This will be my last Mozambique post. Just the chance to post up a good smattering of photos and some final funny stories. Looking back now after a week at home, I think my abiding memory will be all the hilarity we shared, sometimes in the face of adversity. We laughed, then sighed, then laughed some more.
There was the night I snored like a train, (if trains can be said to snore) how ironic that we had both taken something to help us sleep through a lot of noise outside. Poor Victoria, I slept like a log (a snoring one)!
There was the moment Victoria fell into the toilet. Naturally, I was not present but enjoyed the gales of laughter coming from the bathroom. (Surely the ability to laugh if you fall into a toilet is way up there on the list of desirable personal qualities for intrepid travellers?)
Then there was the morning Victoria actually woke both of us by laughing out loud in her dream (and some of you know how loud Victoria can laugh).
The trip to the traditional African church will also be one of the highlights: the joy and dancing, the enthusiastic testimonies, the singing, the sound system… it had it all. Including the offer of 40 mangoes for breakfast before we began! These were politely declined on our behalf as they were floating in water of an uncertain origin but the boys didn’t hold back as you can see from the photo. We took the rest back for all the other boys to enjoy.
I will also miss the pace of life, meals are taken simply but with care and attention. Not only is it too hot to go charging about but it also seems rude to be going so fast that you don’t have time to stop and pass the time of day, ask if people are well and hear their response.
‘How was your shower?’ I asked David as he came out of the bathroom on my first day back. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, it was in the same corner of the bathroom as always, I pressed the button and the water came out’! I realised that this had become a question Victoria and I had asked each other twice daily (it was so hot you needed a shower when you woke and before you slept) because it seriously mattered but back home it is a totally redundant question. Once the water supply and its temperature can be taken for granted, why bother asking?
Maybe that’s true of the many things we take for granted. Maybe we would never get anything done if we paused to comment on all the minutia of life (how was your breakfast/lunch/tea/shower/journey/walk) but asking one another if we slept well, feel well or feel cared for… yes, maybe there’s time for that.