Group Life

Group living is always interesting. For example, as I write this, there is a large Swedish man dancing in front of me clown-like asking if I'm going to include him in my blog.  He is a gentle giant, the sweetheart of the group who looks after everyone and who everyone loves.  Every group needs one of these people who provides and cares and is always there with a hug when something has gone wrong.

Then, there the person who he looks after most.  The blissfully unaware person one who thinks only about themselves and makes that nice person worry about them all the time.  We've had a few situations here where blissfully unaware has done something stupid and the gentle giant has had to come to his rescue.  They have been friends for years so I guess that this relationship works for them but it's definitely not balanced.

There are 16 of us living here in the house, plus two leaders who use the house as an office and come in and out throughout the day.  So far we have all gotten along pretty well but mostly that's just because the majority of us are easy going.  However, there is a PhD student who lives in the house who has a very low tolerance for other people.  As a result, a number of signs have appeared throughout the kitchen and living room advising us to keep the door closed to prevent mosquitoes from getting inside, to clean up the leftover food because there are people starving in Africa and that we should clean up the crumbs from our toast.  I'm not sure why she's living in the house right beside the kitchen but, there she is.  She has two friends and I call them 'the unsociables'. Her two sidekicks have already been here for a couple of months so, they feel a certain sense of possession and we are unwelcome.  They walk through the house talking only amongst themselves and make it very clear that they want nothing to do with the rest of us- it's a good thing that we outnumber them.  They have retreated into their bedroom behind closed doors which is perfectly ok with me.  I've tried to connect and they are just not interested so, not worth my time or effort.

Then there's the clueless boy:  young, sheltered and full of self importance- a dangerous mix.  He walked right through customs at the Inhambane airport because he didn't want to wait in line and already had a visa.  It did not occur to him that he had to get a stamp to validate his visa.  As a result, he was in the country illegally and could have been arrested.  Instead, because we have a really incredible local leader,  he only had to pay a fine of 504 euro.  Clueless boy did not have the money and had to borrow it from our Mozambican leader who only makes 7000 Meticais (roughly $240 US) a month.  I truly hope that he pays him back- but I have my doubts that he even appreciates just how much money he's borrowed in relative terms.  Clueless boy will get more money from his parents and not think twice about what an idiot he's been.  When he arrived, he forgot to bring most of the basics with him- deodorant, sunscreen, bug spray, shampoo...I have no idea what he had in his backpack but it wasn't anything useful.  He did however bring a guitar, which he in fact plays quite nicely (he's produced a demo of his own work, but he can't remember any of his own songs- not a good sign for someone who wants to be a musician).

To balance that out there are some very well travelled individuals who tell fascinating stories of travels all over the world.  I spend most of my time with these people.  We tend to group together to find relief from the insanity of the younger crowd.  The 'frat house' gets tiring after a while. 

There are the idealists who came thinking that they would actually be making a difference and are completely disillusioned with the reality of the situation which is that we do one thing, a dive or ocean safari once a day, do a little data entry which may or may not be used in scientific study and spend the rest of the time hanging out relaxing.  Some people spend a lot of time suntanning on the beach and buying souvenirs, while other people drink and party every night then spend the day recovering.  I spend my time somewhere in between- sometimes sleeping, sometimes taking pictures, sometimes writing, very rarely partying and never lying on the beach (I am far too white for that and remember how badly burnt I got at the beginning of the trip)

When we first arrived, we received very little guidance as to how things worked in the house.  It took most of us two weeks to figure out that there were sheets for the beds and that they would be washed every week by our houselady Anabella.  She spends the day in the house cleaning up after us and cooks dinner 3 nights a week.   As she is 6 months pregnant, she actually spends a lot of her time sleeping, but as there isn't that much that needs to be done it is ok.  However, to return to the above point, there is a distinct lack of leadership coming from our 'leaders.'  There favourite line seems to be 'You're adults and can look after yourselves' This is great but, if we don't have any information, it's hard to know how best to look after yourself.  After two weeks, we seem to have figured things out and have settled into the routine of life here, but it could have happened a lot faster if we had been properly oriented.

Food here is simple.  Breakfast is cereal or white toast.  Lunch is some sort of sandwich on white bread.  Maybe mayonnaise and cucumber or  peanut butter and banana or sometimes we have instant noodles for variety.  Dinner is rice and either beans or matapa (spinach and coconut milk). Please note how white everything is- white bread, white rice, white noodles... there's not a lot of fibre or variety in our diet in the house which means that on the nights when Anabella isn't cooking, most of us head out to the local restaurants for something to eat. Really, anything would do, but pizza is a particular favourite.  The other night gentle giant and blissfully unaware prepared a barbeque for everyone which was actually quite good.  I think it was mostly because they wanted to cook over a fire to satisfy some primal need but, I'm not complaining because the barracuda was delicious.  Needless to say, although invited, the 'unsociables' did not come.

As I said, during the day Anabella watches the house and makes sure that everything is safe and at night we have “the guard” which is really two different guys who sit on the porch from sundown to sunup.  They don't do anything except drink coffee and occasionally eat some of our left overs.  However, they do create a presence near the house which keeps people from exploring where they are not wanted.  I guess that makes it worthwhile.

That my friends is our house.  I guess that our house isn't too much different from any house or our family any different from any other family.  There's always the strange cousin, the bratty little brother and the hard to live with Aunt.  We've found a balance and it's a good one.  Things shift within it as we learn and grow and by the time it's all over, there's a part of me that will miss this.  However, there is also a part of me that will love having a bed that isn't parabolic in shape (definitely sunken in the middle), food that has some flavour and nutritional quality and personal space.  Home is home, and it always feels good to be back there, but for a short time, it's nice to experience something new.