There is a place where I left a piece of my heart.
A place where the water runs backwards, on the underside of the world. A place where the time passes more slowly and where days are born painted with burning fire and the nights have a warm mellow rhythm. A place with an earthy scent and a sea flavor. Where physical and spiritual world cohabit. A place where I always return to, without having yet returned.
When I arrived in Mozambique I stayed in Maputo, its largest city and capital. It was my first trip to the southern hemisphere and it was a relief to realize that people do not walk upside down over there. When I went out on my own for the first time, I sat down on a coffee terrace drinking a beer and watching them, looking out for that difference so fearsome that made us cautiously carry a bag full of prejudices and advices, clearly exaggerated and distanced from the reality of these people and this country, as I was to find out soon enough.
Of course there is danger. Some danger specific to this territory and its natural history, and also pertaining to its human history, which has left some deep scars that continue to hurt. Others perils are just the same as in any part of the planet inhabited by man.
The people I met there are not so different, if we were living in the same circumstances. Moreover, the people that live there gave me hope. Because they made me believe that human being are mostly good. In their core, people are not evil. What corrupts them, so often, is greed.
In Mozambique I found the most good-hearted people I have ever met. People with so little but with bountiful generosity, and a contagious smile and a strength that I fail to describe.
So I gave in fully to that land, as if I had always belonged there. Flip-flops on my feet, shorts and t-shirt, there I found myself “maningue feliz”, meaning that I was truly “very happy”. And there is no better way to learn the stories of the people of Mozambique than to take a walk on foot through the city and its street markets.
Initially, when we hear some of their stories, we cannot avoid a huge willingness to try to help all people in need or with different life situations. And we are increasingly frustrated by the impossibility of being able to do so. This feeling worsens when we see the generosity with which they smile at us and ask us if we need anything.
Over time I realized that there was only one way to give back, beginning by first helping those who where closest to me and showing them that we are equal, and should always fight for the same ideals.
“Estamos juntos”, which is an expression they use so many times to say “we are together”.
One of the things that caused me tremendous shock was to perceive the colonial inheritance that is still present: in the relationship of subordination with which some Mozambicans, who work for Portuguese families or high cadres of expatriates, continue to lower themselves; and in the rituals of vassalage that, even today, are perpetuated by their “bosses” who consider it normal to maintain a difference in treatment and a distance towards their help.
“You know, you should not give them too much trust, because they abuse and will want more.” Or “It’s no use trying to teach them, because they’re stupid and do not want to learn.”
The first time I went out to buy some groceries with Victoria, the girl who worked at our home, I asked her to stop at a coffee shop to drink some juice, because it was a very hot day. And I’ll never forget how much I had to struggle to make her come inside to sit with me and just talk for a while, without her feeling uncomfortable or thinking she could be punished for it. These episodes with Victoria happened over and over again, until the day that she stopped looking at the ground, or keeping a distance of two meters, whenever she was talking to me, and finally started feeling more comfortable to share her thoughts and friendship.
I will also never forget how after offering a ticket to the film premiere of the film festival I worked for to Sitoe, the taxi driver with whom every single day I had lively conversations about the daily news, he countered the opinion of those who said he would never have interest in appearing, when on the next day he commented about the film “I did not know that you (white people) had suffered so much from PIDE (a dictatorship police) as well.” I explained to him that in every country, regardless of their politics, there are those who oppose against dictators and oppressors and fight for the same human rights. And, therefore, there should not be so many clashes between races or cultures, but a brotherhood and common understanding that we are all human and that we should all be treated with the same respect and consideration.
These and many other strong friendships that I made in Mozambique, during the four months of my stay, have made me more aware of the importance of their expression “Estamos juntos”.
In a place where life seems to be so fragile and such large part of the population are still living in the strongest forms of poverty, I also learned from them to appreciate life in the smallest details and to live in a more relaxed way.
Despite their circumstances, Mozambicans face the future with great hope and a smile on their lips, or as they usually say “Há-de vir” (“it will come”), even though we might not exactly know what will come or when: they use this phrase for most everyday situations, meaning something that can happen in a few minutes, hours, days, months or in an indefinite time; but also use it referring to that so much desired future which no one can predict.
So while we’re there, we indulged ourselves in this belief, that something good would happen, drinking a black Laurentina (most famous beer in Mozambique) and striving to follow the frantic pace of Marrabenta (their popular dance) under that starry sky that seemed so close. This was the place where I left a significant piece of my heart. And where I have learned that we might as well still dance while waiting for a better future, under the tropical rain or sometimes stormy weather. I truly believe it…It will come Mozambique! It will come.
