It’s been a year! Can you believe it?! A whole year in Mozambique . Quite often around the ‘sleazy Teazy’ (as we affectionately refer to Moatize) do we begin conversations with “If you would have asked me 11 months ago what I’d be doing right now, I would have never guessed….” (but now we can say ONE YEAR!) This usually comes up when we’re stuck in some ridiculous situation. Like when I woke up to find an entire cows head in my kitchen. Like when Hannah had to sit through the ‘super mato pregnancy test’ (aka all female students had to whip out a boob to a panel of female professors to make sure they ‘weren’t pregnant’….not kidding…). Or when a baboon stole Helen’s purse and then proceeded to slap her in the mouth (can’t make that up… but it was kind of funny). Or when – on any number of occasions – I’ve been crammed onto a chapa or in the back of a flat bed truck and someone shoves a live goat into the mix…. Or (a personal favorite) decides that a skewer of field mice is the perfect snack for the drive.
It’s all just part of the ride, I guess J
It’s been a year since I’ve had access to a flushing toilet or a shower. Instead, water (or the lack of) has probably been one of the most stressful parts of my life here. Not the fact that it’s not “running” but the complete lack of it. As in, “Welp. There’s no water in Moatize, guess I’m not washing my hair”
It’s been a year since I’ve listened to the radio or watched any number of quality TV shows (Real Housewives, Kardashions and Jersey Shore – I’m looking at you). Instead, I listen to crazy Mozambican music and Justin Beiber (‘Baby’ obviously) against my will as it’s blaring from the market. I watch my neighbor kids playing and the goats and the 7 dogs that live at our house.
It’s been a year since I’ve zipped around in my beloved Jeep. Instead, I elbow no less than 3 people a day trying to get a ‘seat’ in a gutted van that will (inevitably) break down or have the door fall off within a week.
It’s been a year since I’ve gone to my favorite yoga class and then treated myself to a smoothie or a fountain Diet Coke. Instead, I walk my daily 4 k to and from school and (if I’m lucky) have a fresh mango/pineapple/tangerine/guava when I get home.
It’s been a year since I’ve crept around Whole Foods for an excessive amount of time looking at all the goodies. Instead, I hit the market near our house where ladies sit on the ground behind little piles of tomatoes, onions, coconuts, greens, garlic and piri piri peppers. Where I buy all of my dinner ingredients for about 40 cents and attempt to say a few words in the local language.
It’s been a year since I’ve felt like I blended in to a community. Since I’ve not gotten stares, since men haven’t literally yelled at me, since babies haven’t cried at the sight of a white girl. One year since I’ve hugged my friends, since I’ve had a real mattress, since I’ve blow dried my hair. One year since I’ve browsed the web, bought new clothes, worn high heels. I’ve missed my brother’s graduation, the death of my grandfather and countless other problems of my friends and family.
Now before you think I’m going on a big downer trip….
A year ago, I didn’t speak a word of Portuguese – and now, I can give a 90 minute lesson on the respiratory system. I had never stood in front of classroom and felt the excitement of students. I’d never seen the Indian Ocean or hiked up mountains or seen the stars this bright. I’d never travelled the length of an entire country by myself with just a small backpack. I didn’t know how amazing these women would be - carrying babies on their back and baskets of produce on their heads. I didn’t know the same generosity that is culturally ingrained in Mozambique – that someone would literally give you the shirt off his back or split what little food they have in half so that you can eat too.
It’s a beautiful thing!

