Still in Maputo

I spent the weekend in Maputo -- it wasn't my original plan. I'd intended to go to the northern part of the country for a few days and visit our programs, but the flights were $500 and it just didn't seem justifiable. So I enjoyed a weekend with nothing in particular to do. I'm staying with a wonderful woman who is in the country for 3 years, volunteering with our organization. Sunday, she and I took a long walk along the beach and decided to return towards the apartment by cutting through town rather than doubling back.

Before I say anything more, I should emphasize that I have lived in Baltimore City for eight years and I have traveled to roughly ten countries in Africa, some of them just coming out of civil war. I have never in all that time been threatened with bodily harm or had anything stollen from my person. But there's a first time for everything...

My friend and I were making our way up a dusty road just a block from the ocean and I was telling her the story of my life (we had a lot of time together) and how I became a Christian. I was just approaching the tumultous teenage years as a man walked directly towards us, pulled out a large kitchen knife and said to me, “Your bag, your bag, your BAG!” and I said “Okay” (he was so impatient). I quickly pulled the purse strap over my head and transferred the purse to his hands. It was over in 4 seconds. He was gone.

Luckily, all I had in the bag was a pack of gum and my wallet with a few credit cards, much less cash than he was probably hoping for, my drivers’ license, a few gift cards (damnit I should have used those by now -- but good luck to him finding a Pottery Barn in Mozambique) and assorted membership cards. Thank God my passport and the bulk of my cash wasn’t with me. We walked the rest of the way home and I called Richard to get his help cancelling my credit cards. And that was that.

Richard said to me on the phone, "I'll pray for you, and for him." He was grateful I hadn't tried to use my Jujitsu (this man didn't look like his principles would keep him from using the knife). But Richard's words made me wonder about the man who took my purse. I wonder how he'll spend (or has spent) the $30 he got from me. Maybe he has a baby he's trying to feed, or ailing parents. More likely, he just wanted it for himself. I don't mind that he took it, to be honest, and the whole thing could have been a lot worse.

I'm thankful that my life circumstances are not so desperate that taking someone's possessions at knife-point seems like a viable response.