September 25 marks the anniversary of the start of the armed struggle
against the Portuguese back during the colonial era. Now it's a
national holiday here in Mozambique, with all the prerequisite
speeches and protocol. However, this time around the culture of not
planning and trying to pull everything together haphazardly at the
last minute produced its largest fiasco so far. We tried to escape the
hectic ceremonies with a weekend trip to Malawi, but canceled it
because of holiday confusion. We got caught in limbo since the 25th
fell on a Saturday, and no one knew if we would have class on Friday
or not. Our principal was listening to the radio that morning waiting
to hear the Ministry of Education decision, but was called to a
meeting before he could relay the official word. As it turns out we
did have classes, but about 2/3 of the teachers and 1/2 of the
students had already decided to take the day off. Saturday, the day of
the actual holiday, Janet stayed home with a low fever so Luc went to
the local monument alone. Even though he was an hour late (aka right
on time) the crowd was paltry. After the mayor's official declaration
nothing happened, so people left. He was furious no one had organized
the songs and dances and public theater everyone expects at there
occasions. Not even the drummers or traditional Nyau dancers showed
up. It was just Luc, a few kids, an old drunk veteran, and the mayor.
As volunteers, we were invited to a big feast at 6pm. Again, Luc
showed up an hour late, thinking that would be closer to the actual
starting time - we didn't eat until 10:30 at night. Wandering the
streets while waiting for the food, he got a taste of the full
decadence of the holiday. Hundreds of our students, with homemade corn
beer in hand, were drunk, dancing in the streets, and getting rowdy.
Luckily our favorite students seemed to be sober and well-behaved,
denouncing the over-the-top mayhem. But the overall debauchery was a
disheartening site for educators/development workers like us.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Summertime
Hot weather is here again. It hasn't rained yet, like it normally does
when it's warm, we've just had hot, sunny dry weather for about a
month now. All plant life previously lush and green has shriveled,
leaving a desicated, brittle landscape. Farmers have begun to burn
their fields, clearing them in anticipation of the first storms, which
should arrive sometime in October, creating permanently hazy skies.
Wind blows dust from the parched red earth, which combines with the
smoke to create thick orange smog. The barren lowlands around Tete
city that we traveled through on our way to English Theater had a
particularly strong post-apocalyptic feel; we kept wondering how
people survive, reminding ourselves how lucky we are to be assigned
our beautiful mountain setting. Even our town has trouble with water
this time of year, people travel farther and wait longer to draw water
from the deepest wells. With hydro-electricity providing our power,
outages are longer and more unpredictable now. Interest in school has
waned as the temperatures climb, with more empty desks in the
classrooms and more absent teachers leaving lessons untaught. Despite
the low humidity, mosquitoes are back, as is malaria. It's now common
to see people sleeping through the hot parts of the day on grassmats
in whatever shade they can find, escaping their tin-roofed homes which
can become solar ovens, ours included. Even though the really
unbearable heat hasn't started yet, we've already packed away our
blankets and begun using our fan at night. Still, we're spoiled with
one of the most temperate sites here in tropical Mozambique. Whenever
we want to complain we think of our friends in the really hot, humid
sites who don't have electricity - we can't figure out how they fall
asleep without a fan!
when it's warm, we've just had hot, sunny dry weather for about a
month now. All plant life previously lush and green has shriveled,
leaving a desicated, brittle landscape. Farmers have begun to burn
their fields, clearing them in anticipation of the first storms, which
should arrive sometime in October, creating permanently hazy skies.
Wind blows dust from the parched red earth, which combines with the
smoke to create thick orange smog. The barren lowlands around Tete
city that we traveled through on our way to English Theater had a
particularly strong post-apocalyptic feel; we kept wondering how
people survive, reminding ourselves how lucky we are to be assigned
our beautiful mountain setting. Even our town has trouble with water
this time of year, people travel farther and wait longer to draw water
from the deepest wells. With hydro-electricity providing our power,
outages are longer and more unpredictable now. Interest in school has
waned as the temperatures climb, with more empty desks in the
classrooms and more absent teachers leaving lessons untaught. Despite
the low humidity, mosquitoes are back, as is malaria. It's now common
to see people sleeping through the hot parts of the day on grassmats
in whatever shade they can find, escaping their tin-roofed homes which
can become solar ovens, ours included. Even though the really
unbearable heat hasn't started yet, we've already packed away our
blankets and begun using our fan at night. Still, we're spoiled with
one of the most temperate sites here in tropical Mozambique. Whenever
we want to complain we think of our friends in the really hot, humid
sites who don't have electricity - we can't figure out how they fall
asleep without a fan!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
A Day in the Life PART 2
[CONTINUED FROM PART 1]
At 6:10 the power goes out, which is no surprise since it happens at
least once a week at the same time. We've learned to finish cooking
before this witching hour, so we settle down to our dinner of chile
and cornbread. Romao drops by to enjoy our candlelight and relax on
the couch, two things he doesn't have in his one-room mud home
nextdoor. After eating, Luc writes a blog and Janet plans her lessons,
then we finish a Sunday crossword we've been working on. We eventually
lock up and climb under our mosquito net in bed. Power comes back at
8:30, just in time to make popcorn and watch an episode of Glee on the
laptop, our escapist nightcap. We doze off around 9:30, to get up and
do it all again the next day. Sweet dreams! Bons sonhos!
At 6:10 the power goes out, which is no surprise since it happens at
least once a week at the same time. We've learned to finish cooking
before this witching hour, so we settle down to our dinner of chile
and cornbread. Romao drops by to enjoy our candlelight and relax on
the couch, two things he doesn't have in his one-room mud home
nextdoor. After eating, Luc writes a blog and Janet plans her lessons,
then we finish a Sunday crossword we've been working on. We eventually
lock up and climb under our mosquito net in bed. Power comes back at
8:30, just in time to make popcorn and watch an episode of Glee on the
laptop, our escapist nightcap. We doze off around 9:30, to get up and
do it all again the next day. Sweet dreams! Bons sonhos!
A Day in the Life PART 1
Our blogs tend to portray individual events or themes from our life
here in rural Mozambique, but we thought it might be interesting to
give you an idea of our typical daily routine. So here's what we did
last Monday:
Our days start at different times- Luc rises before 6, usually awoken
by Romão, while Janet, still a late-riser even in Peace Corps, dozes
at least another hour. Luc uses his morning time to send emails on the
cell phone, listen to BBC radio, refill the water filter, sweep the
house and facilitate Romão getting a couple buckets of water from the
neighbor's well. Today since we have electricity, so Luc is able to
make his typical hot breakfast - a porridge of bananas and corn flour.
Janet rolls out of bed before Luc heads out to teach computers from 8
to 10. She busies herself doing laundry (a lengthy handwash process)
and dishes while sipping coffee and enjoying the science hour on the
radio. Then we walk 10 minutes into 'downtown' to the market, bumping
into students and teacher colleagues on the way. We stock up on bread
and lettuce, as well as tomatoes and peppers to make beans for dinner,
visiting our usual vendors whom we know by name. After a quick salad
for lunch, Luc heads back to school for 5 periods of English, Monday
being his longest day. Today he's working on how to form negative
phrases. Janet finishes grading French tests to return the next day
and cooks Mexican-ish beans. Romao stops by to visit (he should be in
school all afternoon but his teachers haven't shown up today). Janet
has computer class from 3 to 5, and was hoping to cover Word Art and
page borders to make certificates, but only 2 of her 6 students came
because another teacher was giving a make-up test. Luc finishes class
and goes for his daily run in the fields outside town. Janet makes
cornbread in our mighty little toaster oven and we take our bucket
baths. By now we're ready to relax, but four 10th graders come by to
ask for help with English homework for the other teacher. [CONTINUED
IN PART 2]
here in rural Mozambique, but we thought it might be interesting to
give you an idea of our typical daily routine. So here's what we did
last Monday:
Our days start at different times- Luc rises before 6, usually awoken
by Romão, while Janet, still a late-riser even in Peace Corps, dozes
at least another hour. Luc uses his morning time to send emails on the
cell phone, listen to BBC radio, refill the water filter, sweep the
house and facilitate Romão getting a couple buckets of water from the
neighbor's well. Today since we have electricity, so Luc is able to
make his typical hot breakfast - a porridge of bananas and corn flour.
Janet rolls out of bed before Luc heads out to teach computers from 8
to 10. She busies herself doing laundry (a lengthy handwash process)
and dishes while sipping coffee and enjoying the science hour on the
radio. Then we walk 10 minutes into 'downtown' to the market, bumping
into students and teacher colleagues on the way. We stock up on bread
and lettuce, as well as tomatoes and peppers to make beans for dinner,
visiting our usual vendors whom we know by name. After a quick salad
for lunch, Luc heads back to school for 5 periods of English, Monday
being his longest day. Today he's working on how to form negative
phrases. Janet finishes grading French tests to return the next day
and cooks Mexican-ish beans. Romao stops by to visit (he should be in
school all afternoon but his teachers haven't shown up today). Janet
has computer class from 3 to 5, and was hoping to cover Word Art and
page borders to make certificates, but only 2 of her 6 students came
because another teacher was giving a make-up test. Luc finishes class
and goes for his daily run in the fields outside town. Janet makes
cornbread in our mighty little toaster oven and we take our bucket
baths. By now we're ready to relax, but four 10th graders come by to
ask for help with English homework for the other teacher. [CONTINUED
IN PART 2]
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Tragedy Strikes Again
We knew what had happened when the wailing started Sunday afternoon.
Our neighbor, landlord and father of 5, Nelson, had been sick often
since we arrived. He had spent the previous two nights at the clinic,
so we knew he was seriously ill, but we didn't think he would die.
Still, when the wailing started, we knew immediately that his body had
just been brought home. Neighbors scrambled to take all the couches
outside so his body could be displayed on a grass mat inside. Within
20 minutes there were at least 50 people in the yard crying. The men
washed the body and wrapped it in a sheet, then the women took over
the living room, wailing loudly, repeating lamentations, convulsing
and sobbing. The widow, Marcelina and other close family were lead
around, propped up in their state of physical mourning. People kept
vigil over the house all night, the men outside around fires, the
women inside singing hymns constantly until 4am. Community solidarity
in death is astounding and powerful here. The next day the crowds
gathered around 11 and grew until the funeral ceremony around 2pm. We
estimated 800 people at the house, flooding the neighbors yards and
paths. Practically the whole school was there, including Nelson's
colleagues from night school where he was studying 8th grade this
year. A collection of money was taken, totaling around $200, each line
item carefully recorded in a notebook and read to the crowd. Nelson's
body, now in a casket, was laid in the yard as speeches and prayers
were said. Then we all walked to the cemetery for the burial, marked
by a simple wooden sign painted by the art teacher. Marcelina's future
is shaky now, having lost her breadwinner. Widows don't often inherit
their husband's possessions, so we will see after a week, when the
family will hold a ceremony to decide how things will be distributed.
We are very sad to lose a close neighbor and to see his family suffer
so much. Although never said directly, it is clear to all that this
was a death from AIDS, among millions each year worldwide.
Our neighbor, landlord and father of 5, Nelson, had been sick often
since we arrived. He had spent the previous two nights at the clinic,
so we knew he was seriously ill, but we didn't think he would die.
Still, when the wailing started, we knew immediately that his body had
just been brought home. Neighbors scrambled to take all the couches
outside so his body could be displayed on a grass mat inside. Within
20 minutes there were at least 50 people in the yard crying. The men
washed the body and wrapped it in a sheet, then the women took over
the living room, wailing loudly, repeating lamentations, convulsing
and sobbing. The widow, Marcelina and other close family were lead
around, propped up in their state of physical mourning. People kept
vigil over the house all night, the men outside around fires, the
women inside singing hymns constantly until 4am. Community solidarity
in death is astounding and powerful here. The next day the crowds
gathered around 11 and grew until the funeral ceremony around 2pm. We
estimated 800 people at the house, flooding the neighbors yards and
paths. Practically the whole school was there, including Nelson's
colleagues from night school where he was studying 8th grade this
year. A collection of money was taken, totaling around $200, each line
item carefully recorded in a notebook and read to the crowd. Nelson's
body, now in a casket, was laid in the yard as speeches and prayers
were said. Then we all walked to the cemetery for the burial, marked
by a simple wooden sign painted by the art teacher. Marcelina's future
is shaky now, having lost her breadwinner. Widows don't often inherit
their husband's possessions, so we will see after a week, when the
family will hold a ceremony to decide how things will be distributed.
We are very sad to lose a close neighbor and to see his family suffer
so much. Although never said directly, it is clear to all that this
was a death from AIDS, among millions each year worldwide.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Waiting for the Big Chief
The more important you are in this part of the world, the longer you can make people wait for you. We got another taste of this when our county chief administrator came to visit. All public employees were summoned to our local administrative post for an 8 o'clock meeting Thursday morning. Teachers had to leave students in charge of classes as we waited under the warm sun for things to get started. It seemed as if things were right on schedule when after only one hour of waiting we saw the chief and a carload of dignitaries drive up, but they just drove on, apparently to meet with another community first. Even though this not unusual here, our colleagues felt disrespected and upset. We had 3 more hours of waiting to talk about it. Since we had no information and the chief could show up at any moment, we couldn't go back to our school to teach. Luckily people here are pretty good at waiting, any type of group activity usual involves at least one hour of
waiting. It is frustrating for people like us who grew up in cultures that value productivity and efficiency, but people here made the best of the situation, chatting with the other public employees and making jokes about the African culture of wasting time. During this busy time of the school year we found it difficult not to think of all the tasks we had waiting to be done. Janet finally gave up at around 11 o'clock. Luc stayed for the actual meeting, which only lasted for about an hour. It consisted mainly of the administrator listening to people presenting complaints, no one mentioned our wasted morning. By the time the teachers got back to school, the entire morning session had been lost, and when word of this got around about half the afternoon students stayed home as well. It is easy to get frustrated with time management here, but dealing with it is part of Peace Corps. There is also a beauty to the relaxed approach to life; we don't always
appreciate it here, but we will probably miss it once we're back to the 'time is money culture' of America.
waiting. It is frustrating for people like us who grew up in cultures that value productivity and efficiency, but people here made the best of the situation, chatting with the other public employees and making jokes about the African culture of wasting time. During this busy time of the school year we found it difficult not to think of all the tasks we had waiting to be done. Janet finally gave up at around 11 o'clock. Luc stayed for the actual meeting, which only lasted for about an hour. It consisted mainly of the administrator listening to people presenting complaints, no one mentioned our wasted morning. By the time the teachers got back to school, the entire morning session had been lost, and when word of this got around about half the afternoon students stayed home as well. It is easy to get frustrated with time management here, but dealing with it is part of Peace Corps. There is also a beauty to the relaxed approach to life; we don't always
appreciate it here, but we will probably miss it once we're back to the 'time is money culture' of America.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Bread Riots
Mozambique is a poor country so any increase in the cost of living can have dramatic effects. Last week, a 30% rise in the cost of bread, along with fuel and utilities price hikes, sparked protests in the capital and other urban areas across the country. Unfortunately, some of the mobilizations turned violent and 13 people lost their lives during several days of disruptions and confusion. We were far from danger out in our rural town, but all of us here have felt the effects of rising food prices and the diminishing purchasing power of our Metical (the local money). Peace Corps always takes good case of its volunteers and has a thorough Emergency Action Plan for situations like these, so even though complete safety can never be guaranteed, we are just as safe here as our readers in America or elsewhere. In an unrelated story, some of you may have heard the news of the killing of our colleague in Lesotho. Apparently he was shot during an attempted robbery
in the capital city of Maseru. Tragedy can strike anyone anywhere; we will continue to make the most of the precious gift of life we enjoy living each day to the fullest during our service here in Southern Africa.
in the capital city of Maseru. Tragedy can strike anyone anywhere; we will continue to make the most of the precious gift of life we enjoy living each day to the fullest during our service here in Southern Africa.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Science Fair
When most Americans hear 'science fair', they think of school gyms
full of tri-fold posters and baking soda volcanoes. Mozambicans have
no previous experience with the concept though. PC science teachers
run annual science fairs, hoping to stimulate creativity and
scientific, critical thinking among our students. But without any
background, it took a lot of work on our part to get our school's fair
going, starting with explaining the scientific method, what an
experiment is and how to present information. Our students came up
with a variety of ideas, from the more scientific (which type of soil
grows better beans?), to the less scientific (can i play music from my
cell phone on speakers?), to the downright surprising (can I cook rice
inside a balloon without it popping?). After weeks of effort, we had 7
projects ready for the big day, but for reasons we still don't know,
only 3 showed up to present. This meant our 4-man jury, with community
reps from health, agriculture and 2 science teachers, was larger than
our group of kids! Despite this, the ceremony proceeded with all the
usual formalities and the jury selected the best (only) girl and best
boy to represent us at the regional fair the next month. We worked
hard to improve the kids' projects, make a poster about HIV, and get
our travel logistics set. There was lots of drama heading up to our
departure though because our boy's father died tragically in a car
accident and our girl didn't ask for permission from her father until
8pm the night before we left and he said no. We got it all sorted out
though and off we went: Janet, 2 kids, another science teacher, 3
posters, 3 bean plants, and 4 eggs in jars for the 10 hour journey to
Chimoio (2 eggs didn't make it). There were 12 schools there with 2
kids each. We had a play about HIV, a community raffle, the HIV poster
contest and the main competition. Our girl's beans placed 3rd and our
poster 2nd. Somehow, when we got home the next day, our whole town
already knew our results and greeted us with proud smiles.
full of tri-fold posters and baking soda volcanoes. Mozambicans have
no previous experience with the concept though. PC science teachers
run annual science fairs, hoping to stimulate creativity and
scientific, critical thinking among our students. But without any
background, it took a lot of work on our part to get our school's fair
going, starting with explaining the scientific method, what an
experiment is and how to present information. Our students came up
with a variety of ideas, from the more scientific (which type of soil
grows better beans?), to the less scientific (can i play music from my
cell phone on speakers?), to the downright surprising (can I cook rice
inside a balloon without it popping?). After weeks of effort, we had 7
projects ready for the big day, but for reasons we still don't know,
only 3 showed up to present. This meant our 4-man jury, with community
reps from health, agriculture and 2 science teachers, was larger than
our group of kids! Despite this, the ceremony proceeded with all the
usual formalities and the jury selected the best (only) girl and best
boy to represent us at the regional fair the next month. We worked
hard to improve the kids' projects, make a poster about HIV, and get
our travel logistics set. There was lots of drama heading up to our
departure though because our boy's father died tragically in a car
accident and our girl didn't ask for permission from her father until
8pm the night before we left and he said no. We got it all sorted out
though and off we went: Janet, 2 kids, another science teacher, 3
posters, 3 bean plants, and 4 eggs in jars for the 10 hour journey to
Chimoio (2 eggs didn't make it). There were 12 schools there with 2
kids each. We had a play about HIV, a community raffle, the HIV poster
contest and the main competition. Our girl's beans placed 3rd and our
poster 2nd. Somehow, when we got home the next day, our whole town
already knew our results and greeted us with proud smiles.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Computers in Africa
Computers have a difficult life in Africa. With the generally unstable
electricity's fluctuating voltage damaging the machines' electronics
and hardware and computer viruses paralyzing the software, PCs don't
last too long here. Our school wanted to start up computer class again
for the final trimester. Unfortunately, due mainly to viruses, only
three of our six machines would even start up. With our administrator
stressing out, we went into geek squad mode and saved the day. Even
though neither of us is particular techno saavy, our basic knowledge
went a long way here and we managed to get the entire lab running
again. Basically we reformatted the machines', completely erasing the
infected hard drives and reinstalled Windows with a bootleg disc
procured by our director in neighboring Malawi. We also deactivated
the USB posts so teachers will stop reinfecting the computers with
their flash drives. We'll see how long they stay clean -- our
colleagues love to fatalistically draw analogies with our region's HIV
epidemic, joking how African computers are just like African men,
difficult to keep virus-free. So with computer class in full swing
again, we're both in the lab about ten hours a week, showing people
how to double-click, highlight, scroll, explaining what the spacebar
does and how to save documents and make capital letters, and plenty of
other tasks that probably seem innate to most of you reading this
blog.
electricity's fluctuating voltage damaging the machines' electronics
and hardware and computer viruses paralyzing the software, PCs don't
last too long here. Our school wanted to start up computer class again
for the final trimester. Unfortunately, due mainly to viruses, only
three of our six machines would even start up. With our administrator
stressing out, we went into geek squad mode and saved the day. Even
though neither of us is particular techno saavy, our basic knowledge
went a long way here and we managed to get the entire lab running
again. Basically we reformatted the machines', completely erasing the
infected hard drives and reinstalled Windows with a bootleg disc
procured by our director in neighboring Malawi. We also deactivated
the USB posts so teachers will stop reinfecting the computers with
their flash drives. We'll see how long they stay clean -- our
colleagues love to fatalistically draw analogies with our region's HIV
epidemic, joking how African computers are just like African men,
difficult to keep virus-free. So with computer class in full swing
again, we're both in the lab about ten hours a week, showing people
how to double-click, highlight, scroll, explaining what the spacebar
does and how to save documents and make capital letters, and plenty of
other tasks that probably seem innate to most of you reading this
blog.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Busy Weekends
As Peace Corps Volunteers we never really get weekends off. When we're
not actually at the school supervising student work days or coaching
our young activists or theater groups, then we're busy at church,
receiving visitors at our house or catching up on domestic chores. Our
first weekend back from vacation was particularly busy. We spent most
of Saturday at school for a PTA-type meeting with close to 150 people
stuffed into one classroom, three adults to a desk and people crowding
the windows and door to get a peek. Our school director talked about
our overall pass/fail rates, praising teachers with lots of passing
students, like Janet, and gently chastising teachers with fewer
passing students, like Luc. He also ceremoniously inaugurated our new
school well, donated by churches in Tennessee. The six-hour meeting
concluded with student grades. As a class director, Luc had to read
his students' marks off a poster-sized report card, using a yard stick
to keep track of individuals' grades across the huge sheet of paper.
Sunday we were at it again, with an all-day ordaination of a new
priest from our town. People had been practicing songs and dances for
weeks. The parish also built a stage in front of the church and a
large grass roof to shade the crowds for an outdoor mass. Priests came
from around the country and Portugal for the event. We got to sit in
actual pews in the section for special guests, something we were
grateful for after several hours of praying and singing. After the
celebration we were invited to a sumptuous feast where we ate at a
table with five Spanish missionaries and practiced speaking
embarrassing Spanish after a year of Portuguese. The meal ended with a
large, bible-shaped cake. The nuns tried to distribute some to the
masses of children watching us eat; unfortunately this degenerated
into a cake melée. Arriving home after this jam-packed weekend, we
just wanted to relax and enjoy the evening, so we put off planning the
school week until Monday, since neither of us teach that morning.
not actually at the school supervising student work days or coaching
our young activists or theater groups, then we're busy at church,
receiving visitors at our house or catching up on domestic chores. Our
first weekend back from vacation was particularly busy. We spent most
of Saturday at school for a PTA-type meeting with close to 150 people
stuffed into one classroom, three adults to a desk and people crowding
the windows and door to get a peek. Our school director talked about
our overall pass/fail rates, praising teachers with lots of passing
students, like Janet, and gently chastising teachers with fewer
passing students, like Luc. He also ceremoniously inaugurated our new
school well, donated by churches in Tennessee. The six-hour meeting
concluded with student grades. As a class director, Luc had to read
his students' marks off a poster-sized report card, using a yard stick
to keep track of individuals' grades across the huge sheet of paper.
Sunday we were at it again, with an all-day ordaination of a new
priest from our town. People had been practicing songs and dances for
weeks. The parish also built a stage in front of the church and a
large grass roof to shade the crowds for an outdoor mass. Priests came
from around the country and Portugal for the event. We got to sit in
actual pews in the section for special guests, something we were
grateful for after several hours of praying and singing. After the
celebration we were invited to a sumptuous feast where we ate at a
table with five Spanish missionaries and practiced speaking
embarrassing Spanish after a year of Portuguese. The meal ended with a
large, bible-shaped cake. The nuns tried to distribute some to the
masses of children watching us eat; unfortunately this degenerated
into a cake melée. Arriving home after this jam-packed weekend, we
just wanted to relax and enjoy the evening, so we put off planning the
school week until Monday, since neither of us teach that morning.
Monday, September 6, 2010
SADC Day
Has anyone heard of SADC? No one here had either until the governor of
Tete province decided to celebrate SADC day here in our town. SADC
stands for Southern African Development Community, our region's
attempt to emulate the EU. We learned all this on the first day back
in site after vacation when our school director called us to his
office to inform us he expected our youth group to perform a
SADC-themed play the next day. Considering how disorganized normal
Mozambican events are, we had even more doubts about this extra last
minute celebration. No one knew when the governor was coming so we
were told to have our theater group on call to perform at any moment.
Since none of our kids had eaten breakfast (typical), plus morning
classes were in session until the last minute before the officials
arrived, it was hard to keep our kids in one place, with some
trickling off to buy donuts, talk to their friends, prepare their
costumes or try to nab a free SADC hat or capulana cloth being
distributed. As it turned out, the governor didn't even show up and
the show went on with his representative instead. We were called to
the stage without any notice and were caught with one of our
principles at home. We were able to assemble our group within 15
minutes, but due to the cultural need to inflexibly adhere to the
order of events written in the official agenda, we weren't allowed to
squeeze in anywhere. Our kids were sad, our school was embarrassed,
and we were frustrated with how much prep we had been required to do
for a whole day celebrating something no one knew existed. Even our
Mozambican teacher colleages were complaining about how disorganized
the events were, which is really saying something. After weeks of
travel, it was a hectic welcome back to site, and we didn't even get a
SADC hat!
Tete province decided to celebrate SADC day here in our town. SADC
stands for Southern African Development Community, our region's
attempt to emulate the EU. We learned all this on the first day back
in site after vacation when our school director called us to his
office to inform us he expected our youth group to perform a
SADC-themed play the next day. Considering how disorganized normal
Mozambican events are, we had even more doubts about this extra last
minute celebration. No one knew when the governor was coming so we
were told to have our theater group on call to perform at any moment.
Since none of our kids had eaten breakfast (typical), plus morning
classes were in session until the last minute before the officials
arrived, it was hard to keep our kids in one place, with some
trickling off to buy donuts, talk to their friends, prepare their
costumes or try to nab a free SADC hat or capulana cloth being
distributed. As it turned out, the governor didn't even show up and
the show went on with his representative instead. We were called to
the stage without any notice and were caught with one of our
principles at home. We were able to assemble our group within 15
minutes, but due to the cultural need to inflexibly adhere to the
order of events written in the official agenda, we weren't allowed to
squeeze in anywhere. Our kids were sad, our school was embarrassed,
and we were frustrated with how much prep we had been required to do
for a whole day celebrating something no one knew existed. Even our
Mozambican teacher colleages were complaining about how disorganized
the events were, which is really saying something. After weeks of
travel, it was a hectic welcome back to site, and we didn't even get a
SADC hat!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Finals days the grand tour
[Internet's been shaky so here's the final post about our trip from
last month] Due to a small clause in our rental car agreement
prohibitting travel in Mozambique, we decided to visit the small
country/kingdom of Swaziland instead. On our way there from Kruger we
saw new road signs that said 'Samora Machel', the first president of
Mozambique. We'd learned during training that a renovated museum and
monument had just opened at the site of his suspicious fatal plane
crash so we decided to follow the signs. Good thing we had the rental
car and time to spare because it took over an hour to get there. The
museum itself surrounds the remains of the Soviet-made plane, and the
sculptures and informative displays had more Mozambican history than
any we've seen in country. And because the museum sits on the exact
place of the plane crash in SA, just miles from the triple border with
Moz and Swaz, this lovely monument is ironically inaccessible to most
Mozambicans. We continued on to Swaziland, a country so small we
toured it in a day. We enjoyed the rolling green landscape, friendly
smiles and small-town capital, bought some amazing crafts, spotted
royal residences and an ostrich and slept in the 'heavenly valley'.
We ended our grand tour of Southern Africa with a visit to Namaacha,
our training site, which is luckily right on the border with Swaz.
Leaving the rental car at the border, we walked 15 minutes so Janet's
mom and Tim could meet and have lunch with our host mom, Cristalina.
It felt like coming home to us to see our wonderful Mozambican mom and
we all enjoyed a delicious meal. Then we sadly walked mom and Tim back
to the border and said good-bye after five unforgettable weeks
together. Thank you both for all the memories and adventures!
last month] Due to a small clause in our rental car agreement
prohibitting travel in Mozambique, we decided to visit the small
country/kingdom of Swaziland instead. On our way there from Kruger we
saw new road signs that said 'Samora Machel', the first president of
Mozambique. We'd learned during training that a renovated museum and
monument had just opened at the site of his suspicious fatal plane
crash so we decided to follow the signs. Good thing we had the rental
car and time to spare because it took over an hour to get there. The
museum itself surrounds the remains of the Soviet-made plane, and the
sculptures and informative displays had more Mozambican history than
any we've seen in country. And because the museum sits on the exact
place of the plane crash in SA, just miles from the triple border with
Moz and Swaz, this lovely monument is ironically inaccessible to most
Mozambicans. We continued on to Swaziland, a country so small we
toured it in a day. We enjoyed the rolling green landscape, friendly
smiles and small-town capital, bought some amazing crafts, spotted
royal residences and an ostrich and slept in the 'heavenly valley'.
We ended our grand tour of Southern Africa with a visit to Namaacha,
our training site, which is luckily right on the border with Swaz.
Leaving the rental car at the border, we walked 15 minutes so Janet's
mom and Tim could meet and have lunch with our host mom, Cristalina.
It felt like coming home to us to see our wonderful Mozambican mom and
we all enjoyed a delicious meal. Then we sadly walked mom and Tim back
to the border and said good-bye after five unforgettable weeks
together. Thank you both for all the memories and adventures!
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