Trust

Several weeks ago, I began to notice food items missing from my house. Just small things here and there: a tupperware of garlic, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of Nutella, a bag of chips, etc. I'd reach for a packet of oatmeal and discover only one left in the box. At first, I thought I was going crazy. Did I eat all the oatmeal and just forget to add it to my grocery list? Strange, because I'm usually very good about buying things before I run out. I considered the possibility of the onset of early Alzheimer's.
This week, when I bought a brand new box of oatmeal, I numbered the packets 1-10. A few days later, I only had 6 left. AHA!! I had eaten two of them (one a day), which left two unaccounted for. I applauded myself for NOT going crazy, while I began to feel the dull pain of trust shattered in my heart.
Only two other people have keys to my house: my empregada, and my 18-year-old next door neighbor who also happens to be one of my theatre kids. Both of these people were specially entrusted with my keys. I had mentioned these strange happenings to my empregada, who claimed to have no knowledge of what was going on (and also is not aware that the neighbor also has a key). As time passed, and things continued to disappear I shifted my doubt to my neighbor, who is the only one who knows of my daily comings and goings.
This frustrated me, because I consider him one of my good friends and I've always played a big-sister role to him. I would trust this kid with my life, but apparently I shouldn't trust him with access to my personal belongings. What makes this situation even more bizarre is what happened earlier this week. He came over to my house one night after his girlfriend of 3 years broke up with him, and literally bawled into my lap for an hour and a half. It was like holding a man-child who has no idea what to do with his emotions. I'd never seen a Mozambican so upset...EVER. Two days later, he still hadn't even mentioned a thing to his best friend. So what does that say about our relationship, that I'm the first and only person he goes to when something tragic happens?
Now, we seem to be closer than ever. Or....so I thought. Before my numbered oatmeal went missing, and the only person who knew for certain I was gone at certain times during the day... was him. It's heartbreaking.
I feel that the things I have, I give freely. Lately, I've been giving out money right and left to help people that I consider friends. Oh, you don't have money to get to work? Here's 100 mts. Oh, the threatre group is participating in a competition and needs money for transport to participate? Here's 500 mts. Especially when it comes to my sweet neighbor/friend, I'm pretty damned generous. An extra blanket because it gets cold, a pillow, a plate of food a couple times a week, candy... So really, all he'd have to do is ASK and I'd probably give it.
While venting my frustrations to other PCV's, I discovered that most of them had also been privy to similar petty thefts (by friends and people they trust!). And so I start to wonder, if I'm reading too much into all this. To me, this is an act of betrayal, a personal affront. But to Mozambicans, I'm not sure it's the same. Could it be that these acts of theft have nothing to do with me, and more to do with the things that I am perceived to have? I obviously have things in "excess" ; I'm always giving away things. Maybe the assumption is, I have so much I won't notice a few things gone. Or I'll just replace it.
So... my definition of friendship obviously isn't quite the same as others'. But I also can't get trapped in these feelings of bitterness that will only continue to taint my relationships with people. It's hard to explain, but I know that despite what's going on, they do care about me. I'm not wrong in saying that my friendship with my neighbor is as authentic as it was before I discovered the food thefts. And hopefully we'll continue to be close for the rest of my service.
But first... I'm going to need my keys back.