22 million people spread over an area twice the size of California only makes a place sound large in size, however, I consistently begin conversations with people in different cities, towns and villages hundreds of miles away from where I actually live and we find friends in common. Kevin Bacon and his five degrees would be out of work here.
This evening I got a phone call from Titos, a friend that I not only have not seen since 2004, but with whom I haven’t exchanged even a single email, text, facebook poke, or letter. I had no way of reaching him. Nothing. When I was Chibuto, Titos’ home town, in Decemebr I tried to find his old house, but ended up just lost. I couldn’t remember his last name and thus ask somebody, so hopelessly gave up. Then he called me tonight. He had gotten my number from someone who had gotten it from someone else. We live 300 miles from each other. It was phenomonal.
But this isn’t the first time I’ve been tracked down since moving down to Maputo. I have been ordered to stop by the Police only to discover that it was a former student, suspiciously been eyed by people who turned out to be either former coworkers and students, stopped inches from a guy running into me who also was an old friend, and been tracked down by a former teacher that now lives in South Africa. Then, about a month ago I was crossing in South Africa and ran into to some complications in the Mozambican border post. How lucky was I to find that the immigration agent in the next window over was a former student. Seriously, it is ridiculous.
So tonight’s phone was surprise only in terms of who was on the other end. I guess this is a country that puts more stock in personal relations, in old friends, and in searching people out. Cellphones have only made what was already done exponetially easier.
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