I saw my first Mozambican concert here in town, at the discoteca on Saturday night. It was a pasada artist named Yara - she was a good singer, but it was hard to tell given the combination of alcohol in my system, the quality of the sound system, and the CD that was her backing "band". Even her fans left halfway through her set. Then again, she did take the stage at 2 AM.
Nimi and I left the discoteca about 3:30 AM while Yara was still "singing". We had both dug into a gin and tonic, a couple White Russians (I had to go get the milk, then carefully walk the bartender through the whole process), and several beers. Needless to say, we needed a snack. So we headed over to the bread store (aka Bakery) and as luck would have it, my friend John Juan was there. He offered us some bread directly out of the oven - when we opened it up, the steam fogged up our glasses. It was the most wonderful bread I've ever had.
We got home, and I jumped right into bed. It's pretty chilly this time of year (at night it gets to the mid-to-high 50s sometimes) and so I've been sleeping in my sleeping bag lately. It's not like my nose is gonna freeze off, but very nice sleeping.
Today, Monday, I got up at 7 and immediately ran errands. I walked the couple miles to the District Director's office, spending a little time on the Internet along the way. Coming back, I stopped by the central market to pick up some food from Maria's family and practice my Changana, then continued on to the ATM and then my tailor to pick up some pants I had made. On the way back, I mailed a couple letters, bought some fresh eggs, and picked up a piece of hardware to fix a drain we've been having problems with.
All along the way, I saw people, stopping to talk for a little bit, and took a couple different routes to see the traditional straw and mud houses I haven't seen before. I thought about playing roller hockey, what "being in the moment" really means, people from back home, and how cool it was that I could see all these wonderfully real things and people any time I wanted. It's just a matter of not being in a hurry and being willing to do some walking.
Some people think of travel time as unnecessarily wasteful, especially when spent alone. And unfortunately in the States, it often is. We're locked in our cars, shutting ourselves off from the world. Yes, there are cars here, but even THEY stop to chat and pick random people up.
And so where in the States we define ourselves in terms of the things we do, here you are defined by your relationships with people. You can read that in dozens of books on cultural differences, but it's actually and subtly true. There's a certain base level of judgment every culture makes on things you do, likewise for the relationships you maintain. But here, it's that the emphasis is on the latter.
So this works against the volunteer, who in many ways defines themself as doing things for other people, when to these people this aspect isn't the first thing they see. Just when you expect even the smallest pat on the back, you realize that you need to go and find a colleague and just talk with him for a while. This work is inevitably humbling.
I mentioned I was thinking about "being in the moment". This is a concept I've wrestled with for quite a while, years, in fact. It's a very attractive concept, and it boils down to always observing and doing, acting almost instinctively, without many of the filters and inhibitions that define our normal lives. But it's impossible to practice. The idea that thinking about yesterday or tomorrow is NOT in the moment is quite the fallacy. We are always necessarily "in the moment", it's just how much we let what's going on affect us. And so, if by seeing something on a long walk that reminds you of a distant memory and your train of thought starts exploring this memory, you're not classically "in the moment". But you're avoiding the pitfall of dwelling in a time other than the present.
In acting, you're constantly reminded to "be in the moment". Whatever happens on stage, you need to be ready as if it's the first time it has ever happened. You need to react through the mask of your character, which may or may not be "in the moment", but it's your job as the actor to make that decision. So acting is really the ultimate exercise in this concept, but it's impossible to live life like this without driving yourself crazy (which I just about did at one point). If your senses are always on alert, you'll just break down. You need to draw a line in the sand and "be in the moment" for only part of the time.
I miss Western theater. I miss picking up a script and getting inside the head of a character, creating another person that lives inside of me and shares a body and a couple raw human traits, but exists on a different dimension. I miss seeing people genuinely react to the character and not to me. I guess that's why it's such a high when students "get it". My teacher character is successful...
Peace
John
