Luc's Weekend Out

While Janet was off with her Peace Corps girlfriends at the regional REDES meeting, Luc decided to have some PC guy time and with only one other male volunteer in the province this outing basically planned itself. It also gave him a chance to see the new Peace Corps sites out along the road leading north to Zambia, which was one of his goals as the sole Peer Support Network representatitive of the province. For some reason the chapas plying this route run more crowded than the average Mozambican mini-bus, which if you’ve read our past transportation blogs, would seem impossible, but in these extra jam packed sardine cans there isn’t even enough room for the conductor (the man who takes your money, never seems to have change, and always crams in about five more people than we thought possible). On the ride up, the conductor literaly got out, stuffed three more women in, along with the babies strapped to there backs and closed the door. I thought it strange that we would continue without a conductor, but he just slid the window open, stuck half a butt check inside, grabbed the roof, and with 85% of his body outside the vehicle, yelled for the driver to continue. Even worse was the chapa back into town. It was equally as crowded with human passengers, but also had five chickens, two goats, and a large pig, the last of these animals inhumanely cramed under the back seat. The grossest part was when the pig had a panick attack and began to simoltaneously defecate and urinate in large quantities. Luckily I was quick to pull my bags from under the seat to the saftey of my lap just before the surging pond of yellow liquid overtook our row. The Mozambican man to my left was not so luicky and procceded to protest in vain demanding for the pig owner to somehow clean his now soiled luggage. Volunteers often claim transportation provides the best stories from service, but that is little consolation for the discomfort and danger we must endure every time we venture from site. The new sites are beautiful, cooler than the sweltering Zambezi River valley, and look more African, with more mud huts and grass roofs. On the down side, they seem to have little access to food beyond tomatoes and what looked like some beef legs. Two of them have no cell service, and the transportation, aside from being more cramped seemed much less frequent thanon our road . We always find it interesting to imagine what service would have ben like if fate would have destined us to another site; we almost always conclude it would be hard for us to love another place as much as our own town, but it seems as if most volunteers grow to feel this way about their own sites.