Welcome Home!

Well, after a little over a week of waiting – we finally moved into our new house!!! With the help (ie truck) of Padre Pedro, we loaded up our boxes and bags our groceries and fans and headed to the house in Moatize.  As soon as we pulled through the gate (yes, there’s a gate) our neighbors who share the property were all up in our business. They unloaded the truck and helped us bring our bags in and then – shock – were aghast at the filth that was the inside of the big yellow house.  Before Helen or I could stop him, Antonio (the patriarch of the neighbor-house) had dumped buckets of soapy water onto the floor. Is this the most effective way to clean here I thought? Absolutely not. Am I in a position to stop or correct this middle aged man who wants to help us with this pigsty? Antonio also quickly informed us that right now, there is no electricity in Moatize. And when there’s, no electricity, there is not water.  Fabulous.

So while Antonio worked away at the floor, AntoniA (his daughter, are you surprised?) whisked us off to the market that is just beyond our gate. To buy bottled water, of course. Along with a mop, rags, and dishwashing soap (which we have since used to clean everything from dishes to floors/walls and cabinets and an oven)…Only late last night did we realize that we were still lacking toilet paper and food. BUT we were on a cleaning mission. No time for that.

Naturally we would be setting out on this cleaning binge at 2 pm…the hottest time of the day.  We scrubbed and sweated and scrubbed our kitchen. Which of course made me think of the time my mom helped move me back down to my house in college the summer before my senior year and how appalled she was at the state of the house. Our house, like any good college house, was named the DollHouse. Why? Because it was hideous on the outside and it needed a girly name since 5 girls would live there. Plus, when you have a party – it needs a location better than “Audrey, Lyndsay, Jessica, Koko and Katherine’s House”….Enter “There’s a party at the dollhouse tonight.” I digress. Anyways, she was shocked at the beer stuck to the baseboards of the walls (that had probably gone unnoticed for 9 months)…and so we cleaned and scrubbed and washed that house until it shined. “You will like cooking in this kitchen so much better now that its good and clean.” I’m pretty sure I’ve heard my grandma say that too. So as Helen and I broke a serious sweat scrapping god-knows-what off the inside of our “new” stove, I told her- “ Helen we’ll like cooking so much better now that this is clean.”  It’s more convincing when Char says it….

So when we finally reached a good stopping point and had rigged up our mosquito nets (I really love my mosquito net) – we took a break and wondered around our ground. At our house, we have about 4 or 5 dogs. One of whom recently had puppies – so we also have 5 precious less-than-2-month old puppies too! Why stop the fun with just dogs? We also have ohhh probably 30 or 40 goats. A load of chickens (standard, chickens are everywhere). And…this is the kicker…. About 50 pheasants. Now, galihnas do mato (or “chickens of the bush” as that translates) are goffy looking spotty birds with tiny heads, which makes me think they’re really stupid. I assumed these strange overgrown looking chickens could not fly, but oh I was wrong. They struggle/fly into a mango tree outside our backdoor at night.  All of them. Giant birds in a mango tree making a hideous squawking noise.  And they sleep there.  So when I am feeling creative with all of my free time and missing Christmas, I’m going to make myself a Twelve Days of Christmas: Moz Edition. And the number one thing will be “Pheasant in a Mango Tree”

The world’s most interesting dinner party….

Know when people ask pageant girls “if you could have dinner with 3 people , who would they be?” And they say something like “Will Ferrell, Elenor Roosevelt and their 7th grade English teacher” or something along those lines… Well, I’m pretty sure the party I attended last night was fruition of the pageant question.

When Padre Pedro (the director of my school who is currently doubling as my house-mate) said that Helen and I were going to accompany him to Rodalfo’s “despeidida” (going away party) I was fully expected an awkward evening.  And to be totally honest, that’s pretty much how it started out.

Padre Pedro, Padre Lucas, Padre Phillipe, Helen and I loaded into one of the Dom Bosco Professional pickup truck last night and set off to cross the bridge into Tete City.  We pulled up in front of an apartment building on the edge of the city and climbed the 5 flights of stairs to this Rodalfo character’s apartment. There, we found a small apartment fully decked out in Christmas décor and the usual Mozambican porcelain dogs (what IS it with those?!) plus some people working away in the kitchen prepared loads of food.  We introduced ourselves to them – a man from Portugal and a lady who spoke Portuguese with a French accent from Luxemburg (which she promptly told us was the 3rd smallest country in the world).  No Rodaldfo though, he apparently was still tomar-ing banho (taking a bath).

 We excused ourselves to the balcony to avoid the approaching awkward silence and onset of sweat from the heat of the kitchen.  As Padre Lucus was giving us a quick geography lesson on Tete City, a nun in full dress (they were all solid white here) came out.  She was adorable, as most friendly old nuns are – from Mozambique, 73 years old, and texted someone on her little phone.  We chatted with her until the elusive Rodaldfo (a Doctor from Mexico) appeared, still brushing his teeth and wearing wayyy to much cologne.  Kiss, kiss. Then he was gone.

We let ourselves inside (oh and when I say “we,” I’m generally referring to me and Helen) and sat on a sofa next to a man whose name I can not remember (nor could I pronounce).  He was an Ethopian doctor in Mozambique with Medicos Sem Fronteras (Doctors without borders).  He’s been here for a year now, and before was in Congo. We switched to English (since “Portuguese was a struggle” for him as well) and got some more background on him.  Marta – the lady from Luxemburg-joined us, as did a pretty, early-30s woman in a chic-y halter dress and the conversation reverted to Portuguese. The new woman was sitting next to me and I was thoroughly enjoying her side comments to the conversation and the fact that she was shocked I had just learned Portuguese two months ago.  Not knowing whether it was appropriate for me to just come out and ask her where she was from (there were very few natural Mozambicans here), I let it slide. Soon, a cute little old lady squeezed in between us on the couch.  Sister Esmerelda immediately told me that she has been here for 31 years and has no intention of returning to her native Spain.  She talked to the chic-y woman too and within minutes had uncovered the fact that the woman (Magdelena) was a young Doctor from Bolivia.

At this point, I was now in the company of an Ethopian, a Bolivian, and Nun from Spain…in a Mexican doctor’s apartment…speaking a ping-pong combination of Portuguese and English…sprinkled with Spanish and French.  I thought my head was going to explode!!  Where AM I ?!  Soon, 3 more people wandered in – and much to our surprise, 2 of them were American!  Jackpot!  Anna, the woman grew up in Brazil, and Chris, went to Bama for College.  We explained who we were and that we were in the Peace Corps and BAM.  Well, Chris was in the Peace Corps!  El Salvador, 93.  Then he worked for them for 10 years. He knows our Country Director Ruben.  And what are they doing here?  Well they’re starting a new USAID/PEPFAR project focused on community education and mobilization in the context of HIV/AIDS.  In fact, Dr. Rodalfo is working for them on this new endeavor.  They’re huge Peace Corps fans and fired a series of interview style questions at us, quickly noting that given the option of hiring a PCV or a non-PCV, they would of course chose the PC person!  Since they’re opening an office here in Tete City and already have funding for the next five years, Chris has so kindly offered to bring us our mail from Maputo once a month. (the mail issue has been a big problem.  Maputo – where our mail is being sent - is ohhhh a plane flight and a 6 hour drive from us.  And since Tete is kind of the red-headed step child of PC/MOZ and we don’t get much traffic up here, our mail will be sitting there for about a year until we retrieve it.)  Are you really sure you wouldn’t’ mind bringing the mail, I ask. He would be insulted that I would even ask that.  Of course he wouldn’t mind.  This is Peace Corps. He will gladly tote the mail.  And if we want to send any letters home, they DHL a package out once a month.

And on the way out of the apartment, Rodalfo asked if we like Mexican food.  Of course we like Mexican food.  Well, we’ll be sure to do that soon then, he replied.  As if the interesting company and mix of Portuguese/Spanish and Mozambican food wasn’t’ enough…

And that, friends, is currently holding the number one place in my book for “most interesting dinner party.”  So take that pageant question! HA!

The wonderful world of Tete

The seven of us bound for Tete, plus our supervisors, packed up our bus and headed out of Chimoio on Wednesday morning.  It took us about 5 hours just to get to Tete province – at which time we all perked up, wanting to see our new home.  The drive through the mato (bush) was unbelievable.  Maybe I’m just biased with my newfound Tete-pride, but this blew the mountains of Namaacha out of the water. For a while I was convinced that this stretch of land was the inspiration for “pride rock” in the Lion King. No joke. It’s breathtaking.  Every few minutes we’d pass a little village of round, thatched roof homes – usually circled around a giant tree. OK I can’t remember the name of this type of tree right now – but basically, the trunk of these trees are ginormous. I’m talking my bedroom in Louisville could fit inside. Huge.  So we drive, and drive and drive some more, all the while, no major signs of city life. Then BAM out of no where, we’re passing hundreds of semi-trucks and there are big industrial plants everywhere.  Hotels and gas stations.  Giant pieces of mining equipment.  Welcome to Tete City.

Tete City, and especially my new home (Moatize) are located right on top of a coal deposit.  Therefore, there are huge, international mining corporations.  There is a very strong Brazilian presence, as well as Australian and rumor has it that China will be here soon (jen zeng, get up here!).

OK back to the story… So even though we are essentially passing my drop off point, Chengadeia (who I am quickly becoming obsessed with) insists that we will accompany the rest of the volunteers to their sites first and then circle around and drop us off last. Because why wouldn’t we want to stay on the bus for another 6 hours to ride around and help move boxes?!  But, I’m so glad we did!  Every time we would pull up to a site, the entire bus got this weird adrenaline rush.  We were all just fixated on the windows, trying to see everyone’s new homes.  Then the bus would stop, and we would all get silent…and there was a kind of “are we really just gonna leave her out here?” moment.  All three sites we saw that day were pretty mato.  Two of the three don’t have any cell phone service.  They all live AT their little schools. There are no major markets.  Mato.  However, Mato sites (as I’m learning) make up for their lack of amenities with general charm.   They are quaint little villages nestled into beautiful, untouched mountains.  The people were friendly and welcoming –and naturally very interested as to why there was a bus full of Americans unloading boxes in their village.

So we dropped Derek, Eden and Hannah off at their sites –every moment captured on camera by our very own little paparazzi Changadeia. And surprisingly, I felt totally fine about leaving them their alone (sans cell phone service).  At this point, it’s dark. It has been raining for about 4 hours and we’ve been on this (not at all comfortable) bus for 11 hours now. And really, I was just ready to see MY site!

Apparently our house is not ready yet, so Chengadeia tells us that we will be staying at our school for a few days – which is fine.  All of the schools we had seen so far were pretty much just 2 rows of classrooms facing a courtyard, so when we pulled up in front of a huge gated campus complete with armed guard to escort us in, I was a little surprised.  We unloaded all of our boxes and bags – not entirely thrilled about having to do this again in a few days- and walked into the building where all of the Padres live.  Did I mention that this is a Catholic mission school?  So yes I live with 3 priests for the time being.  Anyways, this place blew my mind.  There’s a nice little zen, fountain room when you first walk in.  Next, there’s a little courtyard which is surround by 8 little bedrooms (each complete with a comfy bed, desk, and private bathroom/shower with running water).  We also have a chapel, an “entertainment” (?) room with a TV and lots of book shelves, a dining room and a kitchen.

Moral of the story is that Helen and I are about to be the “city folk” compared to our friends in the mato.  For the past 5 days, we’ve been having home-cooked, sit down meals with the Padres and trying to figure out what to do with the excessive amount of free time we have.  Showering in real live showers.  Reading.  Exploring our incredible school grounds and Tete city.  Reading.  Playing basketball.  Did you hear that?!  Playing basketball.  That’s how bored we are.  Ha!

Chimoio- Land of Awkward interations and Overeating..

For the past few days I’ve been living in a world of awkward at our “supervisor conference.” All of the education volunteers for the central region of Moz and our school directors have been at a 48 hour-long pow-wow attempting to explain what exactly Peace Corps is and why US and Mozambican education systems are different.  I have a feeling that Helen and I lucked out seeing as our director is SUPER into this (he’s been taking notes and pictures like crazy).  However, this has been completely exhausting… the language barrier, the age difference, the cultural differences.  Exhausting!  Needless to say, the most “mental” relaxation comes at snack times and meals.  Hence, the constant overeating.

Oh and add to the “stress list” the fact that two days ago, I changed my name.  I’m not sure if I mentioned this or not, but Mozambican can NOT say Audrey.  It comes out something like “wahdd raa”… which, is not Audrey.  And seeing as Audrey does not have a Portuguese translation, we’re going with Caroline.  So as of now, my name is Carolina.  Mozambicans can say Carolina, and in fact, they seem to remember it.  The struggle here is that I don’t really answer to Carolina… BUT I did better today than I did yesterday.

 And tomorrow the awkward shock continues when we move to our sites.  This is officially the beginning in my new home!!  Chengadeia (my director…yeah try to pronounce that name) is helping Helen and I get settled into our new house – which is conveniently located close to his home too. So after an exhausting FULL day on a bus tomorrow (like, 13 hours) I will (hopefully) arrive in Moatize.  To a house that only has 2 bed frames (yes, no mattresses), one table, and six chairs. 

Wish Us Luck in Moatize!!!

Swear-In (December 3rd 2010)

Today, is the official END of pre service training!!  I’m sitting in my empty room trying to figure out how I’m going to fit all this crap into my backpack since peace corps picked up my boxes and bags a few days ago….and right now, its not looking too good lol!  Plus, in standard Namaacha fashion, its pouring down rain.  Fabulous.  So between the rain on my tin roof and whatever is blasting on “music box” (the Moz version of MTV) it feels like a relatively normal morning…

We’ve (my friends and I) taken to “planning” every minute of the day since we’ve been in PST.  And I include the air quotes for Planning because it never goes the way we plan.  Mozambicans run on what I know as island time, and they don’t really concern themselves with plans.  So when we plan, its basically just for the comfort of having a plan that we can then diverge from….Anywaysss, here’s the plan for today….

Finish typing this blog post.  Give Mama Joana her host gifts (a Louisville hat and a nice knife).  Explain to Mama Joana that this knife – unlike any of the knifes here in Moz - is very sharp and that Menina (my 4 year old sister) can NOT play with this one.  Meet Michelle, Hannah and Jenn in our neighborhood.  Walk to the bakery and each buy a loaf of bread and some bagias (fried bean curds – a local favorite street food… tastes a little like a McDonalds chicken nugget) for lunch.  Get picked up by the peace corps land rovers and delivered to a bus stop.  Take a 2 hour bus ride from Namaacha to Maputo.  Check into the (what sounds like) an incredible 5 star hotel…. its our end of training “treat” from our training staff.  Shower (with running water!!!!).  Get dressed in our new capulana dresses (tunics for the guys).  Go to the US ambassadors house for the Swear-In ceremony!!  After that, who knows…celebrate the end of training?  Celebrate our last night together?  Celebrate Michelle’s 23^rd Birthday?!?!

What really happened……

So, I made it about half way… well not even halfway… through the plan before it got inevitably messed up.  Apparently Mama Joana decided that she needed to accompany me all the way to the bus stop (as did Michelle and Hannah’s families).  So we walked all the way with our families trailing behind us, helping carry our bags.  It was pretty much a parade without throwing beads or candy.  And we picked up other volunteers (plus families) as we walked.  By the time we (our entire entourage) reached the bus stop, we were quite the spectacle.  

We finally made it to the hotel around 12-ish… And I was SO ready for that shower, Then (because, why would things go according to plan?!) our rooms weren’t ready.  So there were 70 Americans with our huge bags suck in the lobby of this hotel.  We waited and waited…  at which point I realized that I clearly wasn’t going to get to wash my hair.  Then, we did what any reasonable PC people would do, and took over the women’s bathroom on the first floor.  People were shaving their legs and trying to tame (dirty) hair.  It was a scene, but we managed to pull it together and made it to swear in – which was a lovely ceremony…. followed by an excessive amount of finger food…..

Pictures!

thanksgiving feast!

10th grade model school class

Escola Secondaria de Namaacha... don't be fooled. Not many schools in Moz are this nice....

Thanksgiving, African Edition

First major holiday in Africa, Check.

Last Thursday, the PCTs of Namaacha celebrated a makeshift super-american holiday as best we could.  I’ll be totally honest, when we decided to do a 70-person potluck, I wasn’t sure how well that was going to go. But I have to say, it went amazingly well.

We started off the day as normal with model school. Since our classes were winding down, we had a review day (aka an intense game of jeopardy) and exams.  Helen, Emily and I taught all 4 classes together, and it was by far all of our favorite day of teaching so far. The kids were super into it, we had candy, it was all good. Then after lunch we all set off to make our dishes. After a failed attempt to make fruit salad ( I know what you’re thinking, how can you fail at fruit salad….well … the answer is that its raining and only the women selling bananas are brave enough to stay at the market. So unless you want banana salad….the fruit salad was a fail) we settled on “pasta salad.” Basically, pasta and vegetables…which was surprisingly good.

We also had something called a “turkey team.” Now, I was not a part of this team because, well, I just don’t like turkey enough to be on a team for it. Ha! Barbara – a volunteer in our training class who as taken on the role of loving grandma-figure  (she’s 71 and I have mad respect for her being here) bought us 4 turkeys. And when I say she bought turkeys, I mean live turkeys.  Then, with the help of some local teachers… some of the guys killed the turkeys, dressed them, and cooked them in a local bakery. It was a solid 2-day long event.

Did you know that when you kill a turkey, you need to give it red wine first? True story. I have heard multiple reasons. 1. That it makes the meat tender (source: fellow PCT) 2. That the blood will turn to vinager if you don’t (source: local chem. Teacher) 3. That if you don’t it could kill you. Turkeys are viscous and can kill small children (source: mama joana…this was complete with wild flapping of her arms to demonstrate)

So we had our feast and ate until we were uncomfortably full. At which point, we ate a little more. It’s pretty much a rule on thanksgiving, right? There was stuffing and green beans and salad and peanut butter cookies and apple crisp and turkey and gravy and lots of mashed potatoes. It was awesommeeeee