One week left...

What day is it, and in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

I can't keep up, and I can't back down

I've been losing so much time...

-- Lifehouse , “You and Me”

One more week left in Chicumbane and I can't even believe it, I don't even know where the past few weeks have gone.

I've been spending my time at home (doing Peace Corps close-out paperwork and reports, cleaning out my house, and dividing up my possessions), and at work (not exactly working, just hanging out with my coworkers.)

My mood changes by the hour, my mindset by the day. Little things will set me into tailspins of joy or fits of depression. Looking at the calendar throws me into a panic. Sometimes I don't know how I could possibly leave Mozambique. Other times I would love nothing more than to hightail it out of here asap.

Example:

Last week, I spent an afternoon cleaning out my room and tossing stacks of old paperwork into the trash pit. Because the day was warm, I decided to hold off on burning the trash (my new hobby, by the way) until the evening. A group of children soon came to my door begging to color but, as I reminded them for the millionth time, coloring days were only Saturday and Sunday and we were still in the middle of the week. I went back in the house, but happened to look out the window just in time to see the oldest of the kids retrieving a giant stack of paper from my trash pit. “Leave that!” I shouted, which startled the group of children and sent them sprinting out of the yard with my papers in hand. I threw on my flipflops and raced after them, only to find the entire street littered with my trash. It appeared to have rained Vivienne personal documents all over the sandy streets of Chicumbane: ATM receipts, shopping receipts, Peace Corps paperwork, basically everything I don't want the entire world to see. So I spent the next half an hour doing a one-woman trash pickup, fuming about the absurdity of having to throw away my trash TWICE. As I lit the trash pit on fire, all I kept thinking about was how much I wanted to be in America, with air conditioning, and a paper shredder.

Example:

Colleen's birthday was last week and we were both convinced that the jovens would try to give her a CACHES “baptism” - a ritual that involves being held down and having a big bucket of cold water poured over your head, and the reason that I've kept my birthday a secret for the past two years (although I fully anticipate receiving one at my goodbye party next Wednesday). Colleen and I spent the evening in a high state of paranoia, because it was clear the jovens were up to something, huddled in the corner whispering to each other. We kept reminding them that they needed to practice their English Theatre piece, which they assured us they would. Finally, three of the boys entered onto the stage but we immediately sensed something was off... It only took Colleen a few seconds before she leaned over and gasped, “I think that's supposed to be you! And that's me!” And indeed, the boys were dressed as us- fake Vivienne had on a short skirt and a bow tied around his head and fake Colleen was wearing a long skirt and had a shoulder bag slung around his arm, from which he kept taking out a water bottle and sipping. The jovens then reenacted Colleen's entire first day at CACHES, mimicking our mannerisms to a frighteningly accurate degree. Colleen's character kept looking around with wide eyes and murmuring, “Que interestante!” (How interesting!), and constantly asking, “O que disse?” (What did he say?- a gentle stab at her Portuguese comprehension skills). Fake Colleen kept leaning over to fake Vivienne (who, by the way, was sitting with legs crossed in a girly manner and kept hugging everyone and exclaiming, “I miss you!!”) to speak in fast garbled English.

The real Colleen and the real Vivienne, meanwhile, had tears rolling down their faces from laughing so hard. At the end the boys sang happy birthday and all of them busted out the “Colleen dance move,” something she had taught them a few weeks back and that they had obviously been practicing.

The entire presentation was of those things in which words could never do full justice. Colleen and I chuckled about it the entire way home, and the entire next day as well. I felt so much love for the jovens for thinking of such a unique and hilarious birthday gift. How could I ever go, knowing that I may never see their beautiful faces again? Sometimes I just want to hug them and never let go.