pass the parcles

I have borrowed the next-door orphanages’ sewing machine that I fixed for them to make a large lounge-chair cushion for Heathers’ newly constructed lounge chair, and in the process I offered to sew up a boys ripped shorts… and well, before I knew it I was down to serious business… well could have been in business if I was charging for my work. Countless of ripped crotches, and armpits later, I decided to resign for the day > a sitting job, even if it is a creative and constructive job, seems to be a difficult one for me. So I went ‘passear’ing (passing time / strolling) with some boys. Through tall grass, rice patties, and local dirt roads, we followed the sound of children screaming and cheering. We came upon the excitement, which turned out to be a monkey tied to a tree! Standing on its hind legs, its head reached to my hip. This monkey was absolutely hilarious and scary at the same time. The kids had a kick and a half provoking it, going closer to it so it would run at them with outstretched arms and a kid would jump out of the way just in time so the rope would stop the monkey in mid-jump. This monkey is a clever little beast and would play dead then wait till the kids would go close and it suddenly would get up and attack, once clawing and almost biting a little kids leg and another time closely scratching one kids face almost their eyes! David (Dah-veed-ee)… our little rascal at KEDESH >He has this mischievous look on his face and his laugh adds to the ‘bad boy’ look. He has a reputation and is proud of it (e.g. before new years, he got a hold of fire crackers and threw it in a toilet tank, blowing it up). Being the sort of ringleader of the mob of children, he stood in easy reach of this wild, but tied up monkey. He must have some kind of bond or understanding with it, because it would pick up his toes, then feet, inspect them without biting them, then slowly climb up his pant leg and unbutton his track pants, then go back to attacking the other children around David. It is easy to see that the other little boys have almost a fear but great appreciation for David and his dear-devil ways.

It has been 5 months in Mozambique, and I still am seeing the way things happen here at the most simple and most complicated angles.
The understanding of the chapa system, and how one fills it up to its MAXimum capacity is a major part of everyday adventures. It is important to know to follow the same general rule of filling up the back seat first, then the next one up and etc. When getting off a chapa, personal space does NOT exist, and if you want to keep your place, simply shift your position so the person (not matter how large or old) in the far backseat corner can climb overtop everyone in the way and get out the side door.

Music is always blown to full potential, then cranked up one more notch to sound-distortion, so that all who want to hear (or not) are able. Some nights when sleep is needed, this generosity is less then appreciated.
Young boys wait and watch on the sidelines of the shaggy, hand-cut field to bear the ‘bling’ of older boys playing soccer. For the 90 minutes, the little boys take the opportunity to play dress-up and show off the goods the older boys entrusted then, weather a phone, dangly necklace, or oversized sandals.

Peeping around the corner of a shed and seeing boys congregating, young to old, splitting open a jackfruit with an enchada and sharing the sticky innards. This fruit and its strong distinct smell, as well as the laughing of on-going stories can only lure in more passer-byers’. After the peculiar but delicious fruit has disappeared, the passing around of petroleum to wash gluey hands is shared.

Food is a luxury. Wealth is not only seen from the pockets of a person, or the cloths that are worn but also by the size of… well their behinds. People, no matter how little they have, love to give. Gifts of appreciation. Usually these gifts consist of one or too ripe mangoes or other assorted fruits. For me, these gifts are always welcome and highly appreciated. My mouth has been opened to so many new tastes and tangs; each day thinking I have tried every possible thing and a new season starts and a whole new batch of flavors are discovered.

Kids know how to live the good life. Lately, I have been spending good quality time with the younger boys. Sitting on a cement wall under a giant, over-hanging jaca tree to our left and a mango tree to our right, with a mandioc and avocado plot to oversee in front of us. I go to join the sitting-wall line, and all watch curiously as I sit on the end position, but before I know it, the line is rearranged and I have boys on either side anxiously telling traditional stories of Mozambique and local old-wives-tales. A jackfruit passes up and down the line, each grabbing one parcel from the stringy, gluey carcass and passing it to their neighbor. After retiring for lunch I am given a lesson of Ndau as we sit on a bamboo matt making lemon aid (they like it STRONG > simply fresh squeezed lemon juice and sugar), passing the jar around and laughing at each other’s faces pucker up. Quality.