Tomorrow never comes. . .

I drove for the second time tonight through the streets of Maputo. Needless to say, it’s an experience. There aren’t stop lights at every busy crossing, let alone stop signs, which makes every intersection an adventure. I dodged people, cars, and pot holes down narrow streets trying to keep up with Scott while following him. At least we didn’t run out of gas tonight. When we picked up his car last night we ran out of gas leaving the dealer’s lot. Let’s just say that a full tank of gas obviously didn’t come with the car.

The city continues to amaze me with its contrasts. Yesterday I saw a woman sitting on the ground outside a classy dress shop selling a half a dozen pineapples in her tattered clothes.

You see the same contrast everywhere.

Trash blows by from overflowing Dumpsters where scavengers with cloth masks forage through the garbage beside a pricy shopping mall.

Men push wooden carts full of vegetables behind people driving their fancy 4 X 4s.

Mansions line the beach front, a few short kilometers from rundown high-rise apartment buildings with chipped paint and rusty air-conditioners.

Beggars stand at the street corner. Young men walk the streets with crutches, their legs lost from the horrors of land mines. Groups of uniformed school children with backpacks fill the busy streets on their way home from school. In the air is the scent of the sea--pictured above just after sunset with a stunning full moon--wafts of food from cafes, and in some places, trash and the sewer.

And along with the contrasts, it seems that tomorrow never comes. For over a week now, we’ve been told to come back tomorrow to get our official paperwork. We return, day after day, only to be told again, come back tomorrow.

We leave in the morning for South Africa. Our co-workers will continue to wait for the papers to be signed while Scott attends a meeting, and I wait with the kids with Allen and Janelle. Once they are signed we will have to apply for our visas in SA. Only God knows when all the details will work out. Until then, He’s given us peace. I was reminded today of how He knows how many hairs on our heads, which means He certainly cares about all the details we are dealing with.

More soon,

Lisa