t-shirts

I love seeing fun T-shirts in Africa. They are usually so random, and I always wonder how those shirts end up here and on their current owners. A couple I’ve seen recently:

- An elderly woman wearing the recognizable blue and red Superman shirt, probably in an X-large. She was walking along the side of the road, proudly carrying a heavy bundle of wood on her head and using a walking stick.
- A SC driver sporting a polo shirt with the McDonald’s logo in front, as if it were a Lacrosse alligator. The logo, in all its yellow glory, stuck out on the shirt’s dark turquoise blue background – just as it infamously and obnoxiously does along the highways of America.

Luckily, I had a camera to take a photo of a couple of T-shirts, which inevitably made me grin. The first one was taken at a local church near the Xai Xai beach. I don’t think the boy has any idea what it says on the back. L’s shirt in the photo below also caught my attention immediately. It’s a cute yellow, with the words Surf Shop printed in pink. Definitely something you might see in California on a young girl. I doubt however that L has ever seen any surfers, or even knows what surfing is. (As some of you know, I’m mildly obsessed with the idea that I will one day be a surfer. Hence my move to Mozambique.)



Mohambe, the village where L lives, is not really near the coast. In fact, there was a severe drought in her area recently, which is why there was food being distributed at her school that day. When the school feeding project was initiated in November, a UN agency wanted to try and prevent children from dying from hunger because of the drought. SC’s role is to distribute food sent from the donor agency to families with children who go to the schools where we typically work. The food distributed includes maize, peas, and beans. Sometimes, cooking oil is also provided. Families pound the maize to make flour, which is used to make nshima – a staple in the Mozambican diet.



I went over to L during the distribution and stood next to her a while. I could tell she was curious about me, but she would only steal sideways glances to figure me out – nothing too noticeable. What struck me about her was that she didn’t act like many of the other children I often meet. Some are extremely shy and giggly, running up to me and then running away just as quickly. Others are completely uninhibited, approaching me with their stares, following me around everywhere. L was different. She stood next to me, without a smile but also without a look of annoyance. She just seemed so calm, so composed. I finally conjured up what few Portuguese words I know and asked her if she goes to the school we were at, whether she likes it, what grade she’s in. L responded very politely, but while speaking in a clear voice and looking at me directly rather than avoiding my eyes. I liked her immediately. We exchanged names, and after my initial barrage of questions, there was a very brief silence before she turned to me and asked ME a question. I loved that. Why? I guess because here, young adolescent girls don’t often speak up. At least in the presence of adults, foreigners, and even boys their age. I’m sure amongst their female peers they may feel comfortable speaking their minds, but I haven’t seen that kind of behavior with others people.

L asked me if I had any brothers or sisters. We started talking about our families (she has two brothers and two sisters) and our ages (she’s 11). She wanted to learn more about my brothers, where they live, what they do, and how old they are. It was fun. I feel like she enjoyed learning things about me that somehow made me human and real, not just some abstract notion of a foreigner. I love having these moments of connection and hope that I’ll have many more of them during my time in Moz.