Exceção número um

I inched to the finishing line by about 8pm on Friday evening. Whadda week. Drinks with friends Alexis, Gisela and Virgílio were extraordinarily welcome.

I resumed Portuguese lessons with Ilidio during the day as I’d had a tad more time available than earlier in the week. I felt rusty but it wasn’t as painful as with earlier gaps we’ve had caused by my travel. He was very kind to say that of his students he sees me as ‘exceção número um’ (exception number one) in the speed with which we’re learning. Given how many stumbling blocks I face on an hourly basis, God ONLY KNOWS how it must feel to be struggling along even more. The evening out typified this. I met some random new Mozambicans who exhibited much patience in allowing me to chat in Portuguese. But it’ll remain a good while before I can converse properly or follow casual discussions and not be the only one looking around blankly whilst everyone else cracks up at a joke.

These lookout points in the military compound next to where I work always seem a little imposing and over-dramatic in what is now a stable city.