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Showing posts from June, 2008

Nomussa

Nomussa joined the Orphanage when she was two years old, back in 2006, with her two brothers, Rafael and Andre. Shy to tenderness and scared from the camera, I can not really say Nomussa liked me from the start. But I knew her story, just as many others. A story where love and tenderness did not play a part, a story where no-one before had cared. As I visited the Orphanage in 2006, I took back with me the picture of Nomussa gazing at her godmother’s letter, eyes fixed as if her 3 years old had just thought her how to read. In January this year, she would also barely get close to me but I just thought time would come when that would change. And last Saturday, I just did not recognize her anymore. In the last 6 months, food, health and a lot of love have made Nomussa a different child. I hugged her and she threw me back one of the best smiles I have seen in Mozambique. One of joy, innocence and true happiness, all I wish for “my kids”

Piedade

I met Piedade she was 16 days old, back in 2006. She was only a few hours when she was left in the Orphanage and her mum died 4 days later with post-labour complications. As the youngest in the nursery, Piedade was for two years the “spoiled baby” but filled with deserved care and attention. Unfortunately, six months ago, I was greeted with less good news. Piedade was suffering from AIDS and was in the hospital for a while. She had lost weight and it was uncertain what the future was going to be… And at last, I barely recognize her, wanting to hug her at the same time as I want to hug the world. Piedade can walk now, she is receiving full time treatment and reacting really well. She is back to being the “little star” of the nursery, even though there are new babies in the space. She was our first baby and look at her now!

Back to the children

T he clock is telling me I should close the laptop and leave this for tomorrow. The heart is bursting and I can not spend another day without sharing with you my Saturday in the Orphanage. The mosquito that would not let me sleep got me out of bed at 6.30, an earlier start than usual. I blame the mosquito but I know the emotion of meeting “my children” again was not going to let me sleep anyway. The drive seemed longer than usual and the secondary road seemed to bring a new light, new huts, new trees that I had not seen before. Or maybe I had seen it after all but the joy is always immense as if I am there for the first time… The children welcome me singing, and the sound of their happy voices warms my heart and tells me one more time it is worth every step of the way I welcome Zezito in my arms, he is using the t-shirt I once gave him, with his name and our picture hugging. I still remember the first time he met me, his eyes staring at the hairs in my arms, playing with it with the in

Weekend out

This weekend I went to Ponta D’Ouro. It means edge of gold and it is down south in Mozambique, almost by the South African border: The place is worth a visit but I think there is one thing worth mentioning… the way there! You can shorten the way if you take the ferry boat from Maputo but after that, you have no other choice than 120 km of pure dirt road, in good times. With us, it rained the day before and dirt had become mud, making it look like you were driving in a big pot of butter. And the last hour, generally tough sand tracks, was more like a simulation of german bunkers in WWII, continuous ups and downs diving into literally pools of water and mud, hoping the car would make it through one more Good thing is my blue pick up truck did make it through in just under 3 hours with only one minor flipside, it changed colour. It is now a muddy like tone and very protected from external observers as there is no way you can see through the glass brown windows. But Ponta D’Ouro is a beaut

Sentence of the day

I have been reading a lot today and a lot of learning going on, but mainly one sentence has stuck to my brain in way of telling me, go and share me with the world. And so I did, or so I do. Here I am to share with you the thought of the day "Poor are poor because they have no money to manage"

Tired of...

Blogging is probably not my style. It requires short stories, to the point ideas. I am good at none of that. But I am still going on with it, not willing to give up just yet. Because today, amazingly enough, my story may actually be short. For all my banker friends, today I missed you all because today in the middle of my day I missed numbers. I did not know what was wrong, why the adrenaline of getting work done was not kicking in and I just kept on looking for an email to distract me. And suddenly I realized, if only I could look at one little number, everything would be fine. I decided my bank account was not the best option and even thought of looking at a list of investments, but they were still words. And I wanted numbers. The moment I realized at least I felt better. At least I knew what was going on. And I moved on. To you bankers, here is the proof today, that one day, you may miss it :-)

Correlations and statistics

I received this study today on whether poverty is a driver for risky sexual behaviour and its implications on AIDS. I read the abstract and could not read further. I will, I just could not do it all at once. The abstract was enough to make me wonder whether the vicious cycle ever gets broken if this study is true. It is not that the study says that rich people do not incur in risky behaviour, they do. But just in a much lower proportion than poor people. I fail to understand why I guess and I am hoping the findings on Uganda will contradict the findings on Burkina Faso, Gana and Malawi, since this was the only country where the study was inconclusive. It is a short thought for the day, kind of like the abstract that fell into my hands today, to leave me wondering how to go further.

Re-educating myself

I wondered a lot whether this was right. I whether a lot on why I was doing this. And even though I knew I was doing the right thing following one of those crazy instincts I felt the need of following, I still lacked the understanding of why I was getting myself on a flight for 11 hours (or so I thought) Today I found my first answer, of the many that I am sure are to follow. I am here to re-educate myself to be a normal person. I am here to have a normal job, working with normal people, coming home, doing things other people do, chat, go to the movies, watch tv, if I go crazy I may even read a book. But it takes time. And I am aware of what Tricia (my flatmate) calls a personality disorder. Today we had our moment to revive why we are not doing 20-hour-day-jobs even though we liked them s much. That is exactly why we are not there. But even out of the bubble, you always have some trouble "going back to normal". I do doubt I will ever be normal, there is actually a pretty cle