Welcome to the Monkey House

Over the past year, I’ve been fortunate enough to have friends visit me here in Mozambique, as well as meet friends of my fellow Peace Corps volunteers. And each time, the friends manage to find some astonishing aspect of life; something with unparalleled absurdity, to which we’ve grown accustomed. It can be simple things that Americans simply aren’t used to, or things that should really terrify me still, but no longer does. So with this post, I present a handful of these absurdities.

Our front yard has been adopted as a playground for the neighborhood children. It’s quite lovely for the most part, though sometimes they encroach upon our household sanctuary. However, the average age of the child gang lands around 4 years old. The 6 year old is in charge; he’s watching the 3 year old who is carrying on 1 year old on her back. No big deal. I am only mildly surprised when I see the 2 year old next door wandering around alone.

The variety of things one can carry on a motorcycle is quite amazing. I’m no longer surprised by the range, but I remain impressed. I’ve seen 3 adults and one child on a single motorcycle, two goats and a person, and whatever combination of people, poultry and livestock. I’ve seen a man sitting in the passenger while a massive sack of charcoal resided in the driver’s seat. I’ve seen two people and three cases of soda bottles in various “secure” locations (each case holds 24 bottles). I’m just waiting to see the goat driving.

And then there are the daily household things that no longer faze me. I no longer flinch when a lizard falls from our rafters, when a gecko skitters across the screen door. It doesn’t shock me when the fist-sized toad hops its way through our back door. Oh yeah, and I am only slightly terrified of this spider photographed below. It’s called a golden silk orb weaver. This one is the size of my open hand. I just hope it stays in our backyard…