Christmas

Despite a few invites to spend Christmas in Angola this year, I decided I couldn’t face the holidays without the cold, woolen blankets, duffle coats and the family. But before heading north in a couple of weeks, I’ll pack my suitcase full of memories. I’ll take Teresa’s loud voice with me, when she tells stories about her family and I need all my concentration to follow the words that seem to run out of her mouth. I’ll think of tia Luciana’s proud smile when I appreciate her latest “experiment” in the kitchen. Lino’s laughter when the “white woman” asks him for the fiftieth time to do something he just can’t be bothered to do. Luzia’s stories about being a nurse during the civil war, and losing a husband and finding him again 10 years later. Dona Maria’s happiness when I told her that the dress she made for me was a huge success “out there”. The songs in church. The taste of a mango just taken off a tree. The silence in the mountains and the chilly breeze of the evenings that smells of eucalyptus. Mario’s voice when he recites his poetry about love and life and politics. Girls plaiting each other’s hair. The huge dark eyes of my little godchild. The smell of lemons and tomatoes in the kitchen. And many many children’s hands waving goodbye.

Democracy

I’ve had this glimpse about democracy the other day: democracy is a place where one doesn’t need to say “thank you”. (sorry, very fortune-cookie like, but let me explain):

Not that democracy wouldn’t need civility and politeness, not that it should be about forgetting “good manners”, but it does have an element of “anti-bowing” that I find fundamentally dignifying.

The lamppost on your street doesn’t light any more? It might take a while, but if you complain, someone’s going to come fix it. And while you surely will say a word of thanks to the guy who actually did the work (if you meet him), you won’t then run to the mayor and thank him for his “extraordinary effort”. You won’t bow a million times in front of the mayor’s secretary or doorman and declare to be eternally grateful, just because he let you into the mayor’s office. Some things are just your “right”. Full stop. No unnecessary politeness. No over-the-top thankfulness.

Around here, you have to be prepared to “be grateful” well before anything gets done. You will start saying thank you just to get a chance to hope that anything might get at some point done. So, thank you Mrs. Secretary for answering the phone and giving me a chance to ask for an appointment with the doorman of the assistant of the secretary of the person in charge of lampposts. Thank you, Mr. doorman for actually letting me into his office, allowing me to wait for 5 hours in order to speak to the secretary of his assistant. Thank you, Mr. Assistant for looking at me and agreeing to listen (with half an ear) to my concern, after I professed my complete devotedness to your grandness. And… wait, what did I want to complain about???