Viewing entries by
alec vanderboom
I posted something snarky on Facebook the other day after receiving this nasty and biting email (names and identifiers have been changed):
Sarah,
How many times does it take to get you to change my e-address from this one to iamajerk@gmail.com???? Maybe "third times a charm."
Curmudgeon
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I spent an hour on the phone yesterday with a foul-mouthed, rockabilly, former-comedian-turned-pastor who does church by feeding homeless people in a park and having drinks with the local riffraff in neighborhood bars. I was at the end of my rope with many things about how people do "church" and "christianity" and needed an infusion of reality. Ask and ye shall receive.
We talked about how sermons suck and how neither of us could give one hot damn about what some white, middle-class dude says from a shiny pulpit. We talked about how we don't want to hear about Three Steps to Finding Your True Self, or Why Jesus Wants You to Have a BMW, or How To Feel Comfortable in Suburbia. It's empty. And our generation knows this in its core, but it seems that our lethargy and desire for comfort get the best of us.
As one travels North in Mozambique, poverty increases exponentially. Cabo Delgado is the northern most province of Mozambique and is also a province full of extreme poverty, malnutrition, and lack of access to basic resources. This is exactly the reason that we were so thrilled to have had the opportunity to drill two wells in this district near the city of Pemba.
After three days of bouncing through jungles on motorbikes under the punishing African sun, we had definitely earned a day off. On my last day in Quelimane, we had planned a day at Zalala Beach where we hoped to swim, relax, and chat about church life in Zambezia before leaving tomorrow. But this is Africa. And nothing in Africa ever goes as planned.
Upon our arrival at Antioch, I learned about the daily lives of the people here and how they have to dig holes in the sand in order to access tiny, underground springs for water. These holes that they dig are basically open wells that are easily contaminated and cause all kinds of health problems, but this is their only option. This community is next in line for a safe water well, and they were eager to share their need for safe water while educating me about their struggles.
I have never, in all my life, been to a location as remote as where we were yesterday. In order to reach the small, satellite churches of Inhassunge UMC near Quelimane, our travel plan was downright insane. The Inhassunge area is completely isolated, blocked by an ocean and rivers on three sides. To reach these villages, we rented motorbikes, which were loaded onto a very full and precarious ferry boat. After crossing the river on the ferry among throngs of people, we arrived safely on the other side, unloaded our motorbikes, and headed into the jungle. We drove for a good hour, passing coconut groves, vast rice fields, and trees full of wild monkeys.
