Does anybody really know what time it is?

There are some interesting things about life in Mozambique, or at least our little backwater of Quelimane.  Here are some recent things I have noted:
1) You may ask a pregnant woman when she is "due"--when the baby is going to come--but you will never get an answer other than, "whenever it comes" or "soon" or "not for a long time".  The idea of figuring out such things has never occurred to them.  They sort of look at you with the question in their eyes of "who could possiblyknow that?"   And, I guess when you live as they do, unburdened by calendars and schedules for many, it really is detailed knowledge beyond their need to know.  Which brings us to the next item.
2) If you ask someone when their birthday is, chances are they won't know.  We asked that question to Veronica the other day and she had absolutely no idea.  We asked Rui and Bendita the birthday of their daughter and they responded that they have a document somewhere that contains that information, but of themselves, they really didn't know or care.  As one who is sometimes overwhelmed by all the gift giving occasions of American Society, I must admit that the state of affairs here has a little bit of appeal.  It really is non-essential information.  Which reminds me.  Recently, we met Rui's father who looked to be in his sixties or seventies.  We asked him how old he was (no questions are considered rude here) and he gave a year, but couldn't remember a month or date.  His son started laughing a bit and mentioned to him that he was younger than his son according to his reconing.  Really, birthdays are not a principal focus here.
3) They take a different approach to naming children here.  I'm not quite sure what the underlying philosophy is, but for sure they take it a little less seriously.  I have already shared pictures of our adopted twin grandsons here, Santo and Santinho or Saint and Little Saint.  We have a baby at church who is named Haha (he likes to laugh).  We met a woman with child last week at church and asked after the name of the infant.  "Ultimo" she replied, meaning "last".  She assured me that he would indeed be the last.  (but then, I recall that I do have a last child of my own daughter who is named Fin--a similar statement of finality--perhaps one must be a mother to understand this).  I have already documented here that sometimes, the task of naming a child will simply be delegated to someone else to take care of, so that the parents don't have to bother with it.

4) An admirable custom here is that of "filhos da casa" or children of the house.  It is very common for families to have children who live with them who are unrelated.  If a family does not have the means to provide for their children, someone else will take them in and feed them.  In return they will help out as needed.  It seems to work.  They are not slaves but they eat and work and are provided a place to sleep and a little bit of supervision.  Gaspar and Veronica, who we teach, are poor as can be, (at least until he got his bike), but they have two such children in their mud home--who help out with the twins. 

Most anything that can be is carried and sold via bicycle.  We had to hurry and catch this guy so Sister Osborn could make her purchases.