Does Santa Come to Mozambique?

Happy holidays! Here we are on the 18th of December and you would never know that any sort of huge holiday is a mere seven days away. This is something that has been a little tough in some ways, but extremely thought-provoking as well. I would like to share some of these thoughts and reflections with you this holiday season, not with the intent to evoke any sort of guilt or defensiveness by any means, only with the hope to provide some space for further examination, questioning and a reaffirmation and return to the true heart of the season, which as I have gotten older I have come to realize is love and family.

One of the starkest realizations that one comes to when going through the holiday season in a very poor country is the inconspicuousness of it. I am used to seeing lights on houses, signs in stores, trees in living rooms and people talking about the big date everywhere I go. That doesn't exist here. None of it does. Nor does Christmas candy. Or special promotions and sales. Or Christmas carols playing on the radio or in the stores. In fact, this period of time as the rainy season just is beginning is often referred to as the "hunger time" because all the stores of crops from the last season are running out and the new ones haven't had time to grow and be harvested. In a season that I am used to celebrating by adding extra stuff, I find a crushing lack of the basic stuff here. Money. Food. Even more lacking than it normally is.

This being said, when I went to the market today to give one of the vendors there back the 40 meticais he had lent me yesterday, he and his two friends were sharing a lunch of a fish sauce and xima and they demanded that I come eat with them. The food wasn't going to fill the three of them up as it was, but they wanted me to be a part of it. There is a shortage of food at the moment, but they wanted to share what they had. Money is hard to come by, but here was a free lunch being thrust at me. I ended up politely refusing and mentioning that I had already started cooking something at home (which was true), but it still took a lot of convincing before they let me go.

This is one small example from the hundreds I have accumulated during my first 8 months in Mozambique of the love and familial bonds which are so prevalent here. If love and family are what are truly important during the holiday season, then the Mozambicans celebrate all year round!

This brings us to my last point. The important things in life don't lie in the eye-catching, expensive or complex things, they lie in the simple things. The everyday things. And when you take away the possibility and means of surrounding yourself with these flashier things, the simple things are all you are left with. I may not have my family here with me, but the love that my Mozambican family here, all of it from the market vendors to hospital employees, goes a very long way in demonstrating the essence of the Christmas spirit, if you will, that I have found myself looking for since roughly December 1st.

I want to finish by saying that I am in no way trying to say our Western Christmas traditions are bad at all. Quite the opposite! I would love to be sitting on the warm rug in front of a wood stove drinking some hot cocoa with my parents and playing a game of Banana Grms. A Christmas tree would be one of the most beautiful sights at the moment. Gifts from Santa the morning of the 25th sound like a dream. What I am saying is that it's extremely important to know why all of these different parts of Christmas and its traditions mean so much to us. It's important to ask. Is it because of family? Is it because of love? I think we will find that the vast majority of what we enjoy about the season will fall into one of these two categories. And THAT's the beautiful thing, to be able to slow down, set aside the distractions and the extra and to be able to take a moment to really and truly appreciate Christmas for what it is: a time filled with family, those closest to us and the incredible amount of love that bonds all of us together and makes it all worthwhile!

On that note, merry final days and enjoy the season; I know that I will be!

Maybe the closest thing to a Christmas tree I'll see during my time here in Mozambique, this
giant Baobab tree leaves quite the impression! 

Horizon Points - The Art of Capturing

Horizon points are arguably some of the most magnetic visions we experience on the day-to-day, always seeming to draw us in by a magnificent sunset, mountains in a distant fog or waves slowly lapping on the beach far away. That being said, we never actually arrive at them; there is always another horizon waiting when we get to the point we had earlier seen. This is one of the beautiful things about running here for me. Driving, taking a train and other means of transportation are great ways to chase the horizon, but running is an unmatched way to appreciate it.

The obvious reason for this (at least in my case) is that you are going so slow you have plenty of time to take in the same horizons as you slowly move within them. I shouldn't say "the same", because the other incredible thing about running is you are able to witness the horizons change with the lighting, days, seasons and weather. Metoro is situated in a more or less flat area of land, but to the north the elevation does go down enough to get a breathtaking view of the expansiveness of some of the Mozambican mato (bush). We have one mountain (term must be taken with a grain of salt) visible in the distance to the north and three mountains off a ways to the south. The rest is flat. What this translates into is a lot of visibility on my runs.

As you might already know, I am currently training for a marathon at Victoria Falls in July. I try to get out and run every other day. After roughly four months I am up to 12.5 kilometers, which means I'm able to get some good range on my routes. I was worried that the scenery would get boring, as my 'routes' are in fact just down and backs on a highway, but I have been pleasantly surprised by how organic and dynamic they have turned out. Here are some of the beautiful things I experience and see while I'm out there:

Smiling, waving, greeting residents on their front porches or at the wells for the first couple kilometers of my run as I slowly leave the limits of Metoro's housing. Little armies of goats crossing the road to get home. The mesmerizing glow of burning machamba (field for farming)-cleaning fires blazing off in the distance at dusk. The smell of dusty earth that has drank its fill of a recent rain. The cool drizzle of running in the rain as a giant, red sun sets in the west. Cicadas. The rustling wind through the bushes alongside the road, sliding the leaves and branches together. Women carrying large capulana (cloth) sacks full of mandioca (cassava), charcoal or bread on their heads to sell in Metoro. Men balancing tens of long, thin bamboo stalks on ancient bicycles as they creak their way into town. Many types of birds singing their unique songs to each other as the light begins to fade away. The pregnant first moments of a sunrise at 4.15 in the morning as the sky slowly begins to blush in the east. Shadows caused by the full moon. The whole expanse around Metoro leaving the brown, dry, desolation and unwrapping into a green paradise pulsing with new life and energy. Inter-city chapas (vans converted for public transport) whirring by with incomprehensible loads of baggage piled and tied onto their roofs. Stars escaping from the Milky Way and scattering into the night. A soft, humidity in the morning after a light rain the night before. Mango tree branches bowing with the weight of hundreds of dense green fruits as they begin to ripen. Acacia and Baobab trees towering over other flora in the distance while looking off to the side of the road. Three mountains climbing up from the horizon, towering over the rest of the flat, stretching landscape. A cool, flowing breeze over my face as I move towards the east and the Indian Ocean resting 88 kilometers away. A road that unravels ahead of me, twisting and turning, urging me to tack just one more kilometer onto my route today to explore around the next bend. The quiet, empty stillness of the night. The gentle, rolling waking of the world in the early morning. Serene silence with the only the tempo of your breath to guide your thoughts.

These are just a handful of the reasons to run here in Metoro, as if the idea of running a marathon around one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World next year weren't enough for motivation! Now, time to get to bed, as tomorrow I plan on trying to go for an early morning (4AM) run.