Beira

The drive from the airport to Beira was very eye opening. Even stepping through Immigration to obtain our Visas was intimidating. We spoke only English, and the Authorities only Portuguese. Luckily, Ryan Rushing, an MTI employee was there to guide us through using his broken Portuguese. We had some issues with Immigration; David was bringing a whole suitcase full of vitamins for MTI (which in my opinion looked very similar to smuggling drugs :) and the police at the border interrogated Ryan, David, and dad for a good 20 minutes. I have never felt so out of my element, sitting there in the Customs building surrounded by luggage and about 25 Africans who spoke no English and have probably never seen a 18 year old white kid ("Mizungo") in their entire lives.

Anyway, we got through with some serious convincing, and began the drive to Beira. The living conditions here are astounding. The level of poverty is unlike anything I have ever been exposed. People are crammed into these little mud huts right alongside the road. Maybe 1 in 10 people have a pair of shoes, and even then, these shoes would not even be fit for a thrift store in America. The seating in vehicles is less about following laws and more about see

ing how many people you can cram into a confined space (typically about 15 to a 7 seater van).

Sorry for writing such novels, but there is so much that we've experienced, and now that I have internet in Sena, I wanna be able to share our last few days with you.