A happier contributor to the silence was my three weeks' leave in December, spent with my family in Australia, and including my first family Christmas since 2001 (just before I left for Mozambique). I'd hoped to catch up on blogging then, but found myself inexplicably avoiding computers.
You know you're back in Mozambique when your third-floor bedroom gets flooded. It had rained solidly for four days before my return home, and the drainage channel from a balcony became blocked. It's no great issue to sleep on sofa cushions for a week while the mattress slowly dries out in the humidity; what's truly annoying is the effect on my beautiful Portuguese parquetry floor.
These floors are found all over Mozambique, but their maintenance is quite a specialised art, and there's no word so far on when the artist will be available for repairs. I imagine he's pretty busy after those four days.
The cat is a reminder that I must not complain about the small inconveniences in my life. She belongs to an American friend who has lived in Mozambique for years, with a Mozambican boyfriend and their two small children, most recently in a flat with sunrise views over the Baia de Maputo, and whose extensive Mozambican experience had landed her a nice contract with a UN agency. Late last year the UN cancelled her contract due to funding cuts, her landlord informed her he would require the flat after Christmas, and the boyfriend - this is no place for details, but he's removed himself from the picture. So my friend has taken her two children for an indefinite stay with her family in the United States. The least I could to help smooth her hasty departure was to take the cat off her hands.
To those of my Maputo friends who read this blog - the cat is looking for another home. She's accustomed to a flat full of children and empregadas and visiting friends, and staying alone in my minimalist flat all day is making her neurotic.
