One Year

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!

Thanks to all my amazingggg family and friends for being such rock stars the past year.  Your love and support keep me strong.  Love and miss you all.

Professional Schools week

fashion show

carpentry workshop

welding

auto mechanics

civil construction

the river in Moatize

students jumping off rocks

Zoeller fam plus DomBosco students

Safari Pics!

 

Professional School Week

A few weeks ago, Mozambique celebrated “Professional School Week” – although I’m pretty sure 95% of the country was unaware. I, a teacher at a professional school, was not even made aware of it until Monday. As in, “Happy Monday! Its professional school week!” Ok. Cool. Sounds fun.

Monday, the direction of the school cancelled the last 4 classes of the day to clean.  Luckily, I have some friends in the workshops and I convinced them that giving class was more important than having my kids sweep the dirt outside their room. Plus, their morning “moral development” class wasn’t happening. Why? Oh just because the Padre that gives that class had something more important to do. Ya know, like buy cookies. Typical. (Side note: one of the most frustrating things I’ve encountered in the school system here is the general lack of forethought and planning. Like. If you’re going to cancel 4 afternoon classes, why don’t you at least effectively occupy the first four periods. And if this Padre neverrrrr shows up to give class – which he doesn’t – why not schedule something else for that hour and a half those kids are just sitting in an empty room?!) Moral of the story. I had my kids clean during their ‘empty’ class time and kept my afternoon English class.  And since everyone else was cleaning, no one reprimanded us for being superrrr loud playing a review game.

Tuesday was the big day – a visit from the government. Wahooo! Ha! Basically, we started the day by picking out the kids who didn’t look up to par and sending them home. Seriously. One by one, we went threw the students to make sure everyone was in perfect uniform. Gotta impress the visitor. Then, we all crammed in the big multi-purpose room where the fashion girls were being showcased as our chosen professional.  Two kids DJ’ed – which is always a hit. Then, a group of kids did the entire MJ thriller dance – which was AWESOME! They had costumes and make-up and everything. Then, the girls put on an awesome fashion show with all the clothes they’ve made this year. They were rock stars! There are so few girls at our school, so it was really awesome that they got to do this.  It was a HUGE confidence boost and overall, very impressive. Finally, our visitors got toured through all of the workshops where students explained different machines and projects they’re working on. Somehow, I ended up being the school photographer for the day… aka I just followed around the group of “chefes” and snapped photos (eventually, someone in the group of like 8 men was like ‘who is this white girl following us around?!’ … ‘no worries, she’s our English teacher’ HA)

A snowballs chance in Tete

The “time of heat” has officially arrived here in Tete – which I’ve been completely dreading.  And let me tell you, this was no slow transition. Seriously, it probably went from “cool-ish” to “oh my god I’m going to die” hot  in about a week.  Fans are on full blast, heating bath water is a thing of the past, and windows are flung wide open…..except for those in the dining room and kitchen…. Someone is too concerned with dust getting in to enjoy a breeze, cough cough Eduardo.

All this heat means that mango season is right around the corner (!!!!!) and that ‘crazy thirst’ is too. Let me explain what “crazy thirst” is: its pretty simple. When you’re walking all the way back to our house or standing at the chapa stop in Matema (aka the hottest place on earth) crazy thirst hits you like a ton of bricks.  You realize how unbelievable thirsty you are, how there is nothing available to drink, how you are sweating profusely…and it consumes your mind.  It is something I NEVER felt in the states. If you’re that hot, you go in some air-conditioning or you get a glass of ice water. NADA. That’s not an option here. 

What is an option, is a can of cold Orange Fanta. Cue, what we like to call “the lesson that will never be learned.”  Here’s what happens : you’re withering in the sun at the chapa stop – praying one will stop and you can squeeze on.  Crazy thirst hits you, and its bad. You’re about 10 feet away from a number of crianças (children) peddling cans of cold Fanta. And you just can’t resist. So you flip the shoe-less 8 year old 25 mets and pop open the Fanta. At this point, it goes down in less than three gulps – and it’s AMAZING.  You feel satisfied for about 5 minutes. And then, you get hit with a second wave crazy thirst – but this time, it HAS to be water.  And that, is the lesson that will never be learned. You always drink the Fanta – and it always makes you even more thirsty that before.

Maybe you’re thinking that there has to be a solution to this problem (…. Mom).  So you suggest taking a bottle of water with you in the morning.  This will not work…. The water will be at a quasi-boil by the time you need it. Maybe you could buy some water instead of Fanta at the chapa stop? Well yes, people are there selling chilled water.  The water that they’re selling, however, is not treated….. we boil and filter all of our drinking water at home…. And this water is not.  And I’m not really in the mood for parasites, so that’s out of the question. 

I think my new method this season, will be to buy a bottle of cold water at one of the bancas close to our school. Then just carry it with me on my way home. That way, when crazy thirst hits – I’m prepared!

Back to school

My family left Moz on a Thursday, and Dom Bosco started classes again the next Monday.  Granted, I’d seen a lot of my students during our five week break – especially when my family was there – but it was SO awesome to see everyone. I don’t know if it was that we were all excited to see each other (and by we, I mean me and the students), but I’m marking that week down as my best week ever teaching. It was like a little (non creepy) second-honeymoon every time I walked into a classroom! My lesson plans worked out perfectly, there was no fighting or bickering, they seemed to be listening and understanding…. Bottom line, two big thumbs up for the first week back.

Also, Helen and I started giving English lessons to Padre Pedro (the director/principal of our school).  I wrongly assumed he didn’t speak much English, but it turns out he does! He just has a really thick Spanish accent.  So basically, one of us sits down with him for thirty minutes a day to have a conversation in English and read some of a book.  At first it was Lord of the Rings – but recently its been parts of a Catholic mass. Apparently he’s going to start giving mass in English pretty soon and he’s not entirely comfortable with it yet. So, unlike Lord of the Rings (which I never read) I’ve heard this a million times. Ha!