Volunteerless & Brakeless

At the moment I am volunteerless. Sadly, Lucy was kicked in the face by a horse. It was a freak accident of course but it was a hairline fracture. A decision was made that she had to be transported by ambulance to Mutare but the border had already closed. The Mozambicans were great they kept the boom open and could not have been more obliging. The Zimbabweans on the other hand (although this was an emergency and Lucy was secured to a drip) insisted that she get out and fill in her visa forms. She had lost about three pints of blood from a nose bleed and had to stagger around the car park clutching her drip. The volunteer who was with her understandably lost his temper and called the customs official something unrepeatable. The customs official in retaliation confiscated the young volunteer's passport and threatened to hold him at customs for the night and charge him the next day. Fortunately for them somebody intervened before there was a major punch up in front of the boom. The ambulance was eventually able to go on its way with both volunteers in tact and the siren blaring. When Lucy was recently asked if volunteering in Africa was a life changing experience she had to think carefully before she replied "No, as a matter of fact it was more of a face changing one."

With Lucy and Donna back in England and Pat in Vilanculos I am a one woman show. When the driver had to head off to Zimbabwe for a passport stamp I took on his duties as well. As the water pump to the house was not working I had to collect water from a nearby dam for the horse paddock. This entailed taking the yellow landrover piled high with plastic containers down a slope to the edge of the dam. On this particular Sunday morning there was a crowd at the edge of the dam. It seemed to be a prayer meeting come baptism in progress. I reversed cautiously down the slope guided by my worker only to find that the landrover had no brakes. I pumped wildly, yelling shrilly. The worker had his hands over his eyes as I skidded down the hill and ploughed straight into the dam. As a wave of water hit the congregation they had the good sense to scatter and the baptism was abandoned while we filled up the containers. I leapt out of the vehicle to aplogise profusely noticing that my workers had their heads bent in shame at my atrocious driving. The prayer group were extremely nice about this unexpected intrusion and I was delighted to see they were all unscathed except for couple of mud balls attached to their hair. They blessed me but I didn't have the heart to tell them that God had left Africa a long time ago.

Adversity seems to be our constant companion in Mozambique a very difficult country to conquer, in our case we are trapped and if you read the history books nothing has changed. Still if you are in for a horse safari along the pristine beaches give us a call. I must say at times that council flat in the UK seems so inviting but I know I would have a hard time moving Patrick out of Africa.

With much love to you all

Mozambleak Mandy