Rest in Peace, Chu Chu

It hadn't rained in a long time and it was so hot and sunny today, that I was already sweating after my cold bath.    At first, there was nothing unusual about today.  I turned in my grades for the final trimester of the school year and skipped to the teacher's lounge to cumprimentar, to greet, some professors. Professora Mirena was putting her grades in the gradebook.  A French teacher named Chu Chu, had his headphones on and waved me over to sit next to him on the couch.  In English, he said, "Ah, man! Listen to these songs I made. It's the hip hop, yo, yo, yo! I already told you I'mma producer. I'm gonna be famous, yo!" He wiggled in his seat and smiled so wide I thought his mouth was going to strech off of his face. I put on the sweaty headphones and danced to his smooth hip hop beats.  After about ten minutes, I went home to quench my thirst.

After being home for about half an hour, my room-mate told me that two of our colleagues were in a motorcycle accident and that we were to go to the hospital with the other professors.  Later, we found out Chu Chu was driving the bike and died on the spot.   Mirena was on the back of the motorcycle and had some injuries. She was hospitalized.

My neighbor took my roommate and I to the hospital.  We didn't get to see Mirena at the hospital (I'm not sure why) and we couldn't see Chu Chu's body because it was too dismembered from the accident.  Right after we went to the hospital, we headed to the 25-year-old's mother's home.  

When we arrived, men were sitting outside and the women were inside.  We walked inside of the 

compact adobe house. The women wrapped capulanas (a type of colorful, patterned cloth used for dress attire) around their waists and also had them tied around their heads. There were loud shrills and screams that made a sound like a screeching tire. 

A young woman was convulsing on a mat in the middle of the room screaming, "Chu Chu! Chu Chu! Onde estas!?"  Right beside her was a woman curled up in a ball. I figured she was his mother because they looked exactly the same.  He got his slightly bulgy eyes from her and nose that dipped in the middle,

as if someone took a scoop off of the bridge.  She shrilled, "O meu filho, o meu filho me disse... My son, my son told me..."  All of a sudden, her face transformed into Chu Chu's animated face.  "Ja nao quero trabalhar aqui em Mocuba. Eu quero mudar-me a cidade de Nampula e conseguir trabalho e receber o meu mestrado. I don't want to work in this city anymore.  I want to move to Nampula city and get a good job and study to get my master's degree."  According to his mother, he had promised her that he was going to put money into her account and buy her a big house when he made it big. 

It started raining and the drops made loud patters on the tin roof.  In the dark space, I cried with the group of women in their colorful attire. I listened to the grieving.  The community was shedding tears for Chu Chu.  Some shrilled, some screeched, some sniffled, some hiccupped, some were silent. Everyone mourned.

They usually bring the body to the family's house to stay for I think for 24 hours, but because of the condition of the French teacher's body, it was left at the morgue.  

The burial will be tomorrow. 

This evening, it rained for the first time in a very long time.