May 9
When I last left you I had just returned from the JOMA conference, I was not bathing and I had just been robbed. I am now almost four weeks into the second trimester of school, and still not bathing (as the weather continues to get colder).
The second trimester is turning out to be better than the first, mostly because my Portuguese has improved. I am also currently teaching about trends in the Periodic Table (which is about as exciting as it gets in ninth grade chemistry over here).
I got a chance to go to the beach last weekend, which was fun. The beach town of choice was Vilankulos, which is at the northern end of Inhambane Province (pronounced in – yam – bahn – ee) and hence, extremely far away. Long distance travel here is on par with my vision of hell, however, I did get to pass through the town of Mexungue (Mesh – oong – gway), which I think must be the cashew and pineapple capital of the universe (both were plentiful, cheap and delicious). Vilankulos itself is really a very sad little town; millions of dollars (for tourism) pass through the airport on the way to the offshore islands known as the Bazaruto Archipelago while the town continues to go on without development or basic infrastructure. Apparently all the money spent on tourism follows the South African and Zimbabwean Lodge owners back to their countries. The beach was nice, though, and I went swimming, ate seafood (I don’t really even like seafood), and saw lots of people whom I had not seen in a long time.
My roommate and I have started playing a new game with our neighbors (most of whom are children) called mata-mata which literally means kill-kill. The game is a complicated version of pickle/dodge ball that involves turning over flip-flops. The bottom line, though, is that I get to peg little kids with a ball made out of a plastic bag and grass. If you are having trouble visualizing this I would suggest a viewing of Adam Sandler during the dodge ball scene in Billy Madison. If you are still having trouble, just picture a 6’10” guy throwing a ball at small African children.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
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.
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.
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).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)