Christmas in Mozambique: It was hard to wake up in the morning and realize that today was Christmas. I started out the day, fetching water for my breakfast and my bath. It was a cool 80 degrees, with a breeze that made it feel like 75. My roommate and I ate breakfast and then baked cookies to bring over to our host families houses, where we would spend most of Christmas with. It was interesting returning to the home where I lived for the first few months in Mozambique. I didn’t move that far away, so I had been back several times to visit. But, this time I was greeted differently, almost like I had been gone for a year and was just now returning. It was kind of interesting, but nice at the same time. The children in the household and the children in the neighborhood were as happy as any child that I had seen on any other Christmas that I had experienced. I had this realization, that the children were happy to be in the presence of their family and neighbors and were happy to have a huge meal in front of them. Not because they are starving, like some people want to think of African children as being, but because it was a special meal, kind of like thanksgiving for us in the US. They didn’t wake up with a Christmas tree, which had sparkling lights glistening under the angel. They didn’t wake up knowing that the jolly old man had delivered all their presents that they asked for. They didn’t wake up knowing that their whole day would be defined by what was in those boxes. They didn’t have the expectation that parents or Santa would give them toys to play with. They didn’t have the buildup of a month, watching new presents being put under the tree and then counting them over and over, making sure your siblings didn’t have more. They woke up that morning with the expectation that their door would be opened for all the neighbors to mingle back and forth as they pleased and that they would have a large meal, where they could eat as much as they wanted. They knew that they would get up, dress in their nicest clothes and spend the whole afternoon eating, talking and partying into the night. Children knew that today, they could stay up till one, dancing on the front porch of their neighbors house. They knew that when they were tired of dancing there, they could walk across the street and dance some more at the other neighbors home. I thought about buying presents for my host family, and I decided not to. I think that was a good decision. My culture is to open up presents, their culture is to spend the day with friends and family and eat. So instead, I made cookies, what a great Christmas present. I ate dinner at my host families’ home, and then went to the next door neighbors and ate there. I ate 7 dinners and danced with the neighborhoods of Nammacha, until 1 in the morning. Every door was wide open and every house had music blasting from the windows. Again, I thought about my culture. How often did I talk to my neighbors? Did I ever talk to them on Christmas? I don’t think so! To open your door and give thanks to your village or your city, to say let’s go dance, let’s go eat, that’s a pretty awesome thing to do. In short, it was pretty cool to experience a different Christmas and I look forward to next years.