Drive two hours from Maputo to Machumbutana, and you will know what it is to love that country and its people. Sit with a small group in a reed church, listen to them sing as though with angels, hear them pray for Christ’s return, and you will be humbled by their fervor. Watch them adore their children, and you will know that the future of Christianity in Moçambique is secure.
A week in Moçambique engraved several other truths deep into my soul. One is that the world’s most grace-filled words may be “Thank You.”
To “honor” others is to treat them as individuals of utmost value. For me, that includes discovering how to say “Thank You” in the language of those I have come to visit. Many emotions can be expressed with sign and body language, but a special energy fills the air when a sunburned American says “Conni Mambo” to the market's tomato saleswoman who has just allowed me to take her photo. That’s when “camera faces” slip away and natural smiles prevail. It’s also when all of the other saleswomen hustle over to peer at the digital image, proclaim her “Miss Moçambique,” and then shyly pose beside their carefully-arranged veggies.
The result was the same whenever I said “Conni Mambo.” People relaxed, smiled, and invited me into their lives. I found “Conni Mambo” rather like a respectful rubbing of Aladdin’s lamp.
But, there are at least two words for “Thank You” in Moçambique. “Conni Mambo” is the phonetic spelling of a much more complex word in the Rongo language, a word best translated “I am in your debt.”
In Portuguese, “Thank You” is pronounced, “Obrigado,” a word heavy with relationship expectations. “Obrigado” says clearly, “You have done something special for me and I am obligated to you.”
In either language, “Thank You” assumes a relationship, an interaction that allows time for people to recognize each other, talk about the weather or the kids or the price of mangoes, while enabling the spark of “honor” to light the conversation.
There are several appropriate responses to a Moçambiquan “Conni Mambo” or “Obrigado.” A bright smile or musical laugh will do, but usually the music includes words like, “Es Nada.” That means “It is nothing,” and is the giver’s way of acknowledging the honor you have offered while also forgiving the debt, canceling the obligation, and letting you off the hook.
However, there is another possible response—accept the obligation and open the door of relationships wider, inviting the other to “come in and share my life.” That’s the response our team received at the Maputo airport as we thanked our hosts for giving us a marvelous week in their country. Our heartfelt “Conni Mambos” were met with laughter and embraces. No one said, “Es nada.” All said, “Return soon, please!”
“Obrigado.”
Dick Duerksen is the "storyteller" for Maranatha Volunteers International. Readers may contact Dick at dduerksen@marantha.org.
