Saturday, January 28, 2006

rambling thoughts

Music is everywhere. I can speak poetically about nautres ancient sounds the stiffiling silence of her humidity the crack of devilish thunders so powerfully adult jump in fear of falling in to the abyss below. rain, no thte gentle summers rain that mists the landscape, we are talking rain that comes with urgency afterthe incessant prayers of farmers whose livelyhood depends on a WET rainy season. The droplets smash into the ground with authority to penetrate the very roots of every plant. The rain dances on my tin roof... A sound I can only equate to a full percussion orchestra. and as quickly as the glorious storm ascends it descents, and we are left with only the brief moments of a cool breeze, which we savor, like the last piece of chocolate. Unwrapping it slowly, inhaling deeply, gently wrapping our tounge around its sweetness, enjoying savoring each moment with restraint... until it diesengrates into an aftertaste a memory. Soon enough the humidity will build again she will show her mercy through another one of her fantastic displays.

But I falter and fell into a Robert Frost like description of music and nature... So the music here... Music is continuous here, ringing out from churches, young girls clapping to make a beat to move their bodies too, bomboxes blair Americas newest rappers. There is a sound track to every moment, it begins a 6 am... woken up to 'Lonely, I'm so Lonely' (a Mocambiquan favorite)... The Mamas rise from their straw mat beds, cover there curvaciious bodeis in capulanas, bueatifully woven sheets of fabric that are the standdard dress, and begin their daily routines to the agressive voices of american rappers talking about hardship in the ghetto... There bare feet shuffel over cement or dirt flours to collect bacias to make the daily trip for water, then they begin cleaning there house. dropping to there hands and knees with a warn piece of clothing scrubbing the ground and every service. By this time the men and the children are rousing and she begins to prepare breakfast, reheating last nights dinner rice topped with assorted foloage on the coal oven,. the carry out these daily tasks singing the words of 50 cent, but they dont know that there are black people in america. they dont understand the americas history drips with the blood of there people, they cannot see the social injustices, corruption, economic hardship...how could they, in america we have running, kids have food to eat, shoes to wear, books to read, school is free.... its hard to explain cross cultural diffrences when your country offers and people take for granted lifes necessities that people work so hard here for.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Write me letters!

My new mailing address>>>

chelsea keyser
caixa postal number 717
beira sofala

*dont worry, you dont need a zip code*

The shortlist of what I appreciate about Mocambique

1. There is no social disgrace or harm in picking your nose in public places or during conversation. On the contrary, it is highly encouraged to alleviate itchy nostrils or unsightly buggers in a timely fashion no matter the location or circumstance.

2. You are expected to great each person you see, children included, with the time appropriate, boa dia;tarde;noite, and off course inquire about their health, their families health, and how they slept. There is a rhythm to the conversation with expected answers. People are patient the cadence is slow, and strangely endearing.

3. People know how to stroll, in fact there are only tow speed ins Mocambique, slow and slower. I actually had to train myself in the mocambiquan pace, by seeking out the slowest waling mamas, stepping in pace behind them, restraining myself not to pass on the left. There are some serious benefits to strolling
a. You don't sweat as much.
b. You have more time to great more people
c. People have nothing to do in moçcambique, so walking slowly helps the day go by quicker,how'ss that for logic.

4. It is perfectlyacceptablee toentertaina guest in complete silence. People are continuallystoppingg by my house, we sit together in plastic lawn chairs on my Veranda, exchange pleasentries, and if there is nothing else t say, wedon'tt say anything at all. Strangely refreshing.

5. People are direct... Nao faz mal *its all good or you did no wrong* It is acceptable to openly discuss physical imperfections, weight, but hereit'ss a bad thing if your too skinny, so but that in your ceramictoilett bowlAmericaa, unsightly blemishes, unusually largeappendagess, were talking about the human head , you perverts. Also there is no shame of disgrace in talking about physical deformities scars, limps, missingappendagess *many people have missing legs arms due to land mine explosions* many conversations start with What happended to your... Anything visible to the naked eye is fair game for coversation.

6. The common way of carrying objects, any size, weight, or shape is on top of your head. Enough said. *YES, People I am finally able to carry buckets of water on my head!!!

7. Moçcambiquan time, or lack ther off. Events will start 2 hours after the intended time, you cannot expect people to commit to meeting at a specific hour, your best bet is to narrow it down between de manha or tarde, and lastly if you wait long enough what ever you arwearingng for, person or info, will come, sometimes it is a mater of days. It is like living in a romantics dream. Life is not governed by the hands of time but rather the whims of peoples needs and desires.... it is quite likely that you will see Moçambiquan time in the soon to come shortlist frustrationsons with moçambiquan culture....

8. Friends, family, collegues, and aquitences demonstrate their fondness and appreciation for eachother through hand holding. It shockingking at first to see men of all ages holding hands as they walked down the street, but i have grown to love it.

9. There is no polite, non self promoting, pompousmpus, or assinine way of putting this. But i hear gosta voce, adora voce, exc, exc on average once a day. While I realize Moçcambiquan men view my white skin as a dollar sign of flashing opportunity, it certainly does help the self esteem to have different men, some quite attractive, falling in love with me every day. And that is all i will say on that point.

10. I pay 5 cents for a bottle of coke, and best of all they recycle and reuse the bottles! Yes environmentalistsalist in me livs on... i am biting my tounge, ok not really, about how coke practically owns moçambique, but why not support the tenets of capitalism and globaliazation while living in a 3rd world country... ok to make myself clear, i am being completely facious.