African Time

24 Jan 2009

I am officially throwing the “time is money” capitalist mentality out the window and embracing African Time in all of its meandering glory. I walk at a leisurely pace, and try to actually feel leisurely as I do it, I enjoy silence, just sitting, chatting, and being. Ahh, paciência.

In fact, I worked from 7:45-11am today, and did absolutely nothing. And I wasn't frustrated, or impatient, or snappy. Ok, I was actually at times a little frustrated. But it was more like a ‘why are we sitting here idly in the stuffy Sala de Professores when we could be on a cool shady porch conversar-ing and staring out over the palm groves?’ kind of frustration, rather than a ‘we could have done all the weeks work in one day if you all just focused for a second, and didn't take 12 breaks for tea and starchy snacks.’

Two people worked for the first hour, making the schedule of classes, while the rest of us sat and watched them because it really was a one person job. Actually, the first hour was spent milling around, excessively greeting everyone. Then the hour watching people work. Then, finally, we spent an hour waiting for someone to carry a blank piece of computer paper about 100 ft from the office to the teacher’s room so that we could write our names to indicate our presence for that days “work.” Yesterday we re-did two hours of work from the day before. Twice.

Had I encountered such inefficiency and delay in October when I first arrived in Mozambique, I think I might have had a minor conniption (although honestly, I am not sure what a conniption is). Luckily, my training was full of twists and turns, late starts and changed plans, or really lacking plans entirely.

I am not normally a yeah lets do nothing kind of girl. I am a worker. A go getter. A wake up at 7am on a Sunday to do my laundry and go for a run kind of girl. An I can’t take naps because I should be doing something more productive with my time girl. (I am also a salad and tofu rather than belly busting xima girl, but what can you do). So at times, my seemingly innate American frustrations do get the better of me.

For example, mutey comes to visit me about every-other day, but has now entirely ceased even trying to communicate. So we sit, for at least an hour, in silence. Now, I am all for living for the moment, slowing down, blah blah blah refer back to all the ideals that I have already enumerated in my attempt to unwind my perfectionist nature, but really, I cant help but think as I sit there on my porch, not speaking, pointing, or grunting, “I could be taking a nap or something right now.” Actually, today when he came I might have fallen asleep. Just for a minute. And I don't think he noticed.

But I am trying really hard to tap into my uber calm zen side over here. Wish me luck.