August 7th-8th, 2023
Striking up conversations with people seems to be a regular pastime for Nick. On more than one occasion so far on this trip he has received extra meals and fancy chocolates, as well as farewell greetings from many of the other passengers on the plane who disembarked in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire while we sat on the plane waiting for our next segment. Solomon wrote, “A man who has friends must himself be friendly” (Proverbs 18:24a, NKJV). This is a proverb that I’ve seen in action. One that plays on the human desire to build positive relationships.
It seems like only yesterday (we lost a day somewhere in there) that we stepped off our first plane in Addis Ababa to what I can only describe as the slowest night in that airport. There were hardly any lines and after quickly making our way through the brief immigration process with our hotel vouchers in hand, we climbed on a barely full bus and were taken a few blocks away to the Skylight Hotel. This time around I got to share this experience with someone else. The food was equally delicious as before, especially the injera with the various spicy stews (although I think Nick might disagree slightly on the injera).
The morning of the 8th we had agreed to meet for breakfast at 6:30am. My personal plan was to be awake before then so I wouldn’t have to rush or be concerned about possibly being late for our flight. As it turns out, I hadn’t correctly set my alarm. I opened my eyes to see daylight which seemed strange to me. I checked my phone to see several messages asking if I was ready for breakfast (which I was not). It was then I realized the time: 6:34am. Less than an hour to get ready, head downstairs, eat breakfast, make conversation, and get on the bus to the airport. No problem. I’m just glad I woke up when I did. By the way, when I arrived at breakfast Nick had already made friends with a man who works in NYC. This was the only person I’ve met so far who actually admits to enjoying the daily commute into the city.
The flight to Harare went as planned, although we were about an hour late. Meals came and went. Sleep came and went. Announcements came and went. Soon we had arrived. The airport in Harare has undergone some improvements and we had the chance to see a newer wing of the place as we exited the plane and headed towards immigration. As usual Nick had befriended a flight attendant who told us more about Ethiopian currency (Birr) and a little about Cameroon where she is from. He received a parting gift of two boxes of chocolates which he later gave to Mabasa and me as we were passing the halfway point between Harare and Mutare. In the line to get our visas we met two ladies originally from near Kadoma, Zimbabwe who now live in Northern Ireland. One lady had stories about living in the US and traveling to many different states. Neither of them had heard of Mabasa Chichaya making me think they have been away for quite some time.
Even though we were a little late, Mabasa was there to meet us. We climbed in the pickup and headed on down the road, east toward Mutare, the home of Mike Mukarati an elder who has served God’s people in Zimbabwe for many years. I had never been to Mutare and I haven’t seen Mike in a while. The trip, I felt, was a must. This year marked 10 years since Mike was ordained into the ministry. I had been given a pin and a card to personally deliver to him. The pin had been hidden away in my backpack for months, traveling where I traveled, to make sure I didn’t forget such a momento. We got stuck in a long queue at a toll booth which delayed us more than we anticipated so we didn’t begin crossing the mountain pass (Christmas Pass) that would lead us into Mutare until about an hour after the sun had set. As we made our way down the other side of the pass, we could see the lights from the city below in the valley.
The road to Mutate from Harare is a tarmac road that is well maintained, smooth, scenic. I sat in the backseat of the pickup which gave Nick a chance to see everything up front, and also hopefully to have some room to stretch his legs. What I didn’t realize was how clearly I could see the sunset through the rear window over my right shoulder. Zimbabwe has some breathtaking views of hills and mountains that are scattered around in different areas. I was able to get a few photos of the scenic hills with the sun setting close by. At one point we stopped on the side of the road for a moment where I was able to get a few photos without the frame of the window.
The tarmac continued all the way up to the street that Mike lives on. At night it was difficult for Mabasa to recall and identify which house it was. He called Mike as we drove. Eventually we reached a familiar house with a sign bearing Mike’s information. And of course coming out of the gate to greet us was the man himself. It was so nice to see him.
Mike welcomed us into his home where he had some nshima (aka nsima aka sadza) and some meat and relish waiting for us. Before partaking in the meal I pinned his 10-year pin onto his shirt. He wore it proudly all evening. We ended up staying the night at Mike’s house rather than trying to venture out to find accommodations in town. That meant more time to chat in the evening and the next morning. Thankfully, since it is still winter, and since there are far fewer mosquitoes in the region than we had anticipated, we slept without nets and with the windows open. I slept soundly, enjoying Mike’s hospitality.
– Lewis VanAusdle
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