Global Poverty Monitor

When we were picked up, we drove for about an hour to the Chiembekezo food security project. We met with the community group first, and as usual we were greeted with song and dance when we got there. We were then lead to a table where we were invited to sit, and the district managers introduced themselves and welcomed us. We were asked to speak individually, and so we all said our name and age. Once again there was laughter when I said my age (or rather after Alex translated it for me). I have really grown to like Alex – in the car on the way to the food security project he was telling Will and I about natural medicines. He explained natural remedies for ulcers, headaches, and other ailments, using things like citric acid for lemons and the ashes produced when coconut shells are burnt. It is so enlightening to speak to an authentic Mozambican who can tell me the things I have wondered about. Tonight at dinner I even asked him about his hair, since I feel comfortable enough with him now and I was sure that her would be fine with me asking. He said that he was happy I had asked, and he seemed to find it funny that I am a law student, and seemed to find a connection between my asking the question and my law degree.

Alex has been so open with us about all parts of his life – that his father had many wives and he has over 20 half brothers and sisters, about the facts that he has no wife or children, and the home that he lives in. So I asked him about his hair: the typical short, black hair that grows in little patches all over the head. I asked if he cuts it or if it grows that way, and he said that he has it cut, but the last time was 2 months previously, and that it would not grow very long anyway, and would be very tight curls.