Stories worth sharing

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I can’t write anything here without mentioning the 17 year old girl I just met. She takes care of her younger siblings all by herself and is determined to finish school and become a nurse. Keeping orphan children in school here is not easy, but the four siblings all study and they all have dreams, and I’m trying hard not to be too sentimental but that little family made me keep my breath.

The photo above is of a girl I met earlier today while talking to some children that also go to a school here in Chibuto.

The interactive part of today’s work has just ended and we’re on our way back to that guesthouse off the grid where I will try to compile all my impressions and chaotic notes in English, Portuguese and Shangana into stories I can actually share.

Out of reach

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So it seems I will be staying in a place where I’m off the grid. That’s less nightly blogs for you and more sleep and isolation for me. Now we’re going to a place where we can find food so I might have network at some point to publish this. Here’s a photo of the big car with the antenna again, and a glimpse of the driver.

I’m in the midst of deciding whether to go to Europe for a week or not, it’s a very expensive and complicated trip but my contract with UNICEF got extended so if I don’t go now I won’t be able to go before sometime in December. What do you say?

Ser valiente y aprender

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Our fridge in Barcelona once got crowned by an improvised poem by dearest Carmen from Venezuela.

I don’t know why, but the fridge poetry somehow triggers my thoughts about having my own place. A place to live in, own, and decorate. First of all, I would invest in a good sound system, because sound is number one. And I would get an LP player, because there really is something about vinyl. I would make sure all my gadgets were interconnected and I would finally hang up that huge, beautiful hammock I once bought in Bolivia. I would buy strange art and expensive shampoo and spoil myself with things one just can’t prioritize when living somewhere only for a short period of time. I would get many more of those huge tea cups I love, and stock up with many kinds of nice tea. And then I would always, always have a place for friends to come and visit. For a cup of tea, or for staying an entire month. Porque la vida es dar y recibir. And you know I love you tons.


Writing this made me dream about the discs I would want to have on LP. The first one’s that came to my mind were Moon Safari by Air, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis and Little Girl Blue by Nina Simone. I would try to get hold of Hurry up, We’re Dreaming by M83, and I would of course get Purple Rain by Prince, just because that show still beats all concerts I have ever been to.

Archives, love, and a glass of wine.

Had a quick look through my photo archives, just like recommended in the handbook for professional procrastinators.

Found some golden moments, here’s one of them:

I was 15, he was 16, and we felt like we never ever would be able to live without each other. Our parents didn’t agree, neither did the very different realities we came from. It was us against the world and we fought it for three years until it all ended with goodbye’s full of tears as fate pulled us apart against our will. You know the feeling, right? That’s just the way pure and overwhelming puppylove is supposed to feel.

Now back to my veggieburgers, work and a glass of wine. Tomorrow I will be sleeping somewhere in Gaza. Let’s do this.

All the Big Trees

Just came back to Maputo after five days in the field, but I will only be staying for one day. This Saturday night is thus dedicated to recharging my energy, eating chocolate and washing clothes. Tomorrow I have to run shopping for some of the things I had stolen from my luggage. (My razor, seriously?) On Monday morning we leave again, this time to Gaza province. No big trees over there unfortunately, but I’m quite convinced there will be more big impressions.

Here’s a Baobab tree in Tete.

And here’s what my iPod just very suitably played for me, by the way. It’s from one of my favourite albums ever, one of those that I sleep to and that make my mind float. Only have a listen if you’re also staying in tonight, don’t hold me responsible if it suddenly puts you in a state of awe and tranquility. Boa noite.

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Jonsi & Alex – All the Big Trees
Riceboy Sleeps (2009)

Sleeping in an igloo.

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I’m in Tete, the capital of the province with the same name. It is known for being very rich in minerals, for it’s booming economy and for the presence of the Brazilian mining company that many choose to refer to as evil.

So, because of the presence of this certain business, and the very rich visitors and expensive consultants it continuously receives, the hotel prices in Tete suddenly boomed to numbers completely out of proportion to the rest of the country. We’re talking at least 200€ for a night in a single room. In a city that really doesn’t have anything to offer other than business.

So, we are staying a bit outside, in a place where one pays 60€ for a private igloo-like house. And I love it. It’s exactly what I needed after four days of running around in Shangara with kids pulling my hair, tons of sand in my eyes, mosquito horrors, nothing but xima with chicken to eat and one of the most uncomfortable beds I have ever slept in.

I am taking the flight back to Maputo tomorrow afternoon and decided that I will take the evening off tonight. So after spoiling myself with a long shower and some really good food in a restaurant overlooking the river, I found myself in the WFP compound where I met friends I had only emailed with so far, and a very charismatic Chilean woman who also works for the UNICEF and who I met on my first night in Changara. It’s such a shame when great people are hidden like this in the middle of nowhere. Come to Maputo!

Tomorrow I will continue working. Wait, what? It’s already Friday? Weekends don’t exist in the field, especially not when you’re doing something you’re enjoying. Frankly, I can’t wait to get back to my computer, but I deserve this sleep and I really deserved that perfect fish fillet. Yum.

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Day 3 in Changara

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The days start very early and end late in Changara. I have been running around from school to school, noting down a million thoughts, dreams and names in my little notebook. Other than that, I have been touched by the stories of young people, watched an important theatre show, and filled half of my 16GB SD card with photos. My little obsession with having order in my files definitely pays off in moments like this.

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I get so happy when work is intense like this. It suddenly feels much more meaningful than when sitting in an office. Also, I have during this short time learnt far more about the work of UNICEF and the situation in Mozambique than I ever could have in the office. Changara district in Tete province is one of the poorest in Mozambique. This place takes poverty beyond what I have seen of poverty before.

I will tell you more about Changara, the Child Friendly Schools initiative and my work with the UNICEF at some other point. Now, I’ll do just a little bit more of writing and then use my headphones and some Brian Eno to block out the loud party outside of my window. I have to make sure I get some sleep. Another long and intense day tomorrow.

Anyway, here’s my tired face for you. Boa noite!

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F1- Racing for blood.

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The horror of listening to a whole bunch of mosquitoes hovering around your net in a malaria prone area. They sound like very hungry and slightly deadly Formula 1 cars, and they are some sneaky bastards with the noted ability to squeeze into your safety zone. Is it on the inside or on the outside? Oh, and they can sit on the net so you don’t even want to have your big toe touching it. However, if you’re patient and skilled enough, that’s your chance to kill them. Heeere mozzie, mozzie, mozzie!

I’ve always been paranoid about mosquitoes since I was very allergic to their bites as a kid. One of my favourite childhood memories is when me and my mom, armed with indoor shoes, would go for a mosquito hunt in the middle of the night. We both have a very sharp sense of hearing and would never accept sleeping in the same room as a mosquito. Now I have to. And I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m not happy having to break this tradition.

Wow, they really do sound angry, and they all have different sounds, which makes it sound like a proper F1 race, I guess this is ze race for blooood.