The Vision Thing

During the recent meeting in which I faced opposition to our business ideas, one person raised a simple but important question: "What's the vision for this project?" he asked.

His vision and mine didn't match, which made me realize that I need to spend more time articulating and selling a clear vision. Let me back-track a bit.

The objective for my work in Mozambique is to identify and remove any barriers that exist to economic development for members of our churches and their communities. This objective will be accomplished in three ways:

• Micro-enterprise training and mentoring opportunities, including financial stewardship and accountability at personal, church and business levels;

• Facilitating access to business opportunities and resources, including business franchising opportunities; and,

• Promotion of village-based savings and credit services.
  

Especially since coming to Mozambique, I have realized that we cannot remove barriers to economic development simply by starting yet another microcredit bank.

There are an abundance of microfinance institutions working here already. Thirty-two, by last count. Several of them are sophisticated, international organizations whose core business is the financial services that they provide.

Credit is available, albeit at a high price, to those who want it, particularly in urban areas.

Many proponents of microcredit like to simplify the world into two groups: those who are thriving with microcredit loans, and those who have not (yet) received microcredit loans.

Africa is more complex than this.

The challenges are clear: well-established microcredit banks have come to the conclusion that microcredit lending is extremely expensive, and have reflected that conclusion in their interest rates.

As well, Mozambique’s credit culture is sufficiently weak that many people readily interpret loans – particularly loans from deep pocketed Westerners – to be grants. Gifts to be repaid only in the event that the borrower becomes wealthier than the lender.

A better model for the people we want to target is to start building a savings infrastructure so that people can accumulate wealth. They can do this amongst themselves, as a group. When people need to borrow, they can borrow from the group’s pool, and pay a modest amount of interest that is in turn given to deposit holders. People won’t object as strongly to paying interest to themselves.

The model also provides for a modest form of group insurance by collecting a small fee from group members and redistributing it, by consensus of the group, to those with a pressing need, like malaria testing.

It’s really a model of grassroots banking. It will be slow to implement, since no loans will be paid out until savings have been received, but will be more sustainable. Our role will be to train Mozambicans with the process and structure and let them implement it. They won’t need us to maintain a complex or expensive banking infrastructure.

This vision, I would argue, is quite bold and exciting. The vision means that Mozambicans can make donor-driven microcredit lending obsolete by filling their own savings and credit needs until those needs are large and sophisticated enough to qualify for commercial banking.

In an earlier entry, I implored Nobel laureate Dr. Yunus to lead the way in the development of a better microcredit model. The model that I am proposing is neither new nor perfect. In some ways, it mirrors important features of the Grameen bank that have been removed by its successors, chief amongst which is ownership by the borrowers.

Our vision is to fight poverty by giving power back to the people.


Further Reading

• Micro-Enterprise Development Vision Document [PDF]

Answered Prayer: Relationships

By Laura

Before leaving Toronto, my prayer was that I would develop meaningful relationships while here in Maputo, especially with women, and that I would feel a sense of living in Christian community.

Women are relational beings. When blessed with friends with whom they can share their joys and frustratrations with no fear of being rejected, they feel able to thrive, able to really be themselves. In the book Captivating, John Eldredge shares this thought: "Whatever else we know about women, we know they are relational to their cores. While little boys are killing one another in mock battles on the playground, little girls are negotiating relationships... This is so second nature to them, so assumed by women, that it goes unnoticed by them. They care more about relationships than just about anything else."

I am just like any other woman, and so my prayer was to be able to develop deep relationships. As a Christian, it is also my desire to be able to share with and learn from other Christians; to the able to grow closer to Christ by being stretched and encouraged by other believers.

God has answered both of these requests through one very special group of women. Ever since my first week here, I have been a member of a women's Bible study group. I say a 'member' because these women accepted me and made me feel like I had always been a regular participant even my first time out. They are missionaries, mostly from the United States, from all different organizations. We all have several key things in common: we have left comfort, family and friends to be in Maputo, Mozambique; we love the Lord Jesus; we are trying to serve him here; and we have a lot to learn.

What I have enjoyed the most about these women is their acceptance and openness. They share about frustrations and discouragement. All in the group have experienced these, but there are always those have seen the other side and can offer encouragement, support, and wisdom. They also share about the things they have learned over the weeks about themselves or God or both. They share about the difficult, humbling lessons, as well as the joyful, uplifting lessons.

We just finished a study by Beth Moore called 'Believing God'. I had never heard of Beth Moore, but she is a very popular speaker/author in the southern United States. We would watch her talk for an hour on DVD (although the word 'talk' is deceiving -- she is very animated!) and then we would complete a workbook with readings and questions throughout the week. When I first heard Beth Moore, I admit I was skeptical (the word 'animated' is perhaps not strong enough.. :), but I have thoroughly enjoyed this study. She has a humble spirit, great faith, and provides wonderful insight in a captivating and humourous way. I have learned so much and it has stretched my perceptions of God and what faith can be. The study is based on five principles that appear simple, but have far reaching implications if truly believed:

1) God is who He says He is; 2) God can do what He says He can do; 3) I am who God says I am; 4) I can do all things through Christ; 5) God's Word is alive and active in me.

I feel that I still have a long way to go before I am really living my life in the truth of these statements. But I am encouraged to know that God cares more that we set our eyes on him and keep moving forward, than how long it takes to get there!

We have not yet started our next study (it takes a while to acquire materials in Mozambique) so in the meantime we are meeting to share and sing and pray. Praise God!

The Response

Last week, I wondered whether or not honouring a request for a loan would hurt the borrower more than not giving it. The requester returned yesterday and told me that he had done much thinking, and would still like the full loan, if I'm able to offer it to him.

Of course, the rules of the game shifted over the weekend.

As if to taunt the "wisdom" of my earlier words, my prospective borrower's house was robbed on the very day I wrote them. Important, yes; Urgent, no, I wrote. And then the very vulnerability that he sought to repair was breached.

The target of the thievery wasn't televisions or jewelry. He doesn't have these things. He doesn't even have electricity or running water. No, the target had basic, but real, value. He was robbed of his single-burner paraffin stove, a pan full of food, and some other food on shelves. The thief was hungry.

How much this theft impacted my friend's decision to take the loan, I'll never know.

After much deliberation, I decided to meet him part way. I loaned him a third of the money that he needed, and the two of us agreed to a schedule of weekly repayments. I also gave him another third outright as an early Christmas bonus for work that he has been doing for me over the past months. Needing the final third will keep him motivated to continue to chase down leads for more regular work.

I also offered to help him with the repairs.

He was quite happy with this outcome. The schedule of repayment contemplates him being able to pay off the debt in two months. It is a little bit aggressive, but he welcomed the challenge. He pointed to one week in the middle of the schedule, and announced his goal to double his payment for that week in order to pay off the debt faster.

In doing so, he figured that $16 a month was more than what he needed to buy rice, cooking oil and sugar. The Mozambican staples. He would find a way to survive.

And he had understood that that debt is serious, after all.

A Property Development Diversion

Laura and I have been keenly interested in remaining flexible while in Mozambique, keeping an eye out for the greatest needs and adjusting our work as necessary.

It should come as no surprise that the harvest is plenty, but the labourers are few. There’s no shortage of work for us to do here, but matching the greatest needs with our skills and interests is an on-going challenge.

OMS, the organization that we are attached to while in Mozambique, is developing a post-secondary institution that will offer seminary training to aspiring pastors.

By North American standards, the project is relatively small. Once completed, it will be a 15,000 square foot, four-storey concrete block and glass structure.

On several occasions, the project manager for the facility construction has asked for my assistance to keep the project moving along.

* * * * *

Maputo is a sprawling city whose many low-rise concrete buildings are due for more than just a fresh coat of paint. Much of the city was built by the Portuguese and, when they fled (which coincided with Mozambique's independence in 1975), they left behind a void of professionals and skilled trades workers. Buildings that were under construction 30 years ago remain unfinished, though where possible the completed floors are occupied.

This isn't to say that people in Mozambique lack the capacity to build and maintain major infrastructure works; rather, that it's incumbent upon the leadership of a nation to train up its people with the requisite skills to do so. The Portuguese withheld such education in decades passed, and Mozambique still suffers for it.

It would appear that safety regulations are almost non-existent in Mozambique. I recently heard of a gentleman from South Africa who witnessed the stringency of safety regulations in Canada and wondered how we ever get any work done. I suspect that someone from Mozambique would wonder the same of South Africa.

I've seen a hard hat on the construction site once. It was upside down, full of water, being used by one of the workers to clean some tools.

The project is behind schedule by several months. In fact, by the original schedule it should have been completed before I arrived in Mozambique. Here's just a flavour of the challenges faced on this project:

• Labourers who have a very real and immediate need to feed their families. In the African context, it is not practical to withhold significant payment because the workers are quite literally hungry. Payment in small amounts -- even $20 at a time -- is often a strong encouragement to maintain the project’s momentum.

• Several contracts with sub-contractors are for labour only, making it our responsibility to ensure that materials are present -- a risk they will not accept because of the difficulty in securing supply, and because they don't have sufficient working capital to carry an inventory. For example, the labourers who have been hired to lay tile on the hallway floors and bathroom walls ran out of materials earlier this week. I travelled with an assistant to nearly a dozen shops over two days before finding tiles -- similar in colour, and not quite the right size. But close enough.
  

• Business that is transacted largely in cash, which requires a strong record keeping discipline. Imagine trying to build a college without writing a cheque. To add to the challenge, the project’s contracts and suppliers deal in three different currencies: Mozambican meticais, South African rand and US dollars.

• Not having assurance of the funding necessary to complete the project. This is typical for not-for-profit capital projects, since potential donors often want to see a building rising out of the ground before committing their donations.

• Design coordination issues (and incomplete designs) that need to be managed. This is a problem with construction around the world, but is exacerbated in a culture where, according to author David Maranz, “People tend to accept immediate, cheap, or even quasi-legal solutions when dealing with business matters, rather than take care of matters properly, deal with technicalities or delays, or incur additional expense.” (Maranz, p. 182.)

* * * * *

After visiting the 12th shop, I returned with Geraldo, our Mozambican project assistant, with my small car loaded with enough tile and grout to keep the workers busy for a few more days.

When we arrived, the tilers were sitting around playing a game of checkers -- one side using bottle caps, another side using small stones. Geraldo called them over to collect the new materials, yelling (in English), "Come on! Time is money!" He looked at me and laughed, wondering if I'd ever heard that expression. The tilers wouldn't have understood the words, and even if they had've been in Portuguese, wouldn't have understood their significance.

"I heard someone yell that in South Africa once," Geraldo explained to me, with a grin on his face. "Those guys work hard."

Can Helping Hurt?

In a previous posting, I wrote that we have decided to help people however and wherever asked. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Too simple.

So what is the proper response when someone makes a request that could easily be fulfilled, but might just end up hurting more than helping?

Last week, a friend asked for a loan. To me, it was a relatively small sum: I could have honoured his request for $250. And through the looking-glass of North America, the need seemed great: he wanted the money to buy some sheets of tin to cover his open-to-the-sky house, and some other improvements that would help him secure his possessions. How can I deny someone $250 so that he can literally put a roof over his head?

To him, by contrast, this request was huge. It represented four or five months' worth of salary.

Knowing that I didn't really understand his living situation (though I've been to his house), but also knowing that he's lived without much of his house covered since March (which isn't that unusual in Mozambique), I knew that the situation wasn't urgent. Important, yes. Urgent, no.

Laura suggested that I make it a teachable moment, so that's exactly what I did.

When presented with the request, I told my friend that I would think about it and that we could talk about it the next day. When we met again, I didn't have an answer, but instead had prepared a lesson on Biblically-sound financial principles.

My task when I came to Mozambique was to work on micro-enterprise development initiatives. Being here, I've realized that mentoring people on personal finances is a critically important foundational step: an entrepreneur can't build a successful business if he doesn't know how to manage his own finances.

The requester is a young Christian, so respected the wisdom of the Bible. Had he not been, its teachings are still rational, rooted in common sense.

I spoke to him about things that seem obvious to a guy with a Master's degree in business, and a house with a mortgage. I asked him questions like:

Have you made a plan? Do you really need to do all of the work now? Or can some of it wait until you have saved some money?

How will you continue to feed yourself and your family -- an important obligation -- if you spend four or five months of salary on these house improvements?

How will you cope with other unexpected expenses that may arise over the coming months?

How will taking this loan restrict your future decisions? Will it require you to continue along a path you don't like in order to pay the loan back? Might it prevent you from pursuing an opportunity that arises because of the outstanding obligation?

These questions struck him like great bits of wisdom. He understood the need to think carefully about his request, and asked for time to do so.

* * * * *

Naturally, I could have offered to give him the money, which would seem like the compassionate thing to do. That would have been completely within my ability, and it's a response that I wrestled with at great length.

I could have allowed him to put a roof over his house and avoid being enslaved by debt.

My hope is that mentoring him in the way to plan and think through his financial decisions will be an investment worth far more to him than had I opened my wallet and handed him $250. My prayer is that he becomes a master of his own destiny, not dependent upon the generosity of a rich, white foreigner next time a big financial need arises.

* * * * *

Laura and I don't yet know how we will help. Our friend will soon return to us, having carefully reconsidered his request. We expect that he'll come back to us with a proposal -- perhaps the same request, perhaps not. And if, when he returns, he again requests the loan, should we comply?

A Second Step Forward

Last week, I wrote of the challenges that I ran up against when presenting our chicken farming "franchise" model to a group of church leaders. I had naively assumed that the church leaders would be more receptive of an opportunity to partner with successful entrepreneurs to develop a micro-enterprise.

This week, I travelled out of the city with my colleague Glenn to present the idea to Christina and Miguel, the family of chicken farmers who could potentially serve as the "franchisor" in our model, and received a more positive reception.

Since we had been at their home a couple of weeks ago, they had expanded their chicken houses and were now raising 2,150 chickens -- roughly a 100% increase.

Miguel explained to us that they expanded because they saw greater demand for their product. He also explained that entrepreneurs never stop expanding. He's not satisfied with 2,150 chickens, but wants to grow the business even larger.

For better or for worse, that sentiment is the fuel that drives economic development around the world.

It's also the sentiment that we're hoping to build upon for the success of our "franchise farming" model. Christina and Miguel have a vision of us helping them to expand their business by building more chicken houses and buying more chickens; by contrast, our vision is to help them expand by teaching them to sell the expertise that they have developed over the past decade of raising chickens to help inexperienced franchisees to have the same success.

Christina and Miguel received the proposal in a very encouraging manner: skeptical optimism. They welcomed the proposal, and thought that it was a good idea. They also spoke at length about a list of fears that they have.

Of their fears, trust was featured most prominently. How can we trust the franchisees, they asked. What if they steal our chickens? What if they don't work hard? It's a valid concern.

We can't assure them that the franchisees are worthy of their trust, but we can provide Christina and Miguel the opportunity to meet any potential franchisees before committing to move forward with the project. After all, they are the ones who need to trust their franchisees; not us.

They also spoke about assuming additional risk by bringing outsiders into their already-successful operation.

And they shared with us the story of a woman who had found business success, only to be poisoned to death by envious clients.

I was glad that they shared these fears with us. Their sharing signaled that they trust us enough to be honest with us. It also signaled that they're engaging the proposal seriously enough to properly weigh its risks and benefits.

I'm not an expert at reading this foreign culture. It had occurred to me that their response might be the polite, indirect way of turning down our proposal, but I don't think so. And neither did our interpreter.

A second step forward.

Next, we have to bring the idea back to the church leaders. If they again demonstrate reticence, we may have to build some momentum by proving the concept using a more willing group of people, in a different village.

* * * * *

As we wrapped up the meeting and were about to begin our drive back into the city, Miguel walked around back of his house and soon re-emerged with a live chicken under his arm. A gift to express his appreciation for us and our work. We politely declined their generous offer, sheepishly admitting that we didn't know how to prepare a live chicken.

His wife laughed at us, and insisted that we return to their house some day to feast on that chicken together. She would even teach us how to kill and prepare it. I will never turn down an invitation to a barbecue, but I hope next time to bring with me several potential franchisees to share the feast and begin building the bonds of trust.

Wedding Bells in Khongolote

Wedding bells chimed in Mozambique for Paulo and Olga this weekend, figuratively speaking, anyway, and Laura and I travelled to Khongolote to witness the nuptuals.

The wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin at 11:30am. On our way to the ceremony, our colleague Melvin, who was driving us, got a telephone call from Raul, hoping we could give him a ride. That would save him the trouble of catching a chapa (the local minivan transit service). Even though it was already 11:10am and Khongolote was another 30 minutes away, we circled back to pick him up.

When we finally arrived at noon, we were surprised to find the wedding had already started. Meetings never run on time, and even less so weddings. In fact, weddings are notoriously late in part because the groom must first make a trip to the provincial capital of Matola to take care of the legal documentation. The length of the wait at the government office in Matola is unpredictable.

Weddings also tend to run long. We witnessed some potential causes for that: first there were the congregation members who felt that certain songs needed to be sung. They would just start belting them out from their pews, and everyone would happily join along. Almost everyone. Even in Africa, some people were seen rolling their eyes.

Next were the people who walked to the front of the church to provide miniature soliloquys. Since they were in Shangaan, we didn't know what wisdom the speakers were imparting on the newlyweds, but hoots and guffaws from the benches were common. The presiding church leader stood up and sat down several times, unsure of what would happen next.

The wedding included an interesting mix of African and western elements. The bride wore a wedding dress which is shared around the community for such occasions. Same for the suits that the men wore. And there was an exchange of wedding bands which, since I've yet to see anyone wearing rings, were likely borrowed as well.

We stayed after the ceremony for the reception, which was a late lunch of rice, beans, and chicken or fish. A guest on my right found a chicken foot in his rice. A guest on my left received the glare of a fish's head staring up at him from his bowl. Everyone had generous portions: nobody would leave hungry on this day.

The guests of honour at the head table received special luxuries, like bottles of Coke and Fanta. The children were overjoyed that they were treated with the leftovers.

All of the guests were packed tightly into rows of the ubiquitous blue benches. Weddings are fancy, but the community has limits. The guests ate out of plastic bowls, which we balanced on our laps since we didn't have tables. Most of us were given one piece of cutlery to use. There wasn't enough to go around, so some people used their fingers.

After the meal, gifts were presented to the couple by groups of people singing and dancing their way to the head table. The gifts were simple: a group of a dozen women purchased a box of patio glasses, and each woman presented one glass to the couple. Another group presented a set of pots and pans; each woman carrying a pot, or a pan, or a lid, or a spoon.

The newly-wed couple have been socialized not to smile at such a serious affair as a wedding, though their guests had a boisterous time.

At the end of the celebration, the couple was chauffered away in a small white Toyota, spinning its tires on the rain-soaked mud roads. We followed behind in a four-by-four truck, going very slowly. When Melvin, who was driving our truck, suggested passing the bride and groom, the Mozambicans in our car were shocked. Pass a bride and groom on their wedding day? Bad luck, I guess.

We turned down a side street and sped away.

A Spirited Opposition

Late last week, I presented our chicken farming strategy to a gathering of Mozambican church leaders. We try to work through this group, encouraging them to take ownership of projects rather than doing them ourselves, empowering Mozambicans to help Mozambicans.

We try to "lead from the side," building their leadership capacity, hoping to work ourselves out of a job. If these leaders aren't willing to endorse our projects, we reason, then neither will they take sufficient responsibility over them to ensure their success.

Strangely enough, the prospect of facing these $1-a-day men caused my heart to beat a little harder than normal. It was reminiscent of the countless times that I've sat across a table from a committee of high-powered Cabinet ministers back home presenting recommendations for the direction of our province. In both cases, I must admit to a little anxiety.

And in both cases, the scrutiny was trying. The questions they asked were difficult, and they didn't always like my answers. I wished that I had've done a little more homework. There's always a little more to do.

On some level, I was glad for their combativeness. Had I expected to come riding in on a horse from stage right to save the poor Africans from their plight? They are still living, breathing, critically-thinking human beings.

For hours they asked questions. I tried to understand in Portuguese, and asked for translation when I needed to catch a nuance. I usually responded in English, because the translator had a better chance of accurately conveying my thoughts.

Maybe the translation was the problem. Not the words, but the barrier of suspicion that naturally divides people speaking through the help of an intermediary. I wished I had've spoken fluent Portuguese. Or Shangaan. At least the translator was an insider, known to the group and myself.

Their questions seemed to boil down to plain selfishness. We were presenting a proposal for franchised chicken farms to benefit the communities in which their churches are located. Not restricted to church members, and certainly not restricted to church leaders.

They wanted to redesign the program to deliver employment opportunities for themselves.

And they didn't want to take a loan from an arms-length micro-credit organization. Their reasons were numerous, many valid. The subtext was that they wanted us to provide the money, no interest required, and no risk required. We wouldn't force repayment because we're a Christian organization, they silently reasoned.

All of their criticisms were carefully addressed in a business plan that we had prepared for their input. Sure, micro-credit interest rates are high, for example, but the plan takes that into account and still shows a resonable profit for owner-workers.

Their counter-proposal, not so much spoken as implied, was that they would take our money, try their hands at raising chickens, and if they ever found themselves better off than us, they could give us our money back. They pressed for a handout.

* * * * *

Knowing that many of them wouldn't have had eaten yet that day, I brought a bag full of oranges and passed them around. The group then passed around a machete that they used to peel the oranges, and threw their peels into a plastic bucket in the centre of the ring of blue wooden benches that we were perched atop. (Ok, so there were some differences between this meeting and the Cabinet committee meetings back home!)

I brought one orange too few, so didn't take one myself. The man beside me, generous in spirit and seeing me as an equal, peeled his orange, broke it in two, and offered me half.

These are people with big hearts, but imbued with a strong survival instinct. After all, they are hungry and poor. In their situation, I can't say that I wouldn't press for a handout with an equal amount of zeal.

In fact, they probably interpret my unwillingness to capitulate and provide a gift as my own lack of a generous spirit.

To many, providing a handout may seem like a logical response to economic injustice in Africa, especially when poverty is viewed as a lack of resources. Isn't the best way to fight poverty to do so with money?

But handouts don't empower people to help themselves in the long-run. Worse, they're not even neutral, but sap the motivation to take necessary and healthy risks required to get ahead. Having received handouts in the past, they expect handouts to continue in the present. Anything less than a direct gift is rejected.

Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus, in his autobiography, "Banker to the Poor," makes the following statement about the applicability of micro-credit in contexts with a strong social safety net:

[M]y great nemesis is the tenacity of the social welfare system. Over and over, [micro-credit projects] have run into the same problem: recipients of a monthly handout from the government ... calculate the amount of welfare money and insurance coverage they would lose by becoming self-employed and conclude the risk is not worth the effort. (Yunus, pp 189-90).

In Mozambique, there is no government social safety net, but handouts from foreign governments and non-governmental organizations, including our own, have created the same mix of dependency, complacency and expectancy.

In the long-run, people will benefit from being empowered to help themselves. But the prospect of not receiving another handout is a bitter pill that they're being asked to swallow.

* * * * *

In a gesture to ensure that relationships were preserved in the face of the difficult meeting, one of the church leaders came up to me afterwards and apologized for the feisty spirit of the group. "But it was your own fault," he said. "Your oranges gave us energy."

And then, to make sure I knew he was joking he added, "Next time, bring ice cream."

100 Days

Today is our 100th day in Mozambique. In some ways, it is hard to imagine that 100 days have passed already. In other ways, it seems that we've been here a lifetime.

After a new president or prime minister has taken office, he or she is often asked to sit down and reflect upon the first 100 days of their mandate. Time to take stock.

Following that time-honoured tradition, I woke up early this morning and peeked outside. No media trucks. I checked my phone for messages. No interviews scheduled.

Just as well, I suppose. But that doesn't mean that I can't pause here and take stock of these first 100 days.

My temptation is to zoom out and look at the macro-view first. In what tangible, lasting way have I changed the continent in these first 100 days? Or at least improved the future of this country?

Sounds unrealistic, doesn't it? A little ridiculous. Yet that's the standard we hold our political leaders to, and one that has been engrained in me. Our western culture teaches us to "swing for the fence", and to "catch the big fish." We glorify large-scale success.

I beat myself up for not having solved an intractable, complicated problem that milions of people and billions of dollars have been chipping away at for generations.

A healthier perspective is to zoom in and focus on the micro-view. In what ways have being here had an impact on someone's life?

How have I moved the yardsticks forward for one person in Mozambique?

How have I moved the yardsticks forward for one person back home?

And how have I moved them forward in my own life?

Some skeptics may think that's a cop-out; that I'm lowering expectations to ensure that I'm able to meet them. I don't see it that way at all.

And the lady with the fruitstand down the street doesn't see it that way, either. The one who smiles and waves every day, and who is pleased to sell me tomatoes and green peppers, but only after she asks me about my day and if my parents are healthy.

I came to Mozambique to bring poverty relief through economics. I came hoping to leave lives in a bit better state. I came so that people might see that I love them because God first loved me.

And no doubt, I will leave having accomplished some of that.

But there's nothing more enriching in African culture than the value of personal relationships. (And that's a hard and tiring lesson for this introvert to learn!)

I would be foolish to try to fight poverty but forsake the poor.

What has changed in these first 100 days? Perhaps nothing so great as my perspective on people in poverty.