The Bread Store (A Padaria)
The bakery in C--- that we go to has the best bread in Mozambique, hands down. And Tober and Blake have both tried many different breads from many different cities. I consider myself a bread connoisseur of a sort, and without a doubt, the bread here is fantastic.
It's baked fresh every day in loaves about 7" long and with a diameter of about 5". They cost 1 Met (1,000 meticals or 4 cents) each, and have a delicious sprinking of salt on the outside, which you really begin to appreciate when you stop eating processed foods of any sort.
At almost any time of day, there are a dozen or so people in the store at the counter. There's no standing poles to form any sort of line - just a 15' long counter behind which sits the fresh bread on shelves and the white-clad employee(s). The bakery was recently remodeled, so it has a very nice tile floor and understated walls, pretty unusual for this area. It stands out due to its quality of looking modern, but also because you can smell it a kilometer away and it smells FANTASTIC.
As there's no line, and forming lines is something of a novelty in this part of the world, you hold your money in your (right) hand across the counter while holding your bag in your left hand and wait for the bread man to choose you. Most of the time, this doesn't take too long, but it still feels special when he chooses you and you say "Ten". I still haven't figured out how he decides who's next, but I've noticed that children have a hard time getting noticed.
In any case, today it was absolutely packed. Yesterday, everything was closed including the padaria, so people were rushing to restock their bread supply. There were children and adults pushing every so often for a spot closer to the bread guy, especially when someone stepped away from the counter. This, compounded by the lack of personal space that we have neuroses about in the States, could have very easily stressed me out.
But I say, when in Rome, do like the Romans. I forget who actually said that, but you know what I mean. So I reached over the children's heads and flashed my 10 Met bill, which after a few minutes transformed into the other kind of bread - but not until after a considerable amount of wiggling and squeezing.
It tasted better than ever today.
One of my goals with this journal and one of my goals for a long time now, is to catch up with my spiritual/philosophical thought process enough to actually spell it out and figure out more exactly how I view the world. This may or may not be good reading, but it's something I need to do.
I find myself always thinking about the world in very general terms and trying to relate specific incidents to a bigger picture, a grand philosophy that binds all of the things I innately find to be true, together. Of course, this search begins with finding what seems to be innately true, and broadening the scope of the value I seem to hold, to see if it's what I think it is. Make sense?
For instance, if I'm of the mindset that all people are born good (and what is good?), then how do I explain bad people? Can I use their upbringing as an excuse, or am I looking at "good" in the wrong way. Maybe the quality of "good" is self-defined, so what others see as "bad" is still "good"? Then, extending this to people who are "bad" AND think that they are "bad" - can their fall from grace be attributed to something that happened, or is it just who they are? This is a quandary I often find myself in.
More applicable, though, I know a lot of people who were abused as children, or similarly went through abusive relationships or traumas. They approach their current relationships in strikingly similar ways, and have very predictable thoughts regarding their ability to be physically or emotionally intimate with their partner. And getting past this always involves making peace with their past, which they have no control over.
Now, this is all a very American concept - what we consider to be emotional and physical abuse. Many other cultures have wildly different expectations for relationships - which isn't to say that American relationships are the most civil. We are still a pretty uptight country, and don't have a very high tolerance for what we consider to be abuse. Because of this, people victimize themselves in situations where they aren't emotionally scarred, but in thinking that they truly ARE a victim, they evoke in themselves the same response as a truly traumatized person has. (I'm sure there are studies and names for these concepts, and far more in-depth and accurate information. But it's MY world view and I'll call it what I want :) !)
So, whereas before I thought that an abused person had certain symptoms that manifested themselves in current relationships, now I see that it's victims, whether self-inflicted or not, who have a predictable response.
And now, what about the people who are abused, but not victims? That is, they have been abused, but do not acknowledge it, or refuse to be considered a victim? Do they exhibit the same behavior?
So, once I figure all that out, I have in my mind a good idea of what abuse does to a person AND what internalizing real or perceived abuse does to a person.
In my thinking, I try to then relate it to human behavior as a whole. When a person is abused, what happens to their self-image? How are they changed on a very basic level that can account for their behavioral changes? My thinking almost inevitably comes down to an evolutionary viewpoint, which is very important in how I see the world. In this case, has abuse always existed and, if so, why is this behavior optimal for passing along good genes? If not, when did abuse start in human history and why did it start then?
I answer these types of questions all the time, trying to get a better grasp on the world. Being in Mozambique has allowed me a very different perspective to try and determine what is and is not universal human behavior.
OK, I'm tired, but I'll try to bring this train of thought back into the here and now of "Holy shit, that's some weird stuff you're seeing and doing in Mozambique, John". Tomorrow.
Peace
John
