Graduation Day

I'm back in Seattle now for a short time before returning to Mozambique, but that doesn't mean there sill aren't stories to tell, and I've got plenty of them, so I figure I'll just keep on telling.

Making up stuff to write here has its own kind of flow to it. Sometimes inspirations strikes and I'll come up with three or four posts in a day. Other times, life drags on a little bit and there is just not much of note. Sometimes, like this time, stuff happens. After that stuff happens I immediately start thinking, "How can I let everybody know about all that in a way they won't fall asleep reading." Then I think about how many times I can break the fourth wall. Is there a fourth wall in writing? Or do things jump off the page. Or jump out of the screen. If you had one of those 3D computers they'd jump out of the page. I bet that spinning tag globe on the right would look pretty crazy in 3D.

Sometimes, there's just no way to tell what happened other than to start at the beginning and finish at the end. For some reason, everybody has decided this is the proper way to tell a story and so I'm going to give in to pressure and tell the story that way.
 
I recently went down to Beira as part of making my way out of the country. Beira is a good day's drive away. I took a bus that left at 1am and got in that night after it was dark. Actually, it was two buses. But the trip went smooth and it didn't break down in the middle of the jungle. Breaking down in the jungle is bad.

The point of the trip was to get out and visit some of our kids that are down there studying. Just a friendly visit to see how they're living and adjusting and getting along down in their new confines.

I know not everyone, or anyone, remembers that we have kids that have "graduated" from the orphanage. Every now you get reminders, like when I told you about the two boys that threw a dinner party for us one day. 'Dinner party' is probably not the best thing to say, but it was a party, and dinner was involved. So there. But for us still in Nampula, we are constantly reminded and constantly praying for them, so I had been looking forward to getting out and visiting them.

The ones that are down there this year have joined and are living with Lazaro, one of our kids who is studying at a university down there in his second year. They are all living together in a rented house. Gizela, who went down at the same time, is living in a dormitory at the vocational school. They're all studying things like refrigeration and air conditioning repair, auto mechanics, cooking, electricity.

It was just a trip to go down and see them and spend a few days visiting. I wasn't "being nosy" or "checking in on them", it was just a visit to see them and they were thrilled to have me. I spent the first day just telling them all that's new back at the orphanage and how everybody is doing. They were full of questions how everybody is doing and wanted to hear everything that has been going on back at the orphanage.

The second day they took me to see their trade school. They had just finished an exam day so they had a day off of lessons so I just got to see their classrooms, meet their instructors, see all their friends. And unlike a similar American experience they were thrilled to see me and wanted to show me everything and meet all their friends.

Some of the boys took me out around the town to look at some of the projects they had done as part of their training. Zaqueio showed me construction sites where he had installed the electrical box going in the office complex. Albertino showed me a bank of air-conditioners he tuned up and got in working order at a flour factory. They were all proud and couldn't stop telling me about all they've done and are learning.

The trip to visit our students was one of the most fulfilling and encouraging things I've gotten to do in my nearly two years so far in Mozambique. The boys (and girls) were truly thriving, learning well in their school, and appreciating and valuing the education they were receiving. They are participating in church as often as there is a chance to. They are valued in their neighborhood, which was initially skeptical of 7 young guys moving in to rent a house together, but soon realized that they are respectful, play great with kids, and are there to learn and to improve their live and not just fun and games (there are still plenty of fun and games though). Their once skeptical neighbors now thank them for watching their kids and providing protection, "because no thief would dare come here during the middle of the night knowing there are seven strong men right next door. A couple of the boys go down to a nearby orphanage when they have a weekend free to socialize and play with the kids there because they know how important things like that are.

Well, yesterday they graduated their job training program to much fanfare. Here are some pictures I got a hold of.

Here is (back) Albertino, Gracio, Isaty, (front) Zaqueio, and Lazaro. Albertino and Isaty finished their training in refrigeration and AC repair, and Zaqueio completed his in electricity installation and repair. Gracio and Lazaro have got a ways to go and are in year two of university. Albertino and Gracio are friends of our that we are helping/scholarshiping while the other boys are from the orphanage.

Here is Claudia (who went down to Beira last year to study), Lazaro, Gracio, Gizela, Isaty, and Zaqueio. Gizela studied culinary and was full of stories of all the things she's learned to cook and all the work she's done. The director of the dormitory at the school also sought me out when I was there to praise here and tell me how she has such a great character and is a pleasure to have in the dorm. I didn't get sent a picture with Gabriel, the last boy we sent down, but his mechanics course is a full year and won't finish till December.

Perhaps one of the most encouraging moments of my trip was getting to really hear from the heart of our kids there how much they've grown up in such a short time and how much they value what they are learning. As I talked to them, it was clear how hard they are working. Isaty was particularly emotional, tearing up as he told me, "My whole life I never understood school. But here, I'm working with my hand, getting the best marks in my class, and enjoying it so much. This is exactly what I want to do in my life."

As the ones that graduated Young Africa Trade School get ready to move on, keep praying for their hunt for jobs and apprenticeships. The climate for work is extremely challenging, but they are all going to work hard to find opportunities, so pray with us that God rewards their efforts and blesses their knowledge and that they would find stable and healthy jobs.

Announcing TJ's 2012 Book Signing Tour!

It's been a while since I've been able to put up anything but that's because of all the travel I've been doing recently. I'm going to have more on that later. But for now, I'll just get out the most pressing information I'm sure many of you are excited to hear.

I'm gonna be back in Seattle for a couple months to visit and take a holiday. I'll be in June 26th and have till mid-August to visit until I return to Mozambique and continue the work God has there.

In order to help you understand all the details, I've prepared a list of common questions you are likely to have. This allows both me and you to get the most out of my trip and have a super awesome fun time.

1. Where can I buy your book for the tour?
While I am calling it the 2012 TJ's Book Signing Tour, I feel I should let you know (full disclosure here) that I don't actually have a book. However, if you have a book that you'd like me to sign feel free to give me a copy of Huck Finn or Little Women and I'll put my John Hancock all over it. (paperbacks not accepted. Don't be cheap.)

2. So there's no book?
No.

3. What's the purpose of the trip?
I've been gone for almost two years. It has been been a great time, but pretty long. I'm coming back for a visit to see my family, friends, all you folks that I love and miss dearly. I also am taking time recharge my batteries and tell people about God's work in Mozambique.

4. Should I wait a little bit before contacting you so you can rest from travel and see important people right away?
Don't be silly. You're plenty important to me. Yes you, reading this right now. And I've been in the US traveling for a couple days now, so I'm rested and over jet lag. I'm only getting into Seattle on June 26th, so that's why I'm letting you all know now.

5. How can I get in touch with you?
As always, email or facebook are reliable. I also picked up a cell phone number to use for these next few weeks. My digits are 206-504-6403. Don't worry about privacy of me posting it on the interweb because the number is temporary and will expire in a couple months anyways. But do however tell me who you are when you call because things could get really awkward me trying to hold a conversation just guessing who you are the whole time.

6. Are you available to talk to my [church, bible study, small group, family, nursing home, daycare, golf buddies, captive audience] about your life and ministry at the orphanage?
As a matter of fact, I'm extremely available and would love nothing more than to do exactly that!

7. What if I just want to hang out and catch up or have a meal together or catch a Mariners game?
Heck yes! Just give me a call.

Train Wrecks and Home Wrecks

This post has taken about five different directions since I started writing it. It was first about awkwardness in church. Then it turned into awkwardness in church weddings. Then it was going to be about polygamy. Then it was gonna be ALL about South African President Jacob Zuma after he got married to his fourth wife last month. Then it was going to be about cattle. Then it came full circle back to awkwardness in church. This post is all of those things. This is usually how my trains of thought end up. A thought-train wreck. And not just any train wreck, but the kind of train wreck that is reported with headlines like “74 souls lost as train derails” with the caption below reading “Conductor: 'Yep, I was pretty drunk.' ”

This post is all of those things without being any of those things, o lets just start. About two months ago there was a new girl that started coming to church. She is a teacher at the elementary school here. After a couple of weeks she got up to introduce herself formally to everyone and face the notoriously awkward and dry humor of our lead elder, who's name is Mostafa. Yes, you are allowed to think he has an awesome name.

When he rolled around to the question of whether or not she was married and how many kids she has, the response was almost as much as a ramble as one of my posts. She said something along the lines of, “I'm married and... well...not married married, you know, but I'm with somebody, going on about two years now and, you know, I grew up in the church and I'm not a bad person and have been wanting to go to church with him but he goes to this catholic church on the other street corner and has never invited me to come along even though I asks him all the time.” I think, because near the end her answer got a little unintelligible as she got emotional and started choking up.

You don't need to understand the difference between marriage here and wherever you are to understand this response. What you need to understand is the difference between cohabitation here and there.

In America, while many people view cohabitating as a stage before marriage, it might as well not be there. Statistically the chance of you sticking it out without getting divorced are the same or worse that if you hadn't cohabitated to begin with, meaning there is no advantage or difference from your “free trail” period. It isn't something that “leads to marriage” since this marriage is just as likely fail. It's like saying brushing your teeth before going on a date leads to marriage. It helps on the date, sure, but 10 years from now there's probably not a lot of difference for divorce rates of people that brush their teeth with those that don't.

Marriage is kind of a tricky institution to define around here, but it's easier to see it as an evolution in cohabitating. That's not to say that it is seen as a “next step” or “practice for marriage” or “tryouts”. It's not even necessary for survival or anything. It's more of just the only thing there is. Such a small portion of people ever get officially married to one another.

But even the prevalence of traditional cultural marriage is hard to define. In the most basic of cases, you have your family sit down and present your potential spouse. They learn about you, and you get to know where your mother-in-law lives, and then maybe there's dinner to celebrate. More involved occasions involve sitting both families down together to vet the other. However if distance is a problem, that doesn't always happen.

Anyways, like in the case of our teacher, they live together, have a kid together, share their life as husband as wife. But on Sunday's they are at separate churches, and who knows what other aspects of their lives are not integrated. Many even neglect using the term husband or wife, introducing and referring to their spouses as “Billy's father” or “Lucy's mother” and not as their husband or wife. Who knows if this is the way it's always been done because of a lack of a concrete definition of marriage, or because Billy's dad has sowed crops in a couple different fields if you know what I mean?

The reasons for people taking in with somebody are many. Most of the time it's good old fashioned mutual attraction. Meaning the baby they made together mutually attracts the two parents into one life. (Remember that most recent stats show 50% of girls under 18 are pregnant or already have a kid). Many people get pregnant through their boyfriend and then decide it's time to move in. That's great if you're moving in with somebody that has their own house. Or a job. Or land. Many other times its just continuing on with your parents and then having and raising the kids there. Maybe someday they'll move in together if he gets work, or she could take up with somebody else that has work.

At some point, probably once you have another kid or two to cement the relationship, you refer to them as your wife or your husband. There's no set in stone point, and using church marriages as a reference can't be done because they are so few and far between.

Another example is the a young man that recently came back two our church. He used to be the leader of the youth group, and then moves to a town about four aways away for a job. He came back after two years, with a wife. A very young wife. The first Sunday he was back in church, our hilarious, awkward elder Mostafa asked him (in front of the whole congregation) if he was married. After thinking for a minute, he said, “I'm not sure how to respond to that question.” Ummmm.....

The next week, near the end of church during announcements (which take longer the the rest of the service combined) Mostafa asked again if he was married. He walked up to the front of the church with his very young wife and said to everyone, “This is my answer.” Mostafa then started referring to her as Mrs. Answer. When Mostafa asked our old youth leader if she was his wife he avoid the question one more time, answering, “She is the person that helps me get my water.”

That's cultural euphemism for no, not really, but we live together.

That's not to say that marriage is a hollow institution here. I just want to say that many times the purpose of marriage is different than what you may thing of a happy, healthy marriage. (It's estimated that anywhere between one-in-eight to one-in-five people are HIV+, which means at the very least that conjugal bliss is not seen as part of the equation for marriage requirements. And based on some estimates saying that as many as 75% of adults have an STD in Nampula it's a fair guess to say that fidelity is not a highly-valued component of marriage.)

Happy Birthday To My Mom

Happy birthday mom. As people get older I think birthdays are kind of less important, unless you get to a milestone. And guess what... MILESTONE!!! Party time. I didn't get my invite but I haven't checked the mail in a couple of weeks so maybe it's sitting in the box, but if I wasn't invited that's cool. (True story: I was not invited to my parent's 25th anniversary party. No joke. But it's really just because my brothers planned it all and each assumed the other had invited me. Seriously. There's not a hint of acrimony in our family.)

But back to you, mom. I have no idea why I told you that anniversary bit. You already knew that.

As the years go on I have learned to appreciate all the things you have done for me. I have also become aware of all the things I have done to you. There have been lots of moments where I've thought, “Look at that kid. Surely I would never have been like that when I was growi---OH MY GOSH I used to be exactly like that. What a horrible kid I was.”

Except you've told me many times that I wasn't a horrible kid. In fact you've told many times that I'm your favorite (which would really suck to find out that you said the same thing to my brothers in an effort to exact good behavior out of us). While I know I was not a horrible kid, I've found out I was a kid that liked to eat.

Alas, I know it's not just me but my brothers as well. We all have the same condition: we're huge. All over 6ft. And as a big, strong, handsome boy---in order to turn in to a big, strong, handsomer man---I required food. Lots of food. Most of the time, that food was yours.

That's not to say that it was you that worked hard for our food and we ate it. I mean that it literally was the food you had prepared for yourself or put on your plate. I can still hear your voice ringing out.”Who ate my sandwich? Where did my pop go? I was gonna finish those chips. I hadn't even put milk in my cereal yet. I leave the table for three minutes to go to the bathroom and the casserole 'must've disappeared'?”

I have also realized that there is an age barrier for when this practice become acceptable. When a small kid come up and asks for a bite of my sandwich or a wedge of orange or a sip of my tea or a cookie, I'll usually oblige. But then at some point it usually hits me. I'll think to myself, “Man, I really was looking forward to that cookie, somehow eating half of it just isn't as satisfying. But oh well, they're only 6 or 8 years old, they could use a cookie.”

As the childing asking to share in snacks increases in age, so usually does the quantity they find an acceptable sharing portion. Somebody in your house studying? Break out an orange. Offer a quarter if to them. See the look in their eyes that says, “Thanks, but ummm.... this is so small that if I eat it I'm just gonna be unsatisfied. And then the hunger takes control. Then things are gonna get ugly” Next thing you know most the orange is gone.

There's also the numbers side to it. If you give a kid a snack, four more are going to pop out of the woodwork. If there's a group of kids in my house playing games and I pass around a plate of cookies, the cookies don't even make it halfway around the room before disappearing.

The big revelation is that the food, even when it is mine, has ceased to become mine and has become “ours”. Unless I run inside my house, shut the door and draw the blinds, food is “ours”. It's not technically ours, it's mine. I can say no, but as soon as one kid gets part of a pineapple, there are six more kids that want part of my pineapple.

And so I guess that take-away is happy birthday, mom. And be thankful I'm not there to steal your birthday cake.

In Which We Break Things

Things break in Nampula and they break a frequently. Sometimes spectacularly. Rains come and houses get destroyed, trees get uprooted and roads washed out. The electricity surges and light bulbs pop and electronics start smoking. Cars drive---or I should say people drive the cars---and hit other cars.

Most consumer goods sold here in Mozambique are third rate goods meant for the third world. When a factory is Malaysia spins cotton, the low-grade stuff gets sent here for clothes and fabric. When Vietnam exports rice, the rice full of chaff gets sent to Africa. Do you buy rice? When was the last time you had to sift through your food before cooking it. When I buy Chinese light bulbs, it's customary to plug them in at the store before making the purchase because, by a rough count, about one-in-five don't work right out of the box.

Victor bought plastic lawn chairs for his house last week. Brand new. The very first evening I was sitting right next to him when all of a sudden a chair leg broke and gave way right from under him. He fell hard to the ground. The chair just plain sucked (ed. note: removed comment about Victor's expanding waistline).

Take the street lights here for example. It's pretty well known that a street light should come on at night and go off during the day. Not here. It's very normal to see street lights on for days at a time and then decide to go off during the middle of the night. It's also not uncommon for the street lights to stay off for days at a time. It's just one of the quirks. If there was an easy fix to it (maybe putting all the lights on master switch and have a guy turn them on and off) I'm sure they'd have done it by now.

Another thing is traffic lights. There are only about 15 traffic lights in the whole city. One of them I've never seen work. Others don't quite work all the time. There's one stoplight we pass going in to town. For the longest time it would only change after about 3.5 minutes. I timed it. (Sometimes there is NOTHING to do here.)

Recently, it's been sped up so much that only about three cars can get through before it changes. Oh, and also the yellow stopped working. It goes red the same time the other one turns green and there are no yellows. Motorists have learned to pretty much ignore the stoplight altogether.

Maybe my favorite example of things breaking recently was a radio station last week. The entire station got stuck on a commercial break playing the same 7 straight commercials for THREE WHOLE DAYS. It just looped all seven over and over. There was one day that a whole bunch a kids wanted to hear it because they heard, “it was going change soon and start playing new advertisements.” I compulsively tuned past it about every 15 minutes just to see when it would change.

Sometime Monday evening it finally started playing music. And not just any music. It was playing late 80's British rock. Specifically, it was playing what I later learned was “Shine On” by The House of Love, a British indie rock band from the last. While I not expecting that song (the station usually plays pop/dance music), I was definitely not expecting for the station to play the rest of their self-titled 1989 album.

Since that day, going on almost another week at last check, not only has the station started playing music, it's been dubbing itself. This means that either there is another station playing on the same frequency and the radio picks up both songs, or the single station has figured out how to play two songs at the same time. It's unlistenable.