Today was beautiful—it was celebration day in Mbatwe, one of the communities we work in (celebration days happen every six months, basically big parties meant as a celebration of the progress all the families in the community have made through their family goals during that time). It started kinda slow, as it was raining off and on HARD this morning, while we were supposed to be having all our activities and distributing the prizes people had earned for their work, leaving us running around to find big pieces of black plastic that we could jerry-rig up as extra roofing to hold everyone while all the formal ceremonies took place. My job was to make sure water didn’t build up in big puddles anywhere on the impromptu plastic roof, so as to keep it from breaking and falling on everyone—even though that still happened two or three times (hey, it was a big roof). So lots of mud and wet togetherness—but the awesome kind. I’d much rather be outside doing that than inside the community center listening to the boring formalities that organizations around here are so fond of.
After the rain ended around one in the afternoon, the day became gorgeous—Care For Life had brought a stereo and started playing music, so while all the prizes were handed out, everyone else got down. Especially the kids—so there was a good few hours of dancing with big groups of little kids to Mozambican dance music. In other words, pure awesomeness.
As it moved on towards late afternoon, I had one of those moments where I just wished the relaxed happiness of that hour or so could last at least another week. The late afternoon sun was on everyone, just strong enough to be comfortingly warm after the hottest part of the day is already gone. People were milling about all over the place, dancing, waiting to pick up their prizes, and just being—kids were playing, teenagers were trying to do tricks on their parents’ bikes, people were sitting and chatting all over. Everyone was out and around, and happy. It was like a summer barbeque, or like one of those afternoons with kids playing around in the spray of a street fire hydrant. It personally reminded me of summer nights when I was in grade school in Michigan, with the sun only setting at nine and all of the out and playing until then, with parents sitting on porchs and chatting while making sure the kids didn’t hurt themselves. It was one of those amazing moments of communal happiness, when life just feels good and even better because you’re surrounded by good people who are feeling just the same way. Sitting in the sun, listening to the music, talking to friends, people-watching everyone else wandering or sitting about—the first thing it reminded me of, actually, was Friday afternoons back during my time studying at Rice. Every Friday afternoon one of the nearby dorms would blast music from loudspeakers on their roof, and especially in the spring and fall months we’d be sitting on the benches and swing out in front of our dorm just chatting and sitting and enjoying life. I love these moments. It made me all excited for potential school activities next fall.
1 comment:
It sounds like you're going to miss days like that--I don't blame you, I would too. I'm glad to hear more about what a celebration like that was like--you mentioned it on Sunday, but this rich description is amazing. Makes me wish I could have been there, with the warm attachments you have to the place and people, gleaned over the year you lived there.
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