site placement!

Tete Tete Tete!

So last Thursday, November 18^th, we received our site placements – where we’ll live after training ends in 2 weeks. Seeing as Mozambique is twice the size of California, and there are volenteers in all 10 provinces, this was kind of a big deal.  The sites vary – and there are pros and cons to all of the m – but we knew that some people were going to luck out and get the nice apartments on the beach and that some of us would end up super mato (bush) without electricy or cell phone service (hey Hannah). To say that emotions were high is an understatement. 

SO. On a New Year’s Eve style countdown, we opened our envelopes…and there it was: TETE. I’ll be honest, my initial reaction was “are you kidding me?!” And let me tell you why. 1. Tete is the hottest place in the country. Every night when I see the weather, Mama Joana makes a face when she sees that the high is somewhere in the 40s. Tete = hot.  2. There are only 4 volunteer there right now. So when the ohhh 27 PCV in the southern provinces are having weekend beach parties, there is not much social action in Tete. And number 3. On the map, Tete is its own awkward area. It’s more a part of Malawi, Zambezia or Zimbabwe than Mozambique…so there is not much PC traffic through that area. 4 There was a bad reputaion for Tete going around, that unfortunately I didn’t understand until the day before placement (ironic?).  Basically people were saying that the only two letters in Tete were E and T… ET is one of the 8000 Peace Corps abbreviations that I’ve learned: Early Termination. Duh Duh Dummmm!

Ok now that I’ve given you the “I’m going to hate Tete” rant…. Let me tell you why I’ve changed my mind. 1. There are 7 new volunteers going to Tete…we’ve already increased the number of PCVs there by a million!  And we’ve already started to plan “a very mato christmas: feliz navidad” 2. My site is right outside of Tete City, which is the 2^nd biggest city in the country… Internet. Fruit. Pizza. All just 20 k away!  3. I have a roommate. So even though I’m “alone” … I’m not really!! Hi Helen!! Plus, Helen and I have been stuck together in every possible group during training, so it only makes since. That, or because her last name is Yeng and I’m Zoeller…. (this theory was shot down by Jenn Zeng, who was placed in Nampula) 4. Our school is a residential catholic mission school. And those are known for being reallyyy nice schools. Plus, they usually cap their class sizes – so I won’t have 120 kids in a class at a time (true story. It has happened to other volunteers).  5. *This is for anyone that knows me reallyyyy well!*  As a result of the large Brazilian owned mine, there is a particularly large Brazilain/International population (!!!!) Hellooooo World Cup 2014!! And how perfect that I now speak Portuguese too…. Watch out Christiano Ronaldo.

Yeah. I can’t come up with  much of a silver lining for the temperature thing…I guess anything less than 100 degrees  will be freezing and I can wear winter clothes when I come back to Namaacha?

Ok well wish us luck for our Thanksgiving potluck tomorrow! I have a feeling its going to slightly resemble A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving…but hey, who doesn’t like popcorn and toast? 

orphanage in Namaacha

Beach in Bilene

me, michelle, jenn and hannah

First Day of School

Today, was the first day of model school! If you’re wondering what “model school” is….its basically optional summer school for the teenagers of Namaacha. And why would one go to an optional summer school that starts at 7 am you ask? Well, to see what the crazy Americans are going to come up with, of course!

I tried to start my morning off on the right foot by getting up early so that I’d have plenty of time to get ready, have tea and walk the ¾ mile to the secondary school.  Naturally, none of this happened as planned. Such is my life! I woke up later than I wanted to (5:30 am, to be exact),  rushed to take my bucket bath.  Thinking I had made up for lost time, I was feeling good. Then, Epa! (“epa” is like the Mozambican OMG) We were out of gas for the stove. And before I had taken tea.  Before Mama Jonana had created something that resembles a fried egg … but …not. What a catastrophe! I’m trying to explain that I will survive without tea and that, honestly, the salad, bread, peanut butter and slice of American cheese she is going to force me to eat is sufficient.  But no. She insists on whipping out the charcoal to “at least boil water for tea.”  Knowing fully well that I was not going to change her mind, I let her continue.  I rushed through tea and breakfast – knowing I was already leaving the house later than I wanted to.  On my way out the door, Mama Joana discovers that my shoes are not as clean as they should be…and she HAS to clean then before I leave (only to walk through yet another muddy path).  Ok, that’s fine. I’ve accepted that I’m just going to be a few minutes late. No worries there. Mozambican time is like island time….  Even if you’re 15 minutes late, you’re still probably 30 minutes early. 

I got to school in plenty of time.  Got my bata (a white lab coat that all secondary school teachers wear).  Got my list of 10^th grade students. Had a minor panic attack when I saw that both 10^th grade classes had 35 students each (which was 3 times bigger than most of the other model school classes – but still half as small as a real Moz classroom…yeah, do THAT math! Ha!) Then, had another minor panic attack when I saw the ages of my students…they ranged from 15 to 34, with most in their mid- twenties.  That’s not intimidating or anything.

Luckily, the first day is always low on a attendance and we ended up with about 30 students between both turmas (homerooms).  No complaints there! And the age thing was not nearly as big of a deal as I thought it was.  Granted, I couldn’t understand every word that came out of their mouths.  They were super patient with my Portuguese and  were really participative, too.   Overall, I was pretty impressed with myself… 6 weeks of intensive language classes. Lots of educational technical sessions. And bam! My first class is behind me! It feels pretty good!

Birthday Par-tay

By far one of my favorite things so far in Moz is the “festa” scene.  Mostly because they’re usually like more dreamlike than life-like… For example, this past Friday was our friend Chris’s birthday.  I guess that I was assuming we’d all go out to the same bars we usually go to and have a beer(s). However, word spread through Bairro A (the science neighborhood…yes, I live in a science neighborhood) that there was a family party that night and that there would be two (TWO!) cakes – if you got there in time.  When a group of 8 volunteers arrived at his house around 7:30, we started the festa train (festa means party, btw). His mom brought out all of the chairs from their house and sat them in a circle – which is standard party formation for the chairs.  More people showed up slash circled around while his mom started carrying out massive dished of food.  Turns out this “family party that might have cake” was actually a full-blown dinner party for the volunteers. Which was pretty much amazing…Mostly, because Festa food is very different than everyday food. Everyday food is rice and some kind of green vegetable that has been cooked into mush (I love it, don’t get me wrong).  And festa food is, well, not that! There was chicken and some other kind of meat…. Pasta salad. “Fancy” rice.  Two types of cole slaw.  They weren’t kidding around. This was a serious bday party. Instead of lighting candles and singing Happy Birthday, we all gathered around the table and sang three different versions of the Portuguese birthday song while he and his mom cut the cake. And when I say “cut the cake,” I mean like, wedding style (shout out to Holly, who is a pro cake cutter hah!) where he and his mom both cut a slice with the same knife while we watched. Then, he took a little bite of cake with his hands and when he ate it, the room burst into applause.  Standard for American Birthdays? I think not. Entertaining? Absolutely.

Play dates and cooking lessons

Our Ed.Tech. session today was about “non formal education”…which
basically consisted of a group of education volunteers being dropped
off at a local orphanage.  First of all, this place is in my
neighborhood – about a 5-minute walk from my house – and I have never
heard of it before.  When we arrived, the kids (the majority looked
like they were under 10, but a few were as old as 16) sang us a little
welcome song. Precious.  There are about 50 or so kids living there
now, and during the school year there are even more (keep in mind,
it’s summer here).  There were 2 classrooms – each with decent sized
wooden tables and chalkboards on the walls. Since there are only two
rooms, each “grade” meets at a table.  There was a little “dining
room” with tiny chairs pulled up to wooden benches for tables and a
room with arts and crafts supplies too.  At night, the kids pull out
mats and sleep on the floor around the building.  They also have a
little machamba (garden) and some pigs that the kids care for.  A very
nice nun appeared to be in charge, and from what I could see, the
building and grounds looked very well maintained – much nicer than the
secondary school in Namaacha.  We broke up into small groups of
volunteers and kids to play games and practice this “non formal
education” business.  My group had planned on testing out “simon says”
(which we translated into “Diego diz”)  with our group.  That lasted
for, ohhh 30 seconds because the group of 8-year-old girls we were
playing with had better games to teach US! So within minutes we were
clapping and singing and running in circles – only half understanding
the rapid fire array of games being thrown at us. It was like the
ultimate recess. I don’t think I’ve played so hard since I was 8 years
old myself!  The girls thought we were hilarious and laughed at
everything we did – plus, we were laughing at ourselves and each
other… it was way too much fun.  And since its summertime, the kids
that live there only have one or two “classes” in the morning and play
the rest of the day... so we’re going to make regular trips over just
to play games!


Before today, the only samosas I’ve known were at Indian restaurants –
and anyone who knows me is well aware of my obsession with Indian
food! Ha! Well, Eddie’s sassy little 16 year old sister decided she
would teach us how to make samosas.  I thought this was just a little
lesson, but somehow it turned into a biggg production. By the time I
got there, she had already scaled and gutted 10 fish. TEN. Then she
told Eddie that he and her dad needed to move the kitchen table
outside so that we had space to “work.” The whole family was out
there. Neighbors. Friends. Probably 12 of us in total (including the
cutest baby ever!) worked outside while the teenage girls tried to
make me sing Justin Beiber songs to them… We made the dough for the
outside of the samosa and rolled it into thin sheets using glass beer
and coke bottles.  Then, with a large, flat lid over a charcoal fire,
we toatsted the dough.  Since it was already dark – and there was no
electricity (normal in Namaacha) we had to take turns winding the
flashlight so the cooks could see. Picked the meat off the
fish…Sauteed some onions. Attempted to fold said dough into triangles.
 Stuffed and fried samosas. All over a little charcoal fire. Pretty
impressive! About halfway into this process – Eddie and I got
sidetracked on other things that we could make with the dough…
Tortilla for a burrito (with beans, rice and homemade salsa) was the
decided favorite. I can’t waittt to be able to cook for myself!

Round Robin Cultural Relays

      This past Monday, the science education
group met at our library to “test” our cooking/cultural skills.  We
built fires and lit charcoal (which is harder than I thought) ,
cracked and grated coconuts, killed and dressed chicken, and ground
peanuts with a giant mortar & pestle.   All of these are totally
normal, everyday events… which is why it takes at least 3 hours to
make any meal!
-       Perma-gardening … Peter Jenson, a permaculture/bio-intensive
gardening guru came to Mozambique to teach us how to maximize our
machambas (farms/ gardens).  Basically, we showed us how to “double
dig’ beds and how to re-format the soil so that we can grow 4x the
amount of food in a small garden.  I can’t wait to have one at my
site… some of our local plants that I want to include are papayas,
mangos, avocados’, bananas, lemongrass, corn, beans, tomatoes,
peppers.  I can’t wait to have my own kitchen and be able to cook for
myself!
-       The ever-popular topic of conversation around the Moz15 group is
site placement (where we’ll be stationed after training).  November
18th is the big day! I don’t think I realized how big of a deal it
was…but it pretty much determines the next 2 years.  Mozambique is a
HUGE country (twice the size of California, to be exact!), and the
North is very different from the South.  AND since transportation is
such a mess, whoever is stationed near me will essentially be my
friends for the next 2 years.  Woof. 11 days and counting….
-       Second most popular topic of conversation: Beach trip to Xai-Xai.
The majority of our training class PLUS a ton of volunteers in the
south are renting beach houses for our “mental health break.” So that
should be awesome!  Especially since we’re going right after site
announcements….

This week is going to be our last “normal” week of training. After
that, we start Model School… a two week long summer school for kids in
Namaacha.  I’m teaching 4 lessons of 10th grade biology which will be
evaluated by my directors and other volunteers.

The pursuit of Pizza, Milkshakes and Wireless

I’m really not sure the best way to tell this story….so I’m going to try a little timeline action….which will inevitably fail. Ha! But you’ll get the point…

6 am – wake up (thank you roosters), take bath, clean room, have tea

8 am – meet Michelle, Shannon, Hannah, Drew and Jon on the main road in Namaacha to walk to the fronteira and catch a chapa to Matolo.

A few minutes after 8 am – get picked up by chapa… drive 3 times through Namaacha looking for other people to go to Matolo and thus fill the chapa to it’s capacity of 19.  PS a chapa is a van with 4 rows. In the states, you’d fit 12 adults comfortably. …

9 am – finally leave Namaacha. 

10:15 am – arrive at Shoprite. Glorious, glorius shoprite. They have Christmas decorations, they have produce, they have a candy aisle, they have every thing you could ever possibly want.  It was complete sensory overload. We literally just walked up and down every aisle.  OH. They have cash registers! That’s like, a biggg deal. 

11 am – sit down at Mundo’s, a restaurant in the same strip as Shoprite.  Once again, completely overwhelmed by the menu.  Anything that’s not white rice, bread, or some kind of green mush is a delicacy at this point.  After a solid 15 minutes, the only thing we could decide on was that we needed a round of chocolate milkshakes to start.  After thoroughly enjoying those – in a comfy booth and with our laptops (Mundo’s has wireless. It’s pretty much why we chose that place)- we moved on to the real meal… Pizza and diet coke.  So there we sat. For 3 hours. Happy as little clams.  We facebooked and blogged and skyped. We ate and ate and ate.  Loving every overly-full second of it. 

2:15 – leave Mundo’s… thinking we just have a quick hour-long ride in a chapa back to Namaacha.  But oh how wrong we were….

Around the time it starts raining, we realize that chapas do not run from Matolo to Namaacha. Fabulous.  So after asking around and standing on at least 5 different corners, we decide that we need to find a bus to Boane and then we can catch a chapa from there.  Easy, right? False. So false.  One bus to Boane pulls up.  It’s about the size of a school bus or a city bus, and it is literally packed with people.  PACKED. There really isn’t a better way to say it.  It is body to body.  So full  that the door won’t shut.  There are 4 people on the steps hanging on to the outside of the bus.  So, we let it pass. There is no way we’re fitting 6 more people on there. 

Twenty minutes later, another bus comes. This time, we were determined. If we were going to get on that bus, we needed to be serious about it.  We had to knock a few people out of the way to get on.  Basically, Drew got on first and pulled all of the girls into the bus while Jon pushed from the other side.  I have never been in a tighter space.  Ever.  So crowded you couldn’t move your arms. Really, you couldn’t move at all.  About a half and hour later – we finally made it to Boane. Just a quick chapa ride from Namaacha….not.

Once we found a place to pick up a Namaacha-bound chapa –we had a longgg wait.  And the thing is, there are no maps. There are no scheduled times for departure. People just go and wait. So there we are, just waiting.  An hour or so later, in rolls a chapa. We take off in a dead sprint – determined to get on.  Successful and uncomfortable, all six of us make it in.  Minor bumps and bruises, a few elbows to the neck/face area. But we’re all there. Now we’re waiting inside the chapa. We wait and wait.  And the driver disappears.  The sliding door has come unhinged and the door won’t shut.  Half of the passengers abandon the chapa for an open back truck…. This is not the little chapa that could. 

Having accepted that we need another option – and repeatedly trying to get ahold of a training manager for back-up – we seriously consider getting in the back of a pick up truck.  Luckily, our better judgment won the battle and we decided to wait for anther chapa.  Finally – by some miracle – a Namaacha bound chapa pulls up.  We jump in and away we go!

Lots of bonding. Lots of pride.  We ended up stress eating most of the goodies we bought at ShopRite en route.  But. We made it! Walking through Bairro A needed a serious double fist pump.  Plus, the entire ordeal was totally worth it….

Shout out to the Boane 6!  After all, “T.I.A” …….. This is Africa.