The story of the eagle

I was living in birder’s paradise the past three days. For MCC Mozambique’s annual retreat, we went to a game park in Manica province, near Gorongoza National Park. The game park supports herds of Impala, Kudu, other antelope, a few buffalo, warthogs, monkeys, baboons, some lions, and the occasional herd of elephants. The game park normally entertains hunters, but they were happy to accommodate us for our 3 day retreat. Getting there was a bit of excitement. We left town around 9:30 for what as supposed to be a 6 hour drive. It took 12. The sun was setting at 6 as we turned into the long private road leading from town to the camp, and we were pushing it maybe a bit too fast. Then suddenly a large animal burst from the bush and hit our van!  Thankfully we weren’t hurt, and the animal ran away, but in the battle between kudu and vehicle, our van lost. It refused to move forward. After a couple hours the driver managed to get it going again, but after we’d only traveled a couple minutes, it stopped again. The kids curled up in the back and we prepared to wait for rescue, but with no cell phone reception, we knew that could be a while in coming. And knowing we were in a game park, we weren’t about to WALK out into the night in search of help. Thankfully, Aziza had packed ample food and water for the trip. As Joao put it: “we have food, water, and good spirit. What more do we need?”

Help did come. Some other MCCers who had arrived earlier in the day with their own truck decided to drive up the road towards town until they reached cell phone reception, and found us along the way. They did get the van moving again and we all reached camp safely.

Every morning at 6 AM we would go on game drives along the endless kilometers of paths that wound their way through the bush. Sadly we didn’t see any elephants, though a couple of people did say they saw a lion. The region was hilly and dry, with low widely spaced trees, and denser vegetation around the water sources. Summer was just arriving and the leaves were beginning to emerge. As a birder, this was perfect as the birds weren’t lost among the foliage and I was able to see some migrants coming through. I tried to keep it down to 15 lifers a day! For those of you who haven’t been hanging around birders long enough to know what a lifer is, it is a species that you see for the first time in your life, and definitely a noteworthy occasion. To see 45 in a three-day span was AMAZING. One afternoon we went for a walk on a dry riverbed, and saw where elephants were digging for water hidden below the sand. We heard a Greater Honeyguide calling at us from the banks of the river. If we were to have followed their call through the woods they would have lead us straight to a bee-hive full of honey. There has been a long understanding between these birds and people that when you harvest the honey, you will reciprocate by leaving some of the comb for the bird.

Stephanie (MCC SALTer in Machanga) and me standing in the midst of muddy elephant tracks at the water's edge.

 One time, I stopped the car to point out a large eagle sitting in a tree not far from the path. Eric (another MCCer from Canada), our Afrikaans guide, and myself were peering through our binoculars for a good 5 minutes, trying to figure out what species of eagle it was. Joao (MCC Mozambique national staff member) turned to me and said, with a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth: why don’t you just ask the bird what he’s called? I laughed heartily at his joke and I turned back to Sinclair’s Guide to the Bird’s of Southern Africa.  But was it just a joke? Mozambicans have a most cunning sense of humour that can make a crowd of people burst into laughter and at the same time reveal the deepest of truths. Of course the bird knows who he is. He doesn’t need Sinclair’s Guide to the Birds of Southern Africa to tell him that. If it doesn’t matter to him if he had a grey instead of yellow bill, why does it matter to us? Why are we the only ones who aren’t satisfied with the answer to the Ultimate Question and why do we insist on trying to answer it for every other living thing as well?

After much debating and consulting of various bird guides, we decided it was a Wahlberg’s Eagle.

Driving along the dry river bed, close to where we saw the Wahlberg's Eagle.

The highlight of the retreat was probably the night we drove up to the top of a mountain and watched the sun set over the trees. It was breathtaking beyond description. After, we sang songs around a campfire and ate a delicious supper of wild game. We watched the moon rise, so bright and full that it almost (but not quite fully) obscured the stars.

 And so, I have fallen in love with Africa. With the unmatchable beauty of the wild; with the wit, wisdom, and song of the people. It will be a long journey as I seek to understand the past of this country, feel the rhythm, discover just what it is I am here to do, and become aware of the hopes people have for the future. But if ever I get lost along the way and find myself wondering who am I and what is my purpose here? I’ll remember to keep in good spirit and take a lesson from the eagle. 

The story of the time I watched the sun set over the Indian Ocean

As many of you know, a couple weeks ago, on the 10^th of October, was my 24^th birthday. The 11^th happened to be my host brother’s second birthday, so we decided to celebrate both our birthdays on Saturday. They asked if I would like to make some Canadian food and make a Canadian cake on Saturday. I thought we were just having a small celebration with the 5-6 of us. However, Saturday morning arrived, and there were several chickens in the sink, and an entire bag of potatoes being peeled. I made my brownies, but then my host mother made two more cakes as well. People kept arriving, helping to prepare food. We were at it from 7 AM until 6PM. Most of that time I was just sitting there watching, but I probably spent at least 1 ½ hours throughout the morning peeling tiny cloves of garlic. By the time we ate, there were 30-40 people in the small apartment. The table was loaded with 4 different kinds of meat, homemade samosas, French fries, my spaghetti, rice and beans, salads, and, of course, cake. I was starving by the time we ate, having skipped lunch. There was a lot of people, a lot of noise, a lot of dancing, a lot of conversation I didn’t understand. I was ready for bed by the time people started leaving at 8:30!

The party was fun, but my actual birthday was not all that exciting. I spent the entire morning in the immigration office with a couple of the MCC staff trying to sort out the visa and residency process. Apparently I was mistakenly given a business visa instead of a residential one when I applied from Canada. To fix this problem, I’ll have to go across the border into Zimbabwe next week, re-apply for a visa, and then re-start the immigration process. We are not sure yet how this might affect when I get to go out to Machanga.  The pastor who took me to the immigration office commented that it is a birthday I’ll be sure to remember!

Despite the frustrations of the Thursday, I did, however, have a very nice evening on Friday. Jana, the MCC Mozambique country rep, took me to a café that sits on the beach. We sat there and watched the sun set over the ocean and had a really nice evening just chatting and getting to know one another. 

And so ended my second week in Mozambique; the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea carrying me forward as I look ahead to the next three years. 

The story of the time I threw my watch out the window.

I arrived in Mozambique last Tuesday evening. I was greeted at the airport by Jana, MCC’s country representative in Mozambique, and Pastor Madeira, from the church MCC partners with here. The seaside city of Beira is to be my home for the next month until I go to the rural district of Machanga. This past week I have been having in-country orientation with MCC, had my first Portuguese lesson on Thursday, met the leaders of the United Church of Christ in Mozambique- American Board (of which Pastor Madeira is the president), and got to meet the rest of the MCC team working here in the city of Beira. I was very fortunate that MCC was able to find me a home-stay for my first month in Mozambique. I am staying with Pastor Madeira and his family.

There’s nothing quite like living with a host family for getting involved in what’s going on in the community.  Friday was a public holiday; the day of Peace and Reconciliation in Mozambique. 21 years ago, the Rome peace accord was signed, ending a 16 year civil war between RENAMO and FRELIMO that was heavily influenced by outside parties. Now, the celebration is still going strong, a testament to the deep desire Mozambicans had to see peace in their country. We joined a long march across the city- there was much singing and dancing the whole way. The singing and dancing didn’t stop when we arrived at the indoor arena where we crammed onto the bleachers for a series of speeches and songs from choirs. That part might have been more interesting if I had been able to understand Portuguese, or if I had been able to see anything besides the backs of the people standing in front of me, but it was a valuable experience to be a part of and gave me a glimpse of the current political swing in this region.

The excitement didn’t end Friday. On Saturday, I went with Pastor Madeira and his 5 year old daughter Laura to a concert in honour of the day of Peace and Reconciliation. We arrived just before 9:00 AM- we wanted to be a bit early because Pastor Madeira was supposed to open in prayer. Three hours later it still hadn’t started and we had to leave because he was officiating a wedding starting at 1 and we had yet to go home and eat lunch. But just because the South African star of the show was delayed several hours didn’t mean there was no music while we waited… the band was jamming on stage and people from the crowd took turns going up to sing. At one point Laura was dancing on stage with the members of another choir that was to sing later.

As we were leaving, Pastor Madeira said rather apologetically “Things like this probably don’t happen in Canada, right?” I was about to tell the story of the time I was supposed to go to a Tree 63 concert in New Brunswick but it was cancelled last minute because the members of the band couldn’t enter the country (they hadn’t realized their visas expired)… until I realized Tree 63 is from South Africa. I remember last year hearing about a Justin Bieber concert that started a few hours late… but that made international headlines. But on the other hand, I still got to hear some great music and I got to meet a lot of people while we were waiting, including the mayor of Beira. That doesn’t happen in Canada either.

The wedding only started 20 minutes after the set time, so it is good we rushed home and ate quickly. Not 4 days in the country and I’ve already been to a wedding. Compared to the weddings I went to in Cambodia, this one was much more familiar to what I’m used to at home, but with lots more singing and dancing. I got home around 8 in the evening, thoroughly exhausted, but thoroughly happy. I was sitting in my bed reading when one of the kids poked his head around the corner and said “you don’t want to come talk, you’d rather stay and sleep?” I said yes. There will be time for talking tomorrow.

Time. Last week, I heard a young Ugandan man share this bit of wisdom: “white people have watches, Africans have time.”

This week I’ve spent so much time doing “nothing”. Waiting forever in line at the grocery store watching people cut in front of me (one guy was nice enough to ask first… was I supposed to say no?), waiting for a concert that didn’t start, waiting for the meal to begin at the wedding, sitting at the dinner table every day not understanding the conversation going on around me, crossing the city squished in the back of chapa (mini-van public transport), standing lost and alone in the middle of the crowd at the Peace celebration, watching TV in Portuguese with my host family, waiting for someone to take me home from the MCC office because I don’t know how to navigate there on my own yet. It is a humbling exercise in patience. Not that it has been too challenging for me; I’m pretty easy going when it comes to time. But for once I don’t have a pile of things to do to fill my time when I have nothing to do. At home, when not doing something “important”, how much of my time would be spent on Facebook? Baking or cooking food I’m not really hungry for? Answering emails that could just as easily wait for tomorrow? Watching Survivor reruns? I like to think I’m so efficient and productive with most of my time that the rest of it I need to let my mind take a break and do something mindless (cue Survivor re-runs). But how often do I just do nothing? How often do I have a chance to sit back and observe the people and culture and life around me? To learn a language just by listening to locals speak? To show my appreciation and commitment to people by just being present? To reflect on what a complex and beautiful experience getting to know a new culture truly is?

I’ve spent more than enough time blogging for one day. Until next week!

Yours truly.