Six months

Monday, March 26^th marked exactly six months since I first left my home in California.  I have talked with many other volunteers about how we can’t decide if it feels like it’s been a lot longer or a lot shorter than six months, in other words, we can’t decide if the time has gone by really fast or really slow.  Each day itself can seem extremely long sometimes, and I’ll find myself thinking back on the morning wondering, wow that was really just this morning?! And then sometimes, the weekend sneaks up on you and you think, what happened to the rest of this week?

Thinking back to six months and a day ago when I was frantically finishing up my packing, trying my best to stay within the weight limit and removing all the items I thought essential to stay within that limit, that certainly seems like a lifetime ago.  Since then, I think my mom has mailed me almost everything I removed and if I could pack again, I would certainly trade out a few things with those I chose to leave behind (i.e. left those long sleeve shirts and a sweatshirt, my hair dryer, and straightener, in exchange for the non-stick frying pan and kitchen appliances that don’t melt in boiling pasta water). My family can certainly tell you, on that day, I was stressed, overwhelmed, and doubting my decision and why I was even going.

I remember my first days in Philadelphia, meeting my fellow volunteers, enjoying out last American meal, all of us totally clueless about what to expect and what we were getting ourselves in to.  To be totally honest, my very first entry in my journal is from that hotel in Philadelphia and how I doubted myself and if I was really prepared to embark on this adventure.  For instance, I’ll quote a few lines for you… “my nerves are running wild challenging me to consider whether or not I can actually do this.” “I am trying to not let my inability to really understand what to expect and that fear that comes along with that surmount any of the reasons why I did this in the first place.”  I definitely remember that night, Sept 27^th to be exact, and that feeling of complete lack of any idea what to expect, not being able to imagine what anything was going to be like.  Just before I left, many people asked questions like, will you be alone at site, what will you teach, how will you teach, what are the houses like, what will you eat, how will you cook, etc.  And more often than not, I would respond, “I don’t know, we’ll see!” because I really didn’t know anything!

And now, six months has passed and it’s crazy thinking about how much has happened; those first weeks in Namaacha, the bus ride to Namaacha looking out at the houses nerves going crazy, meeting our homestay families and not understanding a word they said, getting locked in my bedroom and my sister breaking open the door, being grossed out by that first cockroach in my room, watching my first chicken get killed, my first chapa trip and being totally overwhelmed by the number of people they can shove in there, total lack of personal space while riding on a chapa, first bucket bath…. All the way to those first days at site and feeling totally overwhelmed all over again surrounded by complete unknown and the unfamiliar, losing two amazing girls from our group, spending the holidays away from home, returning to site alone, ridiculous disorganization of the school those first few weeks, figuring out how to teach and teach in a foreign language, figuring out how to get through a day on my own!  Wow, it has certainly been a rollercoaster to say the least. 

But, I have successfully made it through six full months.  It certainly hasn’t been easy, but it has definitely been an adventure.  I have overcome the challenges and struggles tossed my way so far, I think I have grown, I have figured out how to do things on my own cuz you know what, there is no one else here who’s gonna get it done for me.  All in all, I must admit I feel comfortable here, well for the most part.  There are still those difficult days, but I know my way around the town, people recognize me and no longer just call me Ecuna (white person) but call me by name, I have witty comebacks for those occasional wedding proposals, I’m learning some of the local language, I have almost taught for an entire trimester and though my students still sometimes correct my Portuguese and gender agreement of words, I can hold my own in a Portuguese conversation, I don’t have to write out every word of my lesson beforehand and can improvise explanations on the spot during a lesson, I can even understand one of my school directors whose Portuguese mixed with mumbled speech was nearly impossible to interpret. 

I don’t intend for this post to sound like I am bragging or anything of the sort, I intend, more for myself I think, to think back on all that has happened these past six months.  I still have a ways to go to actually feel integrated here and a lot more I want to do. I still take things one day at a time, sometimes just trying to get through one moment at a time, but it’s almost a form of comfort knowing all that has already happened, and if nothing else, I have realized that, with time, you really can get used to almost anything.  I don’t really feel like I personally have changed all that much since first leaving home, but I guess I’ll leave that up to my friends and family to decide when I go back home in a few months for my sister’s wedding.  Though I definitely do appreciate all the conveniences of life back in America so much more, including grocery stores with an unbelievable variety of produce, regular electricity that doesn’t frequently go out, running water, not having to sleep with a mosquito net and worrying that it’s not all the way tucked in, shelves and cupboards, you get the point….

In just a few months, I’ll be back at home again for a few weeks (my feelings about that shall be left for another time), but until then, so much more can happen!  The first trimester is finishing up and I’ll get to experience to “joys” of giving out grades, we have a Peace Corps conference coming up, I hope to continue with my English practice club and I am hoping to get a girls’ club started soon, my director wants me to organize some students to paint a mural on the new school’s wall, and mostly I want to continue forming relationships within my community and who knows what else!  So six months down, about 20 to look forward to J

Some photos from our mini photo shoot

It's days like this :)

Thursday, March 8^th is International Women’s Day (though apparently an international holiday, I don’t think I have ever heard of this holiday in the US).   In the morning during a stroll through the city, I came across a huge crowd at the town’s stage area watching some performances.  It was a very pleasant surprise and I stayed to watch a couple dance groups, some guys doing martial arts type moves and even make a pyramid standing on each other’s shoulders, and a speech from the Administradora about the importance of the day and celebrating women.  I chatted with a few students trying to find out if we still had classes today, to which they said yes but that they weren’t going because of the holiday. 

After the performance, I wandered around some more and then returned home, soon greeted by Loila, Lucrezia and now a new girl also.  We painted nails for a bit and then had the most fantastic photo shoot (I hope I can load some photos within the next few weeks).  The little girls soon came over to play also, and joined in on the photo shoot.  Simple yes, but it was just one of those small moments where you can sit back and think, this is why I am here, for days like this.

A Few Anecdotes

·         I was working out in my backyard doing a P90X video.  I heard my back neighbor greet me and turned around to find her plus five children in their papaya tree watching me over the fence!  I just kept up with the workout pretending like no one was watching.  You kind of get used to a lack of privacy here. 

·         About five or six girls come to play at my house lately.  Typically we play cards, jump rope, throw a Frisbee, or draw (I have some of their drawings decorating my living room wall).  On Saturday, I read with them from a few books Peace Corps had given us.  I must admit, even in the level one books (which is along the lines of “big fish, little fish, skinny fish, fat fish” etc.) I did not know some of the Portuguese words so it was a learning experience for me too.  I think this is probably one of the few times these kids have/will ever hold an actual book and it was cute sitting there reading with them.  They are between the ages of 7-9, yet have not learned how to read.  One girl I think knew how, but was too shy to do it for me.  Maybe another day.

·         I showed these same girls a picture of my family and they pointed to one person asking, “Who’s that?” “That’s me!” I replied…. I guess I look a little different with my hair down, straightened, and clean…

·         On my walk home from school on Monday, I saw a guy wearing an Anaheim Angels t-shirt, my hometown’s baseball team.  Getting closer, but I’m still waiting for the day I see something from my high school…

·         The weather here is probably the most bipolar thing I have ever experienced!  For instance, Tuesday morning, it was over 100 degrees, before 8am.  Then around 1pm, it got cold (“cold” now means like 70, which compared to over 100 definitely feels cold…) and started pouring!  And I mean pouring! Thunder and lightning too!  The roof of my house is made of zinc, so imagine the noise inside when it rains….then multiply that by a factor of 10!  It’s so loud, sometimes I can’t even hear my computer even with headphones in! 

·         Any ideas for how to teach a computer class when the electricity is going crazy, making the computers shut off every couple minutes or when there is no electricity?  Any suggestions are greatly welcomed!  I resorted to bringing some of the keyboards into the classroom for them to at least get to touch and learn where and what some keys are for.  Definitely learning to be flexible and think on the spot! 

·         A new friend in the house Tuesday night, a little frog about an inch big in my bedroom.  Captured him in a small pot and took him back outside where I think he will be a little happier.  Not gonna lie, I definitely let out a little yelp when he tried to jump towards me.  But rather him in my room than the rat who I think has been running around looking to eat anything and everything.

·         Wednesday afternoon, bored and tired of sitting at home alone, I decided to go for a walk and ran in to the five little girls who come play.  We walked through a few streets then returned to my front yard and played “duck duck goose”, joined by about five other kids.  Hot in the sun, we moved to sit in some shade, and I soon discovered that I now had about 30 kids curious about what the strange American was doing.  We danced a little in the road and then I brought out a Frisbee.  Now with 40 or more kids, we threw around the Frisbee, them acting like any other child, diving, kicking, pushing, laughing, running for the Frisbee.  It was quite the “Peace Corps moment”, I’d say.  Any ideas for more games to play with them?  

Let's Take a Walk

Let’s see if I can try to paint a picture for you of what I see on my couple mile walk to school in the afternoons.

Leaving my house and heading out towards the highway road to the school, I take the path that cuts through the primary school.  Children run around everywher, and I always hear them yelling from afar “Ecunha”, to which, depending on my mood, I will ignore, reply “Boa tarde” or give a wave.  I have started telling kids that that’s not my name, and if they want me to respond they have to learn my name.  I always respond when they greet me as Senhora Professora though. But anyway, I continue on.

It is not uncommon to see sheep grazing on the grass alongside the school buildings.  These aren’t the white fluffy sheep from America, but are brown, almost resembling goats.  I pass the school and continue down the cobblestone road leading out of the Vila de Murrurpula, passing the understated white Catholic church and houses.  There is always music blasting from these houses, kids playing around, people sitting under the shade of the trees. 

Walking now for about ten or fifteen minutes from my house, I now reach the highway, a paved road (one of a few in the country, this is the major highway that spans the entire length of the country) with no painted lines, just wide enough for two cars.  A car, semi-truck, or, more frequently, motorcycles, pass about one or two every minute or so, so not heavy amounts of traffic on this major “highway”.  At least one motorcycle rider almost always stops to offer me a ride, to which I quickly have to explain PC’s strict rule against riding motorcycles and they shake their heads not really understanding but accepting another crazy thing from the American.  Other motorcycles or passing cars honk a warning as they come flying past, and boy have you better move out of their way because they certainly aren’t going to move!

Descending a slight hill, houses continue to line the road for a bit, and I pass two guys making concrete bricks, goats grazing on the grass alongside the road, someone herding some sad looking cows down the path, more people greeting “Boa tarde” or simply staring at me as I pass.  The Mozambican stare is pretty intense and they have no hesitations whatsoever about staring blatantly and fiercely at you, but I have come to realize that, for the most part, their faces quickly soften when I greet them and they aren’t so scary anymore.

Just at the base of the hill, is my favorite part of the walk.  There is a break in the houses and an expanse of green landscape set against a bright blue sky,  a small stream bed where sometimes you can see people picking something from the riverbank, palm trees, other trees I don’t know, tall grasses, a jungle-like grassland I guess, the rock mountain which resembles Half Dome breaking up the flat land.  It’s always so peaceful here, you can hear birds chirping, and it’s just green green green, a great reminder of how beautiful this country is. 

As I start the incline up the hill now, still continuing along the highway, I pass a mosque and houses reappear alongside the road.  Almost every yard lately has corn growing, a couple houses have little wooden stands to sell cookies, soap, candy, etc. 

I then reach the fence of the cashew factory where they process raw cashews, and the road steepens a bit.  Near the top of the hill, there is a restaurant/bar where sometimes I stop to get a cold soda and a break from the blazing sun.  It’s about this point where I definitely get tired of walking and just want to get there and get out of the sun.

Finally, about 10 minutes past the hill summit is the dirt entrance-road to the school.  This dirt road is lined with newly planted baby trees until you reach the newly built fence of the school grounds.  (Someday, I am hoping to organize some kids to paint a mural on the wall.)

The school has six brick buildings, each with two classrooms.  Students are required to wear a uniform with a white collared shirt and black pants for boys and a skirt for girls.  I wear a white “bata” (resembles a lab coat) over my clothes, the standard attire of a professor.  Classrooms have about 25=30 desks which seat two or three students, a table up front for the professor to use and a chalkboard, and that’s it.  Students’ “textbooks” are their notebooks where they copy all the professor’s notes from the board, and that’s their only reference.  I am trying to break up their “learning” style a bit and get them to actually understand things rather than just regurgitate information/definitions.  They definitely struggle with critical thinking skills and can spout off any definition you give them, but they don’t really know what any of the words mean.  It’s something that is hard to understand when you come from a culture where, even at a young age, we are always encouraged to ask why and how.

Patience and Pictures

Not many huge, exciting stories this week.  Just another test of patience with another schedule change, cancelled classes for some meeting, then yet change to my schedule but without telling me so I missed a class, and a power outage so couldn't teach my computer classes.  So all in all, I taught only one bio class on Monday and half of my TICs students on Tuesday.  What else i did to pass the week, I don't really even know.  But here are a few pictures with some of my students.  

This is the closer school where I teach my computer classes... The students were sooooo excited to take pictures!!