Two New Angels

I had been at site for about two weeks.  It had been tough, emotional-roller-coaster filled weeks of self doubt and lots of free time.  Erica and I had been trying to keep busy painting our house, buying necessary items so we could live with almost zero resources, trying to make this house feel more like a home.  Though it had only been two weeks, we were both excited to get away from site for the holidays and meet up with some friends for Christmas and New Years.

On December 21^st, I and three other friends had literally just arrived in Nametil to visit Adam and Kevin when we received one of the most shocking messages from Peace Corps.  “Dear PC: There was a road accident in Macia, Gaza province on 12/20 involving five PCVs.  Three PCVs sustained and are stable but being med evac’ed to South Africa.  Sadly, Lena Jenison and Alden Landis passed away from their injuries last night….”

At first we thought it must not be true, that it must be some kind of horrific joke.  Only two weeks prior had we all been together, excited, nervous, anxious, and enthusiastic for ourselves and for our friends to begin our adventures at site.  For ten weeks, we had been through an intense training, but nothing can even begin to prepare you for news like this.

The five of us sat stunned on the front porch, at a complete loss for words and unsure how to feel, searching for more information.  We contacted other friends around the country and slowly the reality of the situation began to sink in. Two of our dear friends, two people from this new family we had created here in Mozambique, were gone, just like that, in a single instant.

How do I even begin to describe these two girls.  Lena and Alden were some of the most energetic, beautiful girls, always lighting up the room with their positive spirits.  Though I was not super close with them, I still shared many memories with them.  Never will I forget Lena’s wit and incredible sense of humor, her enthusiasm for making hand turkeys on Thanksgiving, that “growly” face she makes in almost every photo, her spunky glasses, her nack for story-telling, her passion to begin teaching.  I was always so jealous of Alden’s  style and clothes, she had traveled and seen various parts of the world, she was always laughing or making you laugh, I don’t think I ever saw her without a coconut in hand, she was incredibly easy to talk to and made you feel comfortable in an instant.  These girls were, plain and simple, living, living their lives to the fullest and following their dreams.  As a friend put it, there is so much to be said for the fact that they died not just wanting to make the world a better place, but actually taking action to make it one.  Though they were taken too soon, the world is a better place because of them, just as we are better people for having known them.

On December 26^th, we held a memorial service in Ilha de Mocambique to remember these amazing girls and the moments we shared with them.  Over thirty people attended, mostly the northern Moz 17ers, but also volunteers from other earlier Moz groups.  The memorial could not have been more perfect, perfect setting on the beach, beautiful sunset, we shared stories and remembered Alden and Lena how we knew them best, energetic, enthusiastic, always lighting up the room and living their lives to the fullest.

On the beach, we found an old boat on which we placed Alden and Lena’s photos surrounded by seashells and flowers.  We created an infiniti sign out of seashells, rocks, and coconut shells and placed it in front of their photos.  We read aloud quotes taken from Lena’s blog and quotes Alden had underlined in a book she had just finished reading.  We said a short prayer.  We took turns sharing stories and memories, amazed at how close you can get to people in such a short amount of time.  We wrote personal messages and put them inside decorated bottles for each girl.  We made wreaths out of flowers and leaves.  We had a moment of silence.  While singing the song we had written for homestay celebration, “Tudo Bom Para Nos”, we let the bottles and wreaths go out to sea.  We made a slideshow and revisited those images and memories we will never forget, two girls whose memories will live on.

It is still all extremely surreal. On Jan 6th, all the Moz 17ers are being flown down to Maputo for a memorial service there.  Thank you to Peace Corps for arranging this very necessary meeting so quickly.  We have been provided with both formal and informal means of support and assistance, but I think the best support comes from us all being together during this difficult time.  Everyone here is like a family and it is comforting having so many others to lean on.

It has been a rough week and something no one was prepared for.  Several volunteers are returning home for 45 days to reconnect with family and re-evaluate their decision to be here.  Many others are seeking site re-placements, hoping that a new scenery may help them begin again.  I hope not to lose more friends who decide to go home, but everyone deals with grief in their own way.  This has definitely brought our group closer together, we were close before but now are even more so.

I think a friend put it best, LIFE IS FRAGILE.  For me, that is a huge reason as to why I decided to do Peace Corps in the first place.  We have a limited time that could end at any second and we have to take in every moment and live it to its fullest.  I still look forward to this incredible opportunity I have been given.  Thank you to all of you for your support, it means more now than ever before.

My thoughts, prayers, and heart go out to both Alden and Lena’s families and friends, as well as those of the three other victims of the accident.  Mary, Mark, and Derek, we wish you all a quick, healthy recovery.  You have many here who will miss you and we think of you every day.

Alden and Lena, you will never be forgotten.  Rest in peace girls.  Estamos juntos.  Sempre.

PHOTOS!

I finally got the chance to upload some photos to facebook today!

Here is the link....
Pre-Service Training

Enjoy!

Swearing In

An application, interview, two months of medical appointments, waiting, waiting and more waiting, invitation to Mozambique, training in Philadelphia, homestay families, ten weeks of training in Mozambique…...after all that, yesterday, we finally officially became Peace Corps Volunteers! 

Leaving our families in Namaacha was somewhat bittersweet, excited to be moving on but sad to say good-bye.  Mae told me some nice things and said their door is always open for me.  Then we hopped on a bus and headed to Maputo to the US Ambassador’s house for our Swearing In ceremony.

The Ambassador Leslie Rowe, PC Mozambique Country Director Carl Swartz, the training staff, representatives from the Ministry of Education and other Mozambican government officials, a few current volunteers, and 50 excited Moz 17 trainees attended the hour or so long ceremony including a speech from Carl, speech from a volunteer in our group, speech from the Ambassador, and one from the Ministry of Education representative.  We stood with our right hands raised and repeated an oath swearing to uphold the US Constitution and serve as Peace Corps Volunteers.  In fact, it’s the same oath used to swear in the President.

Apparently the ceremony was televised.  Our waiter at lunch today asked where we were from and what we were doing in Mozambique and then said how he remembered seeing us on TV yesterday.  Got that a couple times actually, so pretty cool!

So now we can officially call ourselves Peace Corps Volunteers!!  In a couple days, we begin what we all came here to do.  It’s bittersweet to see everyone leave to go all over the country, sad leaving good friends, but excited for everyone and the new experiences we are all about to have.  :)

Also, today I took my first shower with running water in almost 70 days!

Here are a few pictures.  Hopefully I'll be able to upload all of the pictures from Training soon!

Moz 17 Peace Corps VOLUNTEERS

Me with Carl, PC Mozambique Country Director

Me with Leslie Rowe, US Ambassador

Updates from Week 9

My, what a week it has been!  Had a scavenger hunt, model school finished, little kids are exhausting, HIV/AIDS Day march, homestay celebration  party, confirmation ceremony and party for Senia, and only 3 more days til our Swearing In Ceremony where we become official Peace Corps Volunteers!

So, to start, last weekend, Jill and Mac organized a scavenger hunt!  The volunteers divided into teams of four or five people and we ran all over Namaacha, completing tasks like finding a black goat, a white goat, and a black and white goat, a lizard, make a human pyramid, take photos wearing our batas (white coats very similar to lab coats that all teachers wear), a photo inside our mosquito nets, playing pool, inside a chapa, with a few local figures like the internet café man, climb a tree, etc.  And guess who’s team won……I DID!  Me, Mary Z, Mary L, and Ashley completed the most tasks, earning the most points and we returned first.  Love me some competition and victory!

This week, three cousins visited my family, two six year old boys and a thirteen year old boy.  The kids are hilarious and have unbelievable amounts of energy!  They love playing cards, and I have taught them Slap Jack, Spoons, and Uno.  They were blown away when I showed them how to make a paper airplane and then demonstrated how they can fly it.  They also LOVE to dance, especially to Michael Jackson and even break dance, do MJ’s spin move, and moonwalk.  Though they don’t understand much English, they were thrilled to watch my movies, including all three Toy Stories, Aladdin, Madagascar, and Ratatouille.  Felt very much like any American family, just sitting around the table playing cards after dinner and watching a movie together.

Thursday, Dec 1^st was HIV/AIDS Day.  In acknowledgement, that morning we joined others in a march along the main street of Namaacha, carrying banners with messages of spreading the word about HIV transmission, encouraging testing and use of condoms, etc., walking about 15 minutes or so, ending at an AIDS monument where a few people spoke, placed flowers, and sang a couple songs.  There were about 150 people in attendance.  Then, of all things, there was a basketball game (two Mozambican teenage teams), somewhat random, but fun to watch. 

Michael, a volunteer who stayed with my family before and who has completed his two years of service, came to visit Thursday before he returns home to the US.  My family prepared a big dinner for him, complete with a heart-shaped cake.   Our neighbors came over, and all the family sat together for a tasty dinner they had clearly put a lot of work in to.  It was a simple moment, but seeing how happy they were having him visit and the relationship he had created with them was a great reminder about why I am here and the potential I have to create equally meaningful relationships.  At times during the past few weeks, I have gotten somewhat sad because my family was always very busy and not really around much, but I have come to realize how much they have adjusted their lives by having me stay with them and how great of an experience this has been.  Yeah, maybe I could have put in more effort to do more with them, but in this last week, I have actually felt like part of the family during those simple moments of playing cards, eating dinner together, and watching movies. 

Apparently, my mae is more comfortable with me too as she had no hesitation in telling me that I had become more gorda (fatter) since coming here!  During that same fancy dinner with Michael, she told me how I had been skinny when I arrived and now I was “um pouco mais gorda”, I tried to take it as a compliment…

Saturday, Peace Corps held a party to celebrate the homestay families.  There were a few speeches, (one by a volunteer, others by Namaacha figures), an incredible spread of food (so many chickens, beef, matapa, salad, pasta, fish, rice, beans, cake!!), followed by music and dancing.  My mae and the two visiting younger cousins came, and somehow I became in charge of the kids for the entire duration of the party, turning in to Mama Sara.  Those kids were lots of fun, but so exhausting!  By the end of the afternoon, despite my best efforts to keep them entertained by my silly dancing, they were definitely tired and cranky and behaving like typical little boys who had missed their naptime.

Sunday, I woke up around 5am, and was greeted by about five new women at the house who were beginning to prepare for a party celebrating my sister’s Confirmation.  As I waited to leave for church, I debated whether or not there was some way I could help them or whether it was better to just stay out of their way.  (I did offer to help, but they refuted me anyway.) 

I thought the two hour mass I attended many weeks ago was long, but it compared nothing to Sunday’s four and a half hour long service.   Yes, you read that correctly, four and a half hours!  Still, even after 9 weeks of Portuguese, I understood very little about what was going on or being said.  The mix of Portuguese and Changana certainly makes it difficult to follow, and, needless to say, difficult to stay awake. 

Finally, at 12:30pm , the mass ended and we returned home, the women still cooking and prepping!  Around 4pm, my sister came back from her lunch at the church and was escorted into the backyard by singing and clapping.  We ate incredible amounts of food including the typical rice, beans, potatoes, egg salad, lots of cake, but also this new special kind of chicken which was delicious (they called it frango de Zambezia, not sure what the sauce was but it was awesome!) and my first time eating cow head. 

Yup, cow head!  On Friday, I watched my brother remove the fur from the head, then he cooked it in a pot of salted water over an open fire.  Then they removed it from the skull and used a hatchet to cut out the brain, throwing all the parts (meat, brain, nose, ears, tongue) together in a pot with some onions and peppers and continued cooking.  It tasted basically like normal stew meat, though I did pick around all the foreign looking parts this time.  Maybe next time, I’ll try some brains….

But anyway, the party was a lot of fun!  We had so much cake!  They have the guest of honor cut the cake and then go around to important family members, feeding them bites of the cake.  During the gift giving part of the party, everyone sings and claps as each person gives their gift and kisses the receiver on both cheeks.   The Mozambicans certainly do love their music and dancing!

Monday we had our final language test, and this week we are prepping for heading off to site!  Thursday is our Swearing In Ceremony which will be held at the Ambassador’s house, then Friday we are headed to our regions for a conference!  Just a week from Monday, we will be at our sites!

Thanksgiving in Mozambique

No turkey from the grocery store this year!  This year, we kill our own turkeys!

But first you have to catch the turkeys, and boy are those guys fast!  We arranged to have a local restaurant cook the turkey for us for Thanksgiving dinner, but a few of us assisted in the turkey preparation beforehand.  For a good ten minutes or so, Sam, Sean, and Derek chased around the turkeys as they flew over fences, behind buildings, and around the yard behind the restaurant, the turkeys running for their lives, literally.  We were told by the owner that we could have the turkeys that fly because those are the ones that don’t have eggs, supposedly.  Finally, after much running around and with the help of a few boys who work at the restaurant, we finally caught our two turkeys!  I even took a turn holding the turkey because why not, right?  I was fortunate enough to be passed the turkey right as it took a huge poo, but luckily enough for me, it missed landing on my shoe by a mere couple inches.

Then it was time to kill them.  I’ll spare you the details since I think you can imagine pretty well how it works now after my post about killing the chicken.  Let’s just say, turkeys are larger than chickens so there is definitely more blood.  Never before did I ever think I would ever see my own Thanksgiving turkey lose its life right there in front of my own eyes! 

We had Thanksgiving dinner Friday night, potluck style.  Eight girls came over to my house and we made stuffing, gravy, salad, garlic mashed potatoes, spinach dip (except using kouve), deviled eggs, and green bean casserole, all using only carvao (a super miniaturized stove-top like BBQ using charcoal as the heat source).  I think we may have overwhelmed my family a bit, my grandma just took a seat outside eyeing our every move, and they probably think we are all insane Americans, but everything came out pretty good!  

Originally worried about having enough food, I was so surprised by the amount of food everyone brought!  Turkey, apple tarts, fudge, breads, dips, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cake, brownies, veggies, sweet potatoes, rice pudding!  So much food!  All in all, it was a great Thanksgiving, good food, good company.  I have a lot to be thankful for :).

Tres Fronteiras

Our "Trail"

Those of us that made the venture!

View from the top!  From the left, Mozambique then Swaziland, then South Africa!

Model School

This week and next, for the conclusion of our training, is Model School in which we get the opportunity to actually teach some real students.  We are divided into groups of about 3-5 people based on our subjects and alternate teaching lessons to either 8^th, 9^th, or 10^th grade classes of about 10-20 students (depending on the grade and whether students decide to attend that day).  The students volunteer to come to our model lessons as this is currently their summer vacation period. 

Today I taught 8^th grade Biology to two different turmas (classes) and it went really well!  My group is doing a unit on the Nervous System and so I taught about overall brain anatomy and the functions of the different regions of the brain, yes all in Portuguese.  During my 45 minute lesson, I did an activity with an egg in a jar full of water to demonstrate how CSF protects the brain (by the way, CSF in Portuguese is o liquido cefalorraquidiano in case you were wondering…just the beginning of the fun science vocab I get to attempt to pronounce correctly), and I had a drawing of the brain that I used in explaining the functions of each lobe and the cerebellum and brain stem. 

I had a lot of fun standing in front of the class and I think the students did too!  Other volunteers watch while we teach and I got some really positive feedback!  It got me really excited about having my own class of students in a couple months, though it is going to be very different teaching potentially 60-80 students per class versus just 10, but I am ready for the challenge!

I only teach one more review lesson next week, so now, I am basically done with training and am sort of just waiting out these next two weeks before we head to site!  

Ever been in three countries at once?

About a five mile hike outside of Namaacha is “Tres Fronteiras”, where the borders of Swaziland, South Africa and Mozambique meet.  About 20 of us ventured to find this location Sunday morning, not quite sure exactly where we were headed or what was in store for us.  Our only instructions from past volunteers were to follow the Swaziland – Mozambique border fence to the top of a hill. 

For the first few miles it was a fairly easy walk along the road, but in the distance we noticed the fence ascending straight up the looming mountain… Not quite sure if this was the correct trail, but seeing no other path, we decided to just stay along the fence as it was the most promising option of finding the Tres Fronteiras point.

The trail began to ascend steeply as it narrowed, on our left a barbed wire fence, on our right spikier and spikier bushes.  Soon our “trail,” if it could be called a trail at all really, basically disappeared, but we were determined to continue to follow this fence to our destination and there was no turning back.  At one point, spiky bushes blocked our path and we had to cut through them a bit, then duck down (pretty much on our hands and knees) under the spiky branches, helping to free each other’s caught clothing and backpacks.  Then the trail got even steeper, at least a 50^o incline, and the dirt under our feet turned to loose rocks, requiring one to walk with caution and ensure one foot was firmly planted before lifting the second. 

Finally we reached the summit, and what an incredible view!!  Hopefully I can upload some photos soon! 

The view definitely made the hike up worth the inflicted scrapes and effort, but it is a hike I am fine with only ever doing once and don’t really need to venture out to do again.

A Magnificent Matola Market for Many Menus!

Thanksgiving is coming up and being in Africa on the other side of the world isn’t stopping us!  On Friday, we are having Thanksgiving dinner, potluck style.  Somehow I became one of the people in charge of the festivities, but being in charge has its perks! 

Such as today, when we were driven to the most awesome place ever….Shop Rite in Matola!  Shop Rite is a giant grocery store with almost everything you can possibly find in your own local Albertson’s: produce, cheese, meat, cereal, milk, a bakery, condiments and spices, ice cream, etc, etc. 

Now this might not sound very exciting to most, but when your market pretty much only has potatoes, tomatoes, onions, cabbage, and bananas, just seeing pineapple, real cheese (goat cheese, feta, gouda, cheddar!),  and the variety of other types of food available (not even buying them right now, but just seeing them and seeing they exist) is an incredible feeling!  It was even somewhat overwhelming to consider all the possible things we can make and I am anxious to go to site and be able to cook my own food!

Drum Roll please........

First of all, shout out to my brother and sister-in-law! Congratulations Mike and Kali! Can't wait to meet my new niece, Lucy! And happy almost birthday to my nephew Mason!

So yesterday we finally learned where we will be living for the next two years!! They passed out envelopes to each of us and inside was the name of our site and which province it is in and then we all went and stood on a giant map of Mozambique drawn in chalk across a basketball court.  So drum roll please.................

I am headed up north to the province of Nampula to a city called Murrupula.  I know very very little about the site, but I'll share with you what I have discovered so far....

I am assigned to teach Biology and computers (apparently if you know how to use Word and Excel, then you are a computer expert) and I have a roommate, Erica, who is also a Moz 17er with me.  We are going to be re-opening the site in Murrupula.  Apparently, the school was not doing repairs that needed to be completed on the volunteer housing there, so Peace Corps stopped sending them volunteers until they did the repairs.  So, supposedly the repairs are done, and Peace Corps is making another appearance!  Though, I know nothing about what the housing is going to be like or what the school is like, or really anything else yet...

Murrupula is about an hour chapa ride from the big city of Nampula, so it is easily accessible and should be pretty easy for me to get whatever things I need.  It is also only a couple hours from Angoche (a beautiful beach) or about four hours from Ilha de Mocambique (another beautiful beach).  There are 12 other volunteers in my group who are also going to the Nampula province.

So that's pretty much all I know for now.  It is definitely going to be an adventure!

Never know what you might run across in Mozambique...

On Sunday, I hiked with a few friends to the Cascatas again.  We were smarter this time and decided not to go at the hottest time of the day and planned a picnic for some much needed relaxing time on our day off.

On our hike back, we encountered something I never thought would happen during my Peace Corps adventure….we happened upon a photo shoot!!  I’m not kidding! Walking along, suddenly we saw a girl in a long glamorous green gown, complete with peacock feathers.   There at the base of the Cascatas was a second model in the middle of a photo shoot, posing glamorously atop a large boulder with her gown draped elegantly across the rock.  The photographers saw us six Americans watching and urged for us to join the model!  (I don’t know who was probably more surprised, us on seeing a photo shoot, or them on seeing six American girls.)  Though definitely not in our proper modeling attire and quite sweaty and not feeling any bit glamorous, especially next to this gorgeous Mozambicana model, we eagerly jumped at the opportunity and the photographers clicked away on their cameras.  Apparently they work with a Mozambique designer  and these gowns are going to be featured during Mozambique Fashion Week in December.  (Who knew they have fashion week in Mozambique?!)

But my favorite moment of the day above being a model for a few minutes, was dinner.  Mary and I decided to make tacos for our families.  Her five siblings/cousins joined my sister and cousin for a fabulous taco night.  It was one of my favorite moments ever sitting around the table with them, chatting in Portuguese, having them laugh and correct my Portuguese, and them even trying to teach us Xangana (the local language).  They loved the tacos and I was amazed at how much Mary’s little brothers could eat!  It was a simple moment, but one of those moments where I thought to myself, this is why I am here, for moments like this J.

On Monday, we went to an orphanage here in Namaacha and played with the kids there a bit.  The orphanage was started in 2006 by two nuns and has about 60 children.  The kids don’t live there, but do receive food, learn all the things a parent would teach them like how to wash dishes and clothes or how to take a bath, and receive some tutoring.  If the kids make it through 7^th grade, the nuns pay for them to go to boarding school which is quite a gift and hopefully serves as some motivation for these children who do not come from very promising circumstances or backgrounds.  We were only there for an hour or two, but played games like duck duck goose, ride that pony, jigalo, red light-green light, taught them the song “Head Shoulders Knees and Toes” and they taught us a couple games.

Inhambane

Took a while, but here are a few photos from my site visit...

Inhambane Province

Boat across the bay to Inhambane city

Tofo Beach

Falafel dinner

Site Visits

This past week, we ventured beyond Namaacha and stayed with currently serving volunteers at their sites, getting a first-hand glimpse of what life as a volunteer in Mozambique might be like.  People traveled all over the country, to all 10 provinces, revealing the great size of the country and differing experiences each and every volunteer here has/can have.

I visited the city of Homoine in the Inhambane province.  (Still considered southern Mozambique, Inhambane is located two provinces north of Maputo.)  After spending the night in Maputo on Friday (Thai food for dinner was delicious), we left the hotel at 4am and were driven by Peace Corps to Junta, the bus stop in Maputo for everything headed up North and beyond.  Junta is epitome of every stereotype about African transportation.  We had been briefed by other volunteers about the potential scariness or overwhelming-ness of Junta and didn’t really know what to expect.  Thank goodness Peace Corps continued to baby us and had four of our language teachers accompany us at Junta to make sure we got on the right/safe bus.  They even waited until the bus actually drove out of the parking lot to make sure we were properly on our way. 

Let me see if I can paint a proper picture of Junta.  There are chapas (~20 seats), medium sized buses (~30 seats), and large buses (~50 seats) parked on a dirt lot a little smaller than a football field, most with engines on and idling.  The buses are parked just close enough for someone to walk between and there are signs in front of some stating where they are going and how much it costs.  Drivers walk around asking where you are headed, saying they will offer you a good price to wherever and trying to convince you that’s where you want to go instead.  People wander about selling soda, water, crackers, capulanas, sunglasses, clothes, even nail polish!  Sitting waiting for the chapa to leave, I tried to not make eye contact with the vendors pacing around outside my window so they didn’t think I wanted to buy anything.  People stand on top of the large buses (like charter sized buses) hauling large suitcases, tables, chairs, mattresses, etc. on top of the roof, creating a pile about 15-20 feet high!  All in all, Junta is definitely not a place one should walk around looking lost or confused, despite the inevitability of feeling lost and confused by all the commotion.  I never felt unsafe, just wary and cautious and it was certainly comforting having our language teachers there to guide us around.

So we found our bus, then proceeded to sit on it waiting to leave for about an hour and a half.  I don’t know how or who decides because I don’t think any sort of bus schedule exists, but eventually the bus filled up and left around 6:30am (we left our hotel at 4:30am).  Oops, only to exit the lot then stop to load four wooden benches underneath, which took another good 15 minutes or so….

But overall, the ride was much more spatious than I had anticipated and luckily it wasn’t too hot of a day.  Amazingly, the road (Dad, you can highlight the N1 for me on your map), was unbelievably straight, I don’t think we ever once made a turn or even a bend for that matter.  The driver stops every few hours or so and people can get off to go to the bathroom (just squat on the side of the road, behind some bushes if they are around) or vendors run up to the windows selling water, sodas, cookies, mangos, bananas, cashews and even stranger things like if you need a straw mat. 

After about 9 hours, we arrived in Maxixe and met up with the volunteer we were visiting, Yvette.  After lunch at the market in Maxixe, it was another 45ish minute chapa ride(our first chapa ran out of gas) to Homoine, followed by a 20-30 minute walk to Yvette’s house.

So that was our 10 hour adventure to arrive in Homoine.  Inhambane is an unbelievably beautiful province.  There are tons of trees (palms, mangos, and others) and everywhere you look is green green green.  We even saw a rainbow! The city itself is fairly small, but nearby Maxixe has an amazing market called Taurus that has lots of fun things like soy sauce, spices, cereal, broccoli, cauliflower, cheese, and other goodies. 

Yvette is an English teacher at a teacher trainer institute and lives on the school grounds.  She usually has running water (and even running, HOT water), but unfortunately the pump has been broken for a couple months so we didn’t get the pleasure of taking hot normal showers and continued using buckets.  But the bathroom was inside which was a nice change.  Her place has a living room, kitchen, and three bedrooms, very spacious and lots of natural light. 

During our visit, we met many other volunteers who live in nearby cities either down the road about 20 minutes or off the main highway about an hour or so away.  They met us for lunch in Maxixe (I ate a surprisingly very delicious hamburger).  Then a huge storm started and, totally unprepared for rain, we decided to brace the storm and run through the flooded streets to the chapa stop about a 15 minute walk away.  Yvette almost lost her sandals in the flooded streets and people definitely were very amused to see three Americans running through the thunderstorm.  Of course, about 10 minutes after we got on the chapa, it stopped raining…

During the rest of our visit, we walked around the village center and the market in Homoine, relaxed and chatted with Yvette and other volunteers, and just enjoyed the beautiful view around us.  The best part was taking a boat then a chapa to the beautiful beach in Tofo for a fantastic beach day (let me just say, that never when I imagined my days in Peace Corps, did I imagine lounging for the entire day at a gorgeous beach with crystal blue water the perfect temperature for swimming).  It was definitely a nice change of pace being able to cook for ourselves!  We made pancakes, tacos, stew, but the best dinner by far was falafel, complete with pita, yogurt sauce,  cucumber, tomato, salad, and of course hummus!  SO DELICIOUS!

I wish I could transcribe every second of every experience into words, but I am finding that to be nearly impossible, but I greatly accept any questions you may have regarding anything, big or small!!

Mostly, the site visit served to show what life can be like and meeting and talking with so many volunteers revealed the great diversity in living situations, work situations, and experiences.  On Wednesday, we find out our own site placement and I can’t wait to see what my adventure will be like…

Permagarden

This weekend we learned how to make a Permagarden (permanent garden).  The Permagarden technique is something universally done among Peace Corps volunteers in an effort to promote families in the community to develop and sustain their own garden, making for cheaper, healthier lifestyles and even a possible source of income.

As most you of probably already know, I am not a keen lover of gardening but for some reason the idea of setting up my own garden once I get to site sounds kind of fun! (Maybe it is because I am definitely lacking vegetables in my diet…)  But let me tell you, starting a garden from scratch is quite the process!

We started the day bright and early learning about composting.  (Dad, I can give you all kinds of tips now for your garden in the backyard!)  We used machetes and hoes to collect, chop, dig up, and gather green and brown materials to make our compost pile.  It rained super hard last night, so it was a pretty muddy adventure climbing through shrubs and gathering the materials. 

We dug a small hole about 10cm deep and then laid sticks across it to allow for some air flow.  Then we alternately added brown material, green material, soil/manure to make a pile about 1m tall.  We covered it with banana leaves to help retain some moisture and hopefully our pile will start to decompose in a few weeks to make some nice compost!

Then we turned to the garden.  The past group of volunteers had started a garden, but no one had kept it up, so we started with weeding and cleaning up the area a bit.  Then we made our planting beds, first digging up the dirt with the hoe, then forming mounds about a meter wide, then double digging and mixing in charcoal, manure, and compost with the soil, then building berms around the perimeter of the garden, and making pathways between planting beds.  Then we planted lemongrass and sweet potatoes around the perimeter in the berms which apparently are natural repellents.  I had no idea you could just plant the stalk of the plant and it will grow!  We filled our planting beds with tomatoes, corn, lettuce, and beans. 

Here is the final product!

A Few Distinct Differences

This will probably be a list that I will continuously add to, and I don’t intend to generalize for all of Mozambique, but these are a few things (not including the obvious like speaking another language or killing your own chicken) I have observed during my few weeks here in Namaacha that are distinctly different from things seen/done in the US.

·         Trash disposal: Walking down the street, it is not uncommon to pass open, unwatched fires or to see plumes of white smoke in the distance.  These are merely trash disposal methods.  So it’s probably not the greatest for the atmosphere or the air we breathe, but you gotta do something with your trash, and there is no organized trash pickup service or dump, so the Mozambique method is simply to burn it all. 

·         Passear – Passearing, or just wandering or walking, is a favorite pastime for Mozambiquans.  But my gosh do they walk slow!  And when you think slow, think about 100 times slower than what you might consider slow.

·         Strong women – The concept of chivalry and men carrying heavier things is not commonplace here, women do considerably all the heavy lifting around the house.  And by heavy lifting, I mean carrying incredible loads on top of their heads.  It really is a miraculous thing to see, women and girls carrying bundles of wood, barrels of water, buckets, whatever on their heads walking down the street, up hills, over cobblestones with the most relaxed ease!  How these things balance on their heads and how their necks can support such incredible weights, I have no idea…

·         Cars – Here, pedestrians have the right to get out of the way of vehicles.  Cars do not slow and do not really swerve but expect you if you are walking to move out of their way.  And not only do they drive on the other side of the road here, they also sometimes drive on both sides of the road.

·         Children – Once a kid has the ability to walk, they are pretty much independent.  It is not unusal to pass a group of two or three year olds playing on the street with no adult supervision in sight.  For the little kids who can’t walk yet, mothers do not let them stop them from doing things around the house and simply tie them to their backs snugly with a capulana. 

·         Obedience – Another interesting thing regarding children is their obedience towards their parents.  Never have I heard my siblings defy my parents or ask them why they had to do something.  Sometimes I can tell that they might be upset or not want to set the table or wash the dishes that night or my sister will tell my brother to do it, but never do they say no or argue with my mae.  For instance, here is a short anecdote.  The other night for dinner, my sister made a fruit salad.  Upon seeing that she had forgotten to add oranges to the salad, my mae scolded my sister telling her she made it improperly and needed to put an orange in it.  So my sister got up and went to the market and bought an orange to add to the fruit salad.  If it had been a teenager in the US, there would inevitably have been back talk and arguing, but here my sister just sucked it up and did what she was told.  When she came back, my mae asked where she had gone and said she didn’t mean for her to go right then, but even I heard her tell her to go and I don’t know much Portuguese. 

A Few American Influences I've Seen in Namaacha

·         Clothing: On Wednesdays and Saturdays, Namaacha has what is called ShopRite in which vendors gather in this outside marketplace and sell various things.  Amongst people selling food, shoes, bags, and capulanas, are many clothing sellers.  I have no idea how the vendors come to aquire the clothing, but I assume most of it is second-hand items donated by Americans.  It is not unusual to see residents walking around in shirts featuring logos of American sports teams or American universities and English phrases which make one question whether the person wearing the shirt understands the words written on it. 

·         Music: Residents here love their music and love blasting their music at all hours of the day.  My family uses the TV as their speaker, but many families have gigantic speakers in their homes making it feel like one is constantly in a discotech (club).  American music is everywhere, everything from Mariah Carey to Akon to Snoop Dogg to Katy Perry and Lady Gaga to music from the 80s.  I was walking to my class the other day and a teenage guy thinking he was all cool was walking down the road blasting Celine Dion’s “A New Day”.  My Irma sings a lot and I love when she sings along to English songs not really saying any words in English, but making sounds that are similar to what the actual words are.  Every now and then, I try to translate a song for them or at least tell them what the song is generally about, but my language skills are still in the making, so I am somewhat limited still.

·         TV:  The other night Mr. Popper’s Penguins, the recent movie with Jim Carey which I think came out just this summer in the US, was on TV here in English with Portuguese subtitles.   Later, I watched CSI: Miami with my mae, also in English with subtitles.  Another volunteer mentioned that she has watched Disney Channel and even “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” with her family.  I wonder who decides which programs make it to the other side of the world…

Visiting a Mozambican School

On Tuesday, we visited real Mozambique classes.  The science volunteers went together to a technical school in Matola, a large city about an hour outside Namaacha. 

First off, we have been prepped by other current volunteers about what to expect in the typical secondary school classroom.   For instance, class sizes typically exceed 100 students (yes, just 1 teacher), resources consist of merely a blackboard, and students cram into desks or benches or frequently sit on the floor.  Professors, though greatly respected in this culture, have a reputation for simply not showing up to class or being late, and teaching styles typically center around the professor writing definitions on the board and students simply copying the notes with little explanation or classroom participation. 

However, this technical school in Matola showed the other side of things.  This school has about 2500 students and 120 professors, if you do the math, that’s about a 20:1 ratio.  (In comparison, the nearby secondary school has 9000 students and probably significantly fewer professors.)  The technical school has 16 different areas of study including electrical engineering, mechanics, biochemistry, medicine, biology, etc. 

I observed an organic chemistry class.  The class had only 25-30 students and there was a blackboard and a periodic table on the wall.  The 45 minute lesson aimed at preparation for an upcoming exam and the teacher did somewhat a review of what the students should know, giving examples and asking for classroom participation.  The professor walked around the room while he lectured, he frequently asked “Estamos juntos?” (“Are we together? Do we all understand?”) and gave clear examples of what he expected of the students, and he seemed greatly respected by them. 

After the lessons, we met the head director of the school and then were given a tour.  The school has a computer lab with about 20 computers, but they said many were broken or not functioning well.  Their library consisted of about 4 or 5 bookshelves of books and some maps on the walls and the pedagogic director explained how they were trying to obtain more books but it was expensive.  The school also had a supply room with all the typical items one might find in a chemistry lab class: flasks, beakers, test tubes, even chemical compounds for experiments.  Granted there weren’t nearly as many items as one might see in a school for 2500 students in the US, but even the presence of any sort of chemical or laboratory equipment is extremely rare in most schools here. 

It was definitely an interesting experience visiting this technical school, but for most of us volunteers, our reality once we get to site will most likely be quite different than what we saw here.  In only a few weeks we’ll find out where we will be living for the next two years!

Line Dancing in Africa

Today we had our second Ngoma Time.  I thought there would be more Mozambiquans like last week, but today was just us and our professors, so about 20 non-Americans, but it was still fun.  The math volunteers did a rap song, a few volunteers played some music (guitar, drum), others organized some field day games like three-legged race, sack races, wheelbarrow racing, and crab walking which the professors excitedly participated in and it was a blast! 

I made up and taught a group of people a line dance to the song, “Country Girl Shake It for Me” (Shout out to Mary, Courtney, Chelsea, and Sam, my Incahoots buddies! You better all be praciting those line dance moves to do when I get back!)  

Anyways, here is a short clip of the dance we did.  Enjoy!

My first chicken.....

Tuesday for language class, we cooked with our maes (my mae was working, so my Irma came).  They showed us how to make a Mozambique dish while we made them an American dish.  We made for them the very American dish: chicken tacos. 

Many of you have heard stories about having to kill your own chicken here in Africa, and today was the first day I witnessed this process.  I did not have the heart nor the guts to take the chicken’s life myself, and let my friend Anna do the deed (she had already done it a few times before with her mae.)

DISCLAIMER: STOP READING NOW IF YOU DON’T LIKE BLOOD or goriness or animal cruelty or if you would like to continue thinking that chicken always comes from the grocery store, nicely plucked and packaged.  This is definitely not something for the faint of heart…..

So you choose to keep reading? You asked for it, so here’s how it’s done. 

You lay the live chicken on its side on the ground, its wings together behind its back then proceed to hold it down by stepping on its wings with your foot and holding down its feet with your other foot.  The chicken does not fight or even move really, like it knows its inevitable fate and is in a sort of trance state (the chicken actually moves more when it is “dead”/dying). 

Then you take the knife and slice the chicken’s head off, just like that.  (Side note: The knives here are typically not the sharpest.  As a result, rather than slice in a quick fluid motion, one must sort of saw back and forth, somewhat hacking at the chicken’s neck, trying to be “humane” and do it as quick as possible.  And if the knife is too dull to make it all the way through the chicken’s neck, you grasp around the cut part  and bend it open so that the blood can flow out as the chicken dies slowly.)  The blood squirted all over Anna’s foot (she was wearing sandals), yet she just kept cutting through that chicken’s neck, trying to go quickly as it was clearly still alive with twitching feet. 

Once the head is fully cut off, the legs continue to kick and the eyes still move around, the beak even opening and closing as the decapitated head lies there on the dirt.  This lasted for at least a few minutes, maybe even longer, probably shorter but feeling longer.  Gives a whole new perspective on the idiom “running around like a chicken with its head cut off”.  Thank goodness this chicken wasn’t running around though, but those legs continued to twitch and the blood continued to spurt out.

And then the chicken finally stops breathing and the blood stops flowing and now it is time to pluck it.  You put the chicken into a bowl and pour boiling water over it and then just pluck out those feathers.  (I swear, the chest still moved up and down as we plucked this chicken.)  With four of us doing it, the plucking went fairly quickly, like 10 minutes or so. 

Then Dylan’s mae proceeded to separate the chicken parts.  First, simply cutting off the feet, then the wings, then we were in for an anatomy lesson.  She uncovered basically the entire organ system of the chicken: liver, stomach, intestines, lungs, unrecognizable parts, just sitting there in the bowl with the feet, legs, wings, etc.  I’m pretty sure they use almost all parts of the chicken at some point as typically nothing is wasted here, but I have never been served the organs, at least not that I know of…  I’m still not sure why, but she also inverted the butt part of the chicken, which yes contained poop, and removed the inner lining (the poopy part), saving the rest.  She then braided the intestines. 

IF YOU STOPPED READING BEFORE, YOU CAN CONTINUE NOW.  NO MORE BLOOD OR GORE.

Now it was time to make our tacos.  Dylan separated out the meat part of the chicken from the other organs and body parts while I diced onion, tomato, garlic, green pepper, and lettuce and Anna made the tortilla dough.  None of us had made our own tortillas before, but it actually all turned out really good.  I fried the dough and formed them into taco shell shapes and then demonstrated how to assemble the taco.  The maes and our professors seemed very hesitant, but quickly said how good it was and went back for seconds and thirds.  The maes made a leafy dish with coconut and almond milk and xima (corn meal) and rice.  Made for a delicious lunch! 

Just something you might remember next time you go to the grocery store to buy your chicken….

25th Anniversary of the Mbuzini Tragedy

On June 25^th, 1975, Mozambique became an independent nation with Samora Machel as its first president.  Sadly, on October 19^th, 1986, Samora Machel, along with 34 others, died in a mysterious plane crash over Mbuzini, South Africa, under very questionable circumstances.  Thus, 2011 marks the 25^th anniversary commemorating the tragic events that occurred at Mbuzini.

This Monday, we traveled to Mbuzini, to the site of the plane crash to attend a commemoration ceremony.  We left bright and early at 6:30am crammed into Peace Corps vehicles and drove the 20 minutes or so to the South Africa/Mozambique border.  It seemed all of Namaacha was leaving to go to Mbuzini as well.  Huge charter buses shuttled people down the one way paved road to the border.  Once at the border, we joined the lines of people waiting to cross the double, barbed-wire fences.  Organized chaos, of course. 

As we crossed the double fence, people put red dye on the cuticle of our thumbs, making it look like we were bleeding but serving as our temporary passports for the day and permitting us to return to Mozambique after the ceremony.  We were then funneled between two fences, feeling like we were being herded like cattle.  (Indeed, there were cattle outside the fences and the occasional gigantic cow-pie as we walked along.)  We then descended this steep, rocky hill and approached the amphitheater.

The first thing I thought was how different this would be if we were in the US.  First off, this amphitheater violated every handicapped-accessible requirement, the main entrance requiring one to walk down a steep grassy hill and cross a few boulder-laden paths.  They literally just plopped down an amphitheater at the site of the plane crash.  The amphitheater itself, though, resembled any one might find at an American school, concrete seats overlooking a central stage area.  There was a main stage with a few seats in front of it, then the larger amphitheater sat on the left, and more plastic chairs were placed under a huge tent to the right (where we sat).  They had flat screen televisions throughout so one could better see what was happening on stage/who was talking.  Thousands of people were in attendance (The photos I have of the amphitheater I took when we first got there, but it definitely filled in shortly after). 

Another very un-American thing, the accessibility of the pieces/scraps of plane parts from the plane crash.  No one sat guarding or overlooking the plane remnants, and one was free to climb over them and take photos as they pleased. 

The ceremony itself began informally with a few dance groups and songs.  Then, all of a sudden the sound of a helicopter filled the air and right to our right, the presidents of South Africa and Mozambique landed.  We then sang the national anthem of South Africa and Mozambique (which I also sing every day before class, so I am slowly memorizing the Mozambique national anthem).  Following, the Presidents, families of survivors and other important people laid wreaths on the memorial site and the names of the 35 victims were read.  Next, there were prayers in several religions: Baha’I, Christianity, Hindu, Islam and African Tradition.  Then the Premier of the Province spoke, followed by Machel’s son.  Still, 25 years later, he choked back tears as he spoke about his father.  Then the Presidents of Mozambique and South Africa spoke about Machel, the generosity of each country towards the other and how the tragic event united them in comradery, etc.  (Everything was translated in either Portuguese or English, so it was definitely a long ceremony.)

We ended up leaving early, part way through the Mozambique President’s speech, which was strange to me, but I just do what I am told.  That’s another interesting thing, people kind of just walk around as they please during the whole ceremony, while people are giving their speeches.  Interesting cultural differences.

Some Photos :)

Hiked to the Cascades in Namaacha.  About a 6-8 mile hike.  Don't worry, didn't swim in the water.  (Also, not much of a waterfall right now, perhaps after it rains...)

My house

My Kitchen

Our Living Room

My Bedroom

Pretty View of Namaacha 

The bathroom (cuz I know you were wondering)

Week 2 in Namaacha

So this internet thing is somewhat frustrating, but I have decided that if that is the most frustrating thing, then I think I am doing pretty well.  But here is a summary of Week 2 in Namaacha....

Each day, I wake up around 5am to the sound of roosters, though whoever said roosters only crow at sunrise is a liar, they definitely cock-a-doodle-doo at all hours of the day and night… Some mornings, I may be greeted with the presence of a cockroach lying on my floor.  I'm not sure why, but they lie there on their backs, seemingly dead, until you touch them and those legs moving signal they are indeed still alive.   Yes, disgusting, I will be the first to admit that I hate cockroaches, but after hearing about all the other critters I could find someday, I can live with the only four cockroaches I have seen in my room while I have been here and when they are lying there on their backs and not running around, they are easy to sweep into a dust pan and dispose of far away.  I faithfully tuck in my mosquito net every day, all day and night, so as to prevent as much as I can, such critters from potentially cuddling with me at night, as I have heard stories from other volunteers…

My family always has water already boiling for me to use to take my shower bath and then I eat breakfast, typically bread or an egg and I am beginning to miss milk and cereal.  Then it is time for language class.  As I think I said, my class has only three people in it.  My Portuguese is improving a little at a time J; learning how to conjugate verbs in different forms so I don’t always have to speak in the infinitive, exposure to more vocabulary, etc.  Sometimes it can be frustrating when I still don’t understand things my family tells me, but I have to remind myself that, though it feels like I have been here forever, it has only been less than two weeks.  And when it seems nearly impossible that in eight weeks or so I will have to be at a level of Portuguese good enough to teach biology, I remind myself how much I have learned in just these less than two weeks.  Pouco a pouco, little by little…..

Our daily lessons now also include Technical training to teach us how to teach, essentially.  We are divided into which subject we are “supposed” (and I use quotes because it is highly likely that once you get to site, the subject changes) to teach.  This week we discussed how to incorporate the community into our lessons as relevant examples and did some mini lesson planning, even giving a 10 minute biology lesson, yes in Portuguese! 

Once a week, we have a HUB day in which all the volunteers meet together and, this week, we discussed common medical diseases contracted by Mozambique volunteers (makes you not want to go anywhere, swim in anything, eat anything, etc.), and HIV/AIDS in Mozambique. 

After we had what was probably one of my favorite activities thus far: Ngoma Time.  We will have two more Ngoma times and it serves as a venue for artistic cultural exchange between us Americans and the Mozambicanas.  This week, a girl dancing group danced Marabenta for us and a drumming group played music accompanied by an instrument resembling a xylophone made out of coconuts.  (hopefully I can get some photos uploaded eventually).  We were invited to join the girls dancing and, naturally, I jumped at such an opportunity!  It was a blast and exactly what I needed J.  I went home and showed my family what I had learned, much to their amusement.  I am certainly looking forward to the next Ngoma time and am trying to get some people together to do some line dancing for them.  

NO Fear Cooking in Mozambique

Inspired by assisting my irma with cooking dinner on Tuesday, I want to share a little about the Mozambique cooking style.  Here, there is no need to measure, sit and watch the pot, use pot holders nor a cutting board.  I will elaborate…

For dinner, I helped make chicken which we cooked in coconut and peanut milk.  To begin, I learned how to shave the coconut by sitting on this board and scraping it against the “shaver tool” (sorry, I have forgotten  the name).  Then we smashed the peanuts to a dust by putting them in this giant container (called an “almofariz”) and repeatedly dropping a long pole (the “pau de pilar”) on them (hopefully I can upload some photos soon because that is a terrible description).  Combining the coconut innards with the peanut dust in a large bowl, you add some water to the mixture and squeeze handfuls to squeeze out the milk from the coconut, strain it, repeat again with more water, strain and ta-daa! the cooking liquid/milk. 

We then added an onion and tomato.  Okay, this is my favorite and I sit there watching them dice the onion in amazement.  No cutting board is used, they simply dice that onion,or peel and dice that tomato right in their hand, blade going toward themselves, no fear!  No one seems to ever worry about cutting themselves, and trust me, that knife they use is sharp!  It is quite the sight! 

We heated the milk on the caravao (kind of like a really miniature BBQ about a foot off the ground with two burners using wood as charcoal).  There is no low or simmer setting, no temperature regulation, the wood just burns, hot, but, magically, things don’t burn.  They don’t sit there watching over the pot, stirring it every second for fear of something getting stuck to the bottom, they go on about their business doing other things and occasionally checking on the dish.  I sat there watching that milky mixture, stirring it constantly, and my Irma kept telling me, “Rest, rest it is fine.” 

Cooking rice is another thing!  In the US, I fail at cooking rice almost every time.  I have always thought that the rice to water ratio had to carefully be measured so as to avoid crunchy or soggy rice, but apparently I was wrong.  They just add some water to the rice, let it boil for a bit, sample a few grains and either drain the remaining water or simply throw in some more.  No rice cooker, no precise 2:1 ratio, and it comes out perfectly every time!

Which brings me to another thing, they have incredible heat tolerance!  I know I am somewhat of a lame-o when it comes to touching things that might be hot, but they must just have no temperature receptors in their hands as they just take whatever is cooking directly from the boiling pot and put it on their hand to test seasoning or doneness.  I watched my avo do this and asked, “isn’t it hot?” to which she just laughed probably thinking something along the lines of silly American girl.

Anyways, after letting the milky stuff reduce down a little, added the chicken to cook in it and then time to eat.  And it was very very tasty!  Some more Mozambique dishes I can’t wait to try: Matapa and Samosas!

Coming up next week: Monday we are going to South Africa for a memorial service for the anniversary of the first president's death.  Tuesday, we are learning how to cook Mozambique food with our language classes and then are making American food for them.  I'll try to post at least once a week, with interesting stories, but each day is pretty similar to the next, class, lunch, class, dinner, some free time, then bed time.  Email me any questions you might have!

Summary of my fist week

Arrival in Namaacha

I copied some of this from my journal on the first day…

I arrived in Namaacha on Saturday afternoon.  (I still can’t believe we have only been here for just a week!)  During that bus ride from Maputo to Namaacha, we passed houses of all sorts, many the kind you might imagine in Africa, built out of tin or cardboard and defying gravity as they stay standing.  Realistically, I grew nervous of course because here we were, seeing firsthand those photos you see only on the internet, and the reality of the situation could not be avoided.  Here I was about to meet a family for the first time and live with them in their house, unsure what to expect, would I be living in a “house” like these we were passing?  I certainly felt guilty thinking how there was no way I could live in a house like that, yet clearly these were some peoples’ homes!  What had we gotten ourselves into?!  Instead, I tried to focus on the landscape around me and not freak out too much. 

About two hours later, we arrived in Namaacha, hopped off the bus and were escorted to chairs facing many African men and women, almost oogling us as if we were an exhibit, waving, smiling, whispering to each other.  We then found our maes and walked to our new homes.  Many maes held their volunteer’s hand as they escorted them, mine however seemed less enthusiastic and quickly learned that I did not understand her Portuguese barely at all.  After that, it was a pretty much silent walk home and I was shown my room and met my siblings and cousins, feeling totally overwhelmed in every way possible. 

My mae, with another mom and volunteer, then took me to the Shop Rite, which resembles a swap meet and occurs every Wednesday and Saturday.  I felt like a lost puppy just following her around, unable to really say anything and understanding only some of what she said.  Mostly I just walked with the other volunteer and her younger sibling who would answer our questions about how to say the clothes, shoes, foods, etc. in Portuguese.  Following that, we returned home, had dinner and I went to my room soon after, like around 8:00 because I was just mentally and physically exhausted!  I was surprised that I understood more Portuguese than I expected to, but that still isn’t saying much.

Summary of the Rest of the Week

So that was my first real day in Africa.  On Sunday I attended mass with my family, a Catholic service.  I understood almost none except the occasional prayer I recognized or like the blessing of the eucharist but even then there were some changes, or maybe it was mostly because it was in Portuguese and sometimes in Changana, a local language spoken here and in other parts of Mozambique.  Mass lasted about 2 hours long, and it was some special holiday for their church and there was also a baptism.  Lots of singing, some songs fast and they clap and sway side to side, and some songs slower and a few people sing a line and the next is a response line everyone sings.  There are several other religious groups in the area, but there seems to be a large Christian demographic. 

I also met some of Senina’s friends, and though they quickly learned I can’t communicate very well and didn’t understand what they were saying, I had an amazing time playing these games with them!  A game similar to down by the banks, and several circle games where they sing a song and someone goes in the middle and dances and then picks a new person to dance in the middle.  Apparently I am a hilarious dancer!  All those years of dance class really paid off! 

October 4^th marked the Day of Peace in Mozambique, the end of their civil war.  We attended a ceremony in which we gathered around a monument commemorating the end of the war and a few people spoke and then everyone lined up to place flowers on the monument and we sang the Mozambique national anthem.  We then paraded to a lecture hall and there were more speeches, in Portuguese of course.  To our surprise, about half way through, they had someone summarize what was being said in the speeches for us in English.  Basically, the city administrators discussed the need for continued peace and told people to be nice to us because we represent peace. 

As far as training goes, my day begins at 6am and I am off to language class by 7am.  This week, we had language class all day (7:30am-5:00pm) with a two hour break for lunch three out of five days.  The language classes are very small, the largest with only 6 volunteers, mine has only 3, so there is a lot of personal attention.  We have also learned a little about the Mozambique education system and a brief outline of the history of the country, but you can Wiki that if you are really interested, or more to come about that stuff later. 

A funny story: I woke up in the morning, exited my room then returned and was changing for my morning bath when I tried to open my door to no avail.  Thinking hm that’s odd, it opened a minute ago, I thought maybe somehow I had locked it unknowingly or something.  So I fiddled with my keys a bit in the lock and, this not being the quietest thing, my family in the nearby kitchen heard me fiddling with the door.  I think they thought I was dumb and kept telling me “Usa a chave” (Use the key) and I was trying to explain that the door was unlocked, just not opening.  I heard a tapping on my window and my irmao had me pass him the keys through the window so they could try.  They soon realized the door was unlocked yet wouldn’t open and I could hear them begin to unscrew the handle from their side of the door, hoping that would get me out.  Long story short, about 15 minutes later my sister ordered “Senta na cama” (sit on the bed!) and she came barging through that door, ramming it with her body to open it! 

I could continue on for days writing but I am sure I will have many more exciting stories to share soon and I hope I could paint at least some kind of picture of what life is like here.  At times, two years sounds like forever, but other times I just get lost in the moment and am just enjoying it, living one day at a time, and taking in as much as I can. 

I wish I could better describe the feeling of being dropped in to a situation with little familiarity, a huge language gap, potential cultural misunderstandings, total change of daily routines, etc. and yes it is certainly hard and I wake up still thinking how long two years sounds, but then there are some moments, simple ones like when I tried to translate some American songs for my sister and cousin or when I played those dancing games, where I get lost in those moments and find myself simply smiling, thinking about how those moments are why I am here and why I wanted to do this: to experience that new culture, challenge myself, and expand my knowledge of the world as I become part of a new community.  Sure it will probably get harder before it gets easier, and two years is a long time, but right now I am taking it one moment at a time and learning what I can in those moments.  And, at the same time, moving here isn’t much different than say moving somewhere else away from home.  One still has to adjust to a new routine, new people, build that support network, etc. no matter where you move in the world.  Yeah, some comforts from home are gone but hopefully I will find some new comforts soon J  Miss you all and thanks for following my adventure!