Intruder

It's hard to believe that I've been here for almost two months already. At times it feels like I've been here for a much longer time and then there are others when I feel as if I've only just arrived. I spent a lot of time walking into the city this week-end. The walk from my rural-esque outpost to the city centre is more or less an hour. I did this on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. People think that it's crazy that I'm walking. I can't comprehend this. It strikes me as completely ironic considering that I'm an American and Americans have this terrible reputation as being lazy sloth-like overindulged creatures. Yet Mozambicans will go out of their way to avoid walking. When I tell people that I walk into the city, their eyes grow wide. No, you can't it's too far. Too far? It's only an hour. People will pay money to cram themselves into tiny trucks or cargo vans where they have no air to breathe and barely a place to put their bottoms just to avoid walking, it's absurd. The whole time I'm walking down the main road people are pulling over screaming "Senora, senora, boleya?"( rough translation - miss miss do you want a ride?) No thank you I say, I like to walk. This is usually followed by a grunt or a series of snickers. I never noticed this before because with Tracy we hitchhiked all the time and are always picked up right away.

I have finally learned my way around the city. It's such a liberating feeling to have your bearings in a completely foreign place. It has taken me a while since there are no street signs (at least very few) and many of the buildings look similar. But I can now confidently say that I can get around on my own to almost any location.

Yesterday afternoon as I was coming home from the city, I noticed the gate to my house and the front door were open. At first I thought Tracy was home. As I got closer, I saw a pair of flip-flops that I didn't recognize.

"Ola! Ola!" I said walking into my house. The dining room was clear, the living room was clear, spare bedroom one was clear, my door was locked, Tracy's door was locked, that left spare bedroom number two. "Ola!" I pushed the door open and flipped on the light. The door bounced back. Someone was behind the door. My heart started to leap out of my chest. "Ola! Ola!" I pushed on the door again, I could see the faint outline of a figure in the crack in the door. "Saida!" I exclaimed. The person stepped out. It was one of the neighbor kids. The one that stares but never speaks. He looked frightened. I was so confused yet relieved that it wasn't a rapist or a mass murderer. What are you doing here? I asked in French since I forgot how to say it in Portuguese. The boy, who is probably 14 and probably slow, said something about a cat and ran out. His cat story made no sense considering my door was closed and last I checked cats didn't possess the thumbs necessary to open doors. I walked around the house to check if anything was missing. We've had problems with people walking in and taking our food. I guess the perception is that the Americans can afford to buy more food, so let's just help ourselves to whatever they've got. It's so annoying, but our door doesn't lock and there is nothing we can do.

Making my rounds, I noticed that the guitar we keep in the corner of the living room was missing. It's case was wide open. I went back into the spare bedroom and tucked away behind the door was the guitar. I wasn't sure what to do. Our next door neighbors don't speak English. They own the house we live in. Their son broke into my house and was either playing the guitar or planning on stealing the guitar. I didn't have the language skills to explain the situation, so I am going to wait to speak to my project leader today to see if he can speak to the family next door. So strange!

We really need a lock. Only our bedrooms lock. People are constantly walking in, taking our broom, our coffee, our tea, our matches and our food when we're not home. People just walk in when we are home, they come in for visits and quite frankly after spending my day in the teachers office with my "colleagues" the last thing I want to do is have a visitor whose native language is not English, who doesn't observe the same cultural customs that I do. It's too frustrating for me to deal with at this stage of my own culture shock. At first I used to feel bad kicking people out. I used to give in and tell people that I'd give them English lessons. "What would happen if you just said no?" Akisha asked one day. I was taken aback. Duh! Just say no. And now I do. People may think that I'm rude, so let it be, I've got peace of mind. "I want you to teach me English and I will teach you Portuguese"- "No!" "Ugh?" "Not today. Good night!"

Eight legs and eight eyes, just a bit off-putting!

I am not a chemical spray kind of a person. I feel they are dangerous and unnecessarily toxic. I do not use Raid or Aerosol or even hairspray for that matter. Today after work I am going to buy Baygonne (or however it is spelled). It is basically Raid, a very powerful raid. The reason for this uncharacteristic purchase is that this afternoon while I was eating my lunch and sprucing up my resume, an enormous spider the size of my hand sped into my living room. Immediately I jumped up and ran next door to get someone to kill it. One of my neighbors was outside sweeping the sand (I'll never understand why this happens) and she came to my rescue, only by the time we got back into the house it was gone. It wasn't gone in my mind however. I could feel that the spider sensed that I was trying to kill it. I could feel it, conveniently tucked into the shadows, waiting for the moment when I will be alone to strike.

NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!

I'm arming myself and it's warfare. I've got to survive three more days before Tracy returns and I finally have some back-up.

Working

The wheels in my brain are cranking in overdrive this morning. I just finished translating a forty minute speech that I have to present this afternoon regarding the importance of using Drama as an educational tool for people in rural communities. This will be my longest Portuguese speech yet. I hope it goes over well. I hope I'm understood because my Portuguese accent, in terms of my pronunciation, always sounds French since that was the language I studied in school. Whenever I attempt to speak any of the romance languages they all have a French twang. My students were so cute last night. Finally, I feel a wall has come down. I'm used to joking around with my students and interacting with them. I ruled my classrooms with an iron fist, but I always found time to bop one or two students on the head with my New York Times or poke a few in the ears with pencils. Teaching should be fun! Here it is almost impossible because everyone and everything is so serious. Last night, however, I made my students laugh, I made them crack-up. I poked fun at a few and they understood that I was teasing them and they couldn't stop laughing. VICTORY for Senora Sojo! or Mamma Sojo as I am sometimes called.

Last Thursday, our English lesson was about temperature and weather. Last night we reviewed some of our key concepts and vocab words and I proceeded to teach two songs. One song was an old Broadway tune, a Gershwin standard I believe "Oh the rain, goes a pitter-patter, and I'd like to be safe in bed...", the other one was the good old Christmas favorite "Let it snow, let it snow , let it snow". So I taught these songs and we dissected the meaning, then I broke them into four groups and gave each group a weather phenomenon to write a song in English about. One group had cyclones, another wind, another floods and another the sun. They loved the assignment and had so much fun composing. Some of the songs were really good. My students are very musical. I will keep that in mind. Next Monday, each group will take a turn teaching their song to the class and they have to come up with a dance to go along with their song that conveys the meaning. It was so fun! I'm recording their performances.

My work here is really picking up. I'm happy. I've been busy doing actual things that are useful. My field observations with the student teachers are going well. I've seen some amazing progressive teaching. I've also seen some scary things. I have started to set up meetings with the teachers and I am able to provide feedback and give suggestions. I also get time to demonstrate some techniques to them. It's great. I'm mentoring.

I've also been given the task of creating a pre-school curriculum for children in the community. I'm working on that right now. I'm making sure to address all of the learning modalities to provide the teachers with a good firm example of diversified lesson planning. I'm going to observe some local pre-schools to get a better understanding of how they run and what types of curriculum's they use. There are several pre-schools in the city that cater to the children of ex-pats and they are excellent models of what every child here in Mozambique should have access to. They will actually establish a pre-school here at the EPF school in the coming months. I hope I'm here to help set up.

Long story short. I've been very enthusiastic about my work lately.

unsolicited kiss

Can somebody please tell me why this was necessary?I was rounding the corner to enter through the ADPP gate about five minutes ago for my evening class. One of the usually shy guards pops out and pulls me in for a Brazilian, right cheeked kiss. Oh, I thought, we're going for a Brazilian, he.. he.. nervous laughter. Then he whips around for an Italian kiss on the left. This time I step back. Then he pulls me into him and plants his hot crusty lips on mine. I jumped back. He said something in Portuguese. I was disturbed and had no words to communicate my disgust in Portuguese and hurriedly slid through the gate. Why? Why was that necessary?? I still have to walk home in the dark past the same guard station!

Happy Easter

The sky just opened up and expelled bucket-loads of rain. The rain beat down for an hour straight. I haven't seen rain like this here. The type of rain that is so heavy and thick it looks like chords of white frothy rope. Positive side effect, it's become nice and cool outside. It feels like early Spring in the States (er-rather the North Eastern part). My Easter week-end was fantastic. I spent my time in the city with Akisha and her former Peace Corps buddies. It was so nice. I got to catch up on LOST. I'm completely up to date now. Can't wait to see what happens next. Caught up on some movies as well. Akisha has a huge memory storage device hooked to her Mac and she's got seasons worth to television shows and years worth of movies.

We had Mexican night on Saturday. I love Mexican food. Everything was made from scratch and was so good. I hadn't been that full in a long long time. We topped everything off with passion fruit cocktails and good conversation.

Spending the weekend at Akisha's is like going to a luxury resort, she's got indoor plumbing and warm running water. I actually cringed this morning when I had to face yet another cold bucket bath. One week-end away and I've become spoiled.

On Easter Sunday, we made our way out to Barra beach. It's the other major beach here in Inhambane. It's much classier if you will, than Tofo and is more family oriented/summer home oriented. Tofo is more my speed. The crowd is younger and completely free-spirited. There are locals on the beaches and there are no major hotels. The Barra crowd is older and loaded. It was nice though. We had dinner at Flamingo Bay, a Conde Naste resort. It was beautiful. The resort was on stilts overlooking a bay of flamingos. The food was fantastic. Unfortunately, we could only afford to eat dinner, since the rooms started at $595.00/night. Ah, one day! But it was lovely and we even ate Cadburry chocolate bars in honor of Easter.

Akisha and I ate our Good Friday meal in the Central Market. There is a wonderful little vegetarian-esque food stall frequented by locals right in the center of the market. The food is amazing and cheap and the women who run the restaurant are a riot. We dined on coconut curried sweet potato leaves, manioch and fried potato. Since it was Good Friday and everyone was is a jovial mood, we were given complimentary cups of Palm Wine (which we were forced to drink, it was absolutely disgusting and smelled rancid but was a beautiful gesture). We were also given fish to eat. It is extremely rude here to leave anything at all on your plate. Our fish was staring back at us, literally, and we had to swallow it down, minus the head and vertebrae. It was gross, but you can't knock local customs and tradition. The women got a kick out of us and asked us to take pictures of them. It was a good time. I'll be going back to their restaurant stall quite often.

On My Own

Alas, I am officially alone. It started yesterday morning when Tina left. And I've been alone ever since. I have been just fine though.Last night I tutored Belview my neighbor in order to have company. He's a stubborn pupil. Getting him to focus can be like pulling teeth. He is all over the place. Very easily distracted.

I've been blasting my I-pod music now that I have speakers and I've focused my energy on my writing. I've been a writing fiend. I can't stop. Tracy left a manuscript that she is working on for me to edit, so it's nice to be able to get out of my head and jump into the world of her story.

I can't stop eating passion fruit. It's my new favorite. Mango season has left me and last Sunday while I was watching movies in town at Akisha's house, she introduced me to the sweet, savory, succulent passion fruit. They are gifts from the heavens. I can't get enough.

I also can't get enough tea. I don't know what's gotten into me. I have about four cups of tea a day. Black tea with milk, no sugar. I've become British. I even take biscuits with my tea. Lately I've been partial to the Maria biscuit. It's a classic, very subtle, yet elegant. There are around twenty or so different varieties of Mozambican produced biscuits. Each with its own unique flavor and nuance. I will stop talking about food. I am always hungry.

Our cat La Linia aka. Freaky, had babies. She gave birth to two tiny squirming kitties. At first I couldn't find them. I would hear them cry and I'd run around trying to follow the sound of their squeaky little croaks. Finally, last night, I located the litter, nestled snug between the refrigerator and the oven. Not the best location, I realize, but we never use the oven, so they should be fine. The kittens are so tiny. I would guess they are three days old or so. They can't even open their little eyes yet. Both fit in the palm of my hand. They are just the cutest little things ever. It's very exciting for me as I've been slightly bored and will grow even more bored and restless as the days go by until Tracy returns.

I have great plans however. There is a guitar in our living room. I decided this morning that I will teach myself how to play it. I've never taken lessons. I've never even held a guitar before, but I'm confident I'll be able to strum a little tune in two weeks time.

I've also decided that I will paint a series of self-portraits. I've got my mirror. I've got drawing paper, pencils, pens, and paints. What can I say, narcissism never killed anyone.

Back to work. Today is a half day.

Why are Celine Dion and Brian Adams so popular here?

I locked myself out of my room first thing this morning. It was crazy! I'm usually so together and never lose things or lock myself out of places, but not this morning. As soon as the door slammed behind me, my heart sank. I was on my way to the shower at 5:30am, wearing only and I emphasize ONLY my capolana (thin sarong-like patterned piece of fabric). Tracy left last night for her two week investigation period. Tina was out jogging. I panicked. I tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin, I tried to pick the lock with a match stick (don't ask), I tried to pick the lock with a knife from the kitchen table - nothing. I slammed my weight against the door, it didn't budge. Nothing worked, it was secure and I have no breaking and entering skills. I was forced to do what I didn't want to do. I went next door, knocked on my neighbors window to ask if they had a spare key. Only, I didn't know the word for key in Portuguese, nor did I have my speech prepared and I stood there sputtering and muttering like a nervous idiot. I was miming and the man looked at me like I was completely out of my mind. I convinced him to follow me into my house so I could show him my problem and he said something rapidly in Portuguese and left. I was so afraid that I would have to go to work in my capolana. Then one of the little servant children came over with a key, a key that fit perfectly into my key hole and just like that, my life was back on track.

As of tomorrow I will be alone :0( I'm already alone at work. Tracy has gone on a two week investigation period. Tina leaves tomorrow morning for Maputo. I don't want to be all alone in my house. It's so difficult because we hitchhike everywhere which is fine if you are two or three, very safe and common, but very stupid if you are one. The chapas don't run after six so I can't really go anywhere. Walking late at night I love and it's fine if you are two or three, but completely stupid once again if you are one. I am one! And I have no idea what I will do if a bug enters our house. Lately all has been well. The weather has been so cool and breezy compliments of the cyclone. I'm wearing a sweatshirt right now because it's around 65 degrees. So I haven't seen as many bugs which I'm thankful for. It's just lonely being in the teacher's room alone. I did have conversations with the teachers this morning in Portuguese so on the up side maybe my Portuguese will improve.

My work load has picked up. I am actually working. It's not bad. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings I work on the machamba (farm). I spend my mornings planning lessons and correcting papers or to be perfectly honest reading. I just finished "The Omnivores Dilemma" by: Michael Pollen, very good. Now I'm reading "Notes from a Small Island" by: Bill Bryson. It's so funny, I can't stop laughing aloud. On Monday evenings I lead an English club. My students are learning and analyzing Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds," It's really fun. I run around directing them like a conductor with a pencil.

On Thursday mornings I hold a formal English class. The students are very attentive in the mornings, I just wish they'd ask more questions and have stronger personalities. But this really isn't about me, so I'll let it go. In the afternoons Monday through Thursday, I follow the students into the rural villages to watch them student teach and I give them pedagogical notes. I also got my Drama Club, we meet sporadically in the evenings. The students are putting on an educational drama about child abuse which demonstrates how to effectively deal with the problem. It's good. It is of course in Portuguese and I can't give them their notes until the next day because I have to go home and translate my acting critiques but it's good. I am actually reminded of how much I love directing and I miss my old students (the ambitious actor wanna-be ones). It was such a pleasure to direct them and help them to realize their potential. A lot of what I say here gets lost in translation, I don't feel the same connection. I don't feel as though I'm a part of organic creation. I feel more like an observer than a participant. Hopefully things will change. We have entered a competition which will take place in two weeks that may qualify us for a national theatre festival. Cross your fingers for us. We're trying to get there.

Otherwise all is well. No illness, no injuries, well except for the puncture wound I took to the toe yesterday while working on the agriculture project. I had to perform minor surgery on myself to remove a large thorn from my toe with my eyebrow tweezers. It broke in half so half is still impaled in my big toe. I'm hoping it will work itself out like a splinter. Luckily I came prepared with a large first aid kit, so I'm keeping it clean and covered.

I'm just going a little crazy here because everywhere I go for some bizarre reason people are blasting the worst Western music ever. Celine Dion, Brian Adams, The Backstreet Boys, they are all so popular here. I have no idea why. It's like they imported all of the crappy music nobody in the West will listen to anymore and decided that it should be idolized. Everywhere I go, one of these ill fated musicians follows me. I'm in the teachers office right now and they are playing some awful Celine Dion ballad. The worst is when people decide to sing along really loudly but they don't really know the words so they are muttering and grunting to the already awful song. Time to take a deep breath, channel my inner ohm and try my best to tune everything and everyone out.

What exactly is a cyclone?

The weather alert is calling for a cyclone.Hmmmmm... I'm not sure what that is exactly. Is that a tornado over water? It's supposed to touch down this afternoon, so I guess I'll soon find out.

We were up at five again this morning to work the garden. We are now in the process of fertilizing our sandy soil by filling our trenches with dead grass and leaves. It's no fun gathering the stuff because it scratches your arms up. Then, once we've filled the trenches we have to stomp on the dead leaves and grass "I Love Lucy" style to pack it down for the next layer of compost. That part is fun.

We've got a new house mate for a week. It's nice to have another person in the house. There are two of us sharing a four bedroom so it's kind of empty. Tina is from the ADPP project in Maputo and she's on her investigation period where she's investigating another project in Mozambique- ours.

I taught my first class last Monday. It went well. My classes are an hour so they're not too terribly difficult to manage at all. My students are intermediate English speakers and they're really sweet. I need to break them out of the habit of mumbling and speaking softly. I can never hear them and I don't know how a classroom full of kiddies will ever hear them. The women are especially shy and passive, it's so sad to see. They must think I'm crazy because my theatre major lungs can project and I'm always engaging them, asking questions and making them get up to play games or do activities. I teach again in about twenty minutes, the same group. I'm finding ways to sneak pedagogical studies into my lessons. Today they will be learning "Three Little Birds" in round. Yep, in round! Along with how to tell the time and a number review.

I know, I know, It's almost too exciting to handle, but I will manage.

Eu Estou Bem

I am better now! I had some sort of a flu strain from South Africa. I'm glad it wasn't malaria. We both had all of the classic symptoms. I've actually never had the flu before. I hardly ever get sick back in the states.  The flu is no good.

Tracy and I made a new friend!!!!! :0) Her name is Akeisha and she's an American from North Carolina. She teaches at the Eduardo Mondlane University (she's a former Peace Corps gal). It's so nice to have another American to click with. I know I didn't come to Mozambique to find other Americans to buddy up with. I am very conscious of trying to befriend a wide variety of people. It is just really hard with the other teachers at the project because, well, they're very distant. The other teachers don't even seem to hang out with each other very much. Anyhow... We just came back from a really nice dinner at a fancy restaurant in town where we met Akeisha's British friend Wendy, also very nice. It looks as though we are expanding our network. It's so nice to once again have a group of friends to do things with.

Muito Doente

Sickness is common here and happens often. The teachers and the students are always sick. This morning, we got word that our cleaning lady was sick with Malaria. Tracy was sick yesterday and still is. This morning, I woke up feeling really groggy and by noon I had a fever and a sore throat. It is no fun to be sick here. It's already so hot and I've been feverish and uncomfortable all day. I'll break into a cold sweat and then a fever sweat and then I'll be exhausted and so thirsty. It is hard to take care of yourself without running water, let alone if you're sick. I have to walk to the well, fill my bucket with water, carry it home, boil the water, wait for it to cool then drink and all I really want to do is pass out. We're going to get tested for Malaria tomorrow but I don't think we have it. Something is going around that feels like strep, I'll know tomorrow.

The bugs are driving me completely crazy. Last night I was in the dining room writing and I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see an enormous spider the size of my hand. The spider was flat to the ground and as soon as I jumped on my chair, it literally inflated before my horrified eyes and began to sprint in erratic circles and zig-zags across the floor. Tracy was in bed sick so she couldn't help me (she's not afraid of spiders). I jumped across the room and locked myself in my bedroom for the night. It was 7:30 pm and I wasn't tired and I had to go to the bathroom but I wasn't going back out there, so I hid beneath my mosquito net and fought off the images of spiders feasting on my sleeping body.

It was one of those "why am I here?" moments. Moments that come and go, but when they come, it's difficult to pick up and move on.

And now I'm sick and sweating out all of my fluids, despite the fact that this is one of the coolest and breeziest nights we've had so far.

This is the rhythm of life here. Appreciate the upswings, the good days to your fullest. This is something the people here seem to do very well.

Machamba means garden

I am very frustrated because I haven't taught any classes yet. I was supposed to begin teaching on Thursday but it didn't work out. There was some sort of a schedule mix-up? Thank goodness I have the garden project to keep me busy and focused. Yesterday we were up at five. It had rained during the night so the earth was so cool, moist and fragrant. There's something infinitely relaxing about getting down on your hands and knees to work with the earth as the sun rises. It's like an active meditation. I truly appreciate the instant gratification that goes along with manual labor.

Other than than working on the machamba (garden), I've been doing the usual (sitting in the office and practicing my Portuguese while writing these posts).

I have mastered the art of hacking into a coconut with a machete. I'm now addicted to coconuts. They are my new favorite. I still can't fetch water at the well very effectively. My bucket is always an eighth full. I'm not catching on to this art form at all, but I'm hopeful that soon I will be able to fetch water like an old pro.

The Incredible Rotating Rash

I've developed an incredible rotating rash. I have no idea what my problem is. I just got over my sprained foot and am walking upright like a homo erectus once again. Now I have this weird rash on both of my wrists and shoulders. Sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's on one wrist and sometimes it's on both. I don't know if I'm allergic to something or if it's heat related. It doesn't itch, I'm just slowly falling apart.

Suddenly, I am a tall woman

Mozambicans tend to be on the short side and slender. I'm 5'6" and I feel like a tree stump sometimes in the U.S. but here, I am the height of an average man, or a little bit taller. t's like when I was in Thailand where everyone was for the most part tiny tiny tiny. I get so claustrophobic in my bathroom shower hut because the thatched roof is only three inches from the top of my head and it's teeming with giant spiders and roaches. Way too close for comfort.

Observations on a Tuesday

There are days when I feel like I am making great progress, when I feel I understand Portuguese. Then there are days when it seems I am taking two giant leaps backwards and I can't understand anything. Language is so frustrating. Today, I actually understood what Clara my native Spanish speaker, Portuguese as a second language assistant project leader said. I will consider that progress. Things are going well. I have a teaching assignment. I'm scheduled to teach a level two (intermediate) English class twice a week. I am slated to teach on Thursday mornings and Monday evenings. I've been planning my courses all morning. It's nice to be working towards something productive.

Speaking of productive, we were up at 5:15 this morning because we are helping out with an agricultural project. We were out in the fields digging 40cm x40cm trenches and weeding. It wasn't bad because it's really pleasant in the mornings temperature-wise. Waking up early is not a problem because the sun rises here at around 4:45am and my room faces the rising sun so when the sun makes and appearance, so do I.

I had papaya and plain yogurt for breakfast. It's my new favorite breakfast combination. I love the fruit here it's so much better than the fruit in the United States, and I'm not just talking about standard pesticide enriched grocery store produce, it's so much better than the "organic farm fresh" fruit in the United States. Eating fruit is like using your taste buds for the first time. So so so good!

Yesterday we went to Maxixe. (We, meaning Tracy and myself). Maxixe is a town on the mainland that has cheap goods because it is not nearly as touristy as Inhambane. To get to Maxixe we had to take a 30 minute ferry. Our ferry literally looked and felt ( I imagine) like a refugee boat of the sort that wash up on the coast of Florida. I've never seen so many people crammed into a tiny wobbly boat. The ride though, was beautiful. Maxixe is very Mediterranean in it's aesthetics. There were very few tourists here and the central market was crazy. There were so many twists and turns and items to choose from. Someone stole my sunglasses, but they were only a dollar so I'm over it. I purchased two capolana's (large pieces of colorful printed fabric). I'm going to have one turned into a bag so I don't have to carry my backpack and get robbed.

We spent the entire day exploring Maxixe. I was happy to bop back across the Indian Ocean to my beautiful Inhambane though. Inhambane is much more beautiful than Maxixe and it's definitely beginning to feel like home sweet home.

The night sky here is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I can literally see the milky way and constellations, so many stars that go on forever. There are no tall buildings to block the landscape, everything is open. One of my favorite modes of transportation is in the back of a truck at night, cruising the open road, staring into the sky.

Someone asked me via email about the people in Mozambique. Mozambique is an absolutely huge country, so I can only speak to what I know of the rural people in Inhambane province. And please take this for what it is, my opinion and my opinion only, which is not the same as truth.

The people here are interesting. Upon first meeting, you think wow, Mozambicans are the friendliest people ever and they are friendly. There are some characteristics though that can get to be annoying. There is no personal space here. Some people (not all) will literally talk to you one inch from your face and as a Westerner, I find it so off-putting. It is perfectly acceptable to publicly pick your nose. And I don't mean pick, I mean dig. Some men feel as though they can flirt openly with Western women and have no problem grabbing your hand or touching you. I can't even count how many sweaty hands i've wriggled my hand out of and how many men i've almost kneed in the you know what for touching me. It is however, not everyone. The men from the city have this train of thought more commonly than the villagers. Mozambicans who live in touristy areas, don't seem to have this trait at all.

Everyone talks about everyone, people know who I am and where I'm from and what my name is and I've never even been introduced to them or seen them before. It was nice at first but it gets annoying because I'm trying to get from point a to point b (such a horrible Western mentality, I know, but I am after all a New Yorker!) and people will want to talk and I don't know them and then there's a group and I just need to continue on my way and I can't even have a real conversation because I don't speak Portuguese well and they don't speak English and inevitably they ask for money which I'm not dolling out so it gets weird. Also, the teachers at ADPP aren't very friendly, especially the women. We smile and greet everyone and they just look at us, it's very awkward at times.

One of the project leaders who is from Columbia (an outsider her self) said that it could be a result of the Civil War. During the war, people between 20-50 were targeted and killed, that left the very young and the very old to fend for themselves. This being said, there was not a lot of time for conversation and pleasantries, so the people who are now 20-30, were children then and they are not particularly friendly. I don't know if this truly is the case, but it's a good consideration. Many of the teachers are also very intimidated by us. We try to make suggestions and we are laughed at or ignored. It's frustrating, but they don't want to change from what they know (I mean who does). The professors here basically have only had a seventh grade education, have completed the teacher training college for two and a half years and then have taught for a year and now they teach other teachers to teach. That of course would never fly in the West and it's off-putting for them I'm sure to have these people come over who have taught for several years, who have master's degrees, who tell them how to change what they've been taught to do. Teachers will literally get upset if a student asks a question that they don't know the answer to because it makes them look bad, but the problem with that is you're limiting the curiosity of the students. Students are being conditioned not to ask questions and there are so many things that the teachers actually don't know because they are basically asking their students to memorize things that they themselves had been trained to memorize but could never explain. I'm sure we seem like a bunch of progressive freaks when we suggest group work or having students sit in circles or in clusters. So bottom line, there is a culture clash and it's difficult to penetrate especially when the language skills are not there. But I will do what I can to demonstrate and serve as an example. It's like pulling teeth sometimes to get the students to admit that they don't know something. Unlike their Mozambican teachers, I'm always asking them if they have any questions, if I can give another example, and if I can demonstrate something differently. So hopefully they will learn to do the same with their young pupils. Though I'm sure it will take more than six months of my efforts to put that change into motion.

The male teachers talk down to us which drives me crazy because I can't take any of them seriously as teachers because they don't do anything so I'm sure they think I have an attitude problem because they are not at all used to assertive women and I have no problem letting them know that I do not agree with them. So the crazy dance goes...

People here are very trusting which is refreshing. The village people are extremely sweet and always return greetings. People from the city are different, which is the case all over the world it seems.

Mozambique is very diverse. There are many Indians (brought in to work the railroads), Chinese (brought in to work the railroads), Portuguese (old colonial families)and South Africans- Afrikaans (white business owners/beach front property owners). It's interesting. Many Mozambicans are still being taken advantage of in their country which I guess I already knew because if they weren't I wouldn't need to be here. It's one thing to know, but it's another thing entirely to experience. The white South Africans for the most part are so disrespectful towards the native Mozambicans. They will set up businesses in their country, buy property in their country and will refuse to do business with the locals and will do everything in their power to price out the locals (which isn't difficult), the white South African mentality is in my opinion absolutely disgusting. I'm waiting to encounter one who will change my opinion. It hasn't happened yet but I'm open.

The Chinese keep to themselves as they do in many other countries and seem to work in construction.

Indian families also keep to themselves and like in most other countries, they own most of the shops and businesses and here they tend to be pretty well off.

The old colonial Portuguese families are very proud of being Mozambican and will say, I am Mozambican, my family has been here for seven generations. They seem to be the wealthiest and they are mostly in the large cities. They own businesses, and basically seem to run things still, even though "technically" the power has been handed over to the hands of the Mozambican people. I said Mozambique was diverse, I didn't say it was integrated. This is one of the most segregated places I've seen. It's very similar to South Africa in that way. In fact, many South Africans will make comments to the extent of "Wow, Mozambique is amazing, it's like how South Africa used to be!"- Meaning, pre-apartheid. Gotta love em!

Despite all of the problems, I believe progress is being made. Slowly, progress is being made. There are a handful of wealthy native Mozambicans who are doing well. I think tourism is going to pick up in the next few years and the economy should boom as a result. I just hope the people, the indigenous Mozambicans, get to reap the benefits of their land and resources. Time will only tell...

The Bugs Are Everywhere!

RED ALERT:It's gigantic hairy spider season! Really!!

They congregate in our outdoor bathroom hut. Everytime I have to go to the bathroom (usually at night) I see them. Tarantulas, and giant stick-like spiders. It's horrifying. I just don't know what to say. I seriously have bathroom-a-phobia. I'm probably going to get a bladder infection because now, I won't even go to the bathroom after dark. My only saving grace is if I am in town or at the beach and I can use one of the nice bathrooms at a restaurant. Not only are there spiders but there are enormous flying cockroaches/waterbugs whatever you want to call them, they are there and they fly at you.

To further complicate matters, I have a huge hornets nest outside of my window and everyday there are hornets in my room. Only my room. I hate it. I absolutely abhor this situation. I loathe...with a capitol L! I can't get a moments peace from the bugs. I keep coaxing my poor teenage neighbor Bellview to kill my hornets with a broom. I do this in exchange for 30 minute English lessons. Yes, my desperation has gotten to this point, I am bartering English for extermination services.

Today, we had an assembly as we do every Friday morning. It was horrible. The assembly is in a large hut and hornets were flying in through the open windows. There were like ten hornets dancing in front of my face. It took every inch of restraint in my body not to scream or twitch. I did twitch though. The students were singing the Mozambican national anthem (which is the longest anthem, I am convinced in the world) and I was twitching and batting away bees.

I just don't know...

Anyhow, I am almost finished with my first full week at work. Our week-day is Monday through Saturday. Things have gotten better. I substitute taught for one of the teachers yesterday. I taught an English class where we learned about domestic vs. wild animals. I taught the students "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" and they really got into it and I encouraged them to use the same song with their young students that they will be teaching as a way to introduce domestic farm animals. It looks like I may, if I'm lucky get my own English class next week.

I have a presentation to give about myself tonight in Portuguese. I'm so nervous to speak in Portuguese about myself for 30 minutes. I keep confusing my verb tenses and my conjugation is skewed. I've got the basic vocabulary but everything else is tragic.

Well I've got to go, it's lunch time. Fish heads and rice today.

Portuguese, nao problema!

My presentation this evening was a smashing success (my opinion)! Really, it wasn't bad. I think I've got the hang of this Portuguese language thing- as long as I have a paper in front of me to read the pre-planned words off of that is. I'm actually surprisingly good at writing in Portuguese, it's the act of speaking and understanding that stumps me.

The students laughed at my jokes and I was able to put my goofy personality on display. At the end there was a question and answer segment and of course all they asked was how old I was and if I was single. It was funny. I was surprised though because two students did come up to me afterwards to see if they could read some of my writing; too bad I left the book I published at home along with my article and all of the drafts of my fiction pieces. So I guess I'll have to write some new things.

Also, as a result of my presentation, my project leader asked if I would be interested in forming a drama/theatare group. OF COURSE!!!!!! That's exactly what I wanted to do in the first place. I just wish my Portuguese were oh let's say 100 times better so that I could be more effective. I could get by at first I suppose by writing my lessons and reading them and getting the students who speak English well to help me translate the other student's questions.

I'm so excited. It looks like there will be lights, cameras and social-action in Mozambique after all!

Day Number One on the Job

It is so hot in the teacher's office where I am resigned to spend my entire day. I spent my morning preparing a 30 minute presentation about myself and my educational background that I am to present to the staff and other teachers on Friday evening.

I am somewhat disappointed. They really don't have anything for me to do here right now. I'm just at a desk studying my Portuguese/English dictionary and flash cards. The school runs very well and all of the students are in class with their teachers. Tracy and I have absolutely nothing to do and we're not allowed to go anywhere. I was supposed to have a meeting a few hours ago, but the person never appeared, or maybe according to Mozambican time, just hasn't shown up yet.

Two more hours and my shift is up. Hopefully tomorrow will be (I'd say more productive, but let's just call it what it is) productive.

I heart Inhambane

I arrived in Inhambane on Thursday and it is one of the most beautiful places I've ever encountered. I've been fortunate to have seen a lot of beautiful places in this world, and I know this is completely subjective, but Inhambane is truly very magical. I'm right on the Indian Ocean. The weather is obviously warm but not humid (which I am grateful for - let's keep that ocean breeze a commin'). The malaria risk is very low. The landscape is breathtaking. There are so many intriguing plants which are the most astonishing vivid colors. So many glorious shades of green. I'll see pine trees, next to flowering cactus plants, next to exotic waxy leafy plants, it seems so random.

We are surrounded by water. The bay of Inhambane meets us in the town square and then about 30 minutes out of town is the beach. I'm talking resort style, secluded, fluffy pure sand, and warm, clear, gentle water. Everything is so clean and nice. There are tourists on the beach strip but it's not overdone, the natural beauty is completely preserved. Most of the tourists come from South Africa.

In Inhambane, we have access to excellent night life and wonderful restaurants as a result of the tourism. Today, we went to the beach and I had lemon sugar crepes for breakfast with guava juice and for lunch, curried sweet potato and shrimp in a coconut sauce. So cheap and so fresh. And to think I was preparing to eat rice and beans everyday for every meal. I truly can't believe my luck.

I haven't started working yet because I arrived on a Friday night. I begin tomorrow, so up until now, this has been a vacation and I've soaked in every second.

I went to ADPP (the school where I will be working) on Saturday to tour the facility and meet the staff. Everyone seems nice. The teacher training college is beautiful. The facility is brand new having only been built in 2006. The student's dorm rooms are immaculate and the bathrooms pristine. Much better conditions than I had on the Mountain in Massachusetts.

One of the students even took me on a tour of Inhambane City, which is small and charming. He was very patient with my Portuguese, I hope all the students are this patient. Many of the people here actually speak English to my disappointment because they want to practice and once they hear my accent they try to speak to me in English. And it is great practice for them, but I need to practice my Portuguese so they are speaking to me in broken English and I'm speaking to them in broken Portuguese and somehow we communicate.

Let's see, my living conditions. I live in a four bedroom house with one other Development Instructor, my lovely friend Tracy. I'm so glad we were placed together because we both trained on the mountain in Massachusetts, we get along really well and have a lot in common, such as spontaneously breaking out into songs from Broadway musicals and a love for literature and writing.

Our house is simple but nice. I have my own room with a bed, dresser and desk. We have a kitchen and a living room and a porch with chairs. We've got a crazy cat named freaky who is the loudest cat I've ever heard. She screams all day long, but she's cute so she is accommodated. The only drawback, no running water and bathrooms outside.

I've already seen my first tarantula in our outhouse. We have a hole in the ground with two posts for the feet and you just stand there and let it rip!

We have another hut that is our shower hut. You have to retrieve water from the well, pour it into the bucket and ladle yourself clean. It's not bad actually and it's easy. I shower about three times a day (it's so hot) and I've already gotten used to it. The best is showering outside late at night. There is nothing like the sky over Inhambane. There are so many stars here on a moon free night.

We have a really sweet cleaning lady and cook named Jaqueline who does our laundry everyday, keeps us with a steady supply of pure water, cooks our dinners and cleans our house. It was weird at first to have someone clean and do things for me, but she's very insistent and Tracy and I have no clue how to prepare food here or how to effectively hand wash our clothes (I take care of the small things like bras and underwear) so it really is all for the best and she gets paid really well.

Speaking of preparing food. I went to the market to buy Mangos yesterday and it took me almost thirty minutes to cut into my mango. I was cutting and slicing. In the end it looked like a drunken tic tack toe board. I started prying the pieces apart with my pocket knife. I'm surprised I didn't lose a finger.

The fruit here is sooooooooooooooo good. We have papaya and mango and guava and bananas and much more as well as vegetables of all kinds. The land is very fertile. Then there are the gifts from the sea.

The Harrowing Trek from Maputo to Inhambane

After two days in Maputo, filling out paperwork and acclimating ourselves, it was time for us all to disperse to our various placement sites. Tamika and I would be parting here, her site was Maputo. I would be heading North about four or five hours to Inhambane. Sergio, another Development Instructor and I, were told to be ready for a cab to pick us up at the gates of the ADPP office at 430 am. We didn't get any sleep the night before because there was no point. We got ready, and were on the porch by 4:15am waiting. Somehow we managed to lock ourselves out of the house but we figured it didn't matter because we'd be catching a taxi soon. So we waited and waited. Mosquitos were eating us alive, bats swirling overhead, frogs singing in the tall grass. We see the sun rise and we see people emerge from their respective homes. The stupid taxi didn't arrive until 7am. We were so mad. Sergio missed his time frame to catch his bus to Namantanda and couldn't go so I had to go with the taxi driver alone because I still had time to catch mine.

Mind you I don't speak Portuguese well and the driver didn't speak English well either. I told him to take me to the bus station, but he took me to the chapa station. I of course didn't know this at the time. If you remember, chapa's are the cargo vans converted into sardine cans full of people and are in terrible working condition. So we get out of the taxi in the busy chapa station and right away two men come up to the driver who was carrying my huge 90 plus pound suitcase and began to pull it away from him. I join my driver and grab on and we're all pulling and tugging. I couldn't believe they were trying to rob me. I was so angry. I started screaming at them in English which caused more chaos. I'm not sure what happened next but the two men who where trying to steal my bag started fighting with each other. My driver began to run with my bag on his head and I followed. He passed my bag to another man who carried it on his head and loaded it somehow into a crowded chapa. I thanked my driver and got on the chapa. It was full. There were like eleven people plus bags and livestock and crates. I had to sit in the seat on the hump of the wheel so my knees were to my chin. I had to balance my 30 plus pounds of carry on luggage in my lap. Behind me was a crate of fish that smelled rancid. I was so upset, I was ready to kill someone. We would drive and stop and let more people on. I could't believe it. People were on top of each other. Some were standing and crouching with their butts in peoples faces. It was horrible. Everytime we stopped, children and women selling things would come to the windows, open them from the outside and cram goods in my face while sweaty arms reached over me to pay. It was hellish.

I didn't go to the bathroom, eat or drink all day. Remember, I'd been sitting locked outside since 4:15 am that morning.

All I could do was sleep and stare out of the window.

Eventually though, as we got farther away from the city, my view became more and more beautiful. By the time I was in Inhambane, ten hours later, I was calm and excited. I was also extremely hungry and thirsty and tired and in need of a shower and in need of a bed. But what doesn't kill you will make you stronger.

I am in Mozambique!

We arrived yesterday morning after a long, long, long journey.

My travels began on Sunday, Feb 17th at 6:30 am, when I left my friend Krista´s Manhattan apartment dragging almost 90 pounds of luggage onto the subway. That in and of itself was an adventure. I somehow managed to twist my ankle going out in the East Village to celebrate my last night a few hours prior. I only had flip flops to wear and I was pulling my overstuffed pink suitcase on ice.

I met Makiko at JFK airport, where we waited for our slightly delayed flight and flew to Washington, DC. In Washington D.C., after a six hour layover, we met Tamika and flew 16 hours to Johannesburg. The flight was sooooooooo long and I was already tired and exhausted. My irresponsibly sprained foot, souvenir of my last night in New York began to swell and throb. I'm still walking with a limp.

Makiko, Tamika and I were all seated apart from each other in different sections of the plane. I spent 16 hous squashed against a window, next to a large ex-marine who karate chopped me while he was asleep. I did however, get to watch two movies that I had missed while living on the mountain, ATTONEMENT and DARJEELING UNLIMITED, both very entertaining.

South Africa was fantastic once we finally landed. Okay, so the airport in South Africa was fantastic, that is. We had a 10 hour wait before our bus ride to Maputo (are you keeping track of the time? It was the longest trip ever). We met up with Rodrigo and Sergio in the airport food court and took shifts watching each others bags so that we could explore the airport and its periphery in groups. IICD instilled the fear of God in us when talking about Johannesburg. All we heard on the mountain was "Now be careful, it's the most dangerous city in the world!", " Development Instructors have been robbed of all of their possessions in Johannesburg, be careful and don't leave the airport".

After sitting on a plane for hours and hours and waiting for hours, I wasn't about to do it again in a stuffy airport, so Tamika and I left and everything was fine.  It was in the middle of the afternoon. We ventured outside for a walk and then we went further and further. The city was very familiar, very western. We experienced our first bursts of warm air here. There were times I forgot I was in South Africa until I'd look out the taxi window and see a palm tree or a baobab dotting the median in the highway. We did almost get run down in the middle of the street, because they drive on the left side of the street, very confusing to curious Americans. Anyhow, after exploring and eating, we were off.

We took a bus from Johannesburg to Maputo. This was truly the worst ride of my life. The moment we entered the double-decked bus, the humidity weighed down upon us. We were the last people to enter the bus (late due to our exploring) and we couldn´t sit together. I was stuck sitting next to a European backpacker who smelled like he hadn´t showered in months. This guy had the longest legs ever and took up 3/4´s of the seat. It was agony. The ride began at 10pm, so it was dark and I was straining to make out the shadows of mountains and rivers but I couldn't see anything concrete. The bus also didn't stop. Not once! We did stop around 5am at the Mozambican border only to learn that it was closed until 6am. So we sat and we simmered and we festered and this was how I caught my first Mozambican sunrise. It was beautiful . An hour later at six we were herded off the bus in the most disorganized fashion possible. So much for lines, and order? We were pushed through customs in a stream of people, paid our visa taxes and before we could get back on the bus had to wait for an hour outside in the blazing heat as the customs people went through our bags one by one. Once this was over, we were back on the bus for two more hours. When we reached Maputo, we jumped off, grabbed a pick-up truck cab, rode in the back hatch with our luggage and saw the city for the first time.

Maputo is the capital of Mozambique and it´s enormous. There are areas that are extremely wealthy and beautiful and there are areas of extreme poverty. We had a thirty minute ride. Nobody fell out of the truck and we arrived at ADPP Mozambique unharmed.