Margarita, "chique de matar" (dressed to kill)
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
26/10/10
Like I said yesterday, Ann and I are down in Maputo due to tick fever. We will be here until Thursday at the earliest which is sad because I wish I had known that last Friday would be my last day with my students. Also I have been pretty nauseous for a couple days so I haven’t been able to full take advantage of being in Maputo (in other words, all the good food).
A few weeks ago my bike was stolen. From the way it was stolen (from inside the mission, which is very secure, and between 6pm and 8pm) it was apparent that whoever stole it was a person from within the mission. The bike resurfaced about a week later, one of the guys who works at the mission called me and said he thought he had found my bike. A boy (about 17 years old) who does yard work on the mission had it, though it had been stripped of all stickers and the bike rack that made it easily identifiable. He claimed he had bought it from someone in town the day after it was stolen from the mission, though he said he didn’t know the person who had sold it to him. Initially I just believe him, but the more I talked to other people and the more I thought it, I realized his story didn’t make much sense. And nobody else believes him, everyone else (because this has become the main topic of gossip around the mission) keeps telling me he’s lying and that he’s the one who stole it. I have asked 8 Mozambicans who I really trust and they have all told me that it is impossible for him to have bought something in Inharrime (not a huge town where everyone pretty much knows each other) and not know the person who sold it to him, especially something as big as a bike. The head sister at the mission wants to fire him saying “a bike today, tomorrow a car” and I understand that, but I don’t want it to be because of me. What we have done for now is put the bike into a neutral location and told him, you have until the end of the month to find the person who sold you the bike, if you don’t then we have to believe it was you who stole it. He said he had tried finding the person without success, but I find that hard to believe. Since we know it had to have been someone on the mission who stole the bike and they are all talking constantly (Mozambicans love to gossip), it’s impossible that he wouldn’t have heard by now who it was. We’ll see what happens. What has made me really happy about this whole situation is the fact that all of the other people at the mission (Mozambicans) have fiercely stuck up for me and taken my side, telling me to just take the bike back and that the boy stole it. I was a little afraid that people might not necessarily have sided with him, but have wanted to stay out of the situation, simply because he is Mozambican and I am the foreigner. But it was nice to know that people value me enough as a friend and part of the community now that they handled the situations as if it had been between two Mozambicans.
A few weeks ago my bike was stolen. From the way it was stolen (from inside the mission, which is very secure, and between 6pm and 8pm) it was apparent that whoever stole it was a person from within the mission. The bike resurfaced about a week later, one of the guys who works at the mission called me and said he thought he had found my bike. A boy (about 17 years old) who does yard work on the mission had it, though it had been stripped of all stickers and the bike rack that made it easily identifiable. He claimed he had bought it from someone in town the day after it was stolen from the mission, though he said he didn’t know the person who had sold it to him. Initially I just believe him, but the more I talked to other people and the more I thought it, I realized his story didn’t make much sense. And nobody else believes him, everyone else (because this has become the main topic of gossip around the mission) keeps telling me he’s lying and that he’s the one who stole it. I have asked 8 Mozambicans who I really trust and they have all told me that it is impossible for him to have bought something in Inharrime (not a huge town where everyone pretty much knows each other) and not know the person who sold it to him, especially something as big as a bike. The head sister at the mission wants to fire him saying “a bike today, tomorrow a car” and I understand that, but I don’t want it to be because of me. What we have done for now is put the bike into a neutral location and told him, you have until the end of the month to find the person who sold you the bike, if you don’t then we have to believe it was you who stole it. He said he had tried finding the person without success, but I find that hard to believe. Since we know it had to have been someone on the mission who stole the bike and they are all talking constantly (Mozambicans love to gossip), it’s impossible that he wouldn’t have heard by now who it was. We’ll see what happens. What has made me really happy about this whole situation is the fact that all of the other people at the mission (Mozambicans) have fiercely stuck up for me and taken my side, telling me to just take the bike back and that the boy stole it. I was a little afraid that people might not necessarily have sided with him, but have wanted to stay out of the situation, simply because he is Mozambican and I am the foreigner. But it was nice to know that people value me enough as a friend and part of the community now that they handled the situations as if it had been between two Mozambicans.
Monday, October 25, 2010
25/10/10
In Maputo right now. Ann and I, being the Siamese twins we are, managed to get tick fever together. On Saturday we both became covered with small red bumps that looked like chicken pox and although we have both had chicken pox before, my brother managed to have chicken pox twice and in Mozambique, anything is possible. The good news is that we aren’t highly contagious, just feverish and covered with little red bumps.
Just now we were sitting in the Peace Corps office when we heard the some terribly loud noise on the roof. Looking out the window we realized it was hailing! Apparently it hails in Mozambique. Hail the size of nickels.
Just now we were sitting in the Peace Corps office when we heard the some terribly loud noise on the roof. Looking out the window we realized it was hailing! Apparently it hails in Mozambique. Hail the size of nickels.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
22/10/10
Matt, the leader of JOMA (the co-ed/boys equivalent to REDES, our girls’ group) quoted a line from my youth that I had said after I tried switching from playing on boys’ hockey teams to girls’ for the first time (and decided it sucked). I had said “Boys are stupid, girls are mean. Stupid is better.” He said this after REDES pulled their second successful prank on JOMA. Score: two- zip.
21/10/10
Today I was sitting on my front porch grading exams and listening to music while Margarita and Isaura (see video and picture) colored when an 11th grade student came over to talk to me (my front porch is about 30 yards from the school which has its advantages and disadvantages). I knew him by face, I have talked to him a few times before and helped him with math homework. “Teacher, I really need to learn English!” He explained that he does well in English class and can thus write it pretty well, but he has trouble speaking. And he is interested in studying in South Africa after he graduates from here next year, but he has to be able to speak English for that. Due to great interest and participation from colleagues and students during English Theater this year, I will be starting an English Club at the school next year (there is only one week left of classes) with the aim of improving students’ conversational English, so I told him that. I lent him a Portuguese-English dictionary and children’s book in English and told him to try reading it, and after we could discuss it and I could help explain what he didn’t understand. His concern is legitimate; many of the better post-high school options are outside of Mozambique (South Africa. This used to include Zimbabwe but I don’t think so anymore). And I really want to help, I just don’t know how to go about it.
I called a friend from home to wish her happy birthday (happy birthday Scam!) and during our conversation she asked if I can tell that Portuguese is starting to take over my English. “Your blogs are funny to read” she said “because sometimes you’ll just kind of use the wrong words.” I thought that was a very nice and delicate way of phrasing it.
I called a friend from home to wish her happy birthday (happy birthday Scam!) and during our conversation she asked if I can tell that Portuguese is starting to take over my English. “Your blogs are funny to read” she said “because sometimes you’ll just kind of use the wrong words.” I thought that was a very nice and delicate way of phrasing it.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
18/10/10
Today was the last day of final exams for this trimester. When I walked into a 10th grade classroom I heard two boys call me mulungo so I called them to the front and said to them “this is incredibly rude and disrespectful, but I know I can’t make you polite at this age, however I can make you regret saying that.” So I made them sit on the floor facing the class and take the exam like that, which was a little mean because it was a Design exam and a long one, 90 minutes.
In the afternoon on my way to an exam the teacher for that discipline specifically told me that the kids couldn’t use scratch paper, so when I got to the classroom I told them that. He came around about halfway through the exam to answer questions, as is the norm, and one of the students complained that they needed scratch paper. “Well why didn’t you get it out before the exam started?” he asked. Thank you, thank you for making me look like the jerk.
In the afternoon on my way to an exam the teacher for that discipline specifically told me that the kids couldn’t use scratch paper, so when I got to the classroom I told them that. He came around about halfway through the exam to answer questions, as is the norm, and one of the students complained that they needed scratch paper. “Well why didn’t you get it out before the exam started?” he asked. Thank you, thank you for making me look like the jerk.
17/10/10
Anna, the national coordinator of REDES (girls in development. Education, and health), Emily, the national curriculum and training director, and I, national financial director, headed down to Maputo this past week to present our budget proposals for the coming year. We met first with Ruben, the Peace Corps Mozambique Country Director for feedback and suggestions. It’s interesting because although the REDES project was started by PCVs and is currently run by PCVs, it receives no funding from the Peace Corps (though they are incredibly supportive of the project). As the project continues to expand exponentially, and the near future of Peace Corps Mozambique will likely include a youth development sector (in addition to the two that exist currently, education and health), we are all trying to figure out where REDES is going and what it will become. The meeting with PC was helpful and informative and afterwards we headed over to the US Embassy to meet with Jennifer, the representative from the Public Affairs Office who is absolutely wonderful and one of our biggest supporters. Another productive meeting and now we just revisions to make in the next month or so.
After a few blissful days in the land of Thai food, ice cream, and skim milk I headed back to Inharrime today. Every time I travel in this country I give thanks for the fact that I am as slender, short, and agile as I am, because even as is, the buses and chapas in this country were made for children and are incredibly uncomfortable. When I got on the bus the man collecting money yelled at me “mulungo!” for me to pay. I turned to him and lectured, “you can call me branca (white) if you really want to, sister is okay, senhora (ms.) even better, amiga too, but not mulungo, that’s just rude.” Not willing to let me have the last word he goes “what about teacher, is that okay???” Smart aleck.
After a few blissful days in the land of Thai food, ice cream, and skim milk I headed back to Inharrime today. Every time I travel in this country I give thanks for the fact that I am as slender, short, and agile as I am, because even as is, the buses and chapas in this country were made for children and are incredibly uncomfortable. When I got on the bus the man collecting money yelled at me “mulungo!” for me to pay. I turned to him and lectured, “you can call me branca (white) if you really want to, sister is okay, senhora (ms.) even better, amiga too, but not mulungo, that’s just rude.” Not willing to let me have the last word he goes “what about teacher, is that okay???” Smart aleck.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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