The Alchemist

I’ve started reading “The Alchemist,” and I’m really enjoying it. People in Nacaroa think I’m crazy for leaving the US to come here, and don’t understand at all why I like it. No matter how much I try to explain that ever since I can remember I always wanted to live in other countries and learn other languages and experience other cultures they just think I’m crazy. The main character in The Alchemist is just like me. According to this book, everyone has a Personal Legend, which is what you’ve always wanted to do and are destined to do, and the universe always conspires to help the people that try achieve their Personal Legends.

When I first got here I was constantly thinking of interesting and exciting things to write about on my blog, but I didn’t have a way to write and post stuff. Now that I have my computer, electricity, and the internet, I’m used to living here so things don’t seem so interesting and exciting anymore, they’re just normal now. It’s been almost exactly a year since I left the US.

Daycare centers and babysitters don’t really exist here, at least not in the same way that they do in the US. Women who have babies bring them to school/work with them. They also have a relative or neighbor, usually a girl 7-10 years old, come with them to help take care of the baby. As a result, the school is full of female students who are constantly coming and going from the classroom to take care of their babies, young girls who miss years of school to care for other people’s children, and teachers who breastfeed while they’re teaching. One of these teachers is a good friend of mine, and whenever I have a free period I love playing with her baby, who will be 6 months on my birthday! Anyway, one day while my friend was teaching I asked the girl who cares for her baby to help me tie her on my back with a cloth the way African women carry their children. Man, the students and teachers really got a kick out of seeing that! They all asked why I didn’t already have a baby, told me that I should have one, and that when I go back to America I should teach everyone how to carry babies in clothes on their backs.

My English Theater group performed for the school today. I was really impressed with how well they did; no one forgot their lines, and scene changes that had not always gone smoothly at rehearsals were flawless. There’s a song about HIV that’s part of the performance, and afterwards others students at the school were singing the chorus. We rehearse in a pavilion in the village, so there’s always tons of kids watching, and the kids know almost the whole song and the motions, despite not being able to understand a word of it.

Before I left the US I was thinking that I would be a teacher when I got back. Now I think I’ll be a soap opera writer. I’m pretty sure I could write a good 3 seasons not just BASED on Nacaroa, but literally EXACTLY what goes on here. Now that I’ve gotten to know people better I’m learning all sorts of secrets about who’s dating who, who’s pregnant with who’s baby, who’s cheating on who with who, and so on.

And of course, I have to write about rats. One time my parents asked me if rat poison was available and affordable here. It is. “Why don’t Mozambicans put out rat poison so they don’t have a live with rats?” they asked. I told them Mozambicans didn’t really seem to mind rats. I was at Sambo’s the other day, and the student that lives with him, Gildo, was moving around some reed mats. A rat appeared. Gildo shrieked with excitement, grabbed a shoe, and starting chasing it. It ran outside, but Gildo kept chasing, and it ended up running back inside, and then back outside, and then escaped. But Gildo was smiling the entire time, and it looked like he was having as much fun as if he were playing football. I have fortunately not had any more rats in my house.