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).
Saturday, October 18, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Purpose + Portuguese Inadequacy
This blog (as stated above) will follow my tribulations as I spend twenty-seven months in Mozambique with the Peace Corps. Specifically, I will be teaching chemistry to high school students in Mozambique's official language: Portuguese.
Prior to one month ago I did not know any Portuguese. This problem was somewhat mitigated through a one-month subscription to Rosetta Stone (courtesy of the Peace Corps). However, at my current rate of study I am on pace to learn Portuguese in time for the 2016 Olympics. I can only hope that the IOC decides to hold them in Rio (they speak Portuguese in Brazil) and that the USA Basketball team suddenly needs me (obviously this is not realistic).
That is all for now, I leave for staging in Philadelphia on September 28 and for Mozambique (via JFK, Senegal, and Johannesburg) on September 30th.
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