Ny Mpangalatra…. December 28, 2015 - January 3, 2016 Welcome to another wonderful—maybe not— week in Madagascar…. On Sunday, Ron and I drove about 70 kilometers (3 hrs) from Tana to attend church in Moramanga. They have a tiny little branch—maybe 20 people. There are no missionaries assigned to the area since the Area Presidency decided to focus the missionaries in the centers of strength, so the mission tries to support them with attendance whenever we can.

Of course they were thrilled to have us and we became the sacrament meeting speakers—which makes one wonder what they would have done had we not been there:) President Lalari from the Mission Presidency was also there and he speaks very good English—served his mission in Provo—so we had a translator. 1 of 5

This area is the beginning of the rain forest, so this is the area the nasty charcoal comes from. It is everywhere—

Taxi buses and carts come along and haul the charcoal to Tana for cooking on the little charcoal pots. We are convinced this would be a different country without all the charcoal pollution. It’s the first thing we smell in the morning and the last thing we smell at night.

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We have really struggled with this next story. On one hand, for our journal, we want to represent everything that happens to us. On the other hand, we want to encourage other senior couples to come to Africa and especially Madagascar. With that preface…. Last Tuesday, Ron and I started out on our regular walk about 5:30am. I think I remember saying, I am never scared in the mornings because the crazies are only out at night. We were walking through the middle of a market that was being set up for the day. It was very crowded so we were walking single file with Ron a few steps in front of me—this is a place we walk every single day with people we are beginning to know. All of a sudden, I felt someone way too close to me, so I instinctively put my hand in my pocket to grab my phone. As I put my hand in my pocket so did he. I had a better grip on the phone and was hanging on as hard as I could. But, he was very determined. We grappled with each other, and as his face got very close to mine, I bit the cartilage part of his ear as hard as I could and held on. I am sure it hurt, but it also made him very angry. With his free hand, he slammed my face into the concrete. I screamed and he wrested the phone out of my hand. As I screamed, Ron turned around and ran back to grab him, and help me. But, the bad guy was probably in his early twenties and Ron is not. Ron lunged at him, he dodged, Ron hit the pavement, got up and tried to catch him, but no chance. So he came back to me and here we are two old people lying in the road with no phone. The surprising thing is that we were surrounded by people who see us every day, and no one tried to help us or help Ron grab him. We later learned that we violated one of the first rules of being a missionary— especially here— and that is never, never tousle with a mpangalatra (thief)—just give him whatever he wants. At the time, that option did not come to mind. There was no permanent damage done, but we have both been very sore—and, I have had a perma-headache. I think I am too old to come into direct contact with the asphalt. These are the last pictures in this blog post because my phone is gone. These were taken by my iPad which I will never take out of my apartment:)

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The good news is that we think we can replace the iPhone on Monday—for an exorbitant price, of course. I do know I can’t live without it, but I will never carry it in my pocket again.

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We are still grateful to be serving here. This is a hard place for people to live. The government is corrupt—some kind a of turmoil is going on now and the garbage has not been picked up for weeks—and thugs can run wild in the streets in broad daylight unimpeded. The Malagasies we know said no one helped because they might have been afraid of retribution.

We actually feel sorry for a young man who sees no options for his life other than theft. He was willing to hurt me for the money my phone would bring—so sad.

We are grateful for the gospel in our lives and the opportunity to be part of sharing it here in a place that needs it so much.

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