Today I headed home from Maputo which turned out to be a bit of an adventure, but every day is a bit of an adventure here. A bus was supposed to come pick me up at the hostel at 5:30am, but I waited for an hour and it never appeared, so once it was light enough to walk I just decided to go to the bus place, called “junta,” myself. A chapa pulled over and I asked the conductor if he was going to the junta and he said yes, so I got in. After about15 minutes when it became clear that we were not going to the junta I asked him again and he said “oh I didn’t understand you, you wanted to go to the junta?” I chewed him out in front of the chapa, telling him I don’t see where the confusion was, considering there is only one place called junta and, let’s be honest, that’s where most young white people with large backpacks in Maputo want to go. After I was done I am pretty sure a woman in the back of the chapa chewed him out one more time (though it was in local language so I am not 100%). But he was contrite, helped me get to the right chapa, and didn’t even attempt to get me to pay.
When I got to the junta there was a chapa going up to Inhambane already fairly full, which is nice because they don’t leave until they are full. I ran into one of my colleagues on the chapa, returning from a weekend in Maputo with his family, and they offered me the front seat which I gladly accepted because they are more comfortable. About 2 hours into the ride we got a flat tire, so the driver pulled over and AAA was called. HAHA, funny joke. The driver, conductor, and a few passengers fixed the flat while the rest of us sat on the side of the road and occasionally wandered into the brush to pee for 45 minutes while we waited. Sometimes chapas make good time. This one did not. But I had my own seat and got home eventually, so I can’t complain. For the first couple months I was in Mozambique I refused to sit in the front seat of chapas. The way I saw it, I didn’t need to see how I was going to die. Nine months later, a lot of the things that used to send me reeling don’t even faze me anymore, and I enjoy the front seat. However, there are occasions (such as when we are about to have a head-on collision with an oncoming car) when I just close my eyes for a few seconds—if I am going to die I don’t need to see it, I’ll find out soon enough anyhow.
Monday, May 31, 2010
29/05/10
Today we ventured outside of Mozambique for the first time since arriving, going to Swaziland for the Bushfire Music Festival. Swaziland is south of us and also in the mountains, so I found myself, for the first time in over a year, cold. It was weird. We also kept getting in trouble because people speak English there! We are accustomed to being able to say anything we want and nobody understanding us in Mozambique, because even the English speakers can’t understand our American accents and slang. Oops. We had been told that Swaziland is more developed than Mozambique, but we were literally blown away by the drastic contrast as soon as we crossed the border. Swaziland is full of Western markers of civilization that simply don’t exist in Mozambique—paved roads, lines (like of people), signs, trash cans, sidewalks, price tags, strip malls. Never in the 9 months I have been in Mozambique have I thought to myself, “I could be in America right now” but in Swaziland I constantly felt like that.
The festival was great. There were all different sorts of music, mostly from South Africa, but also from Swaziland, Mozambique, and a few other countries. And judging by the crowd, some of the bands were incredibly well-known and popular. We ran into a lot of other Moz PCVs, as well as meeting tons of interesting people in our hostel and at the festival, including tons of South Africa PCVs and Swaziland PCVs. At our hostel we met people from England, Canada, America, Israel, traveling and doing different sorts of projects. I even met two separate people with Bowdoin siblings! And we made friends with a guy who was traveling in South Africa and Swaziland and when he found out we are from Mozambique he said, hey I have always wanted to go there, so he came back with us.
The festival was great. There were all different sorts of music, mostly from South Africa, but also from Swaziland, Mozambique, and a few other countries. And judging by the crowd, some of the bands were incredibly well-known and popular. We ran into a lot of other Moz PCVs, as well as meeting tons of interesting people in our hostel and at the festival, including tons of South Africa PCVs and Swaziland PCVs. At our hostel we met people from England, Canada, America, Israel, traveling and doing different sorts of projects. I even met two separate people with Bowdoin siblings! And we made friends with a guy who was traveling in South Africa and Swaziland and when he found out we are from Mozambique he said, hey I have always wanted to go there, so he came back with us.
27/05/10
Headed down to Namaacha tonight, my first time back since we left after training. My mother, who told me the night before I left in December that she was pregnant, is now quite pregnant and expecting in July. She said she doesn’t want to know the baby’s gender, that she wants it to be a surprise, but she is disappointed because she is hoping for a girl but everyone tells her that her stomach is shaped like a boy. At the end of training I was pretty ready to be living in my own and not in a homestay situation anymore, but on the way to Namaacha I found myself incredibly excited—tingling with the anticipation of going home. It was strangely nostalgic, like when you go home for a break during college. I found myself immediately inspecting the house, to see what had changed since the last time I was there—they got rid of the fridge that had broken during training, they had switched to fluorescent light bulbs, my room had two beds now instead of two. The framed picture of our family that I had given them before leaving was sitting on the sideboard in the living room. It made me sad because the family has already changed some and will change a lot in the future. My 16 year old male cousin who lived behind us has moved to Maputo to live with his mom. My 13 year old female cousin/sister wasn’t there because she had been called back by her parents to Inhambane province to take care of a sick uncle (though she should be returning eventually). My mom and her son’s father (that is how she always refers to him) had started building a house during training that apparently is done now, so they will be moving with their son and new baby after the baby is born, and a different aunt will be moving into our house to take care of grandma and the two other boys. It makes me sad that after this happens I won’t be able to “return home” anymore.
Seeing my family was wonderful. It was so wonderful to be able to speak Portuguese with them finally! I got to sit down and have a real conversation with my mom about how her life, pregnancy, and new job are going, instead of the baby talk we were forced to resort to during training. The boys (3, 4, and 7 years old) took about 30 minutes to warm up to me, but as soon as they did, they were all competing for my attention and playing a game we used to play when I was there where they would try to sneak up behind my chair and tickle me, and then try to run past without me getting them. During training the 7 year old loved to tell me stories, but I think I only caught about half of what he would chatter at me, but this time I understood his entire story about a dog and horse. During dinner Anna’s mom (who is my mom’s sister) called to say hi. The first thing she said to me was “so have you gained or lost weight since training?” I told her I wasn’t sure, but I thought I was about the same. “Oh” she said, disappointedly.
Seeing my family was wonderful. It was so wonderful to be able to speak Portuguese with them finally! I got to sit down and have a real conversation with my mom about how her life, pregnancy, and new job are going, instead of the baby talk we were forced to resort to during training. The boys (3, 4, and 7 years old) took about 30 minutes to warm up to me, but as soon as they did, they were all competing for my attention and playing a game we used to play when I was there where they would try to sneak up behind my chair and tickle me, and then try to run past without me getting them. During training the 7 year old loved to tell me stories, but I think I only caught about half of what he would chatter at me, but this time I understood his entire story about a dog and horse. During dinner Anna’s mom (who is my mom’s sister) called to say hi. The first thing she said to me was “so have you gained or lost weight since training?” I told her I wasn’t sure, but I thought I was about the same. “Oh” she said, disappointedly.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
26/05/10
In schools in Mozambique, when the teacher enters the classroom they greet the students and all of the students stand to return the greeting in unison. Today I was teaching when I heard the class next door saying “bom dia professor!” I looked down at my watch—19 minutes into a 45 minute lesson.
I make tardy or or students who didn't do their homework sit on the floor. My first hour this morning I had 28 students on the floor and 12 in seats.
Today Ann and I went into town to buy some things to take our host families in Namaacha because we are visiting them tomorrow. I ran into one student who I had embarrassed last week when I asked him in front of the class “is math important to you?” when he said yes I asked “well then why did you fugir my second class yesterday?” (fugir I think translates best as “to get the heck out of there”) We had had a double period the day before and he had snuck out after the first hour, thinking I wouldn’t notice. Today when I saw him I asked what he was going to do after he was done selling things and he grinned and responded “do my math homework of course!”
A few meters down I ran into one of my students who actually gets passing notes on all of her exams, but didn’t show up to hers last week and also wasn’t there for the recuperation, so she has a zero on the first exam. I asked her where she was last week and she said she was sick, so I told her she needed to get a justification slip from the secretary’s office for her absence so I could give her a make-up test. She said she would, I hope she actually does. I have about 10 students who just didn’t show up to my math exam and apparently don’t care, because they haven’t sought me out yet to ask for a make-up opportunity. The sad fact is that they have been in the system long enough to know that when it comes to the end of the year and the school needs to have a certain percentage of kids passing, a certain number of kids will just get bumped along, so they might just be hoping they are one of those kids. My student who can’t read or write didn’t take his math exam (along with others) but he must know better than anyone that there are other ways to pass the grade.
I ran into another student (actually we ran into about 15 more) who asked us “what language do you guys speak when you are together, American?
Leaving tomorrow for a few days.
I make tardy or or students who didn't do their homework sit on the floor. My first hour this morning I had 28 students on the floor and 12 in seats.
Today Ann and I went into town to buy some things to take our host families in Namaacha because we are visiting them tomorrow. I ran into one student who I had embarrassed last week when I asked him in front of the class “is math important to you?” when he said yes I asked “well then why did you fugir my second class yesterday?” (fugir I think translates best as “to get the heck out of there”) We had had a double period the day before and he had snuck out after the first hour, thinking I wouldn’t notice. Today when I saw him I asked what he was going to do after he was done selling things and he grinned and responded “do my math homework of course!”
A few meters down I ran into one of my students who actually gets passing notes on all of her exams, but didn’t show up to hers last week and also wasn’t there for the recuperation, so she has a zero on the first exam. I asked her where she was last week and she said she was sick, so I told her she needed to get a justification slip from the secretary’s office for her absence so I could give her a make-up test. She said she would, I hope she actually does. I have about 10 students who just didn’t show up to my math exam and apparently don’t care, because they haven’t sought me out yet to ask for a make-up opportunity. The sad fact is that they have been in the system long enough to know that when it comes to the end of the year and the school needs to have a certain percentage of kids passing, a certain number of kids will just get bumped along, so they might just be hoping they are one of those kids. My student who can’t read or write didn’t take his math exam (along with others) but he must know better than anyone that there are other ways to pass the grade.
I ran into another student (actually we ran into about 15 more) who asked us “what language do you guys speak when you are together, American?
Leaving tomorrow for a few days.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
25/05/10
Yesterday I cracked an egg into the frying pan on my electric stove and a was electrically shocked by the current that traveled back up the egg—apparently an extremely good conductor—leaving me with that all too familiar tingly feeling in the back of my scalp.
Today we celebrated the day of Mary our helper (the Virgin Mary), even though it was actually yesterday. We didn’t have classes today, but instead everyone, teachers and students, from the primary and secondary schools here at Laura Vicuña and from the Salesian priests’ professional school across the street congregated at 7am outside the mission. Of course, everyone was running at least an hour late. We formed a huge processional line, first the altar servers carrying a cross, then the primary school kids, arranged by age, followed by important townspeople. After came an open-bed truck carrying a statue of the Virgin Mary and the sound system from which people led songs and prayers the whole walk. After the truck, the students from the secondary school and the professional school. We walked down the national highway (we had one lane while police stopped and then guided traffic through the other lane) for about a mile before making a loop through the front drive of a restaurant and then returning, this time turning into the Salesian priests’ mission for mass on their outdoor basketball court. A full mass was said, followed by dancing by a couple of different groups, but I wasn’t able to see any of it because there were too many people and I didn’t have the energy to push my way through everyone. After all the dances lunch was served in the orphanage dining hall for important townspeople and all people who work for the Salesians: teachers, gardeners, janitors, etc. Lunch ended at 3:30pm. Like many things in Mozambique, the celebration was quite nice, but lasted about 3 hours too long.
Today we celebrated the day of Mary our helper (the Virgin Mary), even though it was actually yesterday. We didn’t have classes today, but instead everyone, teachers and students, from the primary and secondary schools here at Laura Vicuña and from the Salesian priests’ professional school across the street congregated at 7am outside the mission. Of course, everyone was running at least an hour late. We formed a huge processional line, first the altar servers carrying a cross, then the primary school kids, arranged by age, followed by important townspeople. After came an open-bed truck carrying a statue of the Virgin Mary and the sound system from which people led songs and prayers the whole walk. After the truck, the students from the secondary school and the professional school. We walked down the national highway (we had one lane while police stopped and then guided traffic through the other lane) for about a mile before making a loop through the front drive of a restaurant and then returning, this time turning into the Salesian priests’ mission for mass on their outdoor basketball court. A full mass was said, followed by dancing by a couple of different groups, but I wasn’t able to see any of it because there were too many people and I didn’t have the energy to push my way through everyone. After all the dances lunch was served in the orphanage dining hall for important townspeople and all people who work for the Salesians: teachers, gardeners, janitors, etc. Lunch ended at 3:30pm. Like many things in Mozambique, the celebration was quite nice, but lasted about 3 hours too long.
Monday, May 24, 2010
24/05/10
On Friday my student who can’t read or write showed up to school for the first time all week. I found him after fifth period and confirmed that we would meet after sixth period (the last class of morning classes) to have a Portuguese lesson. I waited for half an hour but he never showed.
Saturday I went to Ann’s house and got stuck there for 6 hours because of the rain. In a country where nothing is paved (the only paved road in our town is the national highway that isn’t in our town as much as runs straight through it) rain suddenly becomes a huge limiting factor as streets become rushing rivers of mud that suck the flip flops off your feet like quicksand.
Two of our colleagues who met and started dating during training just got engaged, which we celebrated during the monsoon an Saturday. Parabéns guys!
Saturday I went to Ann’s house and got stuck there for 6 hours because of the rain. In a country where nothing is paved (the only paved road in our town is the national highway that isn’t in our town as much as runs straight through it) rain suddenly becomes a huge limiting factor as streets become rushing rivers of mud that suck the flip flops off your feet like quicksand.
Two of our colleagues who met and started dating during training just got engaged, which we celebrated during the monsoon an Saturday. Parabéns guys!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
23/05/10
Today Rita, the Portuguese volunteer, and I took 20 of the girls to Yvette and John’s at Tsene Lagoa. Yvette had a whole day of swimming and horses planned, with an emphasis on learning about these things as they were doing them. John and Yvette have 4 dogs that are really friendly, unlike Mozambican dogs, especially the dogs we have here at the mission, but I had forgotten that some of the girls would be scared of them. Yvette offered to put the dogs away for the day, but Rita and I agreed that we wanted the girls to learn that dogs can be friendly and even playful, that they don’t all threaten to attack and bite. I am sure that the girls have never seen dogs before that were friendly and even wanted to play (even my friendly dog during training had never been played with, when I picked up a stick to play fetch with him he thought I was going to hit him with it). Two of the girls (about 10 years old) burst into tears whenever the dogs would come near, but by the end of the day they were completely fine around them and the rest of the girls were loving getting to pet and play with them.
We had a snack when we arrived and then went down to the ocean. It was an chilly, overcast, and windy day, so it didn’t even cross my mind that the girls would want to swim. I should know better by now. The beach was covered in crabs so the girls immediately set off trying to catch them, determined that we would be having crab for dinner. As they started venturing closer and closer to the waves their pants started to get wet, so they asked if they could take their pants off. After another 20 minutes of girls accidentally getting too far in and soaked by a big wave, one girl asked if she could take her shirt off too and next thing all the girls were running around in their underwear. After another 30 minutes one girl said she had gotten sand in her underwear, so could she take them off to wash them—next thing we had 20 naked girls running around the beach. We could have stayed out much longer if it were not for a cloud burst that sent everyone running for their clothes. Some of the girls complained that their clothes were wet when we told them that they had to redress before going back to the house, no they couldn’t walk back naked. Rita and I rolled our eyes, well maybe you should have thought about that before you ran into the ocean fully dressed.
We returned to the main house for lunch and a fire was made for the girls to warm up around and dry their clothes. Without being prompted the girls all cleared their own stuff away and four of the girls even washed all of the dishes. I think the two maids were pretty taken aback, but certainly not complaining. Yvette gave all the girls large construction paper and markers to draw and they all ended up making cards for Yvette, telling her thank you, how much they had enjoyed their day so far and how they wished they could stay forever.
Our last activity before having to leave was with the horses, though we didn’t have much time which was a shame. Yvette talked a little bit about horses and then each girl (and all wanted to except one girl) got to sit bareback on one and got led around for a couple minutes. Some of the girls were terrified, but they loved it. Animals in Mozambique are treated and though of very differently than in America, so it was wonderful for these girls to see these huge creatures not as scary or simply a future meal, but as intelligent, feeling creatures—our friends even.
Even though it was chilly as the sun set and we returned home in the bed of a large truck, most of the girls curled up for nap, completely exhausted.
We had a snack when we arrived and then went down to the ocean. It was an chilly, overcast, and windy day, so it didn’t even cross my mind that the girls would want to swim. I should know better by now. The beach was covered in crabs so the girls immediately set off trying to catch them, determined that we would be having crab for dinner. As they started venturing closer and closer to the waves their pants started to get wet, so they asked if they could take their pants off. After another 20 minutes of girls accidentally getting too far in and soaked by a big wave, one girl asked if she could take her shirt off too and next thing all the girls were running around in their underwear. After another 30 minutes one girl said she had gotten sand in her underwear, so could she take them off to wash them—next thing we had 20 naked girls running around the beach. We could have stayed out much longer if it were not for a cloud burst that sent everyone running for their clothes. Some of the girls complained that their clothes were wet when we told them that they had to redress before going back to the house, no they couldn’t walk back naked. Rita and I rolled our eyes, well maybe you should have thought about that before you ran into the ocean fully dressed.
We returned to the main house for lunch and a fire was made for the girls to warm up around and dry their clothes. Without being prompted the girls all cleared their own stuff away and four of the girls even washed all of the dishes. I think the two maids were pretty taken aback, but certainly not complaining. Yvette gave all the girls large construction paper and markers to draw and they all ended up making cards for Yvette, telling her thank you, how much they had enjoyed their day so far and how they wished they could stay forever.
Our last activity before having to leave was with the horses, though we didn’t have much time which was a shame. Yvette talked a little bit about horses and then each girl (and all wanted to except one girl) got to sit bareback on one and got led around for a couple minutes. Some of the girls were terrified, but they loved it. Animals in Mozambique are treated and though of very differently than in America, so it was wonderful for these girls to see these huge creatures not as scary or simply a future meal, but as intelligent, feeling creatures—our friends even.
Even though it was chilly as the sun set and we returned home in the bed of a large truck, most of the girls curled up for nap, completely exhausted.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
20/05/10
Today I told a class that it was very important to all come to school tomorrow because we were doing recuperation for the test and most of them badly needed it because they had done so poorly on the test. A couple of them told me it was my fault they had done so badly, since I didn’t let them use scrap paper. I almost erupted. I was so angry I couldn’t respond other than to waggle my finger at them in disagreement. It’s not my fault that I told you exactly what would be on the test but clearly most of you didn’t study AT ALL because you missed even the “gimmes” I put on the test to ensure that too many people wouldn’t have zeros. How dare you say it was my fault you did so poorly when you should be apologizing to me for wasting my time and thanking me for giving you the opportunity to raise your grades!
A man doing work in my room (I finally got the mirror that I bought in December hung today!) was asking me about being a volunteer—basically he couldn’t understand what we get out of it. I told him, look I am living in a foreign country, I have learned a new language, I am learning a new life. True I am a volunteer, but I am gaining more from this experience than anyone else. I tried to explain that in America the Peace Corps is a known and respected organization, and most people respect the fact that I am learning more here than I could for two years in a job, but I don’t think I convinced him. And really, how to you explain all this to someone for whom careers (not a job, but a career), networking, grad school, etc literally don’t exist? He must just think I am crazy. But afterward he tried to convince me to stay after my two years are up.
222 (minus the few students who didn’t show up to take their test) tests graded in the past 3 days, check.
One of the girls in the orphanage found out last night that her mother died in an accident (she is here for other reasons). What do you say to a 9-year-old whose mother died? The only consolation is that she is surrounded by friends who can relate. She is makes my heart swell every time I talk to her because she only arrived a few months ago and is proof of how much good being in a wonderful environment like we have here can do.
A man doing work in my room (I finally got the mirror that I bought in December hung today!) was asking me about being a volunteer—basically he couldn’t understand what we get out of it. I told him, look I am living in a foreign country, I have learned a new language, I am learning a new life. True I am a volunteer, but I am gaining more from this experience than anyone else. I tried to explain that in America the Peace Corps is a known and respected organization, and most people respect the fact that I am learning more here than I could for two years in a job, but I don’t think I convinced him. And really, how to you explain all this to someone for whom careers (not a job, but a career), networking, grad school, etc literally don’t exist? He must just think I am crazy. But afterward he tried to convince me to stay after my two years are up.
222 (minus the few students who didn’t show up to take their test) tests graded in the past 3 days, check.
One of the girls in the orphanage found out last night that her mother died in an accident (she is here for other reasons). What do you say to a 9-year-old whose mother died? The only consolation is that she is surrounded by friends who can relate. She is makes my heart swell every time I talk to her because she only arrived a few months ago and is proof of how much good being in a wonderful environment like we have here can do.
19/05/10
Sometimes I encounter cultural differences in the most unexpected places. In Mozambique, a test is like the final draft of a paper that, one printed, you carry in a folder or something to prevent it from getting dirty or scuffed. They are accustomed to using a piece of scratch paper on which they do all of their work, and then we write only their answers on their test. I have a student ask me for another piece of paper because she wanted to rewrite her test after it was finished, because it was too messy in her opinion. But I don’t let them use scrap paper for two reasons: first, to control the papers on their desks during a test because cheating is such a problem here, and second because I want to see what they did to be able to give them credit. And no matter how many times I explain to them that in math it is important to show all of your work and this system is to their benefit because it gives me the opportunity to give partial credit, you would honestly think I was telling them I want their firstborn child when I tell them they can’t use scrap paper. And many of them still refuse to write on their tests. For simple algebraic operations they write on their desks and the walls and when I yell at them for this they write on their arms and hands.
Caught one boy cheating today, and like the previous times I felt that I was the one who felt more remorseful. I eventually had to kick him out of class because he was being intentionally noisy and disruptive and I had nothing left to threaten him with, as he already had a zero on the test.
Today was pleasant enough that I knew I wouldn’t sweat, so I wore a cotton dress with short sleeves that I haven’t been able to wear much since coming here since you sweat through it in all sorts of unattractive ways. One of my students was wearing a puffy down winter jacket. When I asked her if she was sick she responded “no, I’m just feeling chilly today.”
Caught one boy cheating today, and like the previous times I felt that I was the one who felt more remorseful. I eventually had to kick him out of class because he was being intentionally noisy and disruptive and I had nothing left to threaten him with, as he already had a zero on the test.
Today was pleasant enough that I knew I wouldn’t sweat, so I wore a cotton dress with short sleeves that I haven’t been able to wear much since coming here since you sweat through it in all sorts of unattractive ways. One of my students was wearing a puffy down winter jacket. When I asked her if she was sick she responded “no, I’m just feeling chilly today.”
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
18/05/10
Something about the weather here, but I think I have seen more rainbows in the past 8 months than in my entire life. One big difference is that we rarely have rainy days here, rather it will go from sunny to stormy and back many times within one day. Today we had a beautiful double rainbow during one of my classes.
My student who cannot read or write hasn’t shown up to class the past two days, missing, in addition to all the classes, his math and geography exams. There is a slight possibility that he is seriously ill, but seriously I doubt it. I am frustrated because short of marching to his house (and I don’t know where it is yet, though that may be something I find out in the near future), there isn’t much I can do for him if he doesn’t show up to school. At the same time, with 222 students, I don’t have time to be knocking on the door of one student and dragging him to school and teaching him to read and write if he doesn’t want the same things for himself. I have far too many students who want and need help to be wasting my energy on someone who won’t reciprocate my efforts.
My student who cannot read or write hasn’t shown up to class the past two days, missing, in addition to all the classes, his math and geography exams. There is a slight possibility that he is seriously ill, but seriously I doubt it. I am frustrated because short of marching to his house (and I don’t know where it is yet, though that may be something I find out in the near future), there isn’t much I can do for him if he doesn’t show up to school. At the same time, with 222 students, I don’t have time to be knocking on the door of one student and dragging him to school and teaching him to read and write if he doesn’t want the same things for himself. I have far too many students who want and need help to be wasting my energy on someone who won’t reciprocate my efforts.
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