An entry by my buddy Jeff, who was my first visitor in Mozambique. We traveled for two weeks and had a blast experiencing Moz and Swaziland. I asked him to give a third-party perspective of the experience, especially since he had been through Peace Corps. Hope you enjoy!
"After 46 hours of traveling I finally arrived in Mozambique. The trip there was EXHAUSTING - and at one of my FOUR layovers - I swore to never travel again - but as soon as I landed in Maputo - the adrenaline kicked in and I was totally fine and with almost zero jet lag.
Since I was recently a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ukraine, I can easily say that Zachery has been in Mozambique long enough to feel settled and I know he will be there until the end of his 2 years. His language skills are very good and he can totally take care of things. And he is clearly very happy with his life there. He has a large group of friends and support network and has done a great job of adjusting to his new environment.
The capital, Maputo, has a very interesting feeling and is totally different than the rest of Mozambique. It feels very Spanish / Latin in culture - and yet African at the same time. It looks a lot like the photos I have seen of Cuba. There are some older cars - but most of them are modern small European cars. The official language is Portuguese so I was able to read most of the signs and understand them...even with my poor Spanish. The streets are in terrible shape as are the sidewalks with potholes and dirt and garbage all over the place. It is not clean and yet I didn’t feel as a dirty as I did when I was in Delhi or Kathmandu. And there are lots of abandoned buildings all over the place. There are very few white faces on the streets and they are typically either tourists (very few) or mostly aid workers. The EU sends more money there than almost any other country as Mozambique is one of the poorest countries in Africa.
Throughout Mozambique I saw LOTS of Unicef, World Vision, Save the Children, etc. vans and met quite a few people who work for these organizations. You can pretty much assume that most any white face is with one of those organizations. They are the majority of foreigners I saw there. So when people there look at us - they do not see “rich Americans” but more - people there to help them. This makes it easier for Zachery as people don’t see him as a spy (like they did me in Ukraine) and yet - he it is much harder for him to blend in and make friends like I did in Ukraine.
The entire vacation we took only local transportation (chapas) and I have never seen so many people cram into a tiny mini bus. It was almost like clowns at a circus. People were all over each other and just when you thought they couldn’t get one more person in - they would stop and pick up 3 more people. And let’s just say - it smelled quite ripe in there. And this is their winter so I can not begin to imagine how unbearably hot and smelly they are in the summer. My hat’s off to Zachery for dealing with them on a regular basis!
After 2 days in Maputo, we took a 3 hour chapa to Xai Xai – the provincial capital near his village of Chongoene, had lunch there, and then went on to his village. We then got off the hot and dirty chapa and I looked at him and said “Oh my god – we’re in Africa!” Most of the homes in his village are mud huts. Some of them have thatch walls and tin roofs. His home has a concrete floor and electricity. Yet no running water - so the “bathroom” (read hole in the ground) and “shower” (read bucket baths) are actually quite comfortable and clean. Since it is now winter (highs around 85 and lows around 55) it's comfortable taking a shower - later in the day. He is doing well health wise – yet has lost weight. We had numerous talks about ways for him to gain weight and I think it’s safe to say he will be more focused on this being a priority. I was 100% healthy the entire time I was there. His food options are incredibly limited. He has an empregada (maid) who cooks most of his food, cleans his house 3 days a week, takes care of his dog and cats, goes grocery shopping for him, and does ALL of his laundry. He pays her $20 a month. She is very sweet and she clearly is very attached to Zachery.
Everywhere we went - people smiled on the streets and said hello to each other. There is a warmth and sincerity in total strangers. I was not constantly in fear of my knapsack being stolen. Or his house being broken in. Or someone mugging us on the street. There is not the constant oppressive feeling I felt daily in Ukraine. Mozambique has one of the highest rates of HIV/AIDS and yet I didn’t really feel it. The only way I noticed is that you don’t see many people older than 40. Every once in a while you will see a woman dressed all in black who is in mourning. It is actually quite a beautiful country and I felt totally safe. He has beautiful places to go on "vacation". My life in Ukraine felt very familiar and similar to my life in the US - only on a different continent. His life is totally different than anything anyone would ever live in the US. And that is both exciting and exhausting.
We then spent a few days further north than his village. Spent one day with his friend Akisha in Inhambane and then we went to Bara Lodge. Bara is along the beach and is gorgeous. It’s a resort area and incredibly beautiful, relaxing, great food, and was a perfect two days. We shared a small room (bunk beds) with one of his Peace Corps friends - Anne. The bathroom was in the next building over. It was very comfortable - minus the TONS of mosquitoes at night. (Luckily we had mosquito nets to sleep under). My only complaint is that most of the other people there were tourists from South Africa. Rich, white, South Africans. I developed an incredible dislike for them. Zach started these feelings within me - but many of the people I met there reinforced these feelings. We saw almost no other tourist there except whites from South Africa. They were incredibly obnoxious every time they spoke with someone on staff there. Racism is alive and well.
After two days of relaxing we had to leave. And it took us EIGHT hours on various chapas to get back to his village of Chongoene. At one point we were trying to transfer at a bus station. We literally were on 5 different chapas at this one station! The first one tried to leave and they couldn’t get it started. The next one decided it didn’t want to take us all where we wanted to go. I lost track of what all the issues where - but all I remember is that we kept taking our bags and transferring to another chapa. We both had nothing to eat and minimal to drink as we didn’t want to have to go to the bathroom as they don’t make bathroom breaks. Finally around 4:00 pm we bought some cookies / crackers and ate them. By the time we arrived back to his village it was dark. We were hot, tired, dehydrated, dirty, and walked in the pitch dark the 2 miles back to his home. His empregada had dinner waiting for us. It was a mush of beans, fresh coconut milk, and a root vegetable. It was actually quite tasty but not terribly filling. It was too dark and cold to take showers. We played cards for a little bit and then it started to rain. And then pour. And since he has a tin roof - it sounds like the house if being shot at by gun fire. It was an amazing sound. And then the power went out. About 15 minutes later, at 10:15 pm we realized that it was probably time to call it a day. I decided to go to the outhouse one last time before I went to sleep. I was greeted by a frog sitting right by the hole in the ground. I squatted, did my business and went back in the house. I looked at Zachery and said “This was a LONG hard day. I don’t know how you do it. I am not sure I could do this. And this was the best day of our trip - I had so much fun.”
Zachery and I then took various chapas to Swaziland. Everyone told us it would be 3-4 hours MAX. So - we left at 9:00 a.m. figuring we would get there in time for lunch.
I was amazed at how different Swaziland is from Mozambique. It's cleaner, richer, and the people are even friendlier. And the food was terrific. Everyone speaks English in Swaziland which makes it a lot easier than Mozambique where Portuguese is the official language. And Swazi also has the highest rate of HIV / AIDS in the world - at 26-40% (depending on what statistic you use!) There were billboards everywhere and it's clear that AIDS has had it’s impact on the country.
We learned, when someone told us the length of a chapa ride - we needed to double the estimate. Well - we were wrong - it took us EIGHT and a half hours to get to our destination on 4 different chapas and one taxi. We got used to being able to go all day without eating lunch - and minimal bathroom breaks. About 5 hours into this journey, I was hot, tired, hungry, and getting crabby. There was this 8 month old baby in the seat ahead of mine who eyes were transfixed on me. I found myself having this conversation in my head with his baby. I came to the realization that who am I to complain?! Thank god I am lucky to be healthy enough to be able to travel. Thank god I am lucky to be able to even afford this trip. This poor child will have a life of hell. He will be lucky if he lives past 40. He will probably not get past a 4th grade education, or ever even leave his country. He is sitting on this hot, uncomfortable bus and seems to be perfectly content. Who am I to complain? And for the rest of the ride and every other chapa I was on - I was totally fine. I think I just needed to put it all into perspective.
We finally arrived - at one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been – Phonphonyne Lodge. It is nestled in the middle of the mountains and is gorgeous. They only have rooms available for about 20 guests. And there is nothing to do there but hike, relax, eat, sleep, and read. It was much colder (down to 54 degrees inside our tent one night) and had amazing views. The main building is this beautifully decorated lodge - with Andrea Bocelli blaring on their stereo.
Two days later we took a 5 hours chapa to our next stop. Also a resort type place (Malendela’s) which had LOTS of people - especially tourist. We read, relaxed and went white water rafting.
After 2 days there – we took a 6 hour chapa back to Maputo. Zachery recently met the Dutch Ambassador, and he offered for us to stay as his residence since he has 6 bedrooms. So we took him up his offer and stayed there our last 2 nights. Our last morning there, the Ambassador had left for work by the time we woke up. Zachery and I were watching TV and one of Ambassador’s maids walked in and asked if we were ready to be served our breakfast. We both looked at each other and smiled. We walked into the dining room with a beautifully set table. It was one of the most elegant breakfasts I have ever been served! We both laughed and I asked him if really is in the Peace Corps?!
I consider myself to be a quite well traveled – as I have now been to 44 countries. This was one of the physically hardest trips I have ever taken. Everything from the long plane rides there, and the hot and dirty chapas, to the limited food options and physical energy needed to make it through the days. It was a true pleasure and honor to spend time with Zachery. We traveled extremely well together and there was never a second of tension between us. He is a remarkable person - and ever more special is that he is 25 years old. He is a very mature old soul - who yet also has the playfulness of a 25 year old. Many people in Mozambique asked me if I was his father...... .oh well - I guess I may be middle aged - but I sure don't feel it!"
Jeffrey Janis
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I've been a bad blogger....
It’s been quite some time since I have posted an update to the blog and informed the general public of my well-being. I was asked to write a bi-weekly column for GayWired.com about my travels and experiences and for a while that was a good substitute outlet for my thoughts, frustrations and failed attempts at humor. But like a man with two cross mistresses, I am able to hop between them when one becomes too much to handle. However, if interested, you can search for past articles I have written by going to GayWired.com and just typing my name in the search.
Much has been going on since my last update. I have experienced both a Mozambican and American Independence Day. I survived a Mozambican Cultural Festival that was true to its name. I also got my diver’s certification so that I can finally enjoy the Mozambican coast that is famous for their underwater sights.
Mozambican Independence Day came and went without too much fanfare. I decided to invite Melissa over and we cooked, played cards, watched The Office on her computer and walked around the community. The weekend of July 4th, however, turned out to be a much more festive occasion. Melissa and I went with our Maputo development friends to Tofo Beach in Inhambane Province about 3.5 hours north of me. We were saying goodbye to the Emily, a visiting cousin of a member of the group, and to Russell, a Rocking Aussie who was in country working with the Clinton Foundation and was returning to the States. We stayed at a hostile on the beach (Fatima’s), played cards, drank a little beer, watched the sun rise on the water and set against the dunes and generally relaxed in the sand. Games of Bocci and horseback riding were enjoyed and overall everyone left feeling much closer and more relaxed than when we had started. Although, despite the occasion that brought us together, I doubt any of us felt more patriotic…
The following weekdn Xai Xai held the annual Mozambican Cultural Festival and decided to alert the public about a week in advance. With a late start and a rushed promotion, the festival was already living up to its name. However the music, dancing, theatre, food and exhibitions were impressive and worthy of a festival representing so many diverse people of one “culture”. I stayed with David, a 2nd year volunteer buddy, and a group of us went to the Gastronomia where we were able to buy food that were specialties in each of the 11 Provinces. The Chicken Zambeziana made with lime and coconut was nice, as was the okra dish made with shrimp and coconut milk. However, I went a little wild when I got to the crafts exhibition from artists around the country. It was so refreshing to see not just the variety of materials used in crafts from various parts of Moz, but also that art was being celebrated at all! Mozambique is just finally coming around to recognizing, resuscitating and honing traditional crafts and marketing them to the public. I bought a painting from Niassa Province, a hanging woven cloth from Manica Province, a Botik from Maputo Province and put in a request for a traditional bed/sofa made by the wife of the Gaza Governor. I walked out feeling better than if I had maxxed out my credit card at a sale in Bloomingdale’s. The bareness of my walls at home were starting to grate on me.
During the festival, I also got the chance to meet Matt, a family friend of another volunteer, Megan. He was visiting Mozambique for over a week before his trip to Tanzania where he planned to climb Mount Kilamanjaro. He had come out to his family about a year and a half ago, and it was nice to be in the presence of and to laugh with another gay guy. When I heard that Matt was in town to sample some of the amazing diving that Moz is known for, I couldn’t resist going up to Barra Beach and getting scuba certified with Megan, our friend Anne, and her friend Emily. While Matt went on the more “adventurous” dives at 25 meters, the four of us hopped between classes in the pool and dives at about 11 meters to test our newly learned underwater skills. Our Swedish instructor, Nick, and his Swedish apprentice were amazing. We soon found ourselves exchanging information and wanting to keep up with everyone at the dive center. It was great to get certified as a group and we didn’t stop cracking ourselves up the whole time. Starting in September, I want to head back to swim with the whale sharks and manta rays. Hopefully this will turn into an interesting and promising hobby; and at roughly $40 per dive, it is a relatively manageable one.
However, after days of diving, laughing and enjoying the friendship of each other, it was time to return to reality and head back to site and our organizations. Megan and I were lucky to hitch hike back to Xai Xai in a comfortable car driven by a man working for the Highways Administration. After getting food for the animals and checking my mail, I jumped on the first chapa back to site, where I was seated next to a schizophrenic man speaking on his invisible cell phone as he ate a wooden stick he found. I paid for his chapa ride, went home to play with Chissy and realized how much I love this country.
ZS
Much has been going on since my last update. I have experienced both a Mozambican and American Independence Day. I survived a Mozambican Cultural Festival that was true to its name. I also got my diver’s certification so that I can finally enjoy the Mozambican coast that is famous for their underwater sights.
Mozambican Independence Day came and went without too much fanfare. I decided to invite Melissa over and we cooked, played cards, watched The Office on her computer and walked around the community. The weekend of July 4th, however, turned out to be a much more festive occasion. Melissa and I went with our Maputo development friends to Tofo Beach in Inhambane Province about 3.5 hours north of me. We were saying goodbye to the Emily, a visiting cousin of a member of the group, and to Russell, a Rocking Aussie who was in country working with the Clinton Foundation and was returning to the States. We stayed at a hostile on the beach (Fatima’s), played cards, drank a little beer, watched the sun rise on the water and set against the dunes and generally relaxed in the sand. Games of Bocci and horseback riding were enjoyed and overall everyone left feeling much closer and more relaxed than when we had started. Although, despite the occasion that brought us together, I doubt any of us felt more patriotic…
The following weekdn Xai Xai held the annual Mozambican Cultural Festival and decided to alert the public about a week in advance. With a late start and a rushed promotion, the festival was already living up to its name. However the music, dancing, theatre, food and exhibitions were impressive and worthy of a festival representing so many diverse people of one “culture”. I stayed with David, a 2nd year volunteer buddy, and a group of us went to the Gastronomia where we were able to buy food that were specialties in each of the 11 Provinces. The Chicken Zambeziana made with lime and coconut was nice, as was the okra dish made with shrimp and coconut milk. However, I went a little wild when I got to the crafts exhibition from artists around the country. It was so refreshing to see not just the variety of materials used in crafts from various parts of Moz, but also that art was being celebrated at all! Mozambique is just finally coming around to recognizing, resuscitating and honing traditional crafts and marketing them to the public. I bought a painting from Niassa Province, a hanging woven cloth from Manica Province, a Botik from Maputo Province and put in a request for a traditional bed/sofa made by the wife of the Gaza Governor. I walked out feeling better than if I had maxxed out my credit card at a sale in Bloomingdale’s. The bareness of my walls at home were starting to grate on me.
During the festival, I also got the chance to meet Matt, a family friend of another volunteer, Megan. He was visiting Mozambique for over a week before his trip to Tanzania where he planned to climb Mount Kilamanjaro. He had come out to his family about a year and a half ago, and it was nice to be in the presence of and to laugh with another gay guy. When I heard that Matt was in town to sample some of the amazing diving that Moz is known for, I couldn’t resist going up to Barra Beach and getting scuba certified with Megan, our friend Anne, and her friend Emily. While Matt went on the more “adventurous” dives at 25 meters, the four of us hopped between classes in the pool and dives at about 11 meters to test our newly learned underwater skills. Our Swedish instructor, Nick, and his Swedish apprentice were amazing. We soon found ourselves exchanging information and wanting to keep up with everyone at the dive center. It was great to get certified as a group and we didn’t stop cracking ourselves up the whole time. Starting in September, I want to head back to swim with the whale sharks and manta rays. Hopefully this will turn into an interesting and promising hobby; and at roughly $40 per dive, it is a relatively manageable one.
However, after days of diving, laughing and enjoying the friendship of each other, it was time to return to reality and head back to site and our organizations. Megan and I were lucky to hitch hike back to Xai Xai in a comfortable car driven by a man working for the Highways Administration. After getting food for the animals and checking my mail, I jumped on the first chapa back to site, where I was seated next to a schizophrenic man speaking on his invisible cell phone as he ate a wooden stick he found. I paid for his chapa ride, went home to play with Chissy and realized how much I love this country.
ZS
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Pictures...Finally!
Sorry for the radio silence lately. Here is a link to pictures from the Youth Conference (JOMA) in Chimoio and of a get-together at the beach with some international aid workers (many of whom are former PC volunteers!). Meeting them was not only a great way to relax, but also bolstered my desire to do overseas work. Enjoy the pictures!
http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=89461210078245793/l=373198598/g=35776459/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=89461210078245793/l=373198598/g=35776459/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
There is a God...
After months of arguing with TDM and waiting (there is a lot of waiting in Peace Corps, I'm learning), this week we finally set my office up with internet. Internet!!! Can't you believe it? We start classes next week on what the internet is and how we can use it as a tool for our daily lives. I figure by the end of our tutorial I will have everyone with a MySpace page, a Facebook page, and addicted to YouTube.
Nah, this is actually a big step forward for them. Not only can we apply for grants online, but we can research information on health and agriculture and hopefully open their minds to the wealth of information that is in the world. Everyone is excited, although most aren't sure exactly what they are excited about. They just know that the cities have Internet and now we do too. Pretty swanky, huh?
I was kinda giving myself a little grief this week about how this will make my experience less "Peace Corps" but the more I thought about it, the more I realized something. While the overall principles of President Kennedy's Peace Corps have remained the same, the tools we use to accomplish those goals have evolved. Nothing wrong with that, it's just life. I mean, we all do our jobs differently then they would have been done 20 years ago. Hell, some of us are doing jobs that didn't even exist 20 years ago!
I have to go now though. I checked my e-mail about 12 times, but I want to check one more time...just in case.
LU,
Z
Nah, this is actually a big step forward for them. Not only can we apply for grants online, but we can research information on health and agriculture and hopefully open their minds to the wealth of information that is in the world. Everyone is excited, although most aren't sure exactly what they are excited about. They just know that the cities have Internet and now we do too. Pretty swanky, huh?
I was kinda giving myself a little grief this week about how this will make my experience less "Peace Corps" but the more I thought about it, the more I realized something. While the overall principles of President Kennedy's Peace Corps have remained the same, the tools we use to accomplish those goals have evolved. Nothing wrong with that, it's just life. I mean, we all do our jobs differently then they would have been done 20 years ago. Hell, some of us are doing jobs that didn't even exist 20 years ago!
I have to go now though. I checked my e-mail about 12 times, but I want to check one more time...just in case.
LU,
Z
Friday, April 25, 2008
I'm sick...
and I’ve been sick for a week now although it is finally showing signs of slowing down. We had a major cold front come through (and boy does it get chilly here) signaling the start of winter, which led to me getting a cold. This of course led to a sore throat and general achy body, which was then followed by an infection in my nose. My upper lip and right nostril is pretty swollen and sore, but the rest of me is feeling better. Of course, that was until I got out of bed the other day and strained my lower back. GETTING OUT OF BED!!! What 24 year old strains their back, especially just getting out of bed??? My nana is 93 and plays golf every week, but I can’t get up in the morning without pulling something. There is no justice…
I used to kinda enjoy getting sick in the states. Think about it…you get to miss work and watch movies all day, you get sympathy from friends and family and people bring you soup. But here, I am confined to my cold house with nothing to do but read and sleep. I found myself huddled under my blanket, the springs from my mattress jabbing into my back, dreaming of the days when I could just run out for an Egg McMuffin, or a McGriddle, or a McSOMETHING!
While I was in bed one day, my neighbor (the owner of the house) and his wife came over to have a chat. They were concerned that I wasn’t eating properly, which is what made me sick. I assured them that I cook a variety of healthy meals and that me being sick was just a passing thing. They told me that the eggs I was eating in the morning with my various scrambles weren’t as nutritious as American eggs, so I had to eat different foods to stay healthy. Then they asked me what I had for dinner the previous night and I told them I had salad with lettuce, cabbage, tomato, boiled egg and some tuna that was sent to me. "NO NO NO," they said. "You needed to eat more rice and xima with traditional Mozambican cuisine - that’s where you’ll get your vitamins!" I tried to explain that a salad like the one I had made had sufficient nutritional value, but they were convinced otherwise. So, realizing I did not have the strength to bust out my nutritional presentation at that given moment, I relented and said I would eat more Mozambican dishes and lived to educate another day. They were happy.
One positive thing in my life is my empregada. I know, I know…I wasn’t comfortable getting a housekeeper at first, figuring that I could easily wash clothes, clean dishes and carry water. In fact, several of us in training felt that way. But we came to find out that culturally it is expected that if you have the money to hire someone, you do so. There are such few jobs available, it seems greedy for you to horde money rather than pay someone to do things for you. So when I arrived to site my neighbors recommended a 15-year-old girl who was the daughter of a friend, despite my apprehensions about having someone that young. She turned out to be too afraid to talk to me so it didn’t work out. The 2nd woman they recommended was older but didn’t work out either. I won’t say why exactly, but she must have loved sweets because her fingers were very….sticky. Finally I told my neighbor’s wife, Aquima (whom I have bonded with) that I was looking for more of an older woman…a Dona, with kids, who actually needed some help and wanted the job. Turns out she knew of a woman who lives right behind them who has 3 kids and needs a job to support the family. She is a delightful woman, a hard worker and a great new addition to my life here. We sit and chat about life in Mozambique and she is starting to tell me more and more about herself. She moved to the village because of her husband, but is disappointed on how few jobs are available. She and the kids rarely see the money that her husband brings in from Xai Xai so I am trying to make sure that what money she makes from me stays with her and the kids. I can trust her to feed the pets if I am away and she has even started cooking some traditional Mozambican dishes with me. When we cook, she takes half the food for her and her family, since I really only need two nights worth of leftovers. For a beginning, we are meshing quite nicely.
I used to kinda enjoy getting sick in the states. Think about it…you get to miss work and watch movies all day, you get sympathy from friends and family and people bring you soup. But here, I am confined to my cold house with nothing to do but read and sleep. I found myself huddled under my blanket, the springs from my mattress jabbing into my back, dreaming of the days when I could just run out for an Egg McMuffin, or a McGriddle, or a McSOMETHING!
While I was in bed one day, my neighbor (the owner of the house) and his wife came over to have a chat. They were concerned that I wasn’t eating properly, which is what made me sick. I assured them that I cook a variety of healthy meals and that me being sick was just a passing thing. They told me that the eggs I was eating in the morning with my various scrambles weren’t as nutritious as American eggs, so I had to eat different foods to stay healthy. Then they asked me what I had for dinner the previous night and I told them I had salad with lettuce, cabbage, tomato, boiled egg and some tuna that was sent to me. "NO NO NO," they said. "You needed to eat more rice and xima with traditional Mozambican cuisine - that’s where you’ll get your vitamins!" I tried to explain that a salad like the one I had made had sufficient nutritional value, but they were convinced otherwise. So, realizing I did not have the strength to bust out my nutritional presentation at that given moment, I relented and said I would eat more Mozambican dishes and lived to educate another day. They were happy.
One positive thing in my life is my empregada. I know, I know…I wasn’t comfortable getting a housekeeper at first, figuring that I could easily wash clothes, clean dishes and carry water. In fact, several of us in training felt that way. But we came to find out that culturally it is expected that if you have the money to hire someone, you do so. There are such few jobs available, it seems greedy for you to horde money rather than pay someone to do things for you. So when I arrived to site my neighbors recommended a 15-year-old girl who was the daughter of a friend, despite my apprehensions about having someone that young. She turned out to be too afraid to talk to me so it didn’t work out. The 2nd woman they recommended was older but didn’t work out either. I won’t say why exactly, but she must have loved sweets because her fingers were very….sticky. Finally I told my neighbor’s wife, Aquima (whom I have bonded with) that I was looking for more of an older woman…a Dona, with kids, who actually needed some help and wanted the job. Turns out she knew of a woman who lives right behind them who has 3 kids and needs a job to support the family. She is a delightful woman, a hard worker and a great new addition to my life here. We sit and chat about life in Mozambique and she is starting to tell me more and more about herself. She moved to the village because of her husband, but is disappointed on how few jobs are available. She and the kids rarely see the money that her husband brings in from Xai Xai so I am trying to make sure that what money she makes from me stays with her and the kids. I can trust her to feed the pets if I am away and she has even started cooking some traditional Mozambican dishes with me. When we cook, she takes half the food for her and her family, since I really only need two nights worth of leftovers. For a beginning, we are meshing quite nicely.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Guy Stuff And My New SPCA....
Last Saturday I arrived home from a 16-hour bus ride from the city of Chimoio in the north (of me) where I was attending a weeklong, all-male conference (JOMA) on communication with two of my theatre group students and a professor. They were learning better theatre techniques, while also discussing healthy masculinity, leadership and community change. I was lucky enough to manage a daily reflection group of students to discuss various topics, problems and feelings encountered at the conference and was really blown away by these kids. Hearing their stories was heartbreaking, but then listening to their perspective on everything and their desire to breakout of this hand that life had dealt them was inspiring. One kid in a group came out as being HIV positive which, given the stigma, is HUGE to do amongst your peers and especially so as a teenager. These kids talked about the problems in their families and communities but not once did anyone mention leaving Mozambique. The common theme was working hard in school and building their communities from within. As a person who fled his conservative home state for the liberal comforts of California, I have to say I was a bit emboldened by their courage and dedication. It gave me that 2nd wind (or 3rd…I forget which one I’m on now) and made me realize that this country will continue to change dramatically as soon as time passes and this new generation has time to show us what they can do.
Anyways, after my 16-hour bus ride, I arrive home to find that my neighbor has recently acquired a puppy…Leon. Chissy was curious about the new addition and was generally open to the idea till the little bugger jump up between her legs and bit her right in the vagina. Scared that damn girl so bad she leapt in the air and ran 20 feet. That unfortunate incident aside, the two seem to be playing well together. Leon is a fighter and a little too big for his britches, but Chissy is establishing the obvious…that she is the bigger dog.
Two dogs and four cats later, I have yet to get a damn animal that produces food rather than just consumes it.
ZS
Anyways, after my 16-hour bus ride, I arrive home to find that my neighbor has recently acquired a puppy…Leon. Chissy was curious about the new addition and was generally open to the idea till the little bugger jump up between her legs and bit her right in the vagina. Scared that damn girl so bad she leapt in the air and ran 20 feet. That unfortunate incident aside, the two seem to be playing well together. Leon is a fighter and a little too big for his britches, but Chissy is establishing the obvious…that she is the bigger dog.
Two dogs and four cats later, I have yet to get a damn animal that produces food rather than just consumes it.
ZS
My growing sense of humor…
Some of you know that I went through a rough patch for about 4 weeks between February and March where I was pretty frustrated with things in my life and lonely for the people not in my life. Thankfully, with the help of other volunteers, a little yoga and a LOT of reflection I worked through it and am in a much better headspace now. However as a result, I learned that I have to sit back and seek humor in the situations in which I find myself; looking for little equations of reality that equal out to a pretty funny moment.
Like when your chapa blows a tire at 70 kilometers an hour, propelling you into oncoming traffic and veering away just as an 18-wheeler roars past. And then when the cobrador (money collector) opens the door to check on the damage, the entire door falls off onto the ground. Funny, right? Like something you’d see in a National Lampoon movie.
Or when the local children all shout “Mulungo! (white-person)” whenever they see you coming even before they have learned words like “mai” and “pai”.
Or when you set a meeting for 1pm and people start to trickle in at 2:30.
Or when your barber asks you why the hair on your back is not on your head?
But my favorite chuckle always comes from the music videos produced in Mozambique. These are classic and oddly fascinating. You can see them in barracas or sometimes in a really tricked-out chapa where the owner has made the wise decision to invest a portion of his limited profits into installing a TV and DVD player. This of course enables him to watch these music videos while swerving to miss potholes and driving at a safe 65 miles an hour down the EN1. Anyways, I notice that there is such a dichotomy between what the Mozambicans want to mimic in surrounding cultures and the limited available talent and resources to do so. Like trying to pimp-out your mother’s station wagon in high school, or trying to make an American flag out of red, orange and green pieces of cloth. Difficult, right? Mostly these videos are people standing in a field or on a farm with animals in the background, and swaying back and forth while the camera zooms in and out in the attempt to make it look like there is some action and excitement going on. The sound editing is pretty bad with people mouthing words that just aren’t quite there yet. The choreography is relatively basic with the idea that as long as you put at least 2 girls showing their stomachs and shaking their hips people will watch. However, my favorite move thus far has been the “slow-motion-jump-from-rock.” Sort of like what you would see in the music videos of the 1980’s where a performer would leap into the air from a structure in slow motion at a critical point in the song. Alas, in this particular video the director apparently forgot to explain to the performer the concept and simply said, “Just jump off the rock.” The result is a middle-aged man slumping off a rock like you would step off a stool in your kitchen….only now it’s in slow motion.
This isn’t meant to laugh AT this facet of Mozambican culture, as there are MANY examples at which my Mozambican friends can (and do) laugh at ours (like the idea that you would ever kiss a dog or let it lick your face…that can kill you, you know?). But finding humor in everyday life is helpful in getting past moments that would normally derive stress and frustration. In other words, it keeps this Mulungo sane.
ZS
Like when your chapa blows a tire at 70 kilometers an hour, propelling you into oncoming traffic and veering away just as an 18-wheeler roars past. And then when the cobrador (money collector) opens the door to check on the damage, the entire door falls off onto the ground. Funny, right? Like something you’d see in a National Lampoon movie.
Or when the local children all shout “Mulungo! (white-person)” whenever they see you coming even before they have learned words like “mai” and “pai”.
Or when you set a meeting for 1pm and people start to trickle in at 2:30.
Or when your barber asks you why the hair on your back is not on your head?
But my favorite chuckle always comes from the music videos produced in Mozambique. These are classic and oddly fascinating. You can see them in barracas or sometimes in a really tricked-out chapa where the owner has made the wise decision to invest a portion of his limited profits into installing a TV and DVD player. This of course enables him to watch these music videos while swerving to miss potholes and driving at a safe 65 miles an hour down the EN1. Anyways, I notice that there is such a dichotomy between what the Mozambicans want to mimic in surrounding cultures and the limited available talent and resources to do so. Like trying to pimp-out your mother’s station wagon in high school, or trying to make an American flag out of red, orange and green pieces of cloth. Difficult, right? Mostly these videos are people standing in a field or on a farm with animals in the background, and swaying back and forth while the camera zooms in and out in the attempt to make it look like there is some action and excitement going on. The sound editing is pretty bad with people mouthing words that just aren’t quite there yet. The choreography is relatively basic with the idea that as long as you put at least 2 girls showing their stomachs and shaking their hips people will watch. However, my favorite move thus far has been the “slow-motion-jump-from-rock.” Sort of like what you would see in the music videos of the 1980’s where a performer would leap into the air from a structure in slow motion at a critical point in the song. Alas, in this particular video the director apparently forgot to explain to the performer the concept and simply said, “Just jump off the rock.” The result is a middle-aged man slumping off a rock like you would step off a stool in your kitchen….only now it’s in slow motion.
This isn’t meant to laugh AT this facet of Mozambican culture, as there are MANY examples at which my Mozambican friends can (and do) laugh at ours (like the idea that you would ever kiss a dog or let it lick your face…that can kill you, you know?). But finding humor in everyday life is helpful in getting past moments that would normally derive stress and frustration. In other words, it keeps this Mulungo sane.
ZS
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
