It's the most wonderful time of the year...

Feliz Natal! Merry Christmas! Boas Festas! Happy Holidays!

Well my first Christmas in Mocambique was a good one. I have to say it definitely didn't feel like Christmas with the heat, no lights and lack of Christmas music for the last month but it was good. I was able to travel to Gorongosa (the villa near the actual national park) where two married volunteers live on a mission.  Brian and Jordan Mills are just amazing people and really took us all in and gave us a wonderful holiday. Jordan made us all stockings which were filled with candy on Christmas morning and had a whole array of amazing food planned for the weekend. We had a cookie decorating contest (I won!), fiesta night, pancakes and a fabulous sausage pasta dinner. We were spoiled.  Christmas Day we opened out stockings and ate candy, went swimming in the river, hiked down to some falls and jumped off rock outcroppings with Mocambiquen kids and sat around cooking, eating and talking. It was definitely not you're typical Christmas Day but this isn't exactly a typical time of my life.

Being away from my family was hard for sure but I've found a family here amongst the volunteers. We had a good mix of MOZ 14ers and 15ers (I'm in MOZ 15. MOZ 14 arrived in country last fall) and we were able to just relax together, play games, share stories and enjoy the time together. Brian and Lauren, from MOZ 12, were two of the first people we met when we got off the plane in Maputo and were with us for the first two weeks pf PST. So getting to see them again in a less bewildering situation was so good. Jordan came to training around week 5 and is one of the most memorable PCVs that visited. She is an incredible teacher with so much energy and so many ideas. Mona and I told Brian we were taking her back to Dombe with us until we got our own cooking situation under control. Other 14ers, Dov and Tim, were wonderful too because they have that year under their belts and can give realistic descriptions of service and traveling. The rest of us were 15ers ready to be away from site, with other people and missing our families. But like I said, we were in it together and had ourselves a really wonderful day. And I am so thankful for cellphone rede so that i could talk with my family! Everyone was together celebrating and hearing their voices just warmed my already sweating heart!


Oh and I've put pictures on Facebook going back to orientation for your viewing pleasure. And of course there is more to come as things progress!

Realizations

17/12/10

I have been in this country for nearly three months now and things still surprise and frustrate me.  I imagine (and hope) it continues throughout my service because stuff like this just doesn’t happen in the States. Let’s take my latest chapa ride for example. Mona and I were able to escape from Dombe Wednesday afternoon to come and restock and regroup in Chimoio. We caught a chapa to Sussendenga outside the mission with help from some neighbors and were on our way.  As we hit the first bump in the road I were this yelp like sound from beside me and thought the woman next to me had been jostled or something. It was an odd sound but people here make odd sounds.  I let it go until I heard it a few times in a row and quietly asked the guy on my other side what it might be. He very casual replied “o cabrito” (goat). Shocked, I asked “O cabrito? Onde?”. And again, as if it was completely normal, pointed and said it was just under the seat. I busted out laughing, which the woman thought was hilarious, and we all had a good laugh. So for the next three hours I was treated to the yelping and crying of a goat from under my seat. There was a chicken as well but I didn’t know that until we reached our destination.  Of course no chapa ride through the mountains is complete without a loose tire and “cuidado com elefantes” signs. But we made to Sussendenga alright and enjoyed the last leg of the trip into Chimoio on the back of an open-bed truck with our new friends and that lovely goat.

On the other side, are the frustrating moments when you just have to bite your tongue and realize that this culture is simply different than that in the U.S. Plainly stated, this country has a lot to learn about customer service and efficiency before they advance very far in this world.  I spent over two hours at the bank yesterday trying to pick up my new ATM card and withdrawal money because communication between Chimoio and Maputo branches is archaic and nobody does anything quickly. Apparently I don’t have a signature for my account in the system so everything I try to do requires authorization from Maputo by fax. Naturally the fax system was down.  I decided to change some money as well just in case that authorization didn’t come through but that was a struggle in and of its self. Everything is done in multiple forms on paper first, a single mistake requires you to start over and unless you keep the pressure on, your forms are easily forgotten and pushed aside. Getting upset really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially when you can’t actually explain your frustrations, so I smiled, stared and threatened to go to move to a different bank. They eventually just gave me my money and we went and got a beer.

Everbody Hurts

16/12/10

So I almost made it a week without a break down. Almost. Tuesday was the toughest day yet. I felt so helpless and trapped. After another restless, sweaty night in our oven, Mona and I got up and started our normal morning routine of getting water, bathing, hiding in the shade and scrounging up something to eat. Our director was still M.I.A. from his latest trip so we went to talk with the other pedagogical director, a Brazilian woman who lives at the mission.  We approached her with our concerns over moving, the rumor that the director was leaving and maybe trying to find an empregada (maid) to help us once school started. She said the director had in fact been transferred to a different school, she didn’t know when the new one was starting although Director Rui was coming back today; the maid thing was complicated because you want to find someone you can trust but that we would probably be fine on time, and the real downer, the house was not ready. She walked us down to the house and it’s definitely got a ways to go. The cement floor isn’t even poured, there are holes to be patched around the window, door and roof frames and there aren’t actually doors, screens or bars on yet. Director Rui made it seems like it was just days away from done. It’s another duplexy thing but oriented differently. I think the rooms are a bit bigger and the front window is larger. She didn’t think screens would be added but we insisted that was a requirement from Peace Corps. Gotta prove we’re not pushovers. She said it would be at least another week but I’m guessing it’s January before we move in.

On top of this we were getting texts from our APCD and security coordinator saying we could no longer travel for Christmas and that we needed to be staying at site until the 23^rd when we could go to our provincial capital to do some visa stuff. I had been planning to travel up to Tete to spend the holiday with friends there but those plans were squashed. It was looking like a depressing Christmas with just the four of us MOZ 15ers in Chimoio. Mona and I returned to our house, set up our mat under the big tree and just bitched and moaned. A few tears were shed, texts were sent out to friends in search of encouraging words and escape plans considered. We called some people to fill Peace Corps in on the situation, hoping someone could step in and put the pressure on Director Rui to get things done before he peaced out. My dad was planning to call so I warned him of the impending break so he could be prepared and standing under a mango tree outside the mission I just lost it. God bless my dad because he was patient, let me vent and did his best to encourage and support me. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be so many thousands of miles away, hearing your daughter cry about her life and know that you are completely helpless (you’re amazing Dad!). But he talked me down, got me to describe the good parts, the things that make it all worth it and even joke a bit. Meanwhile, Mona is talking with the recently returned director about the house and gets a bit of good news: he will actually be around until after the school year starts, insists the house will be done soon and is going to speak with PC to get permission for us to leave site on Friday because no one is going to be around until the new year. We felt a little better as we sweat ourselves to sleep that night.

Wednesday came and we started the usual routine but the depression returned as good ol’ Director Rui came by saying he was going to Beira until Sunday and that he would try and talk to the Peace Corps over the next couple days to get our leaving cleared. So it looked like we were stuck at site until the normal departure date anyway. In a fit of frustration and anger, we called Custodio in Maputo and just explained the situation and our issues (he was genuinely surprised by the news of the director leaving), begging to be allowed to leave for Chimoio early. We did finally get permission, packed our things and left. It was exhilarating to have a plan, some positive news. I’ll share the chapa ride soon but it was uphill from there.

Everybody Hurts – R.E.M.

Running Up That Hill

13/12/10

It’s day 6 in Dombe and we are surviving. We’re figuring out the carvão (charcoal) stove and are able to light it in about five minutes without much paper. The lack of electricity really sucks but we’re dealing with it as best as we can and know who has solar panels so we can charge our phones when it comes time. We got some big water jugs in the market and have a good system of getting water regularly from the pump down the path so we always have it when we need it. And we boil water for our filters at least twice a day to stay ahead of our thirst. Issues we’re still working on are the nasty latrine, the bugs and critters in our house and food.

First off, we are in a temporary house right now while our real one is finished. It’s half of a duplex that is better described as a cement block with a tin roof. Professors at the school basically all live on site in these rows of little houses. Our current row is three of these two person structures with us sharing half of the last one. The front has a slit of a window with a screen and a door that opens into the front sala (room). Its small, maybe 8ft by 10ft, and stuffed full of our suitcases, boxes, buckets, the two chairs the school gave us and at night, our stove, water jugs and carvão. There’s a doorway that leads into the quarto (bedroom) but no door so I rigged up a curtain with a couple capulanas, some safety pins and a bamboo reed. The back room had a window but no screen so we have to keep it closed if we leave or go to sleep making the whole house a little oven. I don’t think the new digs are much different except newer with a bigger front window, screens and we’ll each have our own. Supposedly we will be moving this week. Cross your fingers for us.

Okay back to the issues at hand. The latrine is pretty terrible and, how shall I put it, not exactly built with the female anatomy in mind. First off it’s small, so close quarters with the smell and flies. But the opening is literally a 6in by 6 in hole in the cement with these two raised spots for your feet. Their location isn’t very accurate so you end up squatting awkwardly and aiming. There’s no cover of any kind and no door so the flies are awful and it definitely smells. Makes you appreciate that lovely porcelain throne at home right? It’s our only option so we obviously use it and don’t complain but we’re hoping and praying that our director lives up to his promise to build us a new one with a door and lock.

As for bugs and critters, we’ve had more than our fair share so far. The school didn’t have the money to get the bed frames we were supposed to be provided with so our mattresses are currently on reed mats on the floor. The first night was cool and rainy so bugs weren’t really an issue but night two provided our neighbors with some lovely entertainment as we screeched and screamed for an hour or so. First was the weird flat spider I found near my bed, then the rat/mouse (who we’ve “affectionately” named Stuart), the cockroaches and the alien like creature that emerged from the wall after I missed the cockroach with my sandal. Fortunately we have a fabulous neighbor that said we can knock on his door whenever we find something big and scary. He killed the spider, helped us unsuccessfully search for Stuart and got assistance to try and smoke/burn the alien out of the wall. Quite literally, I smacked the wall, missing the cockroach, and this large blackish thing pulled itself out of the large crack in the wall. We didn’t stick around long enough to get a good look but by then a crowd had gathered and some brave souls went in to investigate while we stood outside in the dark. It was determined that it was either a bat or a scorpion but either way it couldn’t stay. Meanwhile my mom has called and she’s on the phone as two neighboring professors attempted to kill the beast with smoke and fire as we watch from the corner. They called it good after a while and we had a restless night sleep tucked into our mosquito nets. The following morning we were woken up by our director with two guys to fill in the crack with cement. So whatever was in there is now sealed in and hopefully long dead. The good that came out of that adventure was that word spread quickly to the guy in charge and we fixed the situation quickly. Good to know for future “issues”. Unfortunately now our fearless neighbors are all off on holiday and we’ve been left to fend for ourselves. Last night after another round with Stuart and mid-conversation with mom, I found a huge, hairy spider crawling along the wall in our room. I screamed and ran out the door with Mona on my tail and luckily the spider followed suit. But we couldn’t leave it to re-enter the house so we proceeded to push it along the wall with a broom, throw large pieces on cement at it and trap it injured in a hole. This morning the hole was swarming with ants feasting on its defeated body. It was a scene worthy of an audience I think. But like I said, my mom was conveniently on the phone so you can ask her for confirmation. We’re now in search of a carpenter to get some bed frames made and us off the floor. Oh and Stuart is still loose in the front room.

The third and least exciting issue is food.  We are limited by both the carvão stove and the inadequate food availability at this point and aren’t sure how to proceed.  We have lots of beans, rice and pasta and can get bread, bananas, tomatoes, onions and garlic in the market 5km up the road. We had bought Agua e Sal crackers, peanut butter and apples in Chimoio before we left but those running out and our current money situation leaves something to be desired until we can get back to the bank in Chimoio. We’re trying to be creative with our dinners (mango curry pasta, feijao and veggies, curry rice) but it’s tough. We’re always thinking of things we wish we had or are missing. We’re often hungry during the day but then we aren’t doing a whole lot that requires much energy. We have a plan though and a growing list of things to buy when we are in Chimoio before and after Christmas. Maybe we’ll be the exception to the “girls usually gain weight” rule?

But don’t get me wrong, things are rough out here in the mato, but we’re doing okay. It’s absolutely beautiful and so green. The vivid greens against the clear blue sky is impossible to describe and the scattering of mud houses amongst the trees reminds us we truly are in Africa. I’m incredibly thankful I’m not alone out here and we do have amazing phone service. We have tons of free time to fill right now and are counting down the days until Christmas but I imagine we’ll be beyond busy once school starts in January, looking back on our languid days in the shade with envy.

Running Up That Hill - Placebo

Carry On

6/12/10

So I'm in Chimoio now mid-way through our Supervisor's Conference. Chimoio is my provincial capital but also the regional capital for the Central Provinces of Manica, Sofala and Tete so all the central education volunteers are together for the next couple days. We are meeting our school directors, colleagues and/or counterparts and having sessions to get them better oriented with how we work and what can be expected. It’s pretty much all in Portuguese and incredibly exhausting. I feel like it’s week one again and everything is new. But I need to get used to that feeling because come Wednesday Mona and I are headed to Dombe and, quoting my friend Amanda, “things are about to get real”!

So as you should remember, I am opening a new site here at the Escola Secundaria de Dombe which is a Catholic mission school 2-3 hours south of Chimoio. Now in my mind mission school meant nuns, padres and some money floating down from the Catholic Church. Maybe I was being naïve, bringing in my American way of thinking. Either way I was wrong because I am headed into the mato complete with elephants, crocodiles, forests and no electricity. I was talking to Custodio, the PC guy in charge of my conference, and he was saying “oh Dombe is so beautiful, right in the forests, close to the mountains. Oh you just have everything there, it’s so beautiful. The one thing you don’t have is electricity”. The one thing? I was expecting to hear “oh but you don’t have mangos”, something innocent. But this throws a whole new wrench into the situation.  Okay I’m being dramatic; it’s not really that bad. Mona and I are going to be experts at cooking with our carvão stove and I’ll finally complete my goal of trying to live more simply. I just wish I’d had some more time to wrap my head around it. There are some positives though – we won’t be spending money on a refrigerator or electric stove, we don’t have to worry about finding fans and there won’t be an electric bill to pay every month. Custodio says that when conference time rolls around it’s us in the mato that have money to spend and the city folks are all broke. It’s the little things in life, now more than ever.

What this all means for you, my faithful followers, is that these posts may start to get pretty far apart. I still plan on writing things up as they happen I just might not be posting them very often. I found out for sure that I can get mail at the PC office here in Chimoio so that’s sweet and I’ve included that address down below. I have a few requests if you’re up for sending packages (I realize it can be expensive): movies (old and recent), books, any new music, candy (specifically skittles, starbursts, Swedish fish, sour gummies), dry foods (macaroni & cheese, couscous, seasonings, oatmeal, spices, raisins), rechargeable batteries and stickers. As much as I would love chocolate and peanut butter type things, the heat and time it takes to get here makes those items a bad idea. I guess that also rules out me getting a Chipotle burrito anytime soon but the sacrifices have to start somewhere.



Emily Rosser, PCV
Corpo da Paz/Castelo Branco Hotel
Rua Sussundenga 295
Chimoio, Moçambique


Carry On - Pat Green

The Way We Get By

4/12/10

I’m back in Maputo. Swear-In was yesterday and most people left this morning for their regional supervisor’s conference. Seven of us are staying another night here before flying out early tomorrow morning. We are actually staying at Hoya-Hoya again which is the hotel I was in during those first orientation days before Namaacha. It’s slightly surreal. Combine that with the fact that I’m an emotional wreck and you can imagine my current condition. It feels amazing to have gotten through these nine intense weeks of training and be an official Peace Corps Volunteer. I’m ready to get to Manica and be just days away from being at site but nervous to start all over again and not have anyone to show me the ropes. I’m slightly depressed after saying goodbye to so many of my friends this morning not knowing how long it will be before I will see them again. I’m completely satisfied after having two amazing meals of Thai food and a swanky night in a 5-star hotel. And I’m excited to get to look through my 2-year bag after wearing the same clothes for the past nine weeks. My stunted emotional maturity can’t quite handle all this.

But backing up a few days, we closed PST on Thursday with a hub day at the IFP in Namaacha, went out to our usual barraca for a drink and went home for our last night with our families. Throughout the week we had our boxes and big suitcases picked up, so we just had our carry-ons when we left Namaacha Friday morning. Our swearing in ceremony was held at the ambassador’s house overlooking the water in Maputo. The ambassador, our country director, a couple trainees and someone from the Ministry of Education all spoke and we were officially sworn in. We took the same oath that members of the Foreign Service, military and all government employees take so it was a slightly daunting moment. In the spirit of cultural exchange we had prepared a song and some of us learned a traditional dance and chant. Then it was a little cocktail hour so we could get pictures and talk with our language and tech trainers one last time. Peace Corps spoiled us by putting us up in the Hotel Cardoso and letting us pretend for a night that we weren’t about to head out into the unknowns of Moçambique. A few of us went out to pick up Thai and were able to relax for a bit before partying the night away in the hotel with everyone. Knowing the morning would be hard enough, we tried to focus on having fun and being together rather than moping about the impending separation. We got hot showers, comfy beds, English TV shows and an incredible breakfast buffet. Groups were heading out in shifts starting at 5am towards their regional capitals for their Supervisor’s conference but most of us were splitting up between 8:30 and 10am. Everyone was gathered in the lobby, bags packed, hugging and crying as we said goodbye to our friends before they left. I was doing okay until our cars showed up early and we were frantically saying bye so they could get back to the hotel and take others to the airport. I turned around and my friend Meagan was standing on the bottom step looking overwhelmed, I caught her eyes and we both just starting bawling. She’s headed out to the coast of Zambezia Province and is a serious chapa ride away from me in Dombe. We’ve gotten each other through a lot and it sucks to get ripped apart just when we need that support most. I’m lucky enough to be going into this with a roommate so at least I’m not completely alone.  With such a big group we have naturally formed cliques but those melted away as we sought out those people who will be the furthest away.  It’s entirely possible that I won’t see some of them until our Close-of-Service (COS) conference in the fall of 2012. The distance factor can be disheartening but it’s always possible to see people if you make the effort. I will see my closest friends even if they are in the far corners of this rather large country and a 15 hour chapa ride away!  Anyway, we were raced over to Hoya-Hoya only to learn that we probably wouldn’t be able to check in for another couple hours. Exhausted and slightly hung-over, we sat around in the dark lobby, laughed at ourselves and how ridiculous we must look and napped until we got our rooms. Eventually we made it out for another amazing meal of Thai food and ice cream. In the morning we will catch our flight up to Chamoio and meet either our counterparts or school directors at the conference. Because Mona and I are just two and a half hours south of the city we should get to our site by Wednesday. Hopefully we’ll learn a little more about our house and have an opportunity to buy a few essentials so we can actually function and eat when we get there.  Because it’s a school holiday, lots of people travel for the holidays and most of our villages will be pretty empty. I imagine the nuns at our school don’t take off so we should have at least a school community around.

I don’t know, it’s quite the transitional time around here. My emotions are running on high, my life is about to change dramatically again and I’m headed into the holiday season without my family around. Apparently one of the toughest times during service is when you have to watch that Peace Corps truck drive away leaving you at your site alone. I guess we’ll see how that goes here in a couple days…

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!

This is the first big holiday away from home. And I use the term “home” loosely because Colorado, North Carolina and Maine are all home to me. I suppose Moçambique should be on the list too but I’ll wait until I get to Dombe and my house. Anyway, it’s a bit strange to be so disconnected from the United States, especially during the holiday season. Growing up, Thanksgiving meant driving up to my Aunt Judy’s house, having a huge meal with my mom’s side of the family and then laying around watching football. It was never formal and everyone was welcome. During college in North Carolina I got two Thanksgiving feasts: Wagsgiving at the dining hall on campus and then up in Virginia with my dad’s family. I suppose in Maine it was a smaller affair with my roommate Bri but I was always with family. Everyone around me was into the festivities and understood the meaning. It’s hard to explain some of our holidays here as they have no context and my Portuguese still isn’t amazing.

But Claudia and Peace Corps came through again and gave us the afternoon off after model school to prepare a Thanksgiving feast for ourselves complete with turkeys! People are making mashed potatoes, green beans, salads, other veggies and tons of desserts. As we did on Halloween, we have the chance to create out little ‘America’ bubble and pretend for a bit that we’re not halfway around the world. And with just a week left before we swear in and are spread throughout the country, I think we all need this time together.

But sticking with traditions I’m going to share what I’m thankful for on this first Thanksgiving in Africa. I am thankful for my amazing support system of friends and family in the States that have supported me through this entire crazy process. I’m thankful for my parents who raised me to be independent and have the confidence to move to Africa to teach for two years. I’m thankful for Marv and Mary and for their constant support of both me and my parents.  I’m thankful for my brother because he’s the only other person who knows what it means to be a product of the incredible Rosser-Newman household and for Ashlee because I’m super psyched to have a sister and because she brought Emmah, Amelia and Luke into my life. I’m thankful for Kristin for putting together my book of letters and for everyone that contributed to it. It has truly saved me on some of those bad days and since the mail sucks here, I always have something to open and read each week. And on that note, I’m thankful for care packages. The first one from my mom finally got here and it was wonderful to hold that little bit of her and America in my hands. I’m also thankful for Moçambique, my host family and their generous hospitality. But right now, I think I’m most thankful for my fellow volunteers.  I am with some absolutely incredible people and I wouldn’t be able to do this without them. We are now friend/family/counselor for each other and it’s going to be even more important to have these bonds over the next several months as we spend more holidays alone and adjust to our new lives. My closest friends are going to be pretty far away which is a major downer but I’m getting to know others better now and am confident that my nearest neighbors will be there when I need something. It’s kind of crazy how quickly we all bonded but this isn’t exactly a normal situation. Overall I guess I’d say I’m thankful to be here, to be healthy, to be happy and to have so many wonderful people in my life.

I love you all so much!

I can´t wait

21/11/10

As I sit down to write these entries I always wish I was better with words. The things I experience, see, hear, taste are all so unique and new. I want to be able to put them into words to share with others as well for me to remember down the road. But really no words, or even pictures, can truly describe the past eight weeks of my life. I still find it hard to believe that I’m actually here.  I get so wrapped up in the day to day activities that technically I could be doing anywhere that sometimes I forget I’m not in the States. And then I remember that I’m teaching in Portuguese and that my lessons are based around African biomes and the mutualistic relationship between a pico-boi (a type of bird) and a boi (a steer). Or I see a young woman with a baby strapped to her back with a capulana and a bundle of wood balanced on her head. It’s really an indescribable feeling but I’ll try my best over the next couple years to give everyone an idea of what it’s like.

Take this weekend for an example. After the craziness of the first week of model school and site placement, we had a long weekend free. With the help of current PCVs, most of us went out to Bilene for a little beach relaxation. We had big houses, running water and actual showers, and spoke very little Portuguese. It was incredibly easy to forget where exactly this beach town was located. Friday night we drank, danced and socialized just like you would in any college town across America but then someone would come up and ask what province you were placed in and the conversation would turn to who has access to what and how long it takes to get from point A to point B in a chapa.  As I swam in the lagoon the next day I drifted back to all those Outer Banks vacations with my Uncle Steve, my beach bum college years and lazy weekends away from Don Lee. And then I would look around and remember that this was Indian Ocean water and not Wrightsville Beach. A mix of amazement and sadness washes over me every time because I am so happy to be right where I am but I miss my family and friends and wish they could be here to see everything as well.  On the bus ride back to Namaacha this afternoon I stared out the window at the most beautiful scenery of savanna, grass houses, road side markets and children playing with homemade toys. Then there’s the woman working in her machamba answering her cell phone and I realize I’m not quite as isolated as I think. It’s an odd combination of rustic living, abject poverty and modern conveniences that I still haven’t quite gotten my head around. You’re family may not have running water, a car, a refrigerator or a stove but everyone over 15 has a cell phone. 

Everyone has been comparing what they know about their sites determining who has pizza and ice cream, who’s near the beach or the mountains and who is too mato (in the bush, very remote) to have cell service. My friend Meagan will be in a big city on the water with access to everything you could possibly want while Hannah is headed toward the mato of Tete Province without electricity. Meagan says she’s not going to get the quintessential “Africa experience” but obviously there are people that live that same modern way or she wouldn’t be needed there. Since we will all live at the level of our community everyone’s “Africa experience” is going to be different based on where they’re posted. Of course I would have loved to have been put at the beach, but I am stoked to be in the mountains with more mild weather and a plethora of reserves. I like the idea of being at my school but hope the rest of the community is nearby. I’m crossing my fingers for internet access or these posts will become fewer and further between. I’ve decided that I am fine going without soda for the next two years so long as I’ve got chocolate and/or ice cream around. I’m excited to be opening a new site, even though replacing someone means lots of hand-me-down household items, because this house can be whatever Mona and I want and there isn’t the reputation of a previous volunteer to compete with. I imagine the roller coaster of emotions is only just starting and that I will proceed through every possible one in the coming months and years but right now I am happy and anxious and ready for this next step of the journey.

I Can´t Wait - Ryan Montbleau Band

These are the days

20/11/10

Somehow we have completed seven weeks of training. The last several weeks have been routine, almost boring. Then Model School started and the countdown to site placement.  Amazingly I wasn’t terrified before teaching that first lesson. Up until this point, when I started teaching or had a big presentation I called my dad. He was the one who could calm me down, get me focused and remind me that I would do fine, that no one would know if I messed up but me so just go with it. It worked every time too. A quick phone call was all I needed to chill out and get through it. But then here I am in Africa, thousands and thousands of miles away, nine hours ahead, preparing to teach in Portuguese and I can’t call him. The time when I figured I would need that pep talk the most and I was all alone. But you know what, I did okay. I took a moment and thought about what he used to always tell me and proceeded from there. Sure I was a bit nervous when I look out at those kids’ faces and realized I was about to teach them about the levels of organization of ecology in Portuguese but it went well and I felt confident. I taught my second lesson later that week and have my first “dupla” (two classes back to back) in the morning. I imagine my Portuguese can only get better at this point so hopefully I’ll still feel confident when the real deal starts in February.

Speaking of the real deal, we had site placement on Thursday before heading off for our mental health break at the beach.  Claudia, the PST manager had asked for suggestions to make the announcement more fun than just opening our envelopes all together and those of us in Education thought it would be cool if there was a giant map of Moçambique and we were all blindfolded and silently led to our site. We would still have our envelopes with site details but when you removed your blindfold you’d be standing at/near your site and could immediately see who was nearby. It’s a shocking experience anyway so why not make it more fun and have immediate locations results.  Unfortunately the Heath folks complained that they didn’t want the shock factor (for them the site placement is more about the organization they’ll work for and not location within the country) and we got overruled. Instead we opened our envelopes together and then walked to our province on the giant map. It was still entertaining and exciting and tense but the blindfolds would have been fun! But back to the point. As I read the letter on the outside of the envelope I realized my packet seemed rather light as compared to others which only increased my anxiety. I wish I could really describe what it felt like to open the envelope and pull out that sheet and read my name.  There was electricity in the air as everyone digested what they saw and walked to their province, looking around to see where their friends were going and who was moving in the same direction as them. After so many months of unknowns, we finally knew where we’d be living and working for the next two years. And without further adieu, although I did already post it on facebook, I am headed to Manica Province and the Escola Secundária de Dombe. It’s a brand new site so information is limited. What I do know is that it’s a mission school nearish the Zimbabwe border, in/close to the mountains, cooler in temperature and supposedly very beautiful.  From the Lonely Planet Moçambique book I can say that’s its near several national reserves, the tallest mountain in Moz and has a lot of opportunities for hiking. The biodiversity is supposedly amazing and I should have access to a variety of food.  I have a roommate, Mona, who is wonderful and they are actually building our house as we speak (cross your fingers for it to be actually done when we get there in two weeks). We will live on the campus of the school but it’s hard to know what that means exactly. I think it’s safe to assume electricity but maybe even running water. And even though we will be living at the school, the actual village isn’t far but again I don’t know the amenities available. Hopefully some access to internet and maybe a restaurant. Okay so I guess when I said that I was finally happy to have something concrete to work with I was getting a little ahead of myself. But I know my site and that’s really all I need right now. I am excited for the surprises still ahead and am really happy I have someone to face them with.

These Are The Days – Van Morrison

Anticipation

We just finished week 5 of training and things are becoming routine. That initial excitement and thrill has worn off as we have each settled into our daily schedule and grown accustom to the ways of our families. I feel very much at home here in Namaacha and enjoy being around all the other volunteers. On the other hand, I’m ready to get out to site, to see new things and start cooking for myself. Little things are starting to frustrate and annoy me. I’m not use to explaining my every move to people or having my silences analyzed. My mom has decided that when I’m quiet I’m thinking about the boyfriend I left behind in the States. Based on some pictures I’ve shown she’s convinced she knows who it is but assures me that I will meet a nice Moçambiquen man and forget all about this lost love. Sometimes I just don’t feel like talking and anyone who’s spent time with me knows I’m always like that. Not being able to say whatever’s on my mind is tough though and sometimes rather than explaining it in a roundabout way, I stay quiet. The last several days between the heat, wind and thunderstorms we’ve lost power quite a bit and that’s led to some good discussions with my family. Last night I explained that I’d be teaching 10^th grade (decima classe) for model school and then had a Portuguese-English vocabulary session with everyone around the table. I enjoy those evenings but typically everyone is watching their telanovela until we eat around 8:30 or 9 and then I go to bed. Doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for deep discussions.

But things are starting to change. We took our mid-way language proficiency exam (LPIs) last week and language groups are shifting a bit as we head into more technical training. The first five weeks were more language intensive and now those classes will taper off as we prep for site. For those of us in education, the next week will be mostly lesson planning for model school where we will each teach four full length classes in Portuguese to local kids. It’s good for us to practice in a “safe” setting where we can get feedback and ask questions. I’m already nervous. Right in the middle of model school is our mental health break and most of us are headed out to the beach at Xia-Xia. Some current PCVs have set everything up for us and I think everyone is ready to see a new part of the country. We find out our site placements the night before we leave so it should give us a chance to debrief/vent/party/mope away from PC staff and our families. It’s a bit crazy because after Xia-Xia it’s the second week of model school (with an afternoon free for Thanksgiving!) and a week with our homestay celebration, final LPIs, World Aids Day, closing sessions, swearing in and shipping off.  A couple of whirlwind weeks to finish off PST.

Beautiful World

Happy Halloween!

I think Halloween fell at an appropriate time for us here in Moz. We’ve reached the one month in country mark and are about halfway through training. Luckily some arrangements were made so we could have a Halloween party at Casa Grande. We needed it too. There has been some tension in the air lately as we approach our first big language proficiency exams and cliques are becoming more defined. A diversity session yesterday afternoon got some tempers flared and feelings hurt. Looking back at diversity training in the college setting I remember similar outcomes but this is a group of 71 very different, very strong, very forward people so it’s exaggerated a bit. We’ll all get through it and be fine but it’s a delicate situation at the moment.

Anyway, back to the party! As every child in the States knows, Halloween is a time for costumes, creativity, pranks and candy. That concept is quite foreign here. I tried to explain it to my sister as we walked to the market the other night but the idea of children dressing up as characters, animals and scary things so they can run around and ask strangers for candy was lost on her. I think I described it quite well but I wish I’d had a camera to capture the look on her face.  Last weekend a group of us went into Matola for some pizza, shopping and a break from Namaacha. As we walked through the gloriousness that is Shop-Rite, we tried to figure out costumes using what little Moz has to offer in that department. By chance, Meagan and I found these glow stick mouse ears and thus Minnie and Mickey Mouse were created. Our glowing ears were a hit and made it easy for us to find each other all night! I was super impressed with the creativity in the group. We had a loofah, a couple chapa drivers complete with cardboard cars, some Fanta girls, hula dancers, the Cat in the Hat, Thing 1 and Thing 2 and a whole language group came as a cow with a butcher leading it to slaughter. It was amazing. We danced and talked and reconnected and then went out afterwards to continue the night. For the first time since I got here I was not in bed before 10pm. I actually ended up crawling in through my window at around 11:30 as a miscommunication left my family thinking I was staying somewhere else and me coming home to a locked door. I’m such a rebel!

But I woke up this morning after another vivid, malaria prophylaxis induced dream and was slightly overwhelmed by emotion.  At first my dreams were always about being in the U.S., with friends and family, back in Wilmington as an RA. They have slowly transitioned into U.S. settings with Peace Corps people and finally very clear Moz situations complete with Portuguese. But last night’s was a combination of it all. I remember traveling with my family around what was supposed to be my site here in Moçambique; there were other volunteers and definitely some Portuguese being used. And I mean my entire family was there: mom and Marv, dad and Mary, Jesse and his lovely crew, my cousin Rhonda, my uncle Steve and even my Granny was there at one point. The exact details have already started to fade but I clearly remember hearing Rhonda on the phone telling someone that she was at my PC site and that she had lost a shoe to the mud. I wake up from dreams like that with a heavy heart; missing my family, wishing I could just get up and easily communicate all my thoughts with the people around me.  There haven’t been as many of those mornings lately, but I imagine there are more to come.

As this one month mark approached I have had a lot of “holy crap I’m in Africa moments”. Sometimes they happen as I walk down the road to the market or sit and study outside in the yard. Moments when I’m reminded of the beauty and friendliness of this country. Sometimes they’re a little more harsh. Like on our return trip from Matola when we were temporarily stuck in Boane as the sun began to set and there weren’t any chapas to Namaacha in sight. Or when we finally found one and shared it with a record breaking 24 people. The most memorable moment thus far is when a masked, hissing man jumped out of the shadows on my road and scared the shit out of me. Don’t worry, I had a friend walking me home, he remained calm and the guy didn’t do anything but slink back into the darkness. The results may have been different had I been alone, although I think he just wanted to scare passerbys, but there was a moment of fear and uneasiness as I realized I couldn’t call 911 or even reason with the guy had he wanted to rob me. Don’t get me wrong though, I feel very safe hear and think that as long as I’m making green-light decisions (thanks Larry Wray) I won’t have any serious incidents. There are just those times when you realize you are completely out of your element and at the mercy of Moçambique.

So we are about two weeks away from learning our placements and four weeks away from being sworn in as real Peace Corps Volunteers. Our tech sessions are starting to focus on lesson planning and we’ll be having model school in a couple weeks. By December 6^th or 7^th I’ll be at site and come February I’ll be teaching my own classes in Portuguese. I think we are all ready to cook for ourselves, to not have a family watching our every move but at the same time it’s safe and comfortable here. There are 70 other Americans within a 30min walk of me and I know I could call or find anyone of them if I needed anything.  In a month I may have one site/roommate and be a several hour chapa ride away from the next closest PCV. It’s a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. And for someone who enjoys emotional stability it’s a challenge. But as the PC posters say: it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever love.

Beautiful World – Dierks Bentley and Patty Griffin

Marching on...

10/15/10

Okay let’s be frank. Moçambique is a beautiful country with unbelievably friendly people and some damn good bread but it’s also a completely different way of life.  In our sheltered world in the states it’s hard to believe that this is how a majority of the world always lives, never knowing anything else. My two weeks (sometimes it seems like a lot longer)here in Namaacha have opened my eyes to more new things than I can explain.

I’ll start with the fact that I’m in place where very little English is spoken and the only real way to communicate with the people I live with is through butchered Portuguese and hand gestures.  And while my language skills are improving, most conversations revolve around how we are feeling, the day’s activities, the weather and those words I can quickly look up in my dictionary. We’re not solving the world’s problems here but we’re communicating. I understand when my mom tells me I don’t eat enough (um when you eat five good meals of carbs and starch a day it’s hard for any given one to be very big), when my sister tells me which water to use to tomar banho (take a bath) and when my uncle continually explains the geography of Moz and southern Africa to me. And I was well aware that I got scolded this morning for leaving my boiled water in the teapot to cool overnight and for not refilling it to warm water for morning cha (tea). I was actually really happy about that one because I really felt like one of the kids and not the poor little American girl who doesn’t know a rinse basin from a pot of shima.

I’ve also experienced some interesting new things here in Moz.  Last weekend my mom was in Maputo visiting a family friend who was in the hospital, so it was pretty much just me, my sisters and my nieces and nephews in the house.  On Sunday I learned how to wash clothes and really clean my room and that night my sisters asked if I knew how to cook. I smiled and explain that of course I did - if it meant boiling water and adding the contents of a box to said water.  I pointed to a package of massa (pasta) and said “oh, I can make that”. My sister looked back and said “okay, show me”. I proceeded to make my massa to my standards (which means an eighth of the oil) and learn how to sauté chicken feet with onions and tomatoes.  I didn’t actually eat the chicken feet but I can’t knock the flavor they added to the meal. I was proud of myself until one sister laughed and said I had a lot to learn. Okay fine, burst my nice little bubble with your terribly true dose of reality. My confidence is fine.

Probably the most eye opening and uncomfortable experience was my first trip in a true Moçambiquen chapa (taxi like van).  Last Saturday we all went into Maputo with our language groups to do some shopping and practice our Portuguese.  We left Namaacha at 6:30am in PC only chapas. Now a chapa is like a really well worn 15 passenger van that will take you and 20 of what you better hope are your nearest and dearest, very clean friends from point A to point B. Safe to say it was tight in those chapas as we headed into Maputo but it was other PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) and our language teachers so everyone was cool.  Seven hours later the situation wasn’t quite as neat and tidy.  Groups were spread out throughout Maputo and surrounding areas to shop because the place they normal go is officially off limits since it was discovered that the owner sells drugs to fund terrorist groups.  Now that order comes straight from Obama so there’s no arguing. Anyway, our group stayed with another group to do our shopping and after hours of walking all over Baixo (downtown Maputo) we headed towards the chapa terminal to catch a ride back out to Namaacha. This time it was our group of 10, 8 other adults, a baby and everyone’s shopping bags. It was hot, there was traffic leaving town and 1.5 hours turned to 2 as our chapa struggled up the hills to Namaacha.  One thing to mention is that Moçambiquens don’t use deodorant and have a very distinct odor to them. They are actually very clean people but being crammed into a chapa with a bunch of them can do number on your nostrils. Luckily we had all just bought our phones so we had some good distractions.  I learned that I feel quite strongly about my personal bubble, it’s important to open your window if possible despite the glares from the person practically sitting in your lap and I will be in incredible shape after two years because I plan on riding my bike whenever possible.

Wide open spaces...

10/8/10

I have this tradition with a friend where we write e-mails when we can about whatever is going on in our lives and somehow we got to using song titles as subject lines.  For me it was a song that described my life at the time or I was particularly enjoying. I’ve been slacking on my end of that exchange but it got me thinking about music and how important it is in our lives. Even here in Mocambique music is everywhere and usually being played really really loud. So as I have transitioned into this new life, I’ve been relying on music to calm my nerves and comfort my heart.

I’d be lying if I said everything was perfect and I’m loving every minute. It’s been hard. Really hard sometimes.  There was jetlag at first, the adjustment to new foods and dealing with the subsequent “system issues”, then came latrines, bucket baths and the language barrier between me and basically everyone else. It’s difficult and stressful and sometimes I just want to throw in the towel and return to my easy suburban life. The first night in Namaacha with my host family was my worst and I’ll admit there were some tears and some “what the hell am I doing”’s and I’m fairly certain I’ll probably have other nights like that. But then there are those truly wonderful moments of connection and beauty and joy.  Showing my host family the dance I learned in class that day and having them laugh at my “dance skills”, juggling a soccer ball with my brother, understanding an entire conversation in Portuguese, hearing rain on the tin roof of my little house. I’ve only been in this country a week and a half but the soundtrack of my life might rival that of any hit film.

So, back on topic. For anyone who knows me, ‘Wide Open Spaces’ is basically the story of my life and you can’t really get any more wide open spaces than in Africa.  The landscape is beautiful and natural and seriously straight out of The Lion King. I half expect to see Pride Rock off in the distance one of these days. Namaacha, my current home, is on the frontera (very close to the Swaziland border) about an hour and a half outside Maputo. Basically as far south as you can be in Mocambique without hanging out with the border patrol.  I think I heard that there about 40,000 people in the district but most are quite spread out and not directly in town.  Its remote and rustic and like nothing I’ve ever experienced. True open spaces.

I’ve found over the years that certain songs will forever take me back to particular moments in time. Jeff Buckley’s ‘Hallelujah’ drops me back into the emotional turmoil that was the end of my freshman year of college. Anything Ryan Montbleau reminds of my adventures at the Don Lee Center and Kenny Chesney’s ‘Better as a Memory’ reassures me that some people, things and places are simply meant to be items of the past. I fall asleep to the soothing sounds of Jack Johnson, Bruce Hornsby and Michael Brooks. I remind myself that I have the most amazing support system back home with the mix my mom made me (and that amazing book of letters!) and pump myself up with some Justin Timberlake and G. Love.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m surviving. Some days are harder than others but overall things are good. I’m learning Portuguese little by little, making friends with some truly amazing and motivated people and loving the immediate acceptance I received from my host family.  I will describe them more another time but they are wonderful. It’s a huge family and I don’t exactly know how everyone fits in but everyone is accepted and welcomed. They are patient with me, laugh at my American ways and give me the space I need without isolating me from daily activities. I’m getting used to and enjoying bucket baths and am mastering my skills at Charades when words aren’t available. This weekend my mom is teaching me to cook. Obviously she’s a patient women!

Boa Tarde!

I have been in Mozambique for about a day now and am completely in love and completely overwhelmed (in a good way). Staging in Philadelphia went really well and I met a bunch of wonderful people but it didn't do all that much to prepare us for actually being in country.  The 15 hour flight wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but then I was able to sleep for 11 or 12 hours of it. And if you haven't seen WALL-E yet, its wonderful. I bonded with that little robot somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. My group (the second half of the alphabet) had a long layover in Johannesburg before our connection into Maputo and got lots of stares as we sprawled ourselves out surrounded by piles of backpacks and dufflebags.  We probably looked a little rough and ragged after our time in flight so I can't blame them.  The best news is that everyone's luggage made it with nothing damaged or lost. My half of the alphabet is staying at a hotel in the center of Maputo and we come over to the other half's hotel for training sessions.

Today we've gone over safety and security, water filtration and medical kits, gotten vaccines, met the ambassador and had our introductory language assessments.  There's a lot of information to absorb and my jetlagged mind is a bit stressed.  Overall though its been amazing. The food is great and the PC/Moz staff is forever helpful. We head out to our homestay in Namaacha on Saturday and will be there until December.  The training schedule looks intense between technical and language sessions but I can't wait to get started.

I don't know how internet access will be in Namaacha but I'll try to get on again soon to give more details and maybe add some pictures.

Miss you all!

My pre-trip to-do list

I’ve been making this mental list for a while and with my departure less than two weeks away I’ve been feeling pressured to get everything ready while still enjoying the people and places here. So in no particular order:

-Spend time with and say good-bye to everyone out East (that was a tough and very emotional task)



some of the VA family





It's an old picture, but we're together!



Don Lee Center Staff Spring '10



Getting excited for Harry Potter World



-Get all my belongings from 7 years on the east coast back to Colorado (roadtrip!)

-Spoil Tommy rotten! (I love that kid)

-Serious family time (an ongoing process)

-Pack for two years in Africa (Ha! Pretty sure I’ll be working on that one until I leave for the airport)

-Attend a couple of Broncos games (two down and one regular season game to go!)

-Apply for my special passport and visa (applications are practical and logical so I’m good there)

-Spend as much time as possible with my nieces and nephew (finally saw some soccer games)



Ashlee & Jesse in back with Luke, Emmah & Amelia (l-r)



-Learn a bit of Portuguese (Fale mais devagar. A phrase I need to get down now.)

-Consolidate the stuff I’m leaving behind to help my mom out during any future moves (Eh, it will come)

-Get up to the mountains a couple of times (Vail, Steamboat Springs, Rocky Mt. National Park, Estes Park)



A view from the top of Vail Mt.



-Eat at Chipotle at least once a week and drown myself in diet coke (finally an easy one)

-Make a little money (Or should I say “get a job I enjoy and meet some great new people”. Darn you Regis Bookstore!)

 -Mentally and emotionally prepare for some intense culture shock (I’m not even going to touch that one)



So I think I’m doing pretty good with my preparations.  My mom and I have done a lot of shopping this past week and are making a solid dent in the extensive list the PC Mozambique desk sent out.  I’m fairly certain the majority of my 80lbs of luggage will be toiletries and practical stuff rather than clothes. I’m bring like 10 pairs of shoes (which is really not me) but I’ve got all my bases covered plus some “comfort” shoes. Packing should be a fun process.

Side Note -  I’ve been asked a couple times what little things I need for this adventure, so much to my dismay I am including a list of such items: single serving drink mixes (crystal light, kool-aid, nestea, etc), AAA batteries, US postage stamps, dry spices or herb seeds, pictures of the familiar people/places/things I love.

o problema da bagagem

I’ve had a week to look through my invitation packet and am starting to digest all the information and required forms. There’s the new passport and visa to apply for, resume and aspiration statement for my host country desk, life insurance, property insurance, safety guidelines. You name it, this thing has covered it. But what I’m fixated on now (all the important documents have been sent off) is the packing list. How am I suppose to decided on clothes, shoes, supplies and entertainment for two the next two years AND fit it all into two bags with a combined weight of 80lbs? Now I realize I’m not going to the South Pole and can buy things once I’m there but packing for a weekend can be stressful enough at times, packing for a two year long trip just seems ridiculous.

Don’t get me wrong, the Peace Corps does a good job of listing the types of clothing that will be culturally acceptable (knee length or longer skirts/dresses, no spaghetti strap tank tops, etc) and weather appropriate (raincoat, good shoes, quick drying fabrics) but it’s an overwhelming task to tackle. I’ve never been the business suit, high heels, must get decked out to go to the store type of girl, so it’s not hard to leave those behind but the idea of not being able to throw on some shorts and a tank top is a bit odd. And where do you find ankle-length skirts these days?

Now based on the PC’s list and the blogs of fellow Volunteers, I won’t need to pack two years worth of ibuprofen or soap but some supplies are hard to come by over there. Looks like I’ll be loading up on AAA batteries, stamps, ziploc bags, drink mix packets and razors. And it seems like anything that has a solar charging option is good since electricity is not guaranteed. But one girl said that bringing her laptop and iPod was one of the best ideas because she had music, movies and word processing.

Which leads me to my first request of anyone reading this blogging adventure of mine: I need some new music and lots of it. I listen to almost everything (heavy metal is low on the list though) and love finding random bands and singers. So e-mail, text, comment, or facebook me with your current or all time favorite artist and help me expand my music collection. Thanks!

A long time coming

Looking back I swore I would never have a blog. Those who know me know I tend to keep things to myself. Besides I’m not terribly creative or crafty and never felt my day to day life was interesting enough to share with the public. But I thought it through and this is the most logical way share my adventures, stories and experiences while in Africa and I like things that appeal to my logical side.

So, a little background to start things off. I’m originally from the beautiful state of Colorado but moved to North Carolina about seven years ago for college and have been out east ever since. While in my last semester of graduate school up in Maine, I attended an info session about the Peace Corps and spent an hour and a half swapping stories with an amazing recruiter from the Boston office. He and his wife volunteered together in Belize after their kids were grown and gone and since I had been down there three times myself for research, we had many common experiences. He was really enthusiastic about me applying to the program and thought I’d be a good candidate based on my education, experience and passion for new challenges. And so it began. I had my interview down in Boston in June 2009 and received a nomination to teach secondary science in the African region that August. The challenging part of the next process was the amount of medical and dental paperwork I had to get completed while teaching at an environmental camp in a rather isolated part of North Carolina. To make a long story short, I was finally cleared this past June and received my official invitation and placement last Friday. And now I am just five weeks away from a really long plane ride to Mozambique!


For those of you who haven’t been studying the Peace Corps’ map of Africa for the past year, Mozambique is a coastal nation in southeast Africa. It’s just north South Africa, south of Tanzania and east of Zimbabwe, Zambia and Malawi. And if you cross the Mozambique Channel to the east you hit Madagascar and the Indian Ocean. I’m psyched about the location because it’s far enough south that I might actually see some cooler weather and it’s relatively close to the coral reefs off Kenya.

Mozambique was a Portuguese colony for nearly 500 years, only gaining its independence in 1975. This means I will be learning Portuguese over the next couple months because it’s the official language and used in all schools. It’s actually the first language of a very small percentage of the population so I’m hoping to pick up some other language bits as well.


I’m sticking with general information right because I have no idea exactly where I’ll be within the country. Kind of makes it hard to plan and pack. It’s definitely a tropical/subtropical climate with wet and dry seasons but the coast can see up to 54 inches of rain a year while the inland areas may only get 12 inches. And while average summer (remember it’s the southern hemisphere so November through March) temperatures can be in the high 80s and the winters getting down into the 50s, the inland altitudes can see much more mild temperatures. One good thing I’m reading, humidity is typically only 60-70% and after years of east coast air thick enough to choke on I think I’m set to go.


I’m sure there’s plenty more to tell about this amazing country but this is starting to sound textbookish and I’ll have plenty of time to educate everyone once I’m in country and experiencing it for myself. Until then I am enjoying what's left of my summer!

.............Oh and slight change to the schedule. I have to be in Philadelphia for staging on September 27th not the 29th. That’s just four weeks from now. Yikes!