Força

On my bike, a Mozambican youth cycled past me and shouted ‘força’, which I took to be a statement of solidarity and not mockery at my slow speed. I’m not a slouch on a bike, although in Maputo it pays to proceed gingerly and approach junctions with caution.

Duolingo has penetrated my habits extremely accurately based on this offering. It was a running joke with some friends in Cambridge that I’d usually contribute gallons of fruit juice to group dinners, and proceed to drink 90% of it. My stomach is a bottomless pit when it comes to juice. And various other drinks and foodstuffs.

A diverse range of meetings today has left me feeling buoyant. Morning coffee and knowledge sharing with a contact working on community conservation in northern Mozambique. A very productive Skype call with the boss. An evening drink with someone senior in the World Bank, who’s keen to track the developments in our work in Chimanimani. Finally a lockable cupboard in the shared office space so I don’t cart everything around like a packhorse.