The next Generation

Its that time in our Peace Corps cycle where the young new trainees come out to visit the older and more experienced volunteers out in their sites. We both had great site visits when we were in training and wanted to give our trainee visitors the same. Peace Corps had already warned senior volunteers not to be too cynical or bitter with the impressionable trainees, and while we’ve not been immune to negativity during our service, we’re riding high and full of sunshine for the next generation, coming off the end of the school year and a very successful English Theater. When making plans to meet them at the Tete airport on the phone, the trainees wanted to know how they would recognize us, not knowing that our one terminal airport never really has more than a few dozen people at a time. “We’ll be the sweaty looking Peace Corps Volunteers, jumping up and down yelling your names.” Sure enough, there was no confusion, but plenty of heat and sweat down in the ever scorching Tete city airport where all the black tarmac just amplifies all the heat creating a microwave oven and leaving us feeling like little popcorn kernels on the verge of exploding. Peace Corps sent six visitors for the Tete area, which made a nice excuse for a little welcome party and get together for the rest of us volunteers in the area. Training can be a trying time with culture shock happening in so many was, and your entire life scheduled and controlled by the training staff, so we wanted all the newbies to know how much better life would be once they graduated into actual Peace Corps service. Unfortunately, intensely hot Moatize threatened to turn all of our plans into a big pool of sweat the first night, especially when power went out leaving us to cope with the sweltering temperatures without the relief of any kind of air blowing devices. Luckily a summer shower broke the oppressive heat, and the next day we escaped to our cool mountain site with our two trainees, Bitsy and Jill. We basically talked non-stop for the five day visit, trying to sum up our entire experience in words as best as possible, often failing to capture all the emotions, but they’ll experience them for themselves soon enough. Peace Corps headquarters hasn’t made site assignments yet, so we don’t know if Jill or Bitsy will take over for us or end up in some other random corner of the country, but everyone they met in our town said they would be praying for them to get assigned here. One of our main goals was to make as many delicious recipes as possible during our visitors’ stay, and despite several sabotage attempts by the electricity, we did pretty well with our tried and true repertoire of crowd pleasers: lasagna, bean burgers, quiche, cinnamon rolls, and fresh veggie salads. The site visit came during final exams, so our school was off-limits to outsiders, but they got to peek through the windows at the rooms full of kids quietly trying to apply all the knowledge they were supposed to have learned during the past three years to each of the 90-minute tests. We were busy most mornings playing our proctor roll in this, the most solemn of secondary school rituals, but that left plenty of time in the afternoons for hiking and exploring our little town. The girls also bought capulana clothes and had outfits tailored during their stay! A massive Nyau funeral at the house just opposite the window of our guest bedroom added some spice to the last evening. We tried to warn Bitsy of the all night stamina of the mourners and offer her some earplugs, but she refused and probably lost some sleep with the nonstop drumming and yelping from the costumed dancers until the wee hours of the morn. The proliferation of the intimidating growling unearthly men-creatures also made walking to and from school a dangerous endeavor as unruly Nyau clogged the arteries on which we normally circulate in our crowded neighborhood, and sent us darting in and out of random hiding places. We got them to the mini-bus safely and set about sweeping and tidying up our little house for our last few weeks and washing a mountain of laundry.