Initiation Rites

Exhausted from travelling, Adrienne and I arrived home to Murrupula Sunday afternoon, looking forward to an afternoon of relaxing and trying to escape the heat watching movies in front of the fan.  During our screening of The Emperor’s New Groove, we continuously heard drumming and singing from the house behind ours and became very curious about what was happening over there: a wedding? a new baby?  Despite being tired, I think in the back of both of our minds were thoughts about the short amount of time we have left here and it wouldn’t hurt to go pass by and find the answer to our curiosity…

So we mustered up the energy and timidly opened the gate door to the neighbor’s house.  Peeking our heads in to see if we were welcomed, we found a group of almost 100 women dancing and graciously welcoming us inside.  We asked a few women what the celebration was for and learned it was the initiation rites ceremony for a young girl of the house.

During these past two years, I had heard people allude to the initiation rites ceremony, explaining vaguely that it is an educational ceremony for adolescent boys and girls, initiating them in to manhood and womanhood, but I never truly understood what took place during such a ceremony.  It had always been somewhat of a far off dream to experience one in person and what an awesome opportunity to just stumble across it and be so welcomed to participate!

Very quickly, the women had us kicking off our sandals, tied capulanas around our waists and pushed us in to the center of the dance circle, showing us how to shake our hips while clapping, laughing, and cheering us on.  They made sure we had the perfect positions to watch and learn the dances and then would grab us by the arm to do it with them.  Aside from the general booty shakin’, criss crossin’ dancing, they had several partner dances and circle dances too.  In one, partners joined hands and alternated passing through another pairs’ arms.  In another, partners crossed one leg in the air and hopped forward and backwards.  In a circle, we did a “hip-bump pass” dance - with the woman on your left, you bump hips to the side then the front and then turn and pass it on to the woman on your right.  All the while, during the dancing, the honoree sat on the floor, her eyes pointed downward, her face expressionless.  I must admit I was very flattered when women were coming up to me after saying how well I knew how to dance, and I even caught the young girl trying to hide a smile every now and then.  See Mom, those years of dance classes really did pay off!

After about an hour of dancing, we were told to make a pathway and women came in carrying branches of leaves, singing a melancholy song, leading the way for another woman draped in a green mesh covering.  The girl next to me explained that it was the honoree’s mother.  Then the mother collapsed at the girl’s feet, feigning death.  Naturally, the girl began to cry.  Adrienne and I turned to each other, not entirely sure if we were correctly understanding what was happening, but seeing the surrounding women smiling and laughing to themselves as the girl continued to cry.  I clarified things with the girl next to me and she confirmed that this was in fact a joke played on the girl that her mom had died.  After maybe about 10 minutes of the mother laying there, another woman sat down to talk with the girl and then the mother got up and began to dance for a bit before heading inside the house.  As Americans, this is probably the worst joke you could play on someone, that someone close to them has died, but neither I nor Adrienne found it surprising from what we have learned about the culture during our time here.  I do not mean to incline that Mozambicans are heartless, but more so, that they have a very different view of death.  Death is much more attributed to fate and when one is surrounded by it as much as they are here, you almost have to learn how to deal with it in a different way.  But I digress…

Now, the ceremony took a more educational tone.  They brought out some traditional household items such as the wooden pole they use to pound corn and peanuts, doing several dances and jumps over it.  Then two at a time, women began rolling around in the dirt to the drum beat, demonstrating how to properly have sex, one woman playing the husband and the other the girl.  They took liberties with their roles, some miming smoking a cigarette and others playing the cocky male.  It was all pretty amusing, but also somewhat sad as it very much promoted the idea of women as there to serve their husbands.  After several demonstrations, the girl’s older sister did one final demo and then the girl herself laid down on the straw mat to have her turn.

Following the sex education portion, they then used the older sister to model how to fashion a Mozambican pad.  The sister stripped down and they used torn strips of fabric, one tied around her waist and the other passing between her legs, demonstrating how to properly secure it in place.  They then presented the girl with her own capulana for this purpose and continued with more dancing and blessings.  The ceremony was led by a local curandeiro, a traditional healer in the community.  All of what she said was in Mecua, so I couldn’t understand much of anything, but interpreted most of it as blessings for the girl’s future.

After about two hours, we were told that everyone was now going home and would return later that night to continue dancing.  Adrienne and I were so happy we had gone over to see what the drumming was about, extremely gracious at how welcoming the women had been in letting us participate in one of their most intimate traditions, but we were also exhausted and probably wouldn’t return that night.

As I got in to bed around my normal 8:30pm bedtime, I found it strangely quiet outside and wondered if they had decided not to continue with the evening’s activities.  Then I woke up around 10pm to the sounds of drums and singing again.  Incredibly, these women kept at it until almost 4am and then switched over to radio music.  Even the next morning and all afternoon, they still had music going! 

Nonetheless, I didn’t get much sleep that night, but it was still an incredible experience to witness and gets placed near the top of my most memorable moments.  It was a rare opportunity through which I learned so much about the culture.  I think it came at the perfect point in my service, a point where I feel I can actually appreciate and understand what was going on, whereas if I had experienced it earlier, it probably would have all been totally overwhelming.  I mean, when a woman strips down in front of you, it can definitely catch you off guard!  But now, I feel I have come to a new appreciation of this culture, witnessing the importance and use of dance in expressing everything, interpreting symbolism in some of the events, and seeing the role of the female and how incredibly strong the women are, definitely not women I can keep up with, dancing through all hours of the night!

REDES Dance

As part of the celebrations for September 25^th, Armed Forces Day in Mozambique, REDES Murrupula presented for the first time on stage in front of the town’s most important leaders and other members of the community. 

As I climbed the stage in front of a few hundred people with the other 8 girls, I didn’t really feel nervous as one might expect.  I love performing and I figured people have already laughed at me so many times here that I’m pretty immune to it now. 

In tune with Mozambican tradition, performers face the table of administrators, presenting the dance to them while keeping their backs to the audience.  Several occasions throughout the dance, we turn around, and I would lock eyes with of my students, a huge smile across his face, watching his teacher, a white girl, dancing “African style” dancing.  I could begin to imagine what types of comments I would receive later that afternoon and in class the next day.

However, people were extremely receptive to my participation.  I had people coming up to me after saying, “Teacher, you can dance!” and “Wow, you’ve learned our style and African rhythms!” and one colleague “Wow, you can really move your butt!” 

Though I went in to the performance with selfish reasons of not wanting to leave here without dancing on stage, I was surprised on how influential it seemingly was on my sense of integration in to the community here.  It really made me feel good when another professor told me how I had represented all the professors at the school.  I wasn’t just seen as the white girl trying to dance, I was truly dancing with the girls and seeing the excitement before and after the dance was quite priceless.

Though  it's taken from the back, but because I apparently have no shame still, here is the video from our dance!  The words to the song are in Mecua but roughly translated mean, "Who says people in the North can't dance?! Dance a little for me!" Hope you enjoy!

Projecto Ossuwela

In Mecua - “ossuwela”. In Portuguese - “saber”. In English - “to know”. Projecto Ossuwela has become the overarching name for the library project we have begun here in Murrupula.  Happily, the library is now officially open to the community!

It had been such a long process, filled with many ups and downs, that I had no idea what to expect for this opening - How many people from the community would come? Would the books actually get used? What about more volunteers to help run the project?  These were all questions that we have yet to answer, but that we couldn’t begin to answer without actual execution and initiation of the project. 

So, Saturday, September 21^st was the official opening ceremony for Projecto Ossuwela, the Community Library of Murrupula.  Over 80 members of the community including neighbors, students, children, teachers, a secondary school director, representatives from the government and several other Peace Corps Volunteers came out to support the project. 

We began the ceremony with a cultural dance presentation from REDES, followed by a short speech from Iassito, the director of AJUDEMU, the organization responsible for the library.  Iassito spoke of AJUDEMU’s goals and how the library fits in with those goals, of the community’s contribution of over 40% of the funds for the project, and called the community to help in maintaining the library for future generations. 

 

Following Iassito, Professor Shek, the director of the library, read a message explaining the library’s objectives.  Speaking passionately, Shek spoke of the library as a democratic institution for learning and culture, a free service to the community as a forum where books can be actively used for educational and informative objectives, also calling on the community to maintain, organize, and care for the library so that future generations can benefit from it. 

 After Shek, Rilton, the coordinator of the Mobile Library Project read a short children’s Portuguese book entitled, Boas Maneiras na Biblioteca(Good Manners in the Library). 

After, some students from my English group sang a song “We are happy to be together, we are happy to be together” and then JUNTOS presented a short play about the need and importance of a community library.  Finally, the representatives from the schools and government were invited to speak, generally expressing their gratitude in answering the community’s need for such a project and the important impact it could have.  The invitees then ceremoniously cut the garland draped across the door of the library, signaling its official opening, the beginning of Projecto Ossuwela!

 

It was a project that began with student’s asking for dictionaries, witnessing children 10 years and older unable to read or even recite the alphabet yet loving to learn, imagining growing up without ever touching a book or reading a story.  To now stand inside the library, looking at the shelf of books, the brightly colored walls, the handprints of those who helped develop the project, I couldn’t help but get a little emotional.  I really have poured a lot of myself in to it.  But, more importantly, I have tried to set aside my control freak tendencies in an effort to truly make it a library of the community, involving my counterparts in every step of the planning and now handing over responsibility to them and the community for the library’s hopeful growth and future success. 

"Thank you to everyone involved in the Library Project"

Handprints of everyone involved

Iassito, me, Shek, Adrienne, Rilton

Unfortunately, some naysayers accused me of providing a handout, investing time and resources that would have better been applied elsewhere to make a “bigger” impact, of arrogantly dumping my ideas and “Americanisms” on a community, furthering white homogeny. 

Some parts of their attack addressed points that I think every Peace Corps volunteer goes through at some point in their two year service. You wonder why you are here in the first place, teaching computers to students, the majority of which will probably never again use a computer.  You doubt your purpose or any sort of impact you might have in helping anyone.  You notice problems that are bigger than you, that you want to help change.  And sadly, eventually you accept those problems as just how things are, for right now at least, and you feel really guilty.  You are forced to take the humble and somewhat selfish approach, because what else can you do, knowing you are just one person, here for only two years.  You can’t just do nothing, so you choose to pursue things you are passionate about, knowing that you are at least growing from the experience, gaining skills that you will take with you the rest of your life.  Pursuing cultural exchanges, sharing traditions from your culture and learning about another, hoping to fragment some stereotypes, open some eyes to the big world that is out there, make relationships and integrate in to a community to understand the people in it on a more personal level.  Unfortunately, I will always be seen as the white girl and with that comes a sense of hierarchy, but hopefully you can find ways to rework that to benefit those around you, showing them they deserve to be heard or providing opportunities they otherwise would never experience.  Of course some of my American-ness is attached to each project, but that’s not something I can escape.  It’s what I know and never have I even thought of presenting my ways as “better” or “correct”.

Though no one ever approached me explicitly stating that Murrupula needed a community library, illiteracy and education are huge problems everywhere and I stand by Projecto Ossuwela, as a valuable project, truly of the community.  It was an opportunity that I presented, yes, but it never would have been accomplished by myself alone.  I am not going to feel ashamed in taking pride in the success of its inauguration and I think the community would agree with that.  On its very first day of operation, over 20 students used its books!  Some of my English group arrived almost an hour late to our practice because they did not want to stop reading their book in the library!

The term "ossuwela" can be expanded to apply to my entire Peace Corps experience, where I have grown “to know” so much.   Admittedly, I arrived in country as a somewhat ignorant American, not totally prepared for what was in store for me and definitely unsure what to expect.  After just two years in a country, one could never say they are truly integrated or know everything about the culture, but I certainly know more than I did when I arrived!  I know enough Portuguese now to stand in front of a classroom of students without using a previously written script, to talk with neighbors and colleagues on a deeper level.  I know more about myself, my strengths and weaknesses, how far I can extend beyond my comfort zone.  There are many things that I still don’t and may never truly know - I don’t know what impact I’ve had on the country, on the development of even my town, on perhaps a handful of students.  But I’ll never really know those things.  In each project from teaching to the REDES girls group to the library, I tried to approach them with the goal of giving an opportunity, an opportunity for learning, travel, development of personal attributes, etc.  How those opportunities were or were not taken is something beyond my control.  One thing I do know, and perhaps the only thing I can really know, is the impact this experience has had on me.    I know that when I return home to America, I will carry a part of Africa with me, always.  I know Murrupula as my home and the experiences I have had here, I know, have changed me forever.

The distinguished invitees

Cinco Alto

During our COS conference earlier in the month, we were asked to write advice to the incoming group of volunteers, Moz 21, our replacements.  Standard advice themes like “take everything one day at a time”, “it all gets easier”, or “I promise, you will eventually be able to speak Portuguese” all seemed like advice these “newbies” would soon figure out themselves.  Without having to think much, I chose to write:

Teach the crianças (children) in your neighborhood how to high five.  No matter what type of mood you are in, it will always bring a smile to your face when, on your way to school, they approach you, hands raised, ready for their “cinco alto” (high five).

Every morning on my way to school, as I cut through the small path between my neighbor’s houses, I inevitably pass a group of 2-10 crianças.  Upon seeing me, they jump up, shout “Sara! Sara” (or sometimes “Adrianna! Adrianna!”, close enough I guess) and run over with their hands raised.  Sometimes it’s a little daunting, seeing their dirt covered palm or mysteriously wet hand coming towards me with not enough time to avoid the inevitable, but, even so, it always brings a smile to my face and I can’t help but giggle.

I have decided that they are my cross between the minions from Despicable Me and the aliens from Toy Story, speaking a language I can’t always understand and saying my name in a manner oddly similar to “the claw”. 

When one of them first sees me, I can hear them begin to whisper “Sara”, and then they begin to clap their hands and chant my name.  Is this what it’s like to be a celebrity?

Suraia, my little fabric doll, given to me last year

In thinking about my last couple of months here, I think that is what I’ll miss the most.  Not the sense of being a celebrity all the time (ok, maybe a little bit), but the crianças.  Nowhere in America can you just invite some random kids over to your house to play, never would a mother just pass her new baby to you over the fence for you to hold.  They find joy in the simplest things - I entertained a group of boys for about an hour, letting them “paint” my house with some water and paint rollers.  They make dolls from small pieces of fabric, cars from old cans and bottles, dig through trash pits to see what “toys” they can find, make houses from abandoned bricks or make their own bricks from mud, love to clean, do dishes, and sweep.  And simply giving them a quick high five every morning makes them so excited and happy.  They have definitely taught me to appreciate the simplest things in life and find happiness in those simple things.

National Science Fair

With banners over the stage, drawings of famous scientists decorating the walls, and about 100 people in attendance, the winners from each of the 10 provinces of Mozambique presented their science fair projects last Saturday in Quelimane, Zambezia for the 13^th annual National Science Fair.

In collaboration with the Mozambican Ministry of Science and Technology, two Peace Corps volunteers Dan and Sam worked all year to plan the national event, a big undertaking to bring together future scientists from around the country to show off their experiments and new ideas.  Students were judged by a jury constituting 5 people, one Peace Corps volunteer and 4 representatives from the Ministry.

After a student theater presentation about the spread of HIV/AIDS and a dance performance from a local women’s group, the students began their presentations.  Each presenting student had previously won their respective provincial fair last month and was invited to this National Fair to represent their province. Each student gave about a ten minute presentation or explanation of their project, followed by questions from the jury and audience.  The projects included:

1^st Cycle (grades 8-10)

Zambezia - Motion sensor and Remote Controlled Light

Nampula - Natural Pesticides from Alcohol mixed with peppers, garlic, or soap

Inhambane - Electrical Circuit using Graphite and Sulfuric Acid

Cabo Delgado - Sound-activated light

Sofala - Pesticide using fruits of a plant mixed with salt and water

Maputo - Preparation of Medicinal Syrups with plants and natural ingredients

Niassa - Extraction of alcohol from wine

Tete - Home-made Electrical Fan from Cardboard

Gaza - Electrical Circuit that links a cell phone alarm with a bell

Manica - Solar Water Heater

2^nd Cycle (grades 11-12)

Maputo - Production of Hair Gel from plant ingredients

Sofala - Creation of a machine to shell peanuts

Nampula - Distillation of Salt Water

Niassa - Electrical Circuit with option to vary electrical consumption and dimming feature

Inhambane - Creation of a Radio

Cabo Delgado - Demonstration of preventing erosion

Zambezia - Production of a Natural Insecticide using plants

Manica - Production of glue using burned oil

Tete - Natural plant-derived drink to aid the symptoms of HIV/SIDA

Gaza - Model of an improved urban plan

Though it was a long day, it was an amazing opportunity to watch these students presenting on a stage, in front of leaders of their communities, receiving praise and recognition for their innovative ideas.  It was also great to see 5 strong, intelligent girls presenting and defending their projects. 

And the winners were…

For first cycle, 3^rd place went to the student from Nampula for his natural insecticides.  He definitely knew what he was talking about and confidently defended his results and ideas.  2^nd place went to the student from Tete who made a fan from cardboard.  And 1^st place, the winner of a new lap top, went to a very impressive female from Inhambane who’s notable experiment, though not with materials many schools would have available, still impressively explained the scientific principles and chemistry behind her Sulfuric Acid and graphite electrical circuit.

2nd Cycle winner with the Zambezia Delegado

For second cycle, 3^rd place went to the student from Zambezia who made another natural pesticide.  2^nd place was awarded to the representative from my province, Delanie who I don’t think I ever saw not smiling, for her water distillation design.  And 1^st place was awarded to Elias from Niassa for his variable electricity circuit.  In a country where smiling is rare in formal ceremonies, this time, these students did not hesitate in hiding their smiles and Elias even put his hands on his head, in shock and pride of winning!

Adam and Tony with the Nampula students

The Beginning of the End

Last week was the last major benchmark before the end of our service, our Close of Service or, because Peace Corps loves their acronyms, COS Conference.  The 39 Moz 17ers gathered all together for one last meeting in Maputo, a bittersweet time filled with the excitement of being together in the capital city and sadness in knowing this was the last time. 

As my mom pointed out, Peace Corps is probably the only organization that helps you prepare for what comes next, providing you with incredible resources whether you want to pursue the professional or academic route after your service.  The conference opened with a slideshow, reviving memories from our first days in Mozambique and followed with a time of reflection on how it felt those first days in country and those first days at site.  We discussed our accomplishments, what to include and highlight in our resumes, how to search for jobs or figure out what you might want to do after, and how to close out our service including all the paperwork and documents to be completed.  There was also a Q&A with a career panel, including two RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers, my title after I finish here) who are back in Mozambique working now, the director of the International School in Maputo and two of the teachers there.  Our directors even invited us all over to their houses for dinner both Wednesday and Thursday nights!  Some sessions made me excited, realizing my freedom in being able to really begin to research what it is I want to do next and others more anxious, realizing it’s about time to start figuring that out…

I think for almost everyone, it’s hard to believe that the end is really almost here!  When we first arrived in country almost exactly two years ago, COS seemed like this infinitely far away, intangible thing.  Now, everyone is counting down only two or three more months left in country, knowing the time is most likely going to fly by! 

I’m going to save my thoughts and feelings on leaving for a later post, mostly because I don’t quite want to admit to myself that it’s happening quite yet.  So, what’s next for me?  Here’s what I have planned so far… My ticket home is purchased, and has been for a while now.  I leave Murrupula around 11 weeks from now, spending a week in Maputo for final medical work and to turn in final paperwork, and then I leave country November 30^th to meet my mom and family friend Jane for a trip to Botswana.  Then it’s about 30 hours of flights home and I arrive in LAX on December 10^th at 1:30pm. 

After that?  I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’m not really sure.  Grad School? Maybe eventually? A job? Probably, because our Peace Corps earnings won’t really carry me for too long.  But, I’m not letting, or at least trying to not let, the unknown stress me out too much.  More importantly, right now I want to focus on these last 11 weeks here in Murrupula, finishing and strengthening projects like the library, English Theater, and REDES.  I want to focus on those moments with my neighbor children, playing hopscotch and Slap Jack, and just spending time with friends, students, and colleagues.  I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like saying good-byes and making that last drive away from my little villa, let alone what it’ll be like arriving back at home again, adjusting back to my life in the first world!  It still seems like a dream world away, and I am comforted knowing that I am lucky to have a home to go back to and so many people who support me.