The stuff they DON'T tell you about missions...

::sigh:: Soo, this is the big post about Mozambique I've been putting off writing. Keep in mind, this is only from my perspective. In no way am I dissuading anyone from being a missionary! I certainly haven't written it off even for myself! But, I have to say, there were a few things I wasn't prepared for, even in my short 3.5 week trip to east Africa.

First of all, it was harder to deal with the dirt & the disease than I thought it would be. I'm kind of ashamed of this, because I thought I was so easy going and adaptive! Well, the dirt in Moz is actually red sand, and it gets EVERYWHERE. It was in my scalp, my ears, my nose, my bed- even in my food! (It was amazing that my digestion was ok all month, considering all the sand I ate!) By the end of the first week, it was engrained into the skin on my feet. I could never get truly clean. Even with running water showers on the base, there was sand and mud and clods of hair in the stalls, wet red sand everywhere, so if I lifted up my foot to wash it, the second I put it back down on the floor, it was dirty again. All the buildings are open to the outside air (thank God for the nice weather!), so that also didn't help to block the sand from blowing in or being tracked in. Also, the people in the area suffer from a lot of diseases that were nagging at me in the back of my mind, as hard as I tried to ignore it and not worry. God is our healer, right!? But especially when I saw kids with bloated bellies from worms, and ringworm and scabies on their bodies, I got nervous that I was going to catch something.

Secondly, I had somewhat of a feeling of chlostrophobia, like I was going to be stuck in Africa forever. This only happened after the rest of my team left and I was by myself. And really, it only happened at night when I was trying to sleep. It was probably a demonic attack. Whatever it was, it was scary. Maybe I was just experiencing heightened culture shock.

The last and biggest thing I dealt with in Moz, though, I REALLY had a tough time with. All along, I had been picturing the African orphans as these poor little adorable children, who just needed someone to feed them and play with them and hug them, and tell them that they were God's precious treasures. While that's all still true, what I wasn't prepared for was their response to us trying to do that. The whole area I visited is under seige by a spirit of poverty. What I've learned is that a spirit of ENTITLEMENT goes along with a spirit of poverty. These kids were picked off the street, given beds, clothes, daily food, even toys, field trips, school supplies, and surrounded by people who care for them. Many of them though, are not grateful for what they've received, but rather demand more.

I'll give you a few examples.