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