Internet access here is limited...but here is an update

October 7

I am currently in a small town a few hours drive west of Maputo named Namaacha. The setting is beautiful (minus the poverty, deforestation, and piles of trash that characterize sub-Saharan Africa). It is still a surreal feeling for me every morning when I walk outside to take my cup-shower and use the squatty-potty (if you can’t guess what that is, look it up). I see women diligently sweeping the dirt in front of their homes, barefoot children playing in the streets, and more red ribbons denoting a death due to HIV than I can count (southern Mozambique has a 22% infection rate for ages 15-49; across the boarder in nearby Swaziland the infection rate is an astounding 34% - I still can not wrap my mind around that number).

The family I live with consists of my mom (mama Sheila) my brother (Bapoo – kind like the Jungle book) and a young live-in maid. On a typical day I wake up with the roosters at four am, lie in bed for a few hours cursing the roosters, and actually get out of bed at six. As soon as I get up I go outside to take my cup shower and use the facilities (everything is outside – with out a roof or a door – so the neighborhood gets quite a show). Next I eat breakfast (cooked over a charcoal-fired stove) and head to my language classes/ Peace Corps technical training classes. I spend the day in class learning everything from why I shouldn’t buy drinks for women in Mozambique unless I want to sleep with them to how to conjugate Portuguese verbs. In general I think the Peace Corps (so far) is doing an excellent job with training. My language skills are slowly progressing (which is something that never happened in high school Spanish class – so that is good).

After class I usually spend a few hours speaking English with my fellow PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) before heading home for dinner with my family. So far the food is delicious, dinner is always extra interesting because we don’t have a light where we eat (so we use static from the broken TV). I can’t really see what I am eating, so I really concentrate on the flavor – and so far I am impressed. My poor Portuguese limits the conversation at dinner, but it is still engaging conversation. To make it even more exciting my Mom plays the one Chris Brown song she has on her cell phone over and over again (I don’t know what the song is but it goes: my heart is all over the world tonight…) and asks me to translate the lyrics. Thank goodness she does not have R. Kelly’s song “Double-up at the Club” on her phone – I will need to know a lot more Portuguese before I can translate that.

Anyway I am doing well so far. Living in Africa is more different that I could imagine, but also more fun (and I thought it would be pretty fun). I have never experienced anything quite like being dropped off to live with a family that is this completely different (in language, culture, bathing, eating, everything). It is always exciting, awkward, frustrating and stimulating, but never ever boring, repetitive, or monotonous.

Adeus

Peter

October 13, 2008

I have been in Namaacha for eight days; my Portuguese is progressing slowly (very slowly). I can not explain how exhausting it is to try to communicate with people that speak a completely different language.

My host mother is a primary school teacher and a lot of fun. We have a 2M (the beer of choice in Mozambique) for dinner every night, and she loves to go out dancing. I did not think anyone could make me like beer, but when it is the only cold beverage available in an oppressively hot house with no refrigeration I guess I have not choice but to learn to like beer. October 12 was Dia do Professor (teacher’s day) and she took me to a pretty wild party.

Dinner (which is cooked on a stove lit with home-made charcoal) is usually pretty delicious – though we still don’t have a light near the dinning table (not that the electricity works with any consistency anyway). My diet consists of almost nothing but carbohydrates – potatoes, bread, rice (with the occasional papaya that falls off our papiera (papya tree) some beans, greens and occasionally meat. Apparently this weekend I am going to kill, pluck and gut a chicken, it should be extra-fun considering the knives here are about as sharp as spoons in the states.

Portuguese training and technical training (how to be a teacher in Mozambique) consume the bulk of my time. In my free time I tend to hang out with the other PCVs and speak as much English as possible (PCVs -Peace Corps Volunteers). Popular topics of discussion are: how terrible we are at Portuguese, PCV-host family interactions, and methods for using the squatty potty/ chimney toilet (gastrointestinal tract issues are also included in this discussion – and they affect everyone).

That is about all for now, I actually think my G.I tract is trying to communicate something to me at this very moment.

Chao

Peter

Oct. 17

I participated in the killing, plucking, gutting, cooking and eating a chicken – sawing the head of the chicken off with a blunt knife, dipping it in boiling water and than watching it twitch for the next five minutes is the kind of experience that makes me want to become a vegetarian. In general, however, the food is still tasty – my favorite dish is called couve – which consists of a spinach-like leaf called couve, coconut milk (fresh-and homemade of course) homemade peanut flour, onions, and tomatoes. It makes a delicious combination with rice or xima.

We got our first mail delivery – I got an absentee ballot and some campaign propaganda from Randy Truitt (running for state representative in W. Lafayette, IN), and although I was impressed that Randy Truitt sent me a card in Africa – I still don’t think I will vote for him. Feel free to send me stuff – contact my lovely mother (lindseypindsey@yahoo.com) for information about how.

Ideas:

Candy, chocolate, spices (surprisingly, food here is bland), flavored tea, cooking utensils (for host family) and any other light and interesting American food items – I think food is the easiest think to improve through the mail. Also music, movies, or anything else that you do not want back.

I live in a small town in rural Mozambique, I can guarantee that whatever you send me from the states I can not obtain here in Namaacha, and I will appreciate it greatly.

Nothing else that is too terribly interesting, I just lied my way out of a super-awkward situation with one of my mom’s male friends. He wanted to drink beer with me while the women made dinner (he speaks no English and bad Portuguese, I speak Portuguese very badly). I am fairly certain that he told me right away that he had had 36 sexual partners. At this point (even though PC would tell me I should have used it as an educational opportunity to discuss myths regarding HIV transmission and perhaps even demonstrate condom use) I started formulating my lie (the basics of which were that papaya and beer do not mix), and got the heck out of there immediately after dinner.

There is a trip to Maputo scheduled for October 25, at which point I will purchase a cellular phone.

Those National Geographic Pictures are Real

I am officially in Maputo (pronounced Maputoo). It was a busy two-day staging in Philadelphia, eighteen-hour flight to Johannesburg, one night in an airport hotel in Jo-burg, and short flight to the Capital of Mozambique (Maputo).

I am currently in a hotel in Maputo getting shots and last minute meetings before heading to a small town a few hours drive west - where we will be living and training for three months.

Everything is fine here, though I am told the country was built for people 5'10" and under - and by the looks of my bed it is true.