Parquinho

This patch of greenery in a suburban upmarket part of the city is known as Parquinho (little park). I met a contact from the US Embassy for coffee to discuss each other's respective endeavours in the conservation world. Conservation and specifically illegal wildlife trade are pleasingly high priorities on the US government's agenda in Mozambique.

Then I popped to the office of the lawyer who is helping us with various processes as we re-establish our programme. My professionalism was almost negated as while I was waiting I was sharing memes with friends on Whatsapp and laughing to myself. There's a particularly hilarious game to play with song lyrics and Facebook profile names. I encourage you all to visit this link.

Back in the office, more classic banter with Inês. She likes to understand her colleagues' commitment to Jesus Christ, but she usually finds the ground quite barren in an office of conservationists.

'How do you think you came to be in Mozambique?'

'Many factors: opportunity, luck, invitation, hard work, privilege.'

'You think you are so clever you just came to Mozambique?'

'No, there are many factors.'

'God creates all chances.'

It was actually a very useful insight into how some religious folk may view the non-religious. That by not believing and therefore being unwilling to thank God and credit him/her/it/they for our experiences and achievements, we are exhibiting a type of arrogance. In this case her reaction wasn't anything related to my status as a foreigner per se, although of course the privilege of working for an international organisation has enabled me to end up here. More it seemed like I was being accused of failing to display gratitude to the higher power that engineers life chances.

The conversation continued and it was like a red rag to a bull. I cannot take the story of creation seriously as told in the bible. It defies rational thought.

'How do you think the skies formed, you think it just happened?'

'Millions of years of evolution.'

'When you wake up in the morning, that's God.'

'No, it's biology.'

We were laughing throughout whilst poopoohing each other's views in their entirety, so it remained good natured. Other colleagues, Verónica and Moshin, from the partner office I'm squatting in at the moment, looked on amusedly, having been accused of godlessness before.

After a dig at Veronica's white blouse (comparing her to an unholy ghost) Inês then left the room vowing not to re-enter until we acknowledge God's role in shaping all aspects of our lives.

For the evening I joined a new friend, Virgilio, who I met last weekend whilst my memory was still functioning. He invited me for food at his apartment with his partner and their baby son, along with an assortment of friends who live in Lisbon. It was fun to be thrust into a Portuguese speaking crowd, and we managed somehow.

One of the friends is originally from Guinea Bissau, the only one of Portugal's former colonies in mainland West Africa. I have not met anyone from there before. Together we all went to a marrabenta concert at the Centro Cultural Franco-Moçambicano (French-Mozambican Cultural Centre).