Wow, its been a very long time since I wrote a post on this blog. Partially because I was catching up on life in America and this is a blog for my Mozambican experiences and partially I don't even know where to start with my thoughts and understanding of that time against the backdrop of my current place in life.
It seems surreal that this was me ten months ago. It seems like yesterday and forever ago at the same time. There are so many things that I miss.
It would be an understatement to say that I miss my dear, dear Mozambican family. That was a hard goodbye and is hard to think that I'll never see them again this side of heaven. We shared so many sweet times together. Playing soccer, participating in dance rehearsal for church, cooking together, playing hopscotch, teaching English and learning Makua, etc. etc.
I miss the simple but real interactions. The genuine smiles. The complete attention during conversation that was undistracted by technology. I remember one of the ten year old boys coming down to the warehouse to get some rice for his home. The men that worked at the warehouse knew his name and were joking around with him as if they were uncles or his father--which he didn't have. It was one of my favorite memories because those guys cared and I could see on that little boys face that he was happy to be included. I guess its a universil thing that we just want to be known and included, right?
I miss church. I miss the joy on each person's face as they sang those songs at the top of their lungs and danced and clapped. I miss the kids grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the aisle to dance with them. One day one of the mothers tied her foster son on my back. I felt accepted and like a true Mozambicana at that moment and I was elated.
I miss the morning AWANA program every day. Playing with the kids and cheering them on and then joining in as we sang and Carlitos Jorge gave the lesson. He cared for those kids in a fatherly way; I know they knew that he cared.
It seems like simple and genuine interaction is a recurring theme. It is. It is a much more rare here. Myself included. I often have an agenda in my conversations or I'm not listening because I'm planning what I'm going to say next.
I miss wearing the same four outfits everyday. Seriously. I loved those outfits and its so much simpler! We dressed like the people and they seemed to love it. Especially when my hair was braided in cornrows, I would get a lot of compliments!
In retrospect, its been a crazy adjustment back to life here. Trying to reconcile my life there with the one I had/have here. There have been lots of tears and frustrations and joy. I'm thankful for family and friends who have listened to countless Mozambican memories while listening and encouraging me as I adjust to what it looks like to be an American again and adjust to the culture here.
So while that was a beautiful, awesome experience. This one is too, I just have to have eyes to see the people around me. They also need someone to genuinely care for them. There are a few more things in process, but those will be discussed in a later post...
Que Deus os abençoe
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