Life is now completely different now. Well first off, I am now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. Moz 15 left Namaacha for good December 3rd. We got to stay in a 5 star hotel called the Cardoso for literally less than a day. Nevertheless, it was absolutely amazing. Walking into this swanky air conditioned hotel after sitting in a hot chapa for the past hour and a half was like walking into a dream. Foreigners everywhere, we didn't even stand out that much other than the fact there were 70 of us. The hotel itself was like a resort on top of a cliff overlooking Maputo and the inlet. (I've already uploaded pictures to facebook and picasa.)
Of course we weren't able to check in yet. That would be too easy, and we all know things are never easy in/with the Peace Corps. We sat around downstairs eating the last packed lunches we would ever get from our host families. I can't think of a more fitting send off lunch than rice, fried potatoes (they're not french fries because they're limp and soft), a fried chicken leg, and a juice box. Then the hotel staff put out coffee/tea/juice, tea sandwiches, and baked goodies. I think it took them more time setting up the food than it took for us to devour everything in sight.
After recovering from 3 glasses of juice and countless pastries, I embarked on my mission to obtain a guitar from a guy who knows a guy . I flipped a coin for the last acoustic guitar and I lost. In hind sight, I should have just gotten a classic one. Unfortunately there were only 3 acoustic guitars, and I didn't want a classical one. More on that later.
We hung out downstairs comparing our matching capulana dresses/skirts/shirts and discussing how we were going to get ready. Well I don't know if you guys knew, but being in PC requires flexibility and patience. In attempts to be flexible, a group of us shaved and put on makeup in the sinks of the lobby bathroom, all in order to seem somewhat groomed again. Luckily, they managed to get us checked into our rooms 30 minutes before we were suppose to leave. I took a quick (HOT!) shower, dolled up, and strolled (read: ran) downstair. I was really excited just to see everyone dressed up and looking nice. Man, we are a good looking group of people when we want to be. Or maybe because my bar was set really low. Hey, we see each other sweating through shirts, stomping around through mud, all while talking about diarrhea. (Amanda, I'm completely fine with poo talk now.) I'm sure you guys know understand the countless pictures I upload of us wearing the same matching patterns. Science (which I'm a part of) got the tan and black patterned one. English, got the blue and green bows. And Health, I actually can't remember right now, but they got the other one. So not only could you tell that we were PC but you could even tell which sector we were in.
We got shipped to the Ambassador's house and got to shake hands with her and our country director. We filled in some seats and waited for everything to begin. It started raining. Of course not all of the seats fit underneath the tents. However, the rain eventually passed and it's actually a good omen here if it starts raining before a ceremony starts. Naomi and Daniel gave speeches, Moz 15 sang and danced, and then we stuffed ourselves silly with snacks and juice and soda. Surprise, surprise. Mini cheese and olive pizza bites, shrimp!, samosas, chicken legs, shrimp fluff balls, etc etc. They were delicious and dinner.
When were got back to the hotel, we just hung out and had fun. Not only was it Michelle's birthday, but it was also the last day that all of us would be together. I don't know if I've written this already or not, but more so than ever am I aware of how difficult it is to visit people down south if you're placed up north. It takes two days by chapa to get down south to Maputo from Nampula City, and flying is crazy expensive. Needless to say, we took advantage of that time together. Man! We even got to swim in a pool… that was full of bugs, but fun nevertheless.
The next morning was a hot mess. Groups were leaving at different times for different places. I wasn't even going to try to say goodbye to the 5am group. I unfortunately or fortunately was in the last group leaving the hotel at 10 (there was a group that had to stay an extra day at a crap hotel because there weren't flights for them on Saturday). But, I did eat the most amazing breakfast with the 8 am group. The breakfast selection was just too much: scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, GRANOLA!, YOGURT!, HASH BROWNS, ketchup, omelets, bacon… It was absolutely divine. Then the crying. I know for me seeing other people cry, makes me start crying. It was a hot mess. After tearing myself away from people, I rushed upstairs to pack my own bags, which I had torn through the previous night.
By the time I get downstairs, the Southern people were still there sitting in their chapas waiting to leave. Water works commenced again. I've been carrying a present for Amy all around Mozambique, and I finally decided that I was just going to wear it. So (yes Jiemin) I wore my little lacey blue clip on hat the whole trip up to Nampula. At the airport, on the plane, in the car, at the hotel. Good thing I did because it put me in a much better mood, which was much needed given the events of the rest of the day.
It's always just a little uncomfortable in Peace Corps. Uncomfortable in all meanings of the word.
So our group of 2nd round Northerners (it feels so wrong to refer to myself as a Northerner), leave for the airport. It was a tight fit in the car. I was sitting half off the seat and grabbing onto the front row for support. We get to the airport and it is sweltering already. Our flight wasn't for another 2 hours (at 12pm), but guess what time we boarded… A little after 1. We waited in the heat having mental fights with other Mozambicans who were trying to board as well for 3 hours. The computers were down so everything had to be done manually. It was a joke. We gave all our paper passports (our actual ones are being kept in Maputo due to visa issues) to one PC staff member who walked everything up and turned them in at the same time. Needless to say people were annoyed with us, but I don't really care because half of them skipped our group. We get on the plane and it's a free for all. You choose your seat.
I ended up sitting next to either a nun or a missionary who was going to Nampula to teach as well. There are a LOT of missionaries and father and brothers and sisters in Mozambique. Another interesting tidbit, the emergency exit seats on this airplane literally had twice the leg room of otherseats. So when we had our layover in Beira, I selected an emergency exist seat. Why would I do that you ask… Obviously I don't need the extra leg room… It's just the principle of the matter. But, the down side is that you cannot have anything in your lap, hands, or under the seat in front of you during take off and landing. Ummmm, fanning yourself with your hands = not effectice. Another interesting thing about airplanes in Moz is that they will actually serve you a meal and a snack and alcohol por gratis. American airlines should start doing that again.
Anyways, as we start landing into Nampula city I could instantaneously tell that the North was completely different from the South. There were mountains jutting out of savannah like flat lands that are littered with palm trees and thatched shacks. It was the image I had of Africa before I arrived 10 weeks ago. Blazing hot sun, expanses of land, and wild. Ok well, it wasn't completely wild . Nampula does have paved roads and multilevel buildings.
The hotel we stayed at was pretty nice, and I didn't even have to carry my bags up the stairs because there was guess what! AN ELEVATOR, with the pull open and closed type doors, which were never pulled closed. The first thing I did was take another running water shower! Apparently, the earlier group had been just hanging out in the city. Ryan knew someone (connections via PC Niger) who was now living/working in Nampula and she showed them around. The fact that most of the first group were napping should have been a hint of the heat I had yet to experience. Another crucial difference is now I wash clothing in sinks and hang them outside on the balcony to dry.
Dinner was buffet style. The food wasn't bad, it wasn't great. My expectations on food now isn't that high. There were rumors of a wedding party going on in the hotel, so we assumed that's what the party was for in the next room. Nope, it was a bank anniversary party. They sang happy birthday to their bank. Nevertheless, the people were just so chique. There were women who were wearing saris and had on face paint. It was just a striking difference from the South.
We set out early the next day to find guitars, cell phone stores, and Shoprite. I've touched on it, but the heat in the North is miserable. I don't know if it's that much hotter than some of the hottest days in North Carolina, but without AC to retreat back to I don't know how I'd handle it. It's significantly better under some shade, but sweat rags and umbrellas are completely necessary.
Nampula is a much more manageable city than Maputo (in my opinion). I was actually able to remember the roads and learn some of the store locations. I don't know if it's because I didn't get an accurate view of Maputo, but it seems like there are a lot more beggers and people with physical disabilities here. There is definitely a larger Muslim population here too. And not surprisingly, more Arabic presence and maybe a larger Indian presence. All the Chinese people here own stores.
While walking I got my hair petted by some stranger. It was weird, and I didn't think much of it then. Apparently the same creep did that to some of the other PCVs too. Since it was a Sunday, most stores were closed. But, not Shoprite. It is the holy grail of stores, and it comes at a price. It's like super walmart, 1/4 the size, 4x the price, but effing awesome. I've raved about it enough in previous posts so I'll spare you guys. We also went to the wood and crafts market. It was overwhelming and exciting. I am really excited to be able to go again one day when I had more mental strength. Getting screams of China or Chinese or Amiga for a period of time is mentally draining, and not to mention the heat and crowds. But let me just forewarn you guys, most things you send out to be "donated" to Africa… It gets sold here as clothing. It throws me off especially when I see class t-shirts from random places in the States. You never know, maybe I'll find that elementary shirt you wish your mom didn't give away.
We finally make our way back to the hotel and thought we were going to get feed. Apparently not. We waited probably 2 hours and it was a long ordeal, but we ended up getting 15 pizzas that we couldn't finish. Tuna pizza = not a favorite. Patience, Patience, Patience. I have so much more patience here.
Later that evening we had our first dinner with our supervisors. It was so awkward. I havne't really had to speak or think (significantly) in Portuguese for close to a week. So not only was it hard to make small talk with a complete stranger you didn't know who would be your boss for the next two years, but try making small talk when you have the grammatical structure of less than a 5 year old. There is no finesse or tact when I speak in Portuguese, which works out fine because there really isn't much finesse or tact required in this culture. People are really straight forward, good and bad. My host mom: You've gotten fatter (which is meant as a compliment for Mozambicans... ). Thanks, but no thanks.
Anyways, Lauren's and my supervisor is Brother Luis with the Comboni Catholic Mission in Carapira. Ok, if you didn't know, I'm not really up on my Catholicism. I spent the past few days thinking the translation for Irmão was monk. I know the direct translation is Brother, but I wasn't really familiar with that terminology and the closest thing I could think of was monk. Nuns are referred to as sister, and I always thought a male nun was a monk. So if anyone wants to email me a clarification of the Catholic hierarchy, it'd be much appreciated.
Anyways, at least we got to get out early the second day to do a little shopping. We went on the hunt for guitars and we found some at this Chinese loja. The one I've bought absolutely sucked, but I went back and got a exchange. Guy's I'm going to start learning how to play the guitar. I have to admit though, I haven't been doing so hot. I'm trying to learn on an acoustic and the metal strings are killing my fingers. My fingers have peeled completely, it's as if I'm shedding my fingerprints.
But while wondering around we walked into the Catholic church of Nampula and that thing is gorgeous. The murals and Saints provide a nice Euro-North American reprise from Africa. The little things that pull me out of Africa keep me sane some days.
Finally the day came for all of us to separate and leave. We drove out of Nampula in the Escola Industrial de Carapira's red truck, sitting three to the front with the windows down and strapped down in the back was everything I brought from America mixed in with all the things I need here. I had nothing left that was purely American, I'm really in Africa, in Mozambique. The paved N8 highway creeps into open plains littered with eclectically shaped mountains rising above mud thatched and zinc roofed houses, shrubs, red dust, heat, people carting water on their heads, roofed open chapas with passengers hanging on outside the railings and goats tied up on the roof. We pass semi trucks that have already delivered their cargo in Nampula returning to Nacala with new cargo - passengers on top with the sun blazing, wind blowing, ears ringing. I fell asleep to the heat from the sun blazing, wind blowing, ears ringing, and sweat.
Carapira is a village. Most of the people here are farmers and an elite group of vendors and store keepers. There are maybe 5 stores. The rest are professors at the primary and secondary schools, or somehow else affiliated with the schools (workers, tailor, mechanic etc.) with their electricity and fancy things that light up and play music. Then there are the Church affiliates, who live in open, clean, and gorgeous housing with running water and TVs.
Turning left off the N8 you see a barber/phone charging shop on the left and a random goods loja (store) on the right. And directly in front is the Church. This Church cuts into the horizon from kilometers away. It's so impressive and out of place, it's delicious. Right before the Church is the Hospital. I'm not sure if any doctors work there, but nurses and the Sisters help maintain it. There are always people sitting around waiting, resting, hoping.
The road dead ends into the EIC. Escola Industrial de Carapira. Where I will work for the next two years. Past the guard and gate is a two story building surrounded by palm trees with a little red drinking fountain surrounded by paved sidewalk paths and grass. Classrooms and administrative offices box this fountain where students drink from and where the water automatically turns off. The fountain automatically turns off. Student dormitories overlook the courtyard and path lined with palm trees leads away from the classrooms towards the cafeteria and library. I feel like I've arrived at an exotic destination inn. Behind the school is the technical/industrial work space. Wood cutting, furniture building, car gutting, (un)usable gas pump, cinder block holder, and the most gorgeous oak trees. For a second, I'm 7 again, in the states, and trying to figure out the best way to climb up the tree. Then my 21 year old self walks away towards the half cut trunk that's must have 3ft radius that's already been used for seats and desks and beds.
Lauren and I stayed in the school's guest house for the first two days. The house is made of cement and concrete and has screened doors and windows. Luxurious. Running water and a ceiling fan controlled with a switch. The fridge has two doors, one for the freezer and one for the refrigerator. When was the last time I've seen something like that?
We had lunch with the Director at the "monastery". Although I remember learning somewhere that European monks brewed beers back in the day, Irmao Luis drinking a beer completely threw me. I didn't know they could drink the beer they brewed. But I didn't know monks could be chique with their D&G transitional glasses either. We had dinner with the rest of the monastery group. There's Irmao Manfred from Germany who served in Kenya before Mozambique. He's soft spoken with a sweet smile. I like him, and he can also speak English. Padre Gino from Italy is quite the character. Once I get better with Portuguese I just want to sit down and have him talk at me, which he already does. But actually understand, because this guy has been in Mozambique for decades (even during the civil war). I'm desperate to learn more about life during the civil war and especially how it was for foreigners. There are a few Brothers I haven't met yet because they're vacationing. I have yet to really meet any of the sisters other than Irma Pina, who also teaches at the school. However, I really like Lourdes a Brazilian Missionary who lives in a gorgeous school owned house and makes the best food.
The market is really non-existent, especially right now. December - April is the tempo de fome (Time of Hunger). There aren't a lot of vegetables and the ones we can get are just pathetic. But there's always a supply of rice, pasta, bread, and dried fish (yummy/yuck). You take what you can get right? No. We just hitchhike the hour and half into Nampula to get food at Shoprite, where we hemorrhage money. We're foreigners with foreign standards without the foreign income.
Monapo is the district (county) capital for Monapo. It's about a 10 minute ride from Carapira. Chapas are 10 mets, but are always so crowded by the time they get to Carapira Lauren and I usually can't even get on. So we stand on the N8 and stick out our hands and grab at air, which is the Mozambican equivalent of thumbs out in the states. This is how we travel around Mozambique up in the North -hitchhike. Technically speaking, this is frowned upon, but this is the easiest and safest way to travel in my opinion. The chapas are always over packed with people and their stuff, and break down, and eh. With hitchhiking or boleia-ing we sometimes get an air-conditioned car with room between us and sometimes, we even get bought food and drinks. The people you meet and talk to, attempt to talk to, are always interesting. One of my favorite boleia's wasn't the nice air-conditioned with free food (even though it was so freaking sweet), it's the one in the back of a truck with the wind and sun, where I learned some Makua, taught some English, and made new friends. I think that memory will be one that epitomizes the experiences I have here. Free and exciting and enthralling. Alive. However, boleia-ing is hard work. Standing next to the hot road under the sun and getting dust and dirt flying into your eyes as cars reject you.
Anyways, Monapo is large by my now Mozambican standards. The market, the stores line a stree, a bank, and other volunteers. There are 3 PCVs in Monapo! I've really been meaning to write entries right after experiences because things become normal so quickly here, but also it's easier to be more neutral and informative after some time. It's the trade off. But in the Monapo market, we can find some veggies. The potatoes are the size of golf balls, tomatoes are cherry tomatoes, onions are pearl onions, and I think that's about it. Oh sometimes there's okra. Eh, but we can get beans and random non-perishables too. If we're feeling really fancy we can get frozen chicken from one of the shops! The market stalls selling bright plastic buckets, bins, capulanas, flip flops, and gaudy jewelry are clumped together facing walking paths. There's really little organization to what people are selling in their stores sometimes. You just got to go and walk around and peruse. Just make sure you walk fast past the meat swarmed by flies sold in wired boxes. I unfortunately made eye contact with the eyes of a severed goat head my first day. Another great thing about Monapo is the loja that sells apas and chamosas. Apas are the closest thing to fast food I can get near my site. It's a fried egg with ketchup and mayo folded in a tortilla. Didn't sound amazing the first time someone told me, but oh my is it good. And chamoasa are just samosas, curry beef or fish. I usually get an apa, samosa, and a cold orange fanta. Heavenly.
So in Carapira, there are two houses. One for me and one for Lauren. One had been lived in by Amanda the volunteer we're replacing. We saw both the houses, and both wanted to live in hers. We flipped a coin. Lauren called it. I'm now living in Amanda's house. I just put up pictures on facebook, but I feel like I should describe it anyways. My house is made of mud blocks and painted white inside and out. The walls don't reach the ceiling, which is my zinc roof. When I lie in bed at night, I can see the wooden support beams. It's good because this way some of the heat rises and vents out? Not really, because it's sweltering inside the house, which is why there's an outside gazebo type thing, but I don't spend much time out there. We're the neighborhood entertainment, so there's just little privacy at all. My floor is concrete I think, but the ants and termites have been eating through it so it's cracking and dipping in some places. The walls and wood are also being eaten by termites, so I did spend the first few days wondering if my house will collapse around me. However, such thoughts are now long gone. I have a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and study/storage room. Nice eh? Everything pretty much gets hanged up off the floor and it's easy to put nails into mud.
I pretty much have the sweep twice everyday to get the ants, other bugs, dust, and dirty out. However, I do have nice roommates that will take care of some of these pests for me. Spiders and lizards are bug eaters so I don't mind the small ones that much. However, at night, the tarantula like spiders try and usually succeed in coming into my house. They are large furry spiders that run as if they're on adrenaline. Literally. I'm not kidding when I say they are a good two if not three inches big. One night I had three in my bedroom. All I could do was stand outside my house waiting for Lauren to come and help kill them with me while the neighborhood children laughed and told me horror stories about how the spider will climb into my bed at night. That was a high stress and low moment for me. Some days are more mentally exhausting than others. I find that the mentally exhausting days are more excruciating than the physically exhausting ones. But now, I'm vigilant about stuffing a towel underneath my door once the sun sets. It makes it just a little bit harder for the spiders to invade.
As for the bathroom, I have an outside latrine and bathing area that's about 20 steps away. Lizards like chilling in there during the day and for the first few days at site there were large cockroaches liked to party there at night. Well, I did some partying of my own in there with some bug spray. I emerged short a lot of brain cells, but now I can enter my bathroom without cringing in complete disgust at night. Little victories!
I have electricity in my house, which has actually been more reliable than the electricity in Namaacha. Knock on wood. Currently there's a fridge and electric hot plate and fans that work with the current. Jiemin asked if it could support an AC unit. No. The lights flicker when I unplug the stove/burner and plug the fridge in.
I keep a 20L jug of water in my bathroom which I use to bath and flush. I also bought a large plastic barrel to hold water in my house, which I refill with water from the jugs my maid gets for me. So now you're thinking, wait Jenn has a maid. WTF. Yes, Lauren and I have a maid. While I can more successfully carry 20L jugs of water these days, I cannot carry them the distance from the pump to my house, which is why I have a maid. Women are strong here, and our maid is ripped at the age of 14. But still, it's crazy how little water Lauren and I use when I think about how much I used back in the States. We use about 40L a day between the two of us for everything - bathing, washing, cooking, drinking.
I've never really been concerned about water and food access/security before, but that probably has been the biggest challenge and origin of stress the first week here for me. For those who I talked to during my first week here, before I could adjust and get myself together, sorry for all the complaining. I'm good now. I'm making it work. It's amazing how you can get yourself mentally to accept things you thought were unacceptable before. Being here has been a big paradigm shift. My life is so different and yet at the same time the same.
I wake up around 5 now. I get out of bed, sweep, maybe work out, put out the jugs, and take a shower. I'm usually eating my normal breakfast of a peanut butter jelly sandwich by 7. I eat peanut butter now, and I might go as far to say I really like it. How things have changed. The sun is blazing and everything is HOT by 9. I still will mistakenly say good afternoon at 10a because it feels like 3pm heat. But, at least there's a break from 12-2:30, which is much needed. The heat drains you of all motivation to do anything. There is also the acceptance of sweat and dirt. So I sweated through that shirt, I hung it up, it aired out, and it doesn't smell. Ok that's good to wear again.
I've been to an initiation rights ceremony. It's so much different from reading a narration from my anthropology books, and I'm sure my description is even worse, but that was my first wow I'm in Africa moment at site. Amanda and I sat in the dark with the sound of drums and light from stars and a single light bulb. Amanda whispers, good thing we came, they were expecting us. I was glad we came too. We watched women dance and chant and whisper secrets to a girl who would no longer be a girl. We sat on mats and ate xima and rehydrated fish with our hands. To keep the xima from burning my fingers and I dipped pinches into the fish soup, and licked my fingers clean afterwards.
I've been to an initiation rights ceremony. It's so much different from reading a narration from my anthropology books, and I'm sure my description is even worse, but that was my first wow I'm in Africa moment at site. Amanda and I sat in the dark with the sound of drums and light from stars and a single light bulb. Amanda whispers, good thing we came, they were expecting us. I was glad we came too. We watched women dance and chant and whisper secrets to a girl who would no longer be a girl. We sat on mats and ate xima and rehydrated fish with our hands. To keep the xima from burning my fingers and I dipped pinches into the fish soup, and licked my fingers clean afterwards.
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