Oh yeah,
I am checking my email more often these days - so feel free to email me at peter.minchella@gmail.com
Monday, November 10, 2008
xai-xai
I am currently on a site visit, in which PC sends us to current PCV sites so we know what we like and do not like. I am in Xai Xai a coastal city about three hours north of Maputo staying with two English teacher trainers. Getting there was fun - our chapa broke down and it took three hours and about ten mozambicanos to fix it.
Their house is awsome, and it is a welcome break from Namaacha, but I know it is not the kind of site that I want. I went to the beach yesterday with a bunch of other pcvs and had a good time, including my first swim in the Indian Ocean. On wednesday it is back to Namaacha and all that that entails - bad food - bad bathing facilities - portuguese. For now it is as if I am on a few day vacation from Mozambique.
I appreciate all the comments
Their house is awsome, and it is a welcome break from Namaacha, but I know it is not the kind of site that I want. I went to the beach yesterday with a bunch of other pcvs and had a good time, including my first swim in the Indian Ocean. On wednesday it is back to Namaacha and all that that entails - bad food - bad bathing facilities - portuguese. For now it is as if I am on a few day vacation from Mozambique.
I appreciate all the comments
Thursday, November 6, 2008
washing my clothes by hand sucks
October 21
I have a few exciting updates since the last post. I started doing a little cooking – I helped another PCV bake a cake for her host mother’s birthday – it is not easy without an oven or many of the ingredients that I would typically use in a cake. I also made spaghetti sauce for my family (with six small tomatoes, an onion, salt, oil, and a bunch of garlic – it turned out to be garlic spaghetti). Next on the list is French toast without cinnamon (among other things).
I also had to wash my clothes, which, without a washing machine (obviously) was a nightmare. I think if I had done it correctly it would have taken me at least two hours. To complicate matters, there is a severe water shortage here in Namaacha and washing clothes is not high on the list of priorities (so I do not get much water to wash with). On that same note, taking a shower with about two gallons of water is extremely difficult.
Classes are going all right, I can tell you that the initial hunger to learn as fast as possible has turned into frustration at how slow the learning is actually coming along. People are excited about our weekend trip to Maputo. There are big plans to eat dairy products, pizza, and Indian food.
Oct. 28
Mozambicanos know how to party.
I went to Maputo on Saturday, it is fairly large city – comparable to something you might find in the United States (33 years ago and with piles of trash everywhere). Mozambique is interesting in that I can see everywhere that the Portuguese colonists were here and left in 1975 (due to the onset of “civil war”). For instance, my current hometown (Namaacha) is a former Portuguese resort town. I can tell that there were wide, tree-lined streets that led to beautiful colonial vacation homes with Iberian-peninsula style tile roofs, pools, and other amenities. This, however, is Africa, and those beautiful homes have not had maintenance in 33 years. Every pool in Namaacha is filled with trash instead of water, and every beautiful home has holes in the roof. It is almost like walking through a time-capsule (filled with trash).
All that aside, Maputo does offer things like South African grocery stores, South African pizza chains and Finnish cell phone stores (I think Nokia is Finnish). After much trouble I found a store that would sell me a phone (that was not obviously stolen) for a decent price. Initially everything in the phone was in Kiswahili, but I got the store to fix that problem. My number is:
Mozambique Country Code + 829885272
Incoming calls are free for me, so call me. I hear good things about Internet phone cards and Skype. Mozambique is 7 hours ahead of EST. Eventually I hope to connect to the Internet through my phone and Bluetooth it to my computer (but that is a long way in the future). For now I am happy with the Chris Brown song my host-mom set as my ring tone.
We rode to Maputo on a “chapa”, which is the preferred (only) method of public transportation around here. It is basically a minivan with its seating configuration so that it fits 20+ people (plus the driver). I am not joking – it is a minivan with more than twenty people in it – I cannot describe how uncomfortable it is. The one positive is that it is relatively cost effective – the two hour ride to Maputo cost me about two dollars. I got an extra bonus on the way home when the woman sitting next began breast-feeding (this kind of thing happens all the time here).
When I got home from Maputo I was immediately summoned to begin partying with a boarder who lives in my house. It turns out that Saturday night was his “apresantacao”. This is the ceremony that officially lets a guy and his girlfriend start dating (ironically he had already impregnated her) the guy has to give presents and money to the girl’s family and take responsibility for whatever happens to her. The guy’s girlfriend was the “sister” of another volunteer, to we headed over to her house for a long night of confusing ceremonies, eating and dancing and heavy drinking. It ended up being about eight hours of solid partying for me. We skipped church on Sunday, because my mom needed to sleep in and work up energy for another (better) party. This one was for the first communion for my “uncle”. It was at my grandfather’s house (who has had three wives, a crapload of children and may be the richest person in Namaacha). It was a “twenty chicken party” meaning they killed twenty chickens (in addition to a pig, and a couple of goats. The food was delicious; even the sausage (from Swaziland). I had a sore throat from the night before and I made the mistake of telling my uncles – they decided the best medicine was whiskey. Luckily my grandfather is rich and they had me drinking Johnnie Walker (Red Label) instead of the stuff from the cardboard box. It was another eight-hour party bringing my total hours of partying for the weekend to sixteen.
November 4
Recently, I have had some uneventful days of trying to learn Portuguese while simultaneously dealing with gastrointestinal issues that may or may not be serious. I enjoy reading my Peace Corps Health Manual at night and speculate as to what I might be dealing with only to have my symptoms completely change and/or disappear the next day.
Last Friday was Halloween, so the Peace Corps people all got together at our favorite bar and had a party (with a few bad costumes). I took my brother’s (my real brother – Daniel) idea and put a big “E” on my shirt – I was e-mail. I told everyone that I thought of it and they deduced that I was clever. The party consisted completely of PC people except for my host mom (who never misses a party and insisted on accompanying me). She danced the night away with my colleagues and they all told me how jealous they were of me.
On Sunday I climbed a nearby mountain with some friends – it turns out we picked a day where the temperature easily eclipsed 100 degrees (needless to say I got really dehydrated). At the top of the mountain was a point where the boarders of Swaziland, South Africa, and Mozambique meet. This is Africa, so the fence was broken and I walked into three countries at once. I can’t actually (officially) go to Swaziland or South Africa during training because PC has my passport, but they looked nice.
Among my colleagues Swaziland is known as the land of magic food. Whenever some tasty food item appears on the dinner table our families tell us it is from Swaziland. This can include anything from dairy products, to bread (it really is amazing how limited food choices are in Mozambique). No one has been given any legitimate reason, so we assume there must be Swazi-magic involved.
I had an incredible dinner last night of Xima (corn meal – mashed potatoes-like stuff that is a staple here) and chicken innards. I still do not have a light in the dining room, so at first I was excited when I smelled chicken. When I got a close look, though, I discovered it was nothing but innards and feet. I was hungry, so I ate it, but I can tell you that it was not pleasant.
Everything else is fine here; people are excited about the election tonight. We have “site visits” this weekend, in which we visit current PCVs at their sites. It is supposed to be fun. I realized it has been five weeks since I have taken a real shower, and I think that whomever invented the washing machine deserves a pat on the back – doing laundry by hand is a nightmare (the same for fabric softener – whenever I put my clothes on these days they feel unnecessarily abrasive).
I have a few exciting updates since the last post. I started doing a little cooking – I helped another PCV bake a cake for her host mother’s birthday – it is not easy without an oven or many of the ingredients that I would typically use in a cake. I also made spaghetti sauce for my family (with six small tomatoes, an onion, salt, oil, and a bunch of garlic – it turned out to be garlic spaghetti). Next on the list is French toast without cinnamon (among other things).
I also had to wash my clothes, which, without a washing machine (obviously) was a nightmare. I think if I had done it correctly it would have taken me at least two hours. To complicate matters, there is a severe water shortage here in Namaacha and washing clothes is not high on the list of priorities (so I do not get much water to wash with). On that same note, taking a shower with about two gallons of water is extremely difficult.
Classes are going all right, I can tell you that the initial hunger to learn as fast as possible has turned into frustration at how slow the learning is actually coming along. People are excited about our weekend trip to Maputo. There are big plans to eat dairy products, pizza, and Indian food.
Oct. 28
Mozambicanos know how to party.
I went to Maputo on Saturday, it is fairly large city – comparable to something you might find in the United States (33 years ago and with piles of trash everywhere). Mozambique is interesting in that I can see everywhere that the Portuguese colonists were here and left in 1975 (due to the onset of “civil war”). For instance, my current hometown (Namaacha) is a former Portuguese resort town. I can tell that there were wide, tree-lined streets that led to beautiful colonial vacation homes with Iberian-peninsula style tile roofs, pools, and other amenities. This, however, is Africa, and those beautiful homes have not had maintenance in 33 years. Every pool in Namaacha is filled with trash instead of water, and every beautiful home has holes in the roof. It is almost like walking through a time-capsule (filled with trash).
All that aside, Maputo does offer things like South African grocery stores, South African pizza chains and Finnish cell phone stores (I think Nokia is Finnish). After much trouble I found a store that would sell me a phone (that was not obviously stolen) for a decent price. Initially everything in the phone was in Kiswahili, but I got the store to fix that problem. My number is:
Mozambique Country Code + 829885272
Incoming calls are free for me, so call me. I hear good things about Internet phone cards and Skype. Mozambique is 7 hours ahead of EST. Eventually I hope to connect to the Internet through my phone and Bluetooth it to my computer (but that is a long way in the future). For now I am happy with the Chris Brown song my host-mom set as my ring tone.
We rode to Maputo on a “chapa”, which is the preferred (only) method of public transportation around here. It is basically a minivan with its seating configuration so that it fits 20+ people (plus the driver). I am not joking – it is a minivan with more than twenty people in it – I cannot describe how uncomfortable it is. The one positive is that it is relatively cost effective – the two hour ride to Maputo cost me about two dollars. I got an extra bonus on the way home when the woman sitting next began breast-feeding (this kind of thing happens all the time here).
When I got home from Maputo I was immediately summoned to begin partying with a boarder who lives in my house. It turns out that Saturday night was his “apresantacao”. This is the ceremony that officially lets a guy and his girlfriend start dating (ironically he had already impregnated her) the guy has to give presents and money to the girl’s family and take responsibility for whatever happens to her. The guy’s girlfriend was the “sister” of another volunteer, to we headed over to her house for a long night of confusing ceremonies, eating and dancing and heavy drinking. It ended up being about eight hours of solid partying for me. We skipped church on Sunday, because my mom needed to sleep in and work up energy for another (better) party. This one was for the first communion for my “uncle”. It was at my grandfather’s house (who has had three wives, a crapload of children and may be the richest person in Namaacha). It was a “twenty chicken party” meaning they killed twenty chickens (in addition to a pig, and a couple of goats. The food was delicious; even the sausage (from Swaziland). I had a sore throat from the night before and I made the mistake of telling my uncles – they decided the best medicine was whiskey. Luckily my grandfather is rich and they had me drinking Johnnie Walker (Red Label) instead of the stuff from the cardboard box. It was another eight-hour party bringing my total hours of partying for the weekend to sixteen.
November 4
Recently, I have had some uneventful days of trying to learn Portuguese while simultaneously dealing with gastrointestinal issues that may or may not be serious. I enjoy reading my Peace Corps Health Manual at night and speculate as to what I might be dealing with only to have my symptoms completely change and/or disappear the next day.
Last Friday was Halloween, so the Peace Corps people all got together at our favorite bar and had a party (with a few bad costumes). I took my brother’s (my real brother – Daniel) idea and put a big “E” on my shirt – I was e-mail. I told everyone that I thought of it and they deduced that I was clever. The party consisted completely of PC people except for my host mom (who never misses a party and insisted on accompanying me). She danced the night away with my colleagues and they all told me how jealous they were of me.
On Sunday I climbed a nearby mountain with some friends – it turns out we picked a day where the temperature easily eclipsed 100 degrees (needless to say I got really dehydrated). At the top of the mountain was a point where the boarders of Swaziland, South Africa, and Mozambique meet. This is Africa, so the fence was broken and I walked into three countries at once. I can’t actually (officially) go to Swaziland or South Africa during training because PC has my passport, but they looked nice.
Among my colleagues Swaziland is known as the land of magic food. Whenever some tasty food item appears on the dinner table our families tell us it is from Swaziland. This can include anything from dairy products, to bread (it really is amazing how limited food choices are in Mozambique). No one has been given any legitimate reason, so we assume there must be Swazi-magic involved.
I had an incredible dinner last night of Xima (corn meal – mashed potatoes-like stuff that is a staple here) and chicken innards. I still do not have a light in the dining room, so at first I was excited when I smelled chicken. When I got a close look, though, I discovered it was nothing but innards and feet. I was hungry, so I ate it, but I can tell you that it was not pleasant.
Everything else is fine here; people are excited about the election tonight. We have “site visits” this weekend, in which we visit current PCVs at their sites. It is supposed to be fun. I realized it has been five weeks since I have taken a real shower, and I think that whomever invented the washing machine deserves a pat on the back – doing laundry by hand is a nightmare (the same for fabric softener – whenever I put my clothes on these days they feel unnecessarily abrasive).
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