Madrugada

It's pitch black outside and yet the birds are already chirping. In less than half an hour the sun will be rising over the Indian Ocean, streaming in my bedroom window through my makeshift curtains that leave much to be desired in the light-blocking department.

I've just arrived home after a night out with Jenny. We started at Ti'Palino for a picanha dinner sponsored by the brasilian owner of the restaurant, followed by a night of live music and dancing at a place called Bar Africa. The music was truly amazing, and for the first time since I've been in Mozambique I really danced my bones.

The band featured this evening was Mabulu, a multi-generational group project that brings together musicians of traditional marrabenta style and hip-hop, among other styles. The first time I heard Mabulu was actually on a cd I purchased on a whim while visiting the Oakland Museum of Art several years ago with my mom and her husband. The cd is a compilation by Putamayo called "An Afro-Portuguese Odyssey" and is one of my all-time favorites. I listened to it nonstop, especially one track by this group Mabulu. At the time I never dreamed that I'd one day be living here.

We ran into a few odd characters throughout the evening - highlights being the brasilian girl who proudly announced to our table over dinner that her boyfriend was also her cousin (!), and some old Mozambican man that approached us at Africa Bar and really seemed intent on picking a fight with me and Jenny. He was so rude, so offensive, so unquestionably overstepping boundaries that Jenny eventually told him off in great style, polite yet quite firm. It was one of those sweet moments where I just wanted to yell, "Yeah! That's right!" as the man sulked off after 2 little white girls put up some limits.

It was definitely a great night, despite the negative energy from this man. Nothing like some good music and good dancing to ward it off.

I called my dad on skype once I got home. He and his side of the fam were celebrating Thanksgiving this afternoon. My celebration here yesterday consisted of homemade carne adovada and flour tortillas. Seriously yum. I think I ate at least a pound of pork and chile by myself!

I've just heard a rooster crow over the songs of the birds. This is my clue that it is well, well past my bedtime. From what is possibly my latest non-proposal-writing night awake in Mozambique, I wish you sweet dreams.