10:57am, January 8, 2012. My boss’ apartment, Beira, Mozambique.
Happy New Year!
It’s hard to believe that 2012 is already here – I was just thinking back to the day in 2009 when I signed my three-year commitment with MCC, and the feeling that 2012 was some fantastical, far-off time and place. I just presented my final annual plan to the rest of the MCC Mozambique staff this past Wednesday, and with all of the transitions currently taking place, it rather feels like I’m moving into the beginning of the end of my time in this country. Whew. This is going to be a very big year, I think.
I had hoped to be back in Tete several days ago, but, as some of you know, my wallet was stolen about ten minutes after my arrival in Beira on the 31st, and I’ve had to stick around the city to deal with the resulting complications inherent to a loss of important documents (which included my residency ID that allows me to live in Mozambique, my Oregon driver’s license, and bank cards from both American and Mozambican institutions).
Lots of folks were praying with me that the wallet and documents would turn up, and I did everything I could think of to locate the missing items (including putting some announcements on the radio), but I’ve yet to receive any good news in that regard. I really appreciate all of you people and your care for me, and while I don’t really understand why the prayers haven’t been answered, I trust God and whatever He’s up to. He’s a good Dad.
I’ve written before about the ineffectiveness of Mozambican bureaucratic processes, and had another bitter taste of that this week. In order to freely move about the country and procure new documents, I’m required to carry around and present an official police report showing that my wallet was, in fact, stolen, and that I’m not merely fabricating claims about my identity as a legal Mozambican resident, driver and bank account owner. Unfortunately, though, I was refused any documentation at the police station where I reported the crime (which was also a goofy experience – I had to loudly and repeatedly recount the story and explain the wallet’s many unfamiliar-to-Mozambicans contents while sitting next to a shouting, inebriated individual handcuffed to our shared bench), a situation reminiscent of last year’s stolen motorcycle fiasco.
New Year’s Eve was a tough one for me – the stolen wallet was only the most recent of a long line of frustrating setbacks, and I felt pretty discouraged and stuck. I had a very helpful conversation with my folks that night, though, and was reminded of some truths that I’d forgotten in the messiness of life. I really appreciate them.
Mr. Chauca, a Mozambican-trained judge and the resident MCC miracle-worker, was pretty indignant when I told him about the police report issue at our staff meeting, and he spent several hours on Thursday doing who-knows-what in the city. I don’t really know which methods Mr. Chauca employed, and he didn’t offer any explanations afterwards, but he returned from his mission with a police report in hand and apologies from the police department on his lips. Ha, God bless him.
So, in conclusion, I’m now trying to figure out the best way to get back to Tete, where I’ll begin the process of replacing my documents. All of the buses look to be full until Friday, with all of the late holiday travellers still traversing the country, so I may have a few more days to enjoy the coast before heading back to the lowveld.
Thanks for the continued prayer and love, everyone, and may the peace of Christ be with us all this year.
