During our day of reconnecting and teaching at Rusitu, Inocencio Varine discovered that one of the early missionaries from Rusitu had pioneered work in Mozambique and was revered by his mother. It was an emotional discovery.
The mountains of Mozambique are just across the valley from the mission, but for Inocencio and me it was an all-day taxi ride to reach the official border crossing near Mutare.
Riding in a falling-to-bits Hiace stuffed with 20 passengers and their goods, and tail-gating a semi- trailer to reduce wind resistance was another call for desperate prayer.
We made it to the border where I spent two hours being officially “robbed”, but eventually emerged into the sunshine of a new country.
“Sunshine” is how I remember it after the gloom of Zim. It is a desperately poor country recovering from civil war and floods, but everyone is on the go. One had the impression of growth and optimism, new banks – and semi-trailers everywhere.