April 23
I returned from the annual JOMA conference last Monday. JOMA stands for Jovens para mudança e açcão (which means young people for change and action). It was created by some PCV a few years ago and today almost every PCV site in Mozambique has a JOMA group (that is, a group of students who meet every week and do activities – such as painting murals, theatre, and journalism – that are vaguely related to the fight against HIV and therefore funded by PEPFAR and U.S Government). I know I said that in a somewhat cynical way, but in all honesty projects like JOMA are probably a more effective use of PEPFAR money than anything else the U.S Government is doing in the fight against HIV/AIDS. Anyway, the JOMA conference was fun. It was completely organized by PCVs – which made it slightly stressful (though I was not in charge so not for me). During the day students learned about a specific profession (artist, journalist, actor etc.) from a Mozambican professional and at night we ran summer camp – like activities that the kids loved (problem solving activities like egg drop and feats of strength like tug of war). It was probably one of the best weeks of their life for the 50 or so Mozambican students who attended.
I returned home to lovely Gondola to find that my house had been broken into. The thief stole primarily DVDs, though he also took a packet of gum (he took winterfresh gum but left Juicy Fruit and Big Red…a wise choice in my opinion), five pens, a light bulb, and three condoms (that is my contribution to the fight against HIV/AIDS). However, we found out from our neighbors who the thief is and we know where he lives – unfortunately he already sold our DVDs. Perhaps we will ask a local witch doctor to curse him (that is popular method of crime control around here).
April 25
I think I mentioned before that it is getting colder, a lot colder. The drop in temperature has had some unexpected consequences – most unexpected has been a reduction in bathing by me. Generally, during warmer months I took nothing but cold baths – because I did not want to go through the process of boiling water (boiling enough water for a hot bath is a process that takes 20-30 minutes, so it needs to be planned out). In this weather the prospect of taking a cold bath just does not appeal to me anymore. As it turns out the prospect of planning when I want to take a hot bath doesn’t appeal to me either – the result is less bathing, oh well. To head off worry from the many nurses to whom I am related: I still bathe often enough to ward of infection etc.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
April 12
The weather is changing here in Gondola, and since I am in the southern hemisphere it is getting colder (I apologize for the geography lesson). I always use a blanket at night these days – and on several occasions I have felt the need to wear a sweatshirt.
I am currently at the halfway point of the two-week school holiday that falls between the first and second trimesters. The trimester ended with the archaic system of writing down everyone’s grades in at least three different places (first in pencil than over the pencil in pen) this is necessary because the computer (or really any type of machine that is conducive to efficiency) has failed to reach central Mozambique in force. You can imagine how long this system takes with 400 students. The end of the trimester is also the time when you get students trying to bribe you with a Fanta to give them a passing grade, or colleagues (almost always male) asking you to change the grade of a student (almost always female) for whatever reason (almost always because they are sleeping together). All those aside, there were some positives that came out of the first trimester. For instance, there are some students who really understand, care about, and are willing to study what I am teaching. These students earned good grades and it is these students whom I focus on when I think about what I am doing here and whether I am actually making any impact.
Prior to the end of the trimester I took some days off from teaching and attended my Peace Corps Regional Conference (for the central region of Mozambique). I got to stay in a hotel, take hot showers and eat meat at least twice a day – it was glorious. I received training in education and project development as well as a refresher course on Peace Corps Policy. It was also an opportunity to socialize with my fellow PCVs . We had an 80s party (it is really easy to have 80s parties here because almost all the clothes in the markets are donations from developed countries – mostly the US). When I walk around town I might see an 80-year-old grandmother wearing a shirt touting the 4-H fair in Crawfordsville, Indiana or 25-year-old guy wearing a girl’s soccer uniform from Towson, Maryland. The bottom line is that it is easy to find 80s gear in the market so we had some excellent costumes.
I mentioned before that I had just completed my first week of holiday. My roommate and I decided to spend our week on a trip to Tete. Tete is the province directly north of Manica (my province) in Mozambique and widely considered to be one of the hottest and least attractive tourist destinations in all of Southern Africa. Tete City itself is considered by some to be the hottest city in the world (in terms of year-round mean temperature). We knew all of this prior to planning our trip – and we still wanted to go. It turned out to be an interesting trip – Tete City (though very hot) is currently awash in money, (apparently the province is floating on coal and Brazilian and Australian mining companies have recently leased large plots of land). It was unlike any other city I have seen in Mozambique – in terms of modern buildings and amenities. We also visited Lago (Lake) Cahora Bassa where we hung out with Nick the Afrikaner fishing lodge manager and Gary the Zimbabwean Crocodile Hunter (this guy actually hunts crocodiles). While on the lake, we were surrounded by hippos and crocodiles and a variety of exotic African birds. It turns out hippos are the most dangerous animals in Africa and since I am not a fisherman – the hippos made fishing exciting for me.
The weather is changing here in Gondola, and since I am in the southern hemisphere it is getting colder (I apologize for the geography lesson). I always use a blanket at night these days – and on several occasions I have felt the need to wear a sweatshirt.
I am currently at the halfway point of the two-week school holiday that falls between the first and second trimesters. The trimester ended with the archaic system of writing down everyone’s grades in at least three different places (first in pencil than over the pencil in pen) this is necessary because the computer (or really any type of machine that is conducive to efficiency) has failed to reach central Mozambique in force. You can imagine how long this system takes with 400 students. The end of the trimester is also the time when you get students trying to bribe you with a Fanta to give them a passing grade, or colleagues (almost always male) asking you to change the grade of a student (almost always female) for whatever reason (almost always because they are sleeping together). All those aside, there were some positives that came out of the first trimester. For instance, there are some students who really understand, care about, and are willing to study what I am teaching. These students earned good grades and it is these students whom I focus on when I think about what I am doing here and whether I am actually making any impact.
Prior to the end of the trimester I took some days off from teaching and attended my Peace Corps Regional Conference (for the central region of Mozambique). I got to stay in a hotel, take hot showers and eat meat at least twice a day – it was glorious. I received training in education and project development as well as a refresher course on Peace Corps Policy. It was also an opportunity to socialize with my fellow PCVs . We had an 80s party (it is really easy to have 80s parties here because almost all the clothes in the markets are donations from developed countries – mostly the US). When I walk around town I might see an 80-year-old grandmother wearing a shirt touting the 4-H fair in Crawfordsville, Indiana or 25-year-old guy wearing a girl’s soccer uniform from Towson, Maryland. The bottom line is that it is easy to find 80s gear in the market so we had some excellent costumes.
I mentioned before that I had just completed my first week of holiday. My roommate and I decided to spend our week on a trip to Tete. Tete is the province directly north of Manica (my province) in Mozambique and widely considered to be one of the hottest and least attractive tourist destinations in all of Southern Africa. Tete City itself is considered by some to be the hottest city in the world (in terms of year-round mean temperature). We knew all of this prior to planning our trip – and we still wanted to go. It turned out to be an interesting trip – Tete City (though very hot) is currently awash in money, (apparently the province is floating on coal and Brazilian and Australian mining companies have recently leased large plots of land). It was unlike any other city I have seen in Mozambique – in terms of modern buildings and amenities. We also visited Lago (Lake) Cahora Bassa where we hung out with Nick the Afrikaner fishing lodge manager and Gary the Zimbabwean Crocodile Hunter (this guy actually hunts crocodiles). While on the lake, we were surrounded by hippos and crocodiles and a variety of exotic African birds. It turns out hippos are the most dangerous animals in Africa and since I am not a fisherman – the hippos made fishing exciting for me.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
March 14
I gave my first test a few weeks ago. I would estimate that 80% of the students cheated in some way or another. It is impossible to stop students from copying when they sit three to a desk – there were also a bunch of other methods of cheating (some of which I caught, but most of which I probably still do not know about). They still did not score very well – maybe they will figure out that they (or their desk-mate) need to study next time.
I handed the test back yesterday (after spending weeks trying to decipher their names – which are unpronounceable Portuguese names and written in cursive – I have never liked cursive) and they were still trying to cheat (crossing out answers that I had already marked wrong and claiming that I mis-graded). I had a suggestion from one of my college roommates (who is notoriously tough against cheaters): fill one cup with sulfuric acid and one cup with sugar water, label them with their chemical formulas and ask the students to choose which one of the cups they would like to drink (if they are still alive after the test – they pass).
Two months ago I bought a hoe, went out into the yard, cleared some land, and dropped some seeds into the ground. A few weeks later I realized that my attempt at a garden had failed miserably. I reflected back on my life and realized that although I grew up in the Midwest and watched my mom harvest hundreds of pounds of vegetables every year I had never seriously partaken in the gardening. Luckily, my mother sent me a pair of gardening gloves, more seeds, and some advice. I am attempting (once again) to cultivate some food (mostly herbs). I currently have some green popping out of the soil and I am hoping to have some fresh Basil in a few months.
I visited the Chicamba Real Dam a while ago – a Portuguese colonial relic that supplies much of Manica Province (my province) with electricity. It is a huge dam in the middle of absolutely nowhere (it took me forever to get there). You tend to see this all over Mozambique: huge colonial-era infrastructure projects or mansions that are now in disrepair (or nearing it) while in the villages there is no infrastructure whatsoever (I guess it speaks to the negative side of colonialism). There was also a large lake that apparently has great Bass fishing (the Zimbabwean guys who do the bass fishing think it should be on the ESPN Sunday morning fishing show at some point). The only thing I remember about the ESPN fishing show is that I was always disappointed when I got up early on Sunday morning and I had to sit through fishing before sportscenter came on.
March 18
I told my students about Saint Patrick’s Day yesterday, but I did not have to pinch anyone because their uniforms are green already.
I gave my first test a few weeks ago. I would estimate that 80% of the students cheated in some way or another. It is impossible to stop students from copying when they sit three to a desk – there were also a bunch of other methods of cheating (some of which I caught, but most of which I probably still do not know about). They still did not score very well – maybe they will figure out that they (or their desk-mate) need to study next time.
I handed the test back yesterday (after spending weeks trying to decipher their names – which are unpronounceable Portuguese names and written in cursive – I have never liked cursive) and they were still trying to cheat (crossing out answers that I had already marked wrong and claiming that I mis-graded). I had a suggestion from one of my college roommates (who is notoriously tough against cheaters): fill one cup with sulfuric acid and one cup with sugar water, label them with their chemical formulas and ask the students to choose which one of the cups they would like to drink (if they are still alive after the test – they pass).
Two months ago I bought a hoe, went out into the yard, cleared some land, and dropped some seeds into the ground. A few weeks later I realized that my attempt at a garden had failed miserably. I reflected back on my life and realized that although I grew up in the Midwest and watched my mom harvest hundreds of pounds of vegetables every year I had never seriously partaken in the gardening. Luckily, my mother sent me a pair of gardening gloves, more seeds, and some advice. I am attempting (once again) to cultivate some food (mostly herbs). I currently have some green popping out of the soil and I am hoping to have some fresh Basil in a few months.
I visited the Chicamba Real Dam a while ago – a Portuguese colonial relic that supplies much of Manica Province (my province) with electricity. It is a huge dam in the middle of absolutely nowhere (it took me forever to get there). You tend to see this all over Mozambique: huge colonial-era infrastructure projects or mansions that are now in disrepair (or nearing it) while in the villages there is no infrastructure whatsoever (I guess it speaks to the negative side of colonialism). There was also a large lake that apparently has great Bass fishing (the Zimbabwean guys who do the bass fishing think it should be on the ESPN Sunday morning fishing show at some point). The only thing I remember about the ESPN fishing show is that I was always disappointed when I got up early on Sunday morning and I had to sit through fishing before sportscenter came on.
March 18
I told my students about Saint Patrick’s Day yesterday, but I did not have to pinch anyone because their uniforms are green already.
Monday, March 2, 2009
March 1
Normally around this time I would be eagerly anticipating the end of the college basketball season (for reasons ranging from the excitement of the conference and national tournaments to the end of practicing everyday). Here in Mozambique, however, there is not much in the way of college basketball exposure – people who can afford televisions generally prefer to watch Brazilian soap operas.
I recently told my mom that I was considering scraping this blog – as I view my life at this point to be extremely unexciting, but she assured me that people were actually reading it. She also (albeit unsolicited) gave me topics to write about such as “thoughts about water conservation in the US and Moz”. I am not sure where that came from, but perhaps I will address it later (I can tell you that it is a lot easier to conserve water when it does not come out of a tap). Maybe the truth is that reading blogs is just more uplifting that watching the ticker on MSNBC these days.
My teaching career here in Mozambique is progressing smoothly. I actually have about 430 students (but only a fraction of them show up to any given class). Sometimes (lots of times) I pronounce a Portuguese word incorrectly and at other times I use a masculine article for a feminine word or vice-versa. At these instances, my students giggle at me. Generally though, they seem to understand my lectures – though that does not mean they will study. Whenever I tell another English speaker/white person that I teach high school chemistry in Portuguese they are always extremely impressed, which I am fine with (I like being impressive). I do realize, however, that if they actually visited one of my classes they would be much less impressed (naturally I do not invite them to my classes).
I am giving my first test this week, and I am expecting some bad results. I am supposed to follow a strict national curriculum. The progression of the curriculum, however, is not particularly logical and most of my students act as though they have never taken chemistry before (which they all have) so it is difficult to follow the curriculum. As the teacher, I am the only person who has a textbook (or really any books) therefore I am the textbook for my students. So it is very important that I give them notes that they can go back and study that will make sense. This is difficult for a few reasons. First, my students do not have any note taking skills – they can only copy stuff that I write on the board. Second, most of the students do not try to understand stuff during class – they just want to get the notes and get out of there (this is like what I did during organic chem. in college). They might study the notes before the test, but they do not have a textbook to read if they do not understand something (like I had in college). This is a problem. They are used to is teachers giving definitions, memorizing the definitions and than regurgitating the definitions for the test. I am the first Peace Corps science teacher in my village and regurgitation is not going to work on my tests. I predict there will be a lot of students failing and a lot of students cheating – both are bad.
On another note, the school uniform for the Escola Secundaria Geral de MaCombe - my school – is pine tree green pants/skirts for the ladies, mint chocolate chip ice cream green shirt, and a pine tree green tie.
We put up a tire swing on one of the mango trees in our backyard as a present to the children who feel that they need to keep us company every hour of the day. Although I think they like it, the tire swing compares favorably to the coke bottle in “The Gods Must be Crazy”. It causes all kinds of problems, but it does keep them off of our back stoop.
Normally around this time I would be eagerly anticipating the end of the college basketball season (for reasons ranging from the excitement of the conference and national tournaments to the end of practicing everyday). Here in Mozambique, however, there is not much in the way of college basketball exposure – people who can afford televisions generally prefer to watch Brazilian soap operas.
I recently told my mom that I was considering scraping this blog – as I view my life at this point to be extremely unexciting, but she assured me that people were actually reading it. She also (albeit unsolicited) gave me topics to write about such as “thoughts about water conservation in the US and Moz”. I am not sure where that came from, but perhaps I will address it later (I can tell you that it is a lot easier to conserve water when it does not come out of a tap). Maybe the truth is that reading blogs is just more uplifting that watching the ticker on MSNBC these days.
My teaching career here in Mozambique is progressing smoothly. I actually have about 430 students (but only a fraction of them show up to any given class). Sometimes (lots of times) I pronounce a Portuguese word incorrectly and at other times I use a masculine article for a feminine word or vice-versa. At these instances, my students giggle at me. Generally though, they seem to understand my lectures – though that does not mean they will study. Whenever I tell another English speaker/white person that I teach high school chemistry in Portuguese they are always extremely impressed, which I am fine with (I like being impressive). I do realize, however, that if they actually visited one of my classes they would be much less impressed (naturally I do not invite them to my classes).
I am giving my first test this week, and I am expecting some bad results. I am supposed to follow a strict national curriculum. The progression of the curriculum, however, is not particularly logical and most of my students act as though they have never taken chemistry before (which they all have) so it is difficult to follow the curriculum. As the teacher, I am the only person who has a textbook (or really any books) therefore I am the textbook for my students. So it is very important that I give them notes that they can go back and study that will make sense. This is difficult for a few reasons. First, my students do not have any note taking skills – they can only copy stuff that I write on the board. Second, most of the students do not try to understand stuff during class – they just want to get the notes and get out of there (this is like what I did during organic chem. in college). They might study the notes before the test, but they do not have a textbook to read if they do not understand something (like I had in college). This is a problem. They are used to is teachers giving definitions, memorizing the definitions and than regurgitating the definitions for the test. I am the first Peace Corps science teacher in my village and regurgitation is not going to work on my tests. I predict there will be a lot of students failing and a lot of students cheating – both are bad.
On another note, the school uniform for the Escola Secundaria Geral de MaCombe - my school – is pine tree green pants/skirts for the ladies, mint chocolate chip ice cream green shirt, and a pine tree green tie.
We put up a tire swing on one of the mango trees in our backyard as a present to the children who feel that they need to keep us company every hour of the day. Although I think they like it, the tire swing compares favorably to the coke bottle in “The Gods Must be Crazy”. It causes all kinds of problems, but it does keep them off of our back stoop.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
January 18
I was playing in the yard with some of the seemingly infinite number of children that live behind my house and casually trying to teach them English. In many ways this is a lost cause because quite a few children do not speak Portuguese (the national language), instead they speak one of the many local languages spoken in Mozambique (really throughout Africa - Mozambique has more than 60). In my case, people here in Gondola speak one of three local languages (the names of which I cannot spell or even pronounce for that matter – though I do know a few simple phrases). Anyway, back to the point, the kids were saying words in Portuguese and I was translating them into English. They got to mae and pae which I translated to mom and dad. They were confused with the word “dad” so I began to explain it and one boy asked me “ Você tem pae?” which means, “do you have a father?” I thought it was a silly question and I quickly answered yes, but than I thought about it a bit…
I live in an area of Mozambique that is on a major highway (resulting in sex between Mozambicans and residents of neighboring countries that are passing through), near Zimbabwae (which has a comparatively high prevalence of HIV), and near a large city (resulting in lots of transactional sex). Although I don’t have the numbers I would estimate the HIV infection rate here in Gondola to hover around the 25% range for the 15-49 age demographic (this is a guess, not a real statistic). Additionally the extremely high rates of HIV here in sub-saharan Africa are generally attributed to a culture of concurrent relationships (that is multiple sexual relationships going on simultaneously rather than the western method (generally speaking) of one monogamous sexual relationship after another). Hence, HIV infection rates are extremely high not because Africans are having more sex, but because they are involved in these concurrent relationships (that may last years or even decades). If you are confused, think about in terms of everyone’s favorite high school illness: mononucleosis (which we generally associate with kissing – though it is spread in other ways). If Betty has mono and she makes out with one dude (and that dude is with Betty exclusively and Betty is with him exclusively) only one dude is going to have mono. However if Betty is in concurrent relationships with two other guys – at least three people are going to have mono (and if one of the other guys is also in a concurrent relationship even more people will have mono - the numbers have potential to multiply quickly).
Back to the original question “do you have a father”, which I now realize is not silly at all. There are many reasons here (whether it is an AIDS death or the child was the result of a concurrent relationship gone dry) that a child would not have a father. I originally dismissed the question, but I now realize it is not only not silly, but extremely relevant here in Southern Africa.
February 11
Well, school finally started. It was supposed to start on February 2, but it took about a week for the school to get everything organized and for students and teachers to start showing up. I have six turmas (classes) each with anywhere from 40-70 students. Here in Mozambique the turma stays in one room and the teachers come to them, that being said most of my classrooms are decent. However I have two classes in the basement of a nearby Catholic Church that feels like it was built in the 1600s. So I feel like I am teaching in the middle ages (and my chalkboards in those classes are about three feet by three feet). The students don’t really want to learn chemistry (but who really does?) however, I think they are at least excited that they have a white (and tall) teacher.
Our (that is my roommate and myself) neighbors took us on the 10k walk (their family members walk it everyday) to their machamba (farm) one day. It was interesting; they grow corn (to be made into corn flour – which is a staple here), peanuts, and sugar cane with seemingly no organization at all. They also have a random assortment of fruit trees (guava, banana, mango, avocado, and more). For the most part, people in Gondola rely on subsistence farming to support themselves (and they sell whatever extra food they have) so it was good that we saw the farm – which is basically their life.
I have gone into Chimoio (the big city that is nearby) quite a few times for get-togethers with other pcvs. The central region of Mozambique (which is where I live) is the worst geographically (because we don’t really have a beach) but it is nice because people are close enough to each other to see each other on occasional weekends. It is also nice to be near Shoprite (the South African grocery store chain). I recently figured out that Shoprite does not have sales (because there really is no competition) but that they mark down food (mostly dairy products) significantly if it is near the expiration date. So my roommate and myself go to shoprite and buy almost expired butter and cheese (we can not afford the good stuff we can not get any dairy products in Gondola – although they do have un-refrigerated margarine – which is a novelty to me) and than we have to race to finish it before the expiration date (it is really a lot of fun).
I was playing in the yard with some of the seemingly infinite number of children that live behind my house and casually trying to teach them English. In many ways this is a lost cause because quite a few children do not speak Portuguese (the national language), instead they speak one of the many local languages spoken in Mozambique (really throughout Africa - Mozambique has more than 60). In my case, people here in Gondola speak one of three local languages (the names of which I cannot spell or even pronounce for that matter – though I do know a few simple phrases). Anyway, back to the point, the kids were saying words in Portuguese and I was translating them into English. They got to mae and pae which I translated to mom and dad. They were confused with the word “dad” so I began to explain it and one boy asked me “ Você tem pae?” which means, “do you have a father?” I thought it was a silly question and I quickly answered yes, but than I thought about it a bit…
I live in an area of Mozambique that is on a major highway (resulting in sex between Mozambicans and residents of neighboring countries that are passing through), near Zimbabwae (which has a comparatively high prevalence of HIV), and near a large city (resulting in lots of transactional sex). Although I don’t have the numbers I would estimate the HIV infection rate here in Gondola to hover around the 25% range for the 15-49 age demographic (this is a guess, not a real statistic). Additionally the extremely high rates of HIV here in sub-saharan Africa are generally attributed to a culture of concurrent relationships (that is multiple sexual relationships going on simultaneously rather than the western method (generally speaking) of one monogamous sexual relationship after another). Hence, HIV infection rates are extremely high not because Africans are having more sex, but because they are involved in these concurrent relationships (that may last years or even decades). If you are confused, think about in terms of everyone’s favorite high school illness: mononucleosis (which we generally associate with kissing – though it is spread in other ways). If Betty has mono and she makes out with one dude (and that dude is with Betty exclusively and Betty is with him exclusively) only one dude is going to have mono. However if Betty is in concurrent relationships with two other guys – at least three people are going to have mono (and if one of the other guys is also in a concurrent relationship even more people will have mono - the numbers have potential to multiply quickly).
Back to the original question “do you have a father”, which I now realize is not silly at all. There are many reasons here (whether it is an AIDS death or the child was the result of a concurrent relationship gone dry) that a child would not have a father. I originally dismissed the question, but I now realize it is not only not silly, but extremely relevant here in Southern Africa.
February 11
Well, school finally started. It was supposed to start on February 2, but it took about a week for the school to get everything organized and for students and teachers to start showing up. I have six turmas (classes) each with anywhere from 40-70 students. Here in Mozambique the turma stays in one room and the teachers come to them, that being said most of my classrooms are decent. However I have two classes in the basement of a nearby Catholic Church that feels like it was built in the 1600s. So I feel like I am teaching in the middle ages (and my chalkboards in those classes are about three feet by three feet). The students don’t really want to learn chemistry (but who really does?) however, I think they are at least excited that they have a white (and tall) teacher.
Our (that is my roommate and myself) neighbors took us on the 10k walk (their family members walk it everyday) to their machamba (farm) one day. It was interesting; they grow corn (to be made into corn flour – which is a staple here), peanuts, and sugar cane with seemingly no organization at all. They also have a random assortment of fruit trees (guava, banana, mango, avocado, and more). For the most part, people in Gondola rely on subsistence farming to support themselves (and they sell whatever extra food they have) so it was good that we saw the farm – which is basically their life.
I have gone into Chimoio (the big city that is nearby) quite a few times for get-togethers with other pcvs. The central region of Mozambique (which is where I live) is the worst geographically (because we don’t really have a beach) but it is nice because people are close enough to each other to see each other on occasional weekends. It is also nice to be near Shoprite (the South African grocery store chain). I recently figured out that Shoprite does not have sales (because there really is no competition) but that they mark down food (mostly dairy products) significantly if it is near the expiration date. So my roommate and myself go to shoprite and buy almost expired butter and cheese (we can not afford the good stuff we can not get any dairy products in Gondola – although they do have un-refrigerated margarine – which is a novelty to me) and than we have to race to finish it before the expiration date (it is really a lot of fun).
Thursday, January 15, 2009
December 18
Typing the date makes me realize it is a week until Christmas, but it sure does not feel like that here. The last time I updated this thing I was on my way to site – living the high life and taking showers in Maputo (living the high life in Mozambique = taking showers). The next day I got up early with the four other volunteers headed to Manica province and went to the airport. It turns out we were delayed for five hours because the King of Tanzania was arriving and the airport was closed – that was exciting, I did not even know Tanzania had a king (my research tells Tanzania is one of three monarchies remaining in Africa). Anyway, to get to the point we arrived in Chimoio (capital of Manica Province) Monday afternoon on a small 15-seat plane that bounced around like crazy. Chimoio is the fifth largest city in Mozambique and it is set about 200 km from the ocean and right at the edge of the Mountains that hug the Zimbabwe-Mozambique boarder. A Peace Corps employee met us at the airport and we headed to our site (Gondola), which is 16 km east (toward the ocean) of Chimoio.
Gondola is a town built around a road (the EN6) and a railroad that connect Zimbabwe and Zambia to the Mozambican port of Beira – it is (or at least was before Zimbabwe became a political and economic disaster) probably one of the busiest shipping routes in sub-Saharan Africa. It is evident that there was once a strong Portuguese presence here (my house, for instance was built by the Portuguese railroad company during the height of colonial times) there is also a bizarrely opulent sports club (now in ruins of course) with soccer and basketball stadium along with an Olympic sized pool. Somehow, a population of fish survives in the rainwater that collects in the deep end of the pool (I know because I talked to some kids fishing in the pool). I cannot figure out if it is an evolutionary miracle (that the population of fish evolved in the pool since the 1970s when the Portuguese left) or someone put someone fish in the pool (I will hazard to guess the later is the truth).
The good news (regarding my site), though, is that I am relatively close to “Shoprite” the South African Grocery store chain of which there are just four in Mozambique. If it is food and you can get it in Moz, shoprite has it. This means I am going to be able to eat things like cheese occasionally (I will also be able to eat meat – because I just met a guy who kills a goat everyday and brings it to the market five minutes from my house). So I am excited about my dining possibilities here in Gondola.
Back to my house… first of all it is huge. We (my roommate David and myself) have six large rooms with thirteen or fourteen foot ceilings, but there is absolutely nothing in it and there have not been any repairs or maintenance for at least 33 years since the Portuguese left. When I say nothing I mean nothing – no counters, no shelves, no sink, no running water, (we do have a few lights, but our electricity is terrible), definitely no kitchen, in many cases no window panes. The only things we do have are cockroaches and termites. We are trying to take care of the cockroaches with the nastiest looking chemical at shoprite and cleaning our floors with it (now our house smells like a gasoline spill), the termites are another story. So anyway, I have lots to do, but I also have lots of time (school doesn’t start until February and PC will not let me leave Manica Province until March).
December 27
Christmas came and went even in Mozambique. I went to Chimio and stayed at the apartment of two female health volunteers (there are health volunteers and education volunteers in Moz – I am an education volunteer) along with my roommate and three other girls. It is a pretty swanky apartment – it has running water, consistent electricity, and furniture. We had a nice Christmas, we spent a lot of time cooking American-style food and it all turned out really well. We ate until we felt sick and than we ate some more, than it was time for the secret santa gift exchange (the theme was housewarming gifts and the price limit was 200 meticais – about eight dollars). I received an estiera (a read mat) and a pilao (a wooden mortar and pestle-type device). Christmas was nice, but obviously it is a time when I miss my friends and family in the states.
After a straight week of rain my house in Gondola has developed a termite problem of biblical proportions. They are coming out of holes in the floor and actually building mounds inside the house. They also spawn these large flies with wings that are meant to spread the colony (at least this is what my roommate tells me – and he has watched his share of animal planet). Anyway, the flies come out at night and there are so many of them banging against things in our house that we actually mistook them for rain one night. The situation is even more bizarre because Mozambicans sweep up the flies in our house and eat them (I was offered, but declined). We are trying to remedy the situation as I type by pouring motor oil down the termite holes – to be followed by covering the holes with cement. Not too much else to report, I have been doing a whole lot of nothing recently (which is nice).
Oh yeah, I have a new address:
Polk Duffy - Peter Minchella
P.O Box 234
Chimio, Manica,
Mozambique
Africa
January 14, 2009
Hello friends, I realize it has been a while since I posted anything online, but I ask you (my readership) to bear with me as I try to find a consistent (and affordable internet connection). The other option (if you really like me/ want to correspond) is that you can email me at peter.minchella@gmail.com.
I really do not have much to report, my roommate and myself continue to try to integrate ourselves into the community and settle into our home. We have started playing basketball fairly often (the competition is less than stellar, but that makes me feel better about telling people that I should have recieved more playing time in college). I spend a lot of time cooking, reading, exercising, telling people I will not give them money, being stared at, and playing with the seemingly infinite numbers of children who show up in my yard.
You would be surprised what you can do (cooking-wise) with a stove in Mozambique.
Mangoes are also a big part of my life right now as we are in the midst of mango season. There are three or four large mango trees in my yard, but I generally let kids steal those and buy better ones at the market. Mangoes are unbelievably cheap (at the height of the season – which, sadly, at this point has passed) I was buying five high-quality mangoes for 1 metical (which is equivalent to about 4 cents). The result is that I eat a lot of mangoes (and put them in everything – I am sure that my Italian grandfather would be horrified to know that I made a delicious mango-tomato sauce and ate it with spaghetti). I am anxiously looking forward to avocado season (I also have a large avocado tree in my yard) and whatever else this semi-tropical climate brings me.
My roommate has a guitar, so I am starting to learn a little bit of guitar (everyone knows that chicks love guys who play guitar) so far it is not going well. The start of school looms closer everyday when my inadequate Portuguese (I talk to my roommate in English way to much) will manifest itself into a high school chemistry class.
I recently learned the stunning news that the Arizona Cardinals are in the NFC Championship (this is the kind of thing that makes me feel like I have been out of the country a lot longer than 4 months).
Typing the date makes me realize it is a week until Christmas, but it sure does not feel like that here. The last time I updated this thing I was on my way to site – living the high life and taking showers in Maputo (living the high life in Mozambique = taking showers). The next day I got up early with the four other volunteers headed to Manica province and went to the airport. It turns out we were delayed for five hours because the King of Tanzania was arriving and the airport was closed – that was exciting, I did not even know Tanzania had a king (my research tells Tanzania is one of three monarchies remaining in Africa). Anyway, to get to the point we arrived in Chimoio (capital of Manica Province) Monday afternoon on a small 15-seat plane that bounced around like crazy. Chimoio is the fifth largest city in Mozambique and it is set about 200 km from the ocean and right at the edge of the Mountains that hug the Zimbabwe-Mozambique boarder. A Peace Corps employee met us at the airport and we headed to our site (Gondola), which is 16 km east (toward the ocean) of Chimoio.
Gondola is a town built around a road (the EN6) and a railroad that connect Zimbabwe and Zambia to the Mozambican port of Beira – it is (or at least was before Zimbabwe became a political and economic disaster) probably one of the busiest shipping routes in sub-Saharan Africa. It is evident that there was once a strong Portuguese presence here (my house, for instance was built by the Portuguese railroad company during the height of colonial times) there is also a bizarrely opulent sports club (now in ruins of course) with soccer and basketball stadium along with an Olympic sized pool. Somehow, a population of fish survives in the rainwater that collects in the deep end of the pool (I know because I talked to some kids fishing in the pool). I cannot figure out if it is an evolutionary miracle (that the population of fish evolved in the pool since the 1970s when the Portuguese left) or someone put someone fish in the pool (I will hazard to guess the later is the truth).
The good news (regarding my site), though, is that I am relatively close to “Shoprite” the South African Grocery store chain of which there are just four in Mozambique. If it is food and you can get it in Moz, shoprite has it. This means I am going to be able to eat things like cheese occasionally (I will also be able to eat meat – because I just met a guy who kills a goat everyday and brings it to the market five minutes from my house). So I am excited about my dining possibilities here in Gondola.
Back to my house… first of all it is huge. We (my roommate David and myself) have six large rooms with thirteen or fourteen foot ceilings, but there is absolutely nothing in it and there have not been any repairs or maintenance for at least 33 years since the Portuguese left. When I say nothing I mean nothing – no counters, no shelves, no sink, no running water, (we do have a few lights, but our electricity is terrible), definitely no kitchen, in many cases no window panes. The only things we do have are cockroaches and termites. We are trying to take care of the cockroaches with the nastiest looking chemical at shoprite and cleaning our floors with it (now our house smells like a gasoline spill), the termites are another story. So anyway, I have lots to do, but I also have lots of time (school doesn’t start until February and PC will not let me leave Manica Province until March).
December 27
Christmas came and went even in Mozambique. I went to Chimio and stayed at the apartment of two female health volunteers (there are health volunteers and education volunteers in Moz – I am an education volunteer) along with my roommate and three other girls. It is a pretty swanky apartment – it has running water, consistent electricity, and furniture. We had a nice Christmas, we spent a lot of time cooking American-style food and it all turned out really well. We ate until we felt sick and than we ate some more, than it was time for the secret santa gift exchange (the theme was housewarming gifts and the price limit was 200 meticais – about eight dollars). I received an estiera (a read mat) and a pilao (a wooden mortar and pestle-type device). Christmas was nice, but obviously it is a time when I miss my friends and family in the states.
After a straight week of rain my house in Gondola has developed a termite problem of biblical proportions. They are coming out of holes in the floor and actually building mounds inside the house. They also spawn these large flies with wings that are meant to spread the colony (at least this is what my roommate tells me – and he has watched his share of animal planet). Anyway, the flies come out at night and there are so many of them banging against things in our house that we actually mistook them for rain one night. The situation is even more bizarre because Mozambicans sweep up the flies in our house and eat them (I was offered, but declined). We are trying to remedy the situation as I type by pouring motor oil down the termite holes – to be followed by covering the holes with cement. Not too much else to report, I have been doing a whole lot of nothing recently (which is nice).
Oh yeah, I have a new address:
Polk Duffy - Peter Minchella
P.O Box 234
Chimio, Manica,
Mozambique
Africa
January 14, 2009
Hello friends, I realize it has been a while since I posted anything online, but I ask you (my readership) to bear with me as I try to find a consistent (and affordable internet connection). The other option (if you really like me/ want to correspond) is that you can email me at peter.minchella@gmail.com.
I really do not have much to report, my roommate and myself continue to try to integrate ourselves into the community and settle into our home. We have started playing basketball fairly often (the competition is less than stellar, but that makes me feel better about telling people that I should have recieved more playing time in college). I spend a lot of time cooking, reading, exercising, telling people I will not give them money, being stared at, and playing with the seemingly infinite numbers of children who show up in my yard.
You would be surprised what you can do (cooking-wise) with a stove in Mozambique.
Mangoes are also a big part of my life right now as we are in the midst of mango season. There are three or four large mango trees in my yard, but I generally let kids steal those and buy better ones at the market. Mangoes are unbelievably cheap (at the height of the season – which, sadly, at this point has passed) I was buying five high-quality mangoes for 1 metical (which is equivalent to about 4 cents). The result is that I eat a lot of mangoes (and put them in everything – I am sure that my Italian grandfather would be horrified to know that I made a delicious mango-tomato sauce and ate it with spaghetti). I am anxiously looking forward to avocado season (I also have a large avocado tree in my yard) and whatever else this semi-tropical climate brings me.
My roommate has a guitar, so I am starting to learn a little bit of guitar (everyone knows that chicks love guys who play guitar) so far it is not going well. The start of school looms closer everyday when my inadequate Portuguese (I talk to my roommate in English way to much) will manifest itself into a high school chemistry class.
I recently learned the stunning news that the Arizona Cardinals are in the NFC Championship (this is the kind of thing that makes me feel like I have been out of the country a lot longer than 4 months).
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