Elephant hair is NOT good luck/Christmas in Maputo

He told me it was good luck. He was wrong. A few days ago I bought a bracelet made out of elephant hair. (I'm a bit curious as to just where this supposed "hair" is from because elephants don't strike me as the "hairy" type but I took their word for it) The guy selling them on the streets spoke great English and he told me that not only are the bracelets fashionable, it would bring me good luck. He then went on to describe how he lives outside of the city but has never been mugged traveling at night in and out of the city because he wears the bracelet. I told him that I believed in someone much more powerful than elephant hair- that God protects me so I don't need "good luck charms." When I asked him if he believed in God he assured me that he did and when I asked him about Jesus, he also said he believed in Him. Mark then explained that he believed Jesus gave us elephant hair bracelets to protect us. This is the perfect example of how many Mozambicans are synchratists and blend the beliefs of the Bible with their own beliefs. I left Mark having bought a bracelet but reiterating that God protects me, not the bracelet. .Well then a few days ago, I made an uswise decision, had a "blonde moment" if you will, and decided to walk to a store in an area that is often deserted and is known for being dangerous. The embassy has sent out numerous warnings about walking in this area but I really needed to finish my Christmas shopping and this was the only day I could go so I double-knotted by shoes and headed for the shop. I was still in my "teacher attire" which means a skirt, blouse, and running shoes and was wielding an umbrella since the skies were threatening to open at any moment. As I walked toward the shop, I looked down and noticed the bracelet and thought, "hmmmmmm....that would be ironic if something extraordinary happens to me while I'm wearing this." At the exact moment that the thought wondered in my mind, I ran straight into some overhanging branches which lodged themselves in my pony tail so I was literally caught in the tree and had to stop and untangle my hair and rub the sore spot. I should have turned around at that point. Maybe being attacked by an inanimate object was God's way of telling me this was not to be a lucky trip. I ignored my instincts and kept on power-walking to the store. After about 15 minutes of gliding along, I realized it really was a deserted area and started to wonder about the wisdom of my decision. My instincts told me to turn around and when I did I saw a young Mozambican man RUNNING towards me. I was walking quite fast and to catch up to me, one would have to run and right when I saw him I got an awful feeling. My actual thought was "Oh crap, I bet he's got a knife in that bag and is going to steal my shoes." (I had stuck my money in my trusty spandex shorts) I actually remembered some tips from self-defense training at Westmont and knew that I should look straight at him so he knew he wasn't going to surprise me. I don't know where this came from but as I glared at him with my best "don't mess" face, I whipped the umbrella in a fashion so that it quickly extended and then I proceeded to twirl it around like a weapon and then I turned back around and continued walking fast. He had slowed down to a fast walk and I kept turning around to see how much closer he was getting. After a few minutes of suspenseful walking and umbrella twirling, we were completely alone with no cars in sight so I finally listened to my instincts and I ran...fast. I figured if he was going to mug me, he was going to have to work hard. As I ran I prayed...not for an angel...somehow I knew there was one already...I prayed that the guy would see the angel that I could not see. When I turned back around he had stopped his pursuit and was standing still. Not wanting to take any more chances, I didn't stop running. I had to take a longer detour to avoid the potential mugger and ran a good two miles...in my skirt and made it home with a drenched skirt, no Christmas presents, and a learned lesson.

Christmas shopping in Maputo has been a...well, a different experience. I didn't face the usual obstacles of packed parking lots, crowded malls, and long lines. The obstacles in Maputo involve bartering to get the best price, dodging cars as we shop on street corners and fighting off pushy, desperate venders promising to give you a "good price madam." A few weekends ago Heldio (fellow CAM teacher) took Lindsay and I around town to different spots to shop. Here we are at the hut which is actually where I was heading when I got a bit "side-tracked" by the running man. We also went to the newly-opened shopping mall for the first time. The stores were only for the immensely wealthy and looked too nice for me to even step foot in but we did get a picture by one of the few Christmas trees I've seen in Maputo.
I love buying gifts for people but the problem is I become a bit obsessed with finding people the perfect gift and every year I lose sight of why I am giving gifts. In my naivete I figured I would not face that issue this year since I'm in Africa. But silly me, I fell prey once again to the trap of thinking more about the gifts I'll give than why we are celebrating. Luckily God opened my eyes to this on the way to school one day.

I was walking briskly, humming along, lost in my own bizarre Katie world of thoughts when a powerful, clear thought or rather, question, came bursting through the fog of my daydreams and smacked me in the face: "What was it like in heaven 10 months before Christmas?" (just this year I realized that the pregnancy is longer than 9 months...why isn't this more publicized?) What was it like for Jesus, the Father, the Spirit, the angels...all knowing what Jesus was about to do? What must have gone through Jesus' mind knowing the incredible pain and suffering he was about to subject himself to for our sake? What were the angels thinking? (I think if I were an angel I would have been thinking "Don't do it!! They don't deserve it Jesus!") Did they have a "farewell feast?" What was going through God's mind right before he allowed his Son to clothe himself in humanity? Did he give Jesus a pep talk? Did He cry?

As my mind explored these questions, I was overwhelmed like never before by the emotion behind Christmas, by the implication of what Jesus' birth meant and I was suddenly sobbing. (got some great confused looks from the Mozambicans) Raised in the Church, of course I know in my head the "reason for the season" but I don't always allow the reason we celebrate affect me as it should and my thoughts and actions don't always show that I am truly remembering why we celebrate Christmas. I get so consumed by giving gifts that I forget about the enormity of the most amazing gift the world has ever received.

This year I have been so excited about "Christmas" but I confess it is not for the right reasons. I have been so ecstatic because I get to see my family. Like a child waiting in eager anticipation for Christmas because of Santa, I have waited eagerly for this season but not because I was excited about remembering what Jesus has done for me, but because I get to see my family. Not that longing for my family is a bad thing- I believe God blessed me with an amazing family and understands I miss them- but I wish I constantly longed for Heaven like I've longed for home, I wish Christmas would be a time each year when I would be overwhelmed by what Jesus has done for me, a time when I wouldn't stress about what gifts to give but rather, would rejoice in the gift I have already received. I'm sorry if I sound preachy but I feel like such a moron for losing sight of Jesus during "Christmas season." My prayer for myself and others is that God would put afresh on our hearts an understanding of what it meant for Jesus to be born; what it meant for Jesus, for the world, and for us personally. I feel like I've heard this idea nearly every year but for the first time, I actually understand it.

Teaching at a Christian school, it was so neat to have a Christmas program that was totally centered on Jesus. (well...and Christmas food) Lindsay's kids dressed up and recited several memory verses as a part of a Christmas poem and Mrs. Meyers wrote a play about the shepherds on Christmas night. My kids did great on their recitation of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and then led everyone in singing Christmas hymns. I had a flashback to singing at half time in the Philippines when someone would hit a wrong note and Trent and I would exchange a look and then lose it and start laughing so hard we couldn't sing. One of my students reminds me of Trent and when some one's voice cracked, I happened to be looking at Domingos who broke out into laughter and when I needed to give him a stern look (he was on stage so everyone was watching) instead, I had to turn away because my shoulders were shaking from laughing as well. The Christmas season in Maputo has definitely been drastically different from home. It's hot and sticky outside, there's no Christmas music playing, very few decorations in town, and very few people are preoccupied with all the "Christmas festivities." Christmas isn't as big of a deal to Mozambicans and many of my own students don't do any of the traditions I've always held so dear. This has been just another reminder to me that Christmas isn't about all the traditions...although I love them..It's not even about family....although I love them too... Christmas is about Jesus coming to earth- may we never forget, may this fact be radical and transforming every year.