested by a yelp of pain. This is all taken in young Giselle’s stride as she produces cotton wool and bright orange Savlon antiseptic fluid to clean the wound, allowing me to assist by holding the bottle whilst she dabs away saying “sorri, sorri”. All of this might not seem too wayward, but there is another factor you have to be aware of.  The hairdressers’ has a large front window and is located in one of the busier streets of Angoche. The exceptional sight of a “branco” having his hair cut in the large chair close to the front window attracts undue interest in the populace. In quick succession three of my friends appear at the open door and seem to find the whole episode extremely entertaining. They exchange some concerned frowns and converse with Giselle in a certain degree of amusement. As the event draws to a close they kindly wait outside for a chat, and when it comes to pay I have to nip out to ask Pimo for some change to my 100 meticais note. As I shake off the redundant hair Giselle stands back to admire her handiwork waving her scissors and proclaims a satisfied “bonita”. My cap proves to be particularly useful today as I walk home for Annie’s verdict.

Giselle

So maybe you’d like to know how much these haircuts cost?

• Portuguese barbershop -  the best cut and cost £8 including all orifices
• Mercy Hair – a bottle of South African red wine, shared over dinner
• Giselle – 30 pence and a sore ear

Latest news! The local American Peace Corp have offered to come to the rescue. Our two friends Erin and Alexi have inspected the damage and the Iowa and Chicago Joint Venture are confident they can make some swift and adept modifications which will derive some improvement, so watch this space.

Bad haircut 1

Bad haircut 2