I finally decided to get my journal out of the freezer and start blogging. No, it's not a security measure, it's an anti-bug measure (the kind with legs, not the electronic kind). When I got home, I put my suitcase outside on the terrace, and immediately washed everything that was even potentially washable, including my knapsack and coin purse. But my passport and journal needed a different approach, so I put them in a ziplock baggie in the freezer, in the hopes that any Mozambican insects wouldn't be able to handle the cold.
As soon as my feet touched the ground, I noticed that the very air smells different here - a combination of sun-baked earth, and faint burning smell, mixed with a pervasive scent of body odor. I would soon learn that these three smells are ever-present, just in varying percentages.
The airport is tiny -- only part of our group can even fit into the terminal. We wait in line outside until we finally get in the door. There is a mysterious $3 fee at immigration, but I'm lucky, because other people seem to be charged other random amounts. The baggage area is even smaller. Once I locate my bags it is hard to get them out of the room, because the aisle is narrower than my suitcase is wide. I'm fortunate in that the customs officials are so busy talking to each other that they pay no attention, and I don't have to explain the donations I'm bringing, including an excessive amount of feminine hygiene products (I chose them because they are light, and because I figured the guys would probably not opt to bring any).


My bug repellent has leaked. The entire bottle has disbursed through my suitcase. Fortunately it's the Repel,not the deet, and didn't destroy any clothes, but it saturated a notebook and a box of pepto bismol tablets (both of which I had to toss), and contaminated the other items, so my end of the dorm room has a peculiar herbal aroma. I comfort myself with the thought that we won't get malaria, and indeed I don't see a single mosquito in our room during the entire trip.
I'm excited to have arrived, but I'm also a little tentative. Why am I here? I hope that after getting over jet lag this will all start to make a little more sense. And I hope even more strongly that I'll find out that this whole thing was God's idea, not just my own.
P.S. If you would like to comment on my blog, please note that the ministry I was visiting has asked us to not use their name online. Please avoid using the name of the city, the name of the ministry, and the director of the ministry in your comments.
1 comment:
Ann i enjoyed hearing your stories today!! Especially the unbloggable!!!! ;O)
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