27/05/10

Headed down to Namaacha tonight, my first time back since we left after training. My mother, who told me the night before I left in December that she was pregnant, is now quite pregnant and expecting in July. She said she doesn’t want to know the baby’s gender, that she wants it to be a surprise, but she is disappointed because she is hoping for a girl but everyone tells her that her stomach is shaped like a boy. At the end of training I was pretty ready to be living in my own and not in a homestay situation anymore, but on the way to Namaacha I found myself incredibly excited—tingling with the anticipation of going home. It was strangely nostalgic, like when you go home for a break during college. I found myself immediately inspecting the house, to see what had changed since the last time I was there—they got rid of the fridge that had broken during training, they had switched to fluorescent light bulbs, my room had two beds now instead of two. The framed picture of our family that I had given them before leaving was sitting on the sideboard in the living room. It made me sad because the family has already changed some and will change a lot in the future. My 16 year old male cousin who lived behind us has moved to Maputo to live with his mom. My 13 year old female cousin/sister wasn’t there because she had been called back by her parents to Inhambane province to take care of a sick uncle (though she should be returning eventually). My mom and her son’s father (that is how she always refers to him) had started building a house during training that apparently is done now, so they will be moving with their son and new baby after the baby is born, and a different aunt will be moving into our house to take care of grandma and the two other boys. It makes me sad that after this happens I won’t be able to “return home” anymore.
Seeing my family was wonderful. It was so wonderful to be able to speak Portuguese with them finally! I got to sit down and have a real conversation with my mom about how her life, pregnancy, and new job are going, instead of the baby talk we were forced to resort to during training. The boys (3, 4, and 7 years old) took about 30 minutes to warm up to me, but as soon as they did, they were all competing for my attention and playing a game we used to play when I was there where they would try to sneak up behind my chair and tickle me, and then try to run past without me getting them. During training the 7 year old loved to tell me stories, but I think I only caught about half of what he would chatter at me, but this time I understood his entire story about a dog and horse. During dinner Anna’s mom (who is my mom’s sister) called to say hi. The first thing she said to me was “so have you gained or lost weight since training?” I told her I wasn’t sure, but I thought I was about the same. “Oh” she said, disappointedly.