for anyone who's interested, I'm sorting through and putting the best pictures of the trip in a set on my flickr account (I am still figuring out exactly how it works):
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jjwalsh3/sets/72157627484002383/
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
27-29/07/11
Peter drove us to the bus station early that morning, but not before one last stop at McDonald’s. The trip to Maputo was long but uneventful and once we arrived we took a chapa to the USAID compound where Erin and I were staying at Polly and Moha’s. Originally we were only going to stay a night, but then Erin learned her best friend from her PCV group was going to be traveling through Maputo and so we decided to stay another day so Erin could meet up with her. I took advantage of the extra day to go by the immigration office and ask some questions about renewing my visa. We had already split up with Scooter and Ann as they would be spending the next week running the REDES conference.
Erin and I left on the third day, taking a chapa to the egde of the city and then hitchhiking from there. The first ride we got was great: a fast, nice, air conditioned car, with a Mozambican driver who had lived in South Africa for some time and so spoke very good English. We talked about politics and then listened to some of his music: American hip hop, but way before our time and he was disappointed when we barely recognized any of it. He took us to Xai-Xai and from there we got a second, much quieter ride with an Asian couple.
When I arrived back at the mission, it seemed completely deserted. It was the middle of a two week holiday so no students were at the school and all the orphans had gone to live with whatever relatives they had elsewhere. And Scooter was gone.
Erin and I left on the third day, taking a chapa to the egde of the city and then hitchhiking from there. The first ride we got was great: a fast, nice, air conditioned car, with a Mozambican driver who had lived in South Africa for some time and so spoke very good English. We talked about politics and then listened to some of his music: American hip hop, but way before our time and he was disappointed when we barely recognized any of it. He took us to Xai-Xai and from there we got a second, much quieter ride with an Asian couple.
When I arrived back at the mission, it seemed completely deserted. It was the middle of a two week holiday so no students were at the school and all the orphans had gone to live with whatever relatives they had elsewhere. And Scooter was gone.
26/07/11: Day 10 in Cape Town and Traveling to Joburg
It was pretty depressing as we spent the last morning in Cape Town slowly packing up our things and saying goodbye to a hostel that had come to feel very much like home over the past few days. Even the backpackers felt empty though, with all of the friends we had made already left. For breakfast we finished up any leftover food from all the groceries we had bought at the beginning of the trip and then for lunch we went to a Japanese restaurant from which the taxi picked us up and took us to the airport.
A smooth slight and a short wait in the Johannesburg airport later, a man from the hostel we would be staying overnight at picked us up and took us to the mall where John and Yvette would be picking us up again for dinner. In case there was any question of whether we were in Joburg or not, during our wait at the mall we managed to see a guy get arrested for robbing a store, the police handcuffing him to a shopping cart before taking them away.
John and Yvette took us to their friends’ house where we were gracious welcomed. We ate delicious butternut squash soup, vegetable lasagna, and baked apples and met Jesse Eyesensnorts, their cute rescue pug named for his cartoonish, bulging eyes and characteristic sniffles.
A smooth slight and a short wait in the Johannesburg airport later, a man from the hostel we would be staying overnight at picked us up and took us to the mall where John and Yvette would be picking us up again for dinner. In case there was any question of whether we were in Joburg or not, during our wait at the mall we managed to see a guy get arrested for robbing a store, the police handcuffing him to a shopping cart before taking them away.
John and Yvette took us to their friends’ house where we were gracious welcomed. We ate delicious butternut squash soup, vegetable lasagna, and baked apples and met Jesse Eyesensnorts, their cute rescue pug named for his cartoonish, bulging eyes and characteristic sniffles.
25/07/11: Day 9 in Cape Town: the Wine Tour
Paul, Carlos, and Samir were all headed out that morning so we said our goodbyes before we left on the tour. The tour guide picked us up right outside the backpackers and took us directly to the first vineyards. We had managed to convince Patrick and Dennis spend their last day on the tour with us rather than hiking up Table Mountain as, with the vicious winds that had been buffeting the city and the clouds that had been covering the plateau top over the last few days, they were liable to get blown off the mountain and wouldn’t be able to see anything even if they made it to the top. We turned out to be right; the countryside vineyard gave us a spectacular view of the city and mountain which was still capped in cloud.
For the tour, two South African tour guides took us and another group or tourists by five vineyards over the course of the day, teaching us about the history of the South African wine industry and how one properly samples wine with the 5 S’s (Sight, Smell, Sip, Savor, and something else).
It was at the third stop that the estate owner commented on Scooter, Erin, and Ann’s matching purple scarves that they had purchased earlier that week, asking if they were some sort of team. “Yeah,” responded a slightly buzzed Scooter, “Team Awesome.” “That’s such an American response,” he replied.
After a full day of sampling wine, our tour guides gave us a short quiz on wine industry trivia we had supposedly picked up on the tour. But while Patrick and Dennis got our team quite a few points for creativity, it was the other group that won the bottle of wine.
For the tour, two South African tour guides took us and another group or tourists by five vineyards over the course of the day, teaching us about the history of the South African wine industry and how one properly samples wine with the 5 S’s (Sight, Smell, Sip, Savor, and something else).
It was at the third stop that the estate owner commented on Scooter, Erin, and Ann’s matching purple scarves that they had purchased earlier that week, asking if they were some sort of team. “Yeah,” responded a slightly buzzed Scooter, “Team Awesome.” “That’s such an American response,” he replied.
After a full day of sampling wine, our tour guides gave us a short quiz on wine industry trivia we had supposedly picked up on the tour. But while Patrick and Dennis got our team quite a few points for creativity, it was the other group that won the bottle of wine.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
24/07/2011: Day 8 in Cape Town
Scooter and I tried going to church that morning, but the church she had thought to be Catholic turned out to be Anglican. While searching for another church, a window shattered some 10 stories up casting broken glass into the street, not far from where we were standing and apparently caused by nothing but the powerful winds that were blowing through the city. Later we asked a taxi driver if such an occurrence was common and he replied that, in fact, it was.
We spent the day "restaurant hopping" going from Thai for lunch, to another place with Belgium beer on tap, to Korean for dinner.
We spent the day "restaurant hopping" going from Thai for lunch, to another place with Belgium beer on tap, to Korean for dinner.
23/07/2011: Day 7 in Cape Town: The Old Biscuit Mill and the District 6 Museum
Saturday we went to the weekly "Neighbor-Goods" market at the Old Biscuit Mill. If you ever go to Cape Town, it is definitely worth planning your trip around this market that occurs every Saturday. There was every kind of food and delicacy you could imagine from pastries to samosas to pizzas to jars of different pestos to breads to poached eggs and on and on it went. Following the advice of a friend, we made sure to walk through the entire market at least once before we allowed ourselves to buy anything. It was a smart move or we could have easily spent all of our money in the first twenty feet.
Afterward we went to District 6 museum which was incredibly interesting. Unfortunately we were still battling sleep deprivation from the last few nights and the having just ate tons of delicious food didn't help matters.
Hostels and backpackers are the perfect places to meet new people and that night we made several more friends: Samir (who Carlos originally mistook for Paul), a French/Tunisian traveler who had been on a bike trip in Namibia before he was impeded by a leg injury and hitchhiked to Cape Town, Carmen, a German woman teaching primary school classes in Cape Town for 6-8 weeks, and Dennis and Patrick, a pair of Harvard students coaching basketball for a kid's special olympics in Joburg and taking a brief vacation in Cape Town.
Afterward we went to District 6 museum which was incredibly interesting. Unfortunately we were still battling sleep deprivation from the last few nights and the having just ate tons of delicious food didn't help matters.
Hostels and backpackers are the perfect places to meet new people and that night we made several more friends: Samir (who Carlos originally mistook for Paul), a French/Tunisian traveler who had been on a bike trip in Namibia before he was impeded by a leg injury and hitchhiked to Cape Town, Carmen, a German woman teaching primary school classes in Cape Town for 6-8 weeks, and Dennis and Patrick, a pair of Harvard students coaching basketball for a kid's special olympics in Joburg and taking a brief vacation in Cape Town.
22/07/2011: Day 6 in Cape Town: Robben Island
That morning we took a taxi to the waterfront where we boarded a ferry for Robben Island. As the ferry pulled out of the harbor, we got a spectacular view of the city, sitting in the lap of Table Mountain which was currently covered on top by a strange, isloated layer of cloud that we learned was referred to as the "Table Cloth". Once we arrived on the island, we boarded tour buses which took around the small island, showing the different sites including the prisons, the lime stone quarry, and the modern day village. After that part of the tour was done, we were shown through the prisons by ex-prisoner who had spent 5 years on the island in the late 70's. The tour was concluded by passing Nelson Mandela's solitary cell.
When we got back we had the afternoon to kill and spent it doing something the girls hadn't done in ages: going to the mall. We happened to run into Paul and Carlos in a toy store who were buying gifts for children back at their site. They were able to direct us towards the movie theatre which we headed to promptly. On our way, we were accosted by an enthusiastic Billabong sales man who promised a to do back flip if we checked out the big sale the store was having. A few days ago, this guy might have seemed over the top, but after hanging out with Michael, he was absolutely tame in comparison.
That night there was a reggae party on the roof but we were all way to worn out to go.
When we got back we had the afternoon to kill and spent it doing something the girls hadn't done in ages: going to the mall. We happened to run into Paul and Carlos in a toy store who were buying gifts for children back at their site. They were able to direct us towards the movie theatre which we headed to promptly. On our way, we were accosted by an enthusiastic Billabong sales man who promised a to do back flip if we checked out the big sale the store was having. A few days ago, this guy might have seemed over the top, but after hanging out with Michael, he was absolutely tame in comparison.
That night there was a reggae party on the roof but we were all way to worn out to go.
21/07/2011: Day 5 in Cape Town: Penthouse on Long Backpackers
After a wonderfully greasy breakfast of McDonald's, we checked out of the apartment and walked down Long Street to Penthouse-on-Long Backpackers, the next place we were staying. It turned out to be a really cool place located on the top floor of a building right next to an African Crafts market which we returned to after checking in and dropping our stuff off.
For dinner that night we made a salad with the vegetables we had left from our shopping excursion, and some pizza from a nearby restaurant. Exhausted from the previous night, the plan was to eat, get into pj's, and maybe watch some TV shows before retiring to bed early. But sometimes there are forces of the universe that intervene, and in this case the force's name was Michael. Michael worked at the backpackers and was indiscriminately/overwhelmingly if not aggressively friendly to everyone who passed through. A loud, eccentric combination of a 25/5 year old, he had a strong affinity for slapping his butt and humping (usually inanimate) objects. But like I said, he was very friendly and convinced us to at least come up to the bar on the roof for a bit which, after reasoning that we should get to know people at the place we'd be staying for the next several days, we did. It turned out to be a good idea and we made quite a few friends that night including Chaz, a Filipino chef from Australia and Carlos and Paul, two PCV's from Cameroon.
Anyways, just going to the bar on the roof eventually turned into all of us going out and exploring Cape Town night life. Jason, the bartender, went, partly for fun, partly to chaperon Michael; a full time job in of itself.
For dinner that night we made a salad with the vegetables we had left from our shopping excursion, and some pizza from a nearby restaurant. Exhausted from the previous night, the plan was to eat, get into pj's, and maybe watch some TV shows before retiring to bed early. But sometimes there are forces of the universe that intervene, and in this case the force's name was Michael. Michael worked at the backpackers and was indiscriminately/overwhelmingly if not aggressively friendly to everyone who passed through. A loud, eccentric combination of a 25/5 year old, he had a strong affinity for slapping his butt and humping (usually inanimate) objects. But like I said, he was very friendly and convinced us to at least come up to the bar on the roof for a bit which, after reasoning that we should get to know people at the place we'd be staying for the next several days, we did. It turned out to be a good idea and we made quite a few friends that night including Chaz, a Filipino chef from Australia and Carlos and Paul, two PCV's from Cameroon.
Anyways, just going to the bar on the roof eventually turned into all of us going out and exploring Cape Town night life. Jason, the bartender, went, partly for fun, partly to chaperon Michael; a full time job in of itself.
20/07/2011: Day 4 in Cape Town
That morning, Scooter and Ann went to take the GMAT and Erin and I went to the Mozambican embassy to get her visa renewed. Having spent the last few weeks doing nothing but study for this exam, it's completion alone was a major cause for celebration so after they got back we went out and hit the town...eventually. Traveling with three PCV girls is awesome because a) they're experienced and capable travelers, b)they're incredibly organized, and c) they never finish all their food so there's more for me to eat. If there's one downside however, it would be this: they can take forever to get ready. By the time we finally got out of the apartment and went to one a recommended bar only a few doors down, happy hour was already over. Nevertheless, we had a great time that night, a large part of that due to Wednesday nights at this bar happening to be Karaoke night.
19/07/2011: Day 3 in Cape Town
While Ann and Scooter continued to study, I used Ann's mac to sort through my photos and work on blogging (though even at that point I was behind). Erin made a spectacular dinner that night: breaded chicken, steamed and buttered vegetables, baked potatoes, and an ice cream oreo pie for dessert.
18/07/2011: Day 2 in Cape Town: Nelson Mandela Day
Scooter and Ann needed to study for the upcoming test, so Erin and I spent the morning walking down Long street, browsing through antique shops and books stores. The owner of one told us that it was Nelson Mandela's birthday (he turned 93) and many people were commemorating the even by doing 67 minutes of community service for the 67 years Mandela devoted to the struggle for humanity.
By the afternoon, Scooter and Ann had studied enough so we went grocery shopping, picking up food we'd need to make ourselves meals over the next few days. It was overwhelming being in a grocery store for the first time in ages with all the bright, colorful packaging filling the seemingly endless shelves.
By the afternoon, Scooter and Ann had studied enough so we went grocery shopping, picking up food we'd need to make ourselves meals over the next few days. It was overwhelming being in a grocery store for the first time in ages with all the bright, colorful packaging filling the seemingly endless shelves.
17/07/2011: Traveling to Cape Town part 2: Arrival and Table Mountain
My flight to Cape Town left an hour before the girls' so went to the airport earlier to catch my plane. On the flight over it was just me and a kid who looked about 12 in our aisle and after a while, we got talking. His name was Divon and he was an avid fan of Top Gear; he had several magazines and a sizable deck of cards and we spent a good part of the flight with him teaching me how to play. His family had originally lived in Johannesburg but when his parents divorced, his mother moved to Cape Town and since then, Divon had been traveling back to Johannesburg by himself to visit his dad every holiday. He was the first person I had met to have something negative to say about Cape Town: "it's fun at first, but then you do everything there is to do and it gets old." I asked him whether it was true that Cape Town was much safer than Johannesburg and he said of course and nonchalantly counted off the three times his house had gotten broken into in Joburg: a brick through the window, a child fed througha small opening and then unlocking the door from the inside, and a gun held to the maid who was forced to give up the keys. It's the way that locals (even a twelve year old) can talk about the crime in Joburg so casually that frightens me the most.
After the girls' flight got in, we took a taxi to the apartment where we would be staying the first few days until Scooter and Ann took their test. The logic was that, while the apartment was more expensive than the backpackers we'd be staying at later, it would be more private and quiet and better for preparing for the test). At the time however, it was hard to not wish we could afford to stay there the entire 10 days of our trip; it was a very nice apartment with prime location.
If you ever go to Cape Town, or even just google image it, the first thing you'll notice is the immense mesa in the middle of the city. Table Mountain is easily one of the major landmarks and tourist attractions of the city and recently there has been a push to vote one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. While the hiking trails would always be open, our trip happened to be timed so that the cable car would only be open on our very first day (after which they would close it for maintenance) so we decided to make our trip to the top the very afternoon we arrived. It was a truly awesome experience with breath taking views that my pictures simply won't do justice. We spent a good few hours traversing the different trails that wandered over the expansive flat top.
After the girls' flight got in, we took a taxi to the apartment where we would be staying the first few days until Scooter and Ann took their test. The logic was that, while the apartment was more expensive than the backpackers we'd be staying at later, it would be more private and quiet and better for preparing for the test). At the time however, it was hard to not wish we could afford to stay there the entire 10 days of our trip; it was a very nice apartment with prime location.
If you ever go to Cape Town, or even just google image it, the first thing you'll notice is the immense mesa in the middle of the city. Table Mountain is easily one of the major landmarks and tourist attractions of the city and recently there has been a push to vote one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. While the hiking trails would always be open, our trip happened to be timed so that the cable car would only be open on our very first day (after which they would close it for maintenance) so we decided to make our trip to the top the very afternoon we arrived. It was a truly awesome experience with breath taking views that my pictures simply won't do justice. We spent a good few hours traversing the different trails that wandered over the expansive flat top.
15-17/07/2011: Traveling to Cape Town part 1
So Scooter and Ann needed to take the GMAT (Graduate Management Admission Test - a standardized test used for applying to graduate business studies) for the academic plans they have for after their Peace Corps terms end, but the test isn't offered in Mozambique. So they decided to travel to and take the test in Cape Town and, while they're at it, make a two week trip out of it to tour the city. I was initially dreading this two week interval without my sister; it would've been good for me as far as forcing me to really work on my Portuguese and my relationship with the sisters without the constant help of my own American, English speaking sister, but it would also be difficult and lonely. Not to mention I felt like I'd be missing out; everyone we talked to had nothing but great things to say about Cape Town. Then, I was offered the option to go with them which I eagerly accepted. Erin, who also didn't need to take the GMAT, was going along for the ride as well.
We got up early Friday morning to begin our trip, but it was only a couple of hours of standing beside the high way later that we finally got a ride. (It might have been a long wait, but it was worth it to watch Ann yell at passing drivers with obviously enough room to accommodate us.) The driver was very friendly and took us as far as Xai-Xai, a little less than half way to Maputo, our destination for the day. Along the way we saw multiple rainbows, one continuing through the color spectrum twice with an additional full rainbow slightly above - a triple rainbow I guess. We hadn't even gotten out of our first ride in Xai-Xai when Scooter spotted our next potential ride, so while Ann and I collected our bags and thanked the first driver, Scooter had already run up to the window of the next car and secured us another ride. What initially seemed to be an awkward ride with two unfriendly South Africans turned out to be the best boleia ever - even topping the one we got back from Swaziland. Small talk gradually opened up into fascinating stories of how the driver, Willem (pronounced like "villain" with an "m" at the end), had traveled the world: all 50 states, all of Europe and good deal of other countries though he admitted to have never been to Antarctica. He had to make a two hour detour two check on the lodge he owned in Macaneta and offered to let us out so we could continue to hitchhike into Maputo, but we decided to just go with him and wait. His lodge was located on an island separated from the mainland by only about 400 meters of water, but with a slow moving ferry as the only means of crossing the channel, it was pretty isolated from civilization. The way he talked about interacting with the local community - with respect and concern for (or at least awareness of) the problems affecting it - he reminded us a lot of John and Yvett and the attitude they took to interacting with the local community. In any case, in was a refreshing relief from the much too common alternative of foreigners coming in and opening businesses with concerns only for the money they make and not the culture they might be disrupting or exploiting.
Scooter had been stressing out about not being able to purchase our bus tickets online, but this suddenly turned out to be a stroke of luck when Willem offered to take us all the way to Johannesburg, seeing as that's where they were headed the next day anyway. We happily agreed and set up a time and place to meet him in Maputo the next day to continue our journey.
While Scooter went to get some stuff taken care of for REDES, Ann, Erin, and I went to the USAID (United States Agency for International Development) compound to visit a family they had become close friends with and would be staying with that night. Polly and Mohamed are an amazing couple working in international development who have been all over the world together. They have three daughters, the older two (5 and 7) already being trilingual (the youngest is 3 and just starting to talk). After catching up withthe family, we went out to meet up with a large crowd of other PCV's who were in Maputo at the time. We hung out at the Teacher's bar and then went next door to Mundo's, probably the most famous restaurant in Maputo and easily identifiable by both the delicious aromas of pizza and the large vine draped tree growing out of the corner of the building.
Willem and Mark (the other guy in the car I forgot to mention) picked us up the next morning alongside the highway where we had a taxi drop us off. They now had a trailer where we could put all our bags, leaving the trunk empty for me to curl up in a nest of pillows and blankets they provided and fall asleep. In case I haven't emphasized the unpleasantness of crossing the Moz-SA border enough, we chose to go through Swaziland to completely avoid it, even though it required crossing two borders. Finally, they dropped us off in Johannesburg at the airport from which a man picked us up and took us to the hotel we were staying at. From there we went out again, meeting up with John, Yvett, and their daughter Simone for dinner. Being the first time we had been in actual civilization in ages, we overloaded on milkshakes, nachos, and real beef burgers, that put us all in a state of pleasure/feeling ready to burst by the end of the meal. When John went to take us home, we discovered one of his tired had gone flat, but luckily he had a spare and a (very poorly designed) jack and we were able to change the tire.
We got up early Friday morning to begin our trip, but it was only a couple of hours of standing beside the high way later that we finally got a ride. (It might have been a long wait, but it was worth it to watch Ann yell at passing drivers with obviously enough room to accommodate us.) The driver was very friendly and took us as far as Xai-Xai, a little less than half way to Maputo, our destination for the day. Along the way we saw multiple rainbows, one continuing through the color spectrum twice with an additional full rainbow slightly above - a triple rainbow I guess. We hadn't even gotten out of our first ride in Xai-Xai when Scooter spotted our next potential ride, so while Ann and I collected our bags and thanked the first driver, Scooter had already run up to the window of the next car and secured us another ride. What initially seemed to be an awkward ride with two unfriendly South Africans turned out to be the best boleia ever - even topping the one we got back from Swaziland. Small talk gradually opened up into fascinating stories of how the driver, Willem (pronounced like "villain" with an "m" at the end), had traveled the world: all 50 states, all of Europe and good deal of other countries though he admitted to have never been to Antarctica. He had to make a two hour detour two check on the lodge he owned in Macaneta and offered to let us out so we could continue to hitchhike into Maputo, but we decided to just go with him and wait. His lodge was located on an island separated from the mainland by only about 400 meters of water, but with a slow moving ferry as the only means of crossing the channel, it was pretty isolated from civilization. The way he talked about interacting with the local community - with respect and concern for (or at least awareness of) the problems affecting it - he reminded us a lot of John and Yvett and the attitude they took to interacting with the local community. In any case, in was a refreshing relief from the much too common alternative of foreigners coming in and opening businesses with concerns only for the money they make and not the culture they might be disrupting or exploiting.
Scooter had been stressing out about not being able to purchase our bus tickets online, but this suddenly turned out to be a stroke of luck when Willem offered to take us all the way to Johannesburg, seeing as that's where they were headed the next day anyway. We happily agreed and set up a time and place to meet him in Maputo the next day to continue our journey.
While Scooter went to get some stuff taken care of for REDES, Ann, Erin, and I went to the USAID (United States Agency for International Development) compound to visit a family they had become close friends with and would be staying with that night. Polly and Mohamed are an amazing couple working in international development who have been all over the world together. They have three daughters, the older two (5 and 7) already being trilingual (the youngest is 3 and just starting to talk). After catching up withthe family, we went out to meet up with a large crowd of other PCV's who were in Maputo at the time. We hung out at the Teacher's bar and then went next door to Mundo's, probably the most famous restaurant in Maputo and easily identifiable by both the delicious aromas of pizza and the large vine draped tree growing out of the corner of the building.
Willem and Mark (the other guy in the car I forgot to mention) picked us up the next morning alongside the highway where we had a taxi drop us off. They now had a trailer where we could put all our bags, leaving the trunk empty for me to curl up in a nest of pillows and blankets they provided and fall asleep. In case I haven't emphasized the unpleasantness of crossing the Moz-SA border enough, we chose to go through Swaziland to completely avoid it, even though it required crossing two borders. Finally, they dropped us off in Johannesburg at the airport from which a man picked us up and took us to the hotel we were staying at. From there we went out again, meeting up with John, Yvett, and their daughter Simone for dinner. Being the first time we had been in actual civilization in ages, we overloaded on milkshakes, nachos, and real beef burgers, that put us all in a state of pleasure/feeling ready to burst by the end of the meal. When John went to take us home, we discovered one of his tired had gone flat, but luckily he had a spare and a (very poorly designed) jack and we were able to change the tire.
Friday, August 26, 2011
11-14/07/2011
Classes steadily... well, maybe "improved" is too strong of a word, but there was definitely a sort of structure developing, the students and I were becoming more familiar with each other, and my spoken Portuguese, as botched as it was, was coming out more fluidly. We had gotten into the routine of having class for an hour and then going down to the field to play some sort of game. Until now, I had been teaching them different games with varying levels of success (the popularity of "Pato, Pato, Ganso"/"Duck, Duck, Goose" being the high end, the abysmal and nearly injury inducing failure of "Red Light, Green Light" being the low), but today we tried something new that was so exceedingly popular and obvious, I respectively continued this activity everyday for the rest of my time teaching and smacked myself in the head for not thinking of it before: soccer. It's hard to even begin how successful it was: everyone participated and was actively involved, it could last an entire half an hour without any major fights breaking out (!!!), and all I had to do was chill in one of the goals and watch my students play.
There were two new PCV's who, having just completed their period of homestay training, were now doing their site visit (visiting some current PCV's and seeing how they lived their lives at site) at Ann's house, so one night we all met up to give them a proper welcome to the Peace Corps experience. We cooked up a storm of vegetable tempura, red curry, and carrot cake, and watched Modern Family on Scooter's computer. Her computer was having some problems and would occasionally freeze up, but between the good food and company, it hardly damped the mood.
There were two new PCV's who, having just completed their period of homestay training, were now doing their site visit (visiting some current PCV's and seeing how they lived their lives at site) at Ann's house, so one night we all met up to give them a proper welcome to the Peace Corps experience. We cooked up a storm of vegetable tempura, red curry, and carrot cake, and watched Modern Family on Scooter's computer. Her computer was having some problems and would occasionally freeze up, but between the good food and company, it hardly damped the mood.
Looking back at the end of the trip
To anyone who still reads this blog, I really appreciate your readership and support despite my falling behind on posting over the last few months. Right now, I'm staying with some friends in Maputo until my plane leaves to Johannesburg on the 29th, two days from now. Until then, I think I'll take advantage of the amazing high speed and practically unlimited internet to catch my blog up to the current date so at least it will be complete even if only at the last minute.
Friday, August 12, 2011
04-08/07/2011: Another week of teaching
This week I tried to start teaching the kids in my morning class music. I was still unsure how I'd go about teaching the subject to kids who have never even seen a page of sheet music in their lives (they didn't believe me the first time I showed them a page of a music book and told them it was written music) so I tried starting with the very basics. My plan was, if I could get them to be able to read the different lengths and pitches of notes, I could get them playing basic songs on the recorder or keyboard. My success was limited. The style of learning here is, unfortunately, very much copying and memorizing orientated, so while I could get my students to recite "um semibreve tem quatro batimentos" ("a whole note has 4 beats"), getting them to understand what this meant was something else entirely.
Since I don't give homework or tests, I thought it'd be best to assess what they've learned in a sort of Jeopardy game with two teams, each getting points by answering questions right, etc. Again, limited success; they were fine once they got going and a lot of students proved they had indeed learned the material, but getting them into teams in the first place was a feat in and of itself and of course there was plenty of bickering throughout the game. When the game had ended, one of the students, Victor, was being particularly obnoxious so I thoughtlessly whapped him in the head with the cloth we use to clean the chalkboard. Perhaps I hit him in the eye or maybe he was just faking for attention (that happens way too often) but he started crying. I made my second mistake by trying to hold him back after class and talk to him which was dumb because a) it was just giving him the attention he wanted and b) I don't speak Portuguese, so my attempts at communication were simply feeble and ultimately pointless. It hung over my head all day and I honestly wondered if Victor, or any of my students for that matter, would come to my classes any more. I shouldn't have worried; Victor was there the next day and classes went on as if nothing had happened.
This week has been a exam week for the high school and I wasn't sure what that meant for the primary school kids in my classes. For my afternoon class, it turned out this meant only the girls from the orphanage came along with one boy named Edigar. This actually went very well though; you can get a lot done when you have a small group of students, all eager to learn. We spent the week doing basic addition, and by the end they were able to add double and triple digits and even carry numbers.
Because it was exam week for the high school, my sister didn't have to teach any classes but she did have to supervise a few exams everyday. Otherwise, she spent her time studying for the GMAT which meant by the end of the day she was utterly drained. We unwinded by spending the evenings in her room, cooking food on her hot plate, and watching TV shows on her laptop. In retrospect, we agreed it would have probably been better for me to have eaten dinner with the sisters as far as improving my Portuguese and integrating into the community but it was nice just chilling with my sister.
On Friday we went to Ann's and had another excellent meal to mark the end of a long week: matapa and no-bake cheesecake. We watched "District 9" which was interesting because it was loosely based on the system of Apartheid in South Africa, something that'd we'd be earning more about in a couple of weeks when we would be going to Cape Town.
Since I don't give homework or tests, I thought it'd be best to assess what they've learned in a sort of Jeopardy game with two teams, each getting points by answering questions right, etc. Again, limited success; they were fine once they got going and a lot of students proved they had indeed learned the material, but getting them into teams in the first place was a feat in and of itself and of course there was plenty of bickering throughout the game. When the game had ended, one of the students, Victor, was being particularly obnoxious so I thoughtlessly whapped him in the head with the cloth we use to clean the chalkboard. Perhaps I hit him in the eye or maybe he was just faking for attention (that happens way too often) but he started crying. I made my second mistake by trying to hold him back after class and talk to him which was dumb because a) it was just giving him the attention he wanted and b) I don't speak Portuguese, so my attempts at communication were simply feeble and ultimately pointless. It hung over my head all day and I honestly wondered if Victor, or any of my students for that matter, would come to my classes any more. I shouldn't have worried; Victor was there the next day and classes went on as if nothing had happened.
This week has been a exam week for the high school and I wasn't sure what that meant for the primary school kids in my classes. For my afternoon class, it turned out this meant only the girls from the orphanage came along with one boy named Edigar. This actually went very well though; you can get a lot done when you have a small group of students, all eager to learn. We spent the week doing basic addition, and by the end they were able to add double and triple digits and even carry numbers.
Because it was exam week for the high school, my sister didn't have to teach any classes but she did have to supervise a few exams everyday. Otherwise, she spent her time studying for the GMAT which meant by the end of the day she was utterly drained. We unwinded by spending the evenings in her room, cooking food on her hot plate, and watching TV shows on her laptop. In retrospect, we agreed it would have probably been better for me to have eaten dinner with the sisters as far as improving my Portuguese and integrating into the community but it was nice just chilling with my sister.
On Friday we went to Ann's and had another excellent meal to mark the end of a long week: matapa and no-bake cheesecake. We watched "District 9" which was interesting because it was loosely based on the system of Apartheid in South Africa, something that'd we'd be earning more about in a couple of weeks when we would be going to Cape Town.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
03/07/11: The Aftermath
We all gradually woke up the next morning and sat in the furniture we had left out in Ann's yard around the remains of last night's bonfire. Firewood, cinderblocks, trash, and bottles littered Ann's yard, her kitchen was a pandemonium of leftover food and dirty dishes, and somehow Amendoim (her dog) had managed to get a small tube of of superglue adhered to his leg: in short it had been a great party.
Scooter reminded AJ, one of the PCV's, that he had yet to make his promised dish: fried pies. So, using some left over pie crust, he made one of the most incredible things I have ever eaten. They were like chocolate empanada's, deep fried and coated in powdered sugar, and simply exuding heavenly deliciousness.
Everyone took off back to their sites and we headed back to the mission, but came back to Ann's that very evening to meet up with her, Erin, and Donna and Luis (two more PCV's), for dinner. Using the shrimp Scooter had gotten the other day and a can of blueberries from one of our mom's care packages, we made shrimp green curry and blueberry pie - it, along with the fried pies, was almost more than my tastebuds could handle all in one day. To complete our patriotic celebration in true American fashion, we watched a couple of TV shows while we ate which was nice since we were all completely wiped from the weekend.
Scooter reminded AJ, one of the PCV's, that he had yet to make his promised dish: fried pies. So, using some left over pie crust, he made one of the most incredible things I have ever eaten. They were like chocolate empanada's, deep fried and coated in powdered sugar, and simply exuding heavenly deliciousness.
Everyone took off back to their sites and we headed back to the mission, but came back to Ann's that very evening to meet up with her, Erin, and Donna and Luis (two more PCV's), for dinner. Using the shrimp Scooter had gotten the other day and a can of blueberries from one of our mom's care packages, we made shrimp green curry and blueberry pie - it, along with the fried pies, was almost more than my tastebuds could handle all in one day. To complete our patriotic celebration in true American fashion, we watched a couple of TV shows while we ate which was nice since we were all completely wiped from the weekend.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
01-02/07/11: Independence Day Celebration
Sarah and Stefanie traveled back to and stayed with us for a couple of days in Inharrime, just in time to celebrate American Independence, PCV (Peace Corp Volunteer) style. On Friday,we went into town to Ann’s where the 4th of July celebration would be taking place but before we went to her place, we scavenged the second hand clothing stalls for some patriotic attire. Our luck was good; we got a red, white, and blue baseball jersey for me and, for Sarah, a dress shirt that looked straight out of Uncle Sam’s wardrobe. Additionally, Scooter had a few tshirts she had found earlier, one that she had bought off a boy’s back at the Mozambique-Swaziland border.
About 15 PCV’s from all over Mozambique showed up that afternoon and we all went to the local hotel/restaurant for dinner. It was the most PCV’s I’ve ever seen at once, and for most people in Inharrime, it was probably the most white people they’ve seen at once. Indeed, we were quite a sight, but it was nice not being the sole focus of all the locals’ stares for once.
The next morning we all went into town, first for a breakfast (we got a round of cheap hamburgers from the Teka Way trailer/convenience stall) and then grocery shopping for whatever ingredients everyone would need to make their Indepedence Day dish. Back at Ann's, we dragged all her furniture out into the yard so we could sit in the sun and, over the course of the day, people began making their dishes. Sarah and Stefanie made a carrot cake, brownies, and a cookie cake, and Scooter made red, white, and blue icing to decorate them. One became an american flag, another the Peace Corp logo, and the last just slathered with whatever icing was left. In the late afternoon, Raits, a South African friend, came with a bunch of hamburger patties which we able to cook and eat for dinner. Stiaan, also a South African friend who's father owns a restaurant in a nearby town, also came and, over dinner, told me everything I ever wanted to know about rugby.
About 15 PCV’s from all over Mozambique showed up that afternoon and we all went to the local hotel/restaurant for dinner. It was the most PCV’s I’ve ever seen at once, and for most people in Inharrime, it was probably the most white people they’ve seen at once. Indeed, we were quite a sight, but it was nice not being the sole focus of all the locals’ stares for once.
The next morning we all went into town, first for a breakfast (we got a round of cheap hamburgers from the Teka Way trailer/convenience stall) and then grocery shopping for whatever ingredients everyone would need to make their Indepedence Day dish. Back at Ann's, we dragged all her furniture out into the yard so we could sit in the sun and, over the course of the day, people began making their dishes. Sarah and Stefanie made a carrot cake, brownies, and a cookie cake, and Scooter made red, white, and blue icing to decorate them. One became an american flag, another the Peace Corp logo, and the last just slathered with whatever icing was left. In the late afternoon, Raits, a South African friend, came with a bunch of hamburger patties which we able to cook and eat for dinner. Stiaan, also a South African friend who's father owns a restaurant in a nearby town, also came and, over dinner, told me everything I ever wanted to know about rugby.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
29/06/11: Traveling back to Moz
We left the Cabrini Ministries early Monday morning without my dad; he’d be traveling by himself the next day to Johannesburg and then back to America. The sisters had arranged rides to get us to the border and from there we planned to hitchhike to Maputo. Standing just outside the border, the boarder guards helped us get one of the best beleas (rides) ever. First, it was in the back of a pickup truck which meant both a spectacular view and no forced polite conversation with the drivers. Second, the driver was booking it and we made good time. Third and most ridiculously amazing, the driver and passengers were trying to get to the French Embassy and asked my sister if she knew where it was. My sister only happens to know where it is because she walks by it whenever she goes to the Peace Corps office (our destination) – a block away! Just so you understand how lucky this was for us, the car could have been headed anywhere in the very large city of Maputo and getting from where they dropped us off to the Peace Corps office could have taken anywhere up to another few hours depending on our luck with chapa rides. So getting delivered pretty much to the doorstep of our desired destination was incredible. And to top it off, the driver was so thankful for my sister’s direction that he neglected charging us for the ride.
That afternoon, we met up with Sarah and Stefanie, two sisters and long time family friends who were traveling through Africa. We went out for ice cream and Thai food again (of course).
That afternoon, we met up with Sarah and Stefanie, two sisters and long time family friends who were traveling through Africa. We went out for ice cream and Thai food again (of course).
25-28/06/11: The Cabrini Ministries, Swaziland
So my father had an old friend he lost touch with and only recently rediscovered had become a nun who, quite serendipitously, runs a mission in Swaziland, relatively close to where Scooter is posted in Mozambique. My dad and sister have visited the mission once before, but it was my first time.
Like the Laura Vicuña mission where Scooter lives, the Cabrini Ministries mission is also a school and orphanage and so, while we were there, we went to work, painting a dorm they’re renovating. When we had done all we could in the dorm, we painted “The Wall”. “The Wall” is a 6’x40’ nightmare sprung into reality while the sisters were away from the mission. Due to corrupt contracting, the request for a building foundation turned into “The Wall” which siphoned off $4k to build – a ridiculous price anywhere, but straight up unthinkable in a place like this where that amount of money could move mountains. It’s also one of the shittiest walls ever – we had to paint in completely with brushes because it was too rough to paint with rollers, not to mention chunks of concrete would come off if we painted too hard. I guess all you can do in an awful situation like this is learn from it, laugh it off, and make the most of it; at least now it looks kinda pretty painted, though I doubt it’ll last too many of the wind storms they have here.
After a full day’s work, we would have dinner with the sisters at 5:30 before their evening prayer sessions. The food was good and the conversation was engaging, ranging from the corruption in countries like Swaziland or Mozambique to the corruption and hypocrisy of the Catholic hierarchy. It was refreshing to be around people who are fully aware of the problems within the church and yet so devoted to the faith and living in what I believe is its truest form: devoted service to those who need it most.
Sunday, we took a break from work and attended mass in the morning. The church is the most noticeable building when you’re coming to the mission, being a large, sky blue dome in the middle of the barren landscape. However, the most remarkable thing about this church was the acoustics: breathtaking. It was like every person was miked, and when the children started singing, the harmonies just enveloped you.
Like the Laura Vicuña mission where Scooter lives, the Cabrini Ministries mission is also a school and orphanage and so, while we were there, we went to work, painting a dorm they’re renovating. When we had done all we could in the dorm, we painted “The Wall”. “The Wall” is a 6’x40’ nightmare sprung into reality while the sisters were away from the mission. Due to corrupt contracting, the request for a building foundation turned into “The Wall” which siphoned off $4k to build – a ridiculous price anywhere, but straight up unthinkable in a place like this where that amount of money could move mountains. It’s also one of the shittiest walls ever – we had to paint in completely with brushes because it was too rough to paint with rollers, not to mention chunks of concrete would come off if we painted too hard. I guess all you can do in an awful situation like this is learn from it, laugh it off, and make the most of it; at least now it looks kinda pretty painted, though I doubt it’ll last too many of the wind storms they have here.
After a full day’s work, we would have dinner with the sisters at 5:30 before their evening prayer sessions. The food was good and the conversation was engaging, ranging from the corruption in countries like Swaziland or Mozambique to the corruption and hypocrisy of the Catholic hierarchy. It was refreshing to be around people who are fully aware of the problems within the church and yet so devoted to the faith and living in what I believe is its truest form: devoted service to those who need it most.
Sunday, we took a break from work and attended mass in the morning. The church is the most noticeable building when you’re coming to the mission, being a large, sky blue dome in the middle of the barren landscape. However, the most remarkable thing about this church was the acoustics: breathtaking. It was like every person was miked, and when the children started singing, the harmonies just enveloped you.
23-24/06/11: Traveling to Swaziland
We left for Maputo, the capital and major city of Mozambique, early Thursday morning. The chapa ride down was pretty smooth until the very end where a bunch of roads were out and all the traffic was piling into one huge traffic jam. It must have taken about half an hour just to complete the last 2 kilometers of our trip.
So turns out there’s a young woman, Jackie, living in Maputo who went to Uni (my now old high school) and is a cousin of one of my classmates, Tahar. My sister discovered her through a mutual American friend and since then they’ve kept in contact. Jackie was letting us spend the night in her apartment, but she really went above and beyond the normal call of hospitality, picking us up directly from the junta, taking us to back to her place, and providing us with lunch before she had to head back to work. After we ate, we spent the afternoon walking around Maputo, first to the Peace Corps office, then to a crafts market, then to the “Teacher’s Bar” (a hole-in-the-wall PC discovery, named for the enigmatic, desolate building next door supposedly belonging to some international teacher’s organization).
The two major highlights of going to Maputo for Scooter and I are Thai food and ice cream. We were getting the first for dinner but Scooter was worried the ice cream shop would be closed by the time we finished so we went ahead and got ice cream before dinner, just to be safe.
The next morning, we took a series of chapas to Goba where we expected to cross the border into Swaziland. However, despite the border post we were going to being named the “Goba border post”, it was located about 12k outside the city, up in the mountains, and so we found ourselves slightly stranded on the edge of the town, trying to hitch a ride from the sparse selection of cars passing through, all charging increasingly exorbitant prices for the lift. After a few hours, we decided to hike a few kilometers up to the highway and got a ride from there. Maybe it’s partially due to not having to cross it at night, but the Moz-Swazi border was much less intimidating than the one from Moz to SA. Once across we found the driver the Cabrini sisters had sent to fetch us and rode to the mission.
So turns out there’s a young woman, Jackie, living in Maputo who went to Uni (my now old high school) and is a cousin of one of my classmates, Tahar. My sister discovered her through a mutual American friend and since then they’ve kept in contact. Jackie was letting us spend the night in her apartment, but she really went above and beyond the normal call of hospitality, picking us up directly from the junta, taking us to back to her place, and providing us with lunch before she had to head back to work. After we ate, we spent the afternoon walking around Maputo, first to the Peace Corps office, then to a crafts market, then to the “Teacher’s Bar” (a hole-in-the-wall PC discovery, named for the enigmatic, desolate building next door supposedly belonging to some international teacher’s organization).
The two major highlights of going to Maputo for Scooter and I are Thai food and ice cream. We were getting the first for dinner but Scooter was worried the ice cream shop would be closed by the time we finished so we went ahead and got ice cream before dinner, just to be safe.
The next morning, we took a series of chapas to Goba where we expected to cross the border into Swaziland. However, despite the border post we were going to being named the “Goba border post”, it was located about 12k outside the city, up in the mountains, and so we found ourselves slightly stranded on the edge of the town, trying to hitch a ride from the sparse selection of cars passing through, all charging increasingly exorbitant prices for the lift. After a few hours, we decided to hike a few kilometers up to the highway and got a ride from there. Maybe it’s partially due to not having to cross it at night, but the Moz-Swazi border was much less intimidating than the one from Moz to SA. Once across we found the driver the Cabrini sisters had sent to fetch us and rode to the mission.
21-22/06/11: More Teaching
I write these blogs by going back through the journal I keep and here’s what I had to say on the day my afternoon classes began:
“…if I’m not careful, I’m accidentally going to punch one of these kid’s faces in. Hm, I’d get banned from teaching for sure – maybe that’s not such a bad thing…”
So the second week of teaching I got another class, this one from 3-4:00. The class was only an hour, I was pretty sure Irma Agnes had told me the students were going to be older, and with any luck the class size would be smaller and more manageable. Things were looking up. Well, actually no. Turns out the class was younger – kindergarten/1st graders (my first class is 3rd and 4th graders) – and bigger – around 40 to 50 students. Gradual but absolute chaos. Even better, the classroom I teach is right next to the room for a woman’s study group so we couldn’t get too loud. When some genius finds unicorns or invents a time machine, please work on this question next: how do you teach 40+ 6 year olds “music” quietly for an hour? For at least 3 months? Oh right, and, having just started school, they know about as much Portuguese as I do since they grew up speaking the local language, Xopi.
That evening, Scooter helped me talk to Irma Agnes who was very sympathetic and willing to negotiate changes. The class size would be reduced to about 26 and she would give me simple math books to work them through.
Another excerpt from my journal from next day:
“Best class yet this morning! I didn’t even know a class could go that well.”
So obviously this job has its ups and downs and I just happened to go through the two extremes in rapid succession. It was a very good class though and definitely made up for the previous day. My morning class went through all the English phrases we had learned so far and strung them together into a short conversation that the students got very engaged in and by the end they were having the conversation with each other and without my help. Everything went so great, it took up nearly the entire first hour, which never happens. After that we went over some basic math rules and then I wrote problems on the board for them to practice and, would you believe it, they worked quietly on the problems! At the end of the lesson, I told them that’d I’d be leaving to Swaziland tomorrow but when I returned we would start learning music. I played Waka Waka and Wavin’ Flag on the recorder as a demonstration and they loved it.
“…if I’m not careful, I’m accidentally going to punch one of these kid’s faces in. Hm, I’d get banned from teaching for sure – maybe that’s not such a bad thing…”
So the second week of teaching I got another class, this one from 3-4:00. The class was only an hour, I was pretty sure Irma Agnes had told me the students were going to be older, and with any luck the class size would be smaller and more manageable. Things were looking up. Well, actually no. Turns out the class was younger – kindergarten/1st graders (my first class is 3rd and 4th graders) – and bigger – around 40 to 50 students. Gradual but absolute chaos. Even better, the classroom I teach is right next to the room for a woman’s study group so we couldn’t get too loud. When some genius finds unicorns or invents a time machine, please work on this question next: how do you teach 40+ 6 year olds “music” quietly for an hour? For at least 3 months? Oh right, and, having just started school, they know about as much Portuguese as I do since they grew up speaking the local language, Xopi.
That evening, Scooter helped me talk to Irma Agnes who was very sympathetic and willing to negotiate changes. The class size would be reduced to about 26 and she would give me simple math books to work them through.
Another excerpt from my journal from next day:
“Best class yet this morning! I didn’t even know a class could go that well.”
So obviously this job has its ups and downs and I just happened to go through the two extremes in rapid succession. It was a very good class though and definitely made up for the previous day. My morning class went through all the English phrases we had learned so far and strung them together into a short conversation that the students got very engaged in and by the end they were having the conversation with each other and without my help. Everything went so great, it took up nearly the entire first hour, which never happens. After that we went over some basic math rules and then I wrote problems on the board for them to practice and, would you believe it, they worked quietly on the problems! At the end of the lesson, I told them that’d I’d be leaving to Swaziland tomorrow but when I returned we would start learning music. I played Waka Waka and Wavin’ Flag on the recorder as a demonstration and they loved it.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
16/06/11: Teaching, oh baby! / How I am indebted to Justin Bieber
Early this morning Irma Agnes took me down to the Primary School and explained how I would begin teaching a class from 10-11:30 every day. She told me that I could teach them pretty much whatever I wanted, be it music, P.E., or mathematics, etc. This was a relief; if I didn’t have to focus only on music, I could definitely come up with a ton more of activities and things to teach. And when do I start? Today, of course! More accurately, in two hours. It’s strange how time works: the study hall sessions yesterday were some of the longest two hours of my life whereas the next two, in which I had to prepare my first lesson, were easily some of the shortest. When 10:00 came, I went to class armed with “Bon Dia a Voce/Good Morning to You” (sung in the tune of “Happy Birthday”), “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” (thanks Brittany!), and “Pato, Pato, Ganso” (Duck, Duck, Goose). Turns out this wasn’t nearly enough for the hour and a half, but the kids were super enthusiastic and engaged and ready to repeat stuff over and over (I must have played the accompanying “Good Morning to You” chords on my mandolin about 25 times for them to sing the song to everybody in the class). For the first class, it went pretty well. I was definitely in dire need of more ideas though so, as you all well know, I sent out requests for help on this blog, gmail, and facebook, and (thank you all so much!!!) over the next few days received tons of great suggestions.
I was asked to supervise another study hall in the afternoon (just as wonderful a time as yesterday) but in the evening things got much better. It was Irma Claudina’s birthday so Irma Agnes had asked if I could play along on my mandolin as the girls sang Happy Birthday to her. I had only burned the chords into my muscle memory that morning so I was more than happy to oblige. So, after a special dinner, we performed Happy Birthday, the Luara Vicuna song, and then another number we had learned while rehearsing before dinner: Baby. Turns out the chords to this Biebtastic number are ridiculously simple which is convenient because it’s probably the most popular song at this mission after Waka Waka. When I showed the girls I knew how to play it, they got really excited and made up their own dance to go with it (which I later apparently got credit for teaching them). Being able to play and sing song definitely won me a lot of popularity among the girls here at the mission. It was a festive night, only enhanced by the lunar eclipse.
I was asked to supervise another study hall in the afternoon (just as wonderful a time as yesterday) but in the evening things got much better. It was Irma Claudina’s birthday so Irma Agnes had asked if I could play along on my mandolin as the girls sang Happy Birthday to her. I had only burned the chords into my muscle memory that morning so I was more than happy to oblige. So, after a special dinner, we performed Happy Birthday, the Luara Vicuna song, and then another number we had learned while rehearsing before dinner: Baby. Turns out the chords to this Biebtastic number are ridiculously simple which is convenient because it’s probably the most popular song at this mission after Waka Waka. When I showed the girls I knew how to play it, they got really excited and made up their own dance to go with it (which I later apparently got credit for teaching them). Being able to play and sing song definitely won me a lot of popularity among the girls here at the mission. It was a festive night, only enhanced by the lunar eclipse.
15/06/11: Study Hall Miseries
The way school works here, there are students who have classes in the morning and others who have their classes in the afternoon. For the girls in the orphanage this means that those with afternoon classes have a morning study hall (and vice versa) supervised by an older girl or a mission volunteer. Ronnie usually oversees the morning one but today he had to unload a truck and asked me to man it for him… it was pretty awful. I had no idea what the rules were supposed to be nor would I have even been able to enforce them with my fumbling Portuguese. And as an only recently graduated high school student, I know very well what a substitute teacher means; it was no surprise how the girls took advantage of me, talking loudly and leaving in droves to “go to the bathroom” (and often not coming back).
I suppose the bright side to the ordeal was that I was able to help some girls with their math homework. The stuff they had to do was ridiculously complicated and tedious though, with a conversion chart between grams and kilograms and about 12 different other something-grams. It just seems pointless to throw something like this at students who are still struggling with basic algebra and multiplication – why confuse them with all this other stuff and make them want to quit altogether?
I also got asked to monitor the afternoon study hall. This time, girls didn’t even bother asking to go to the bathroom, they just left. Meanwhile the little ones were supposed to be coloring but of course there weren’t enough coloring books or pencils.
I guess the worst thing about all of it was it made the idea of teaching music absolutely daunting. How am I supposed to teach if I can’t even manage a two hour study hall?
I suppose the bright side to the ordeal was that I was able to help some girls with their math homework. The stuff they had to do was ridiculously complicated and tedious though, with a conversion chart between grams and kilograms and about 12 different other something-grams. It just seems pointless to throw something like this at students who are still struggling with basic algebra and multiplication – why confuse them with all this other stuff and make them want to quit altogether?
I also got asked to monitor the afternoon study hall. This time, girls didn’t even bother asking to go to the bathroom, they just left. Meanwhile the little ones were supposed to be coloring but of course there weren’t enough coloring books or pencils.
I guess the worst thing about all of it was it made the idea of teaching music absolutely daunting. How am I supposed to teach if I can’t even manage a two hour study hall?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Weekend at Ann’s
We spent the weekend at Ann’s, hanging out and eating delicious food. (Ann, a Peace Corps Volunteer and a friend of my sister, lives a few kilometers up the road in the town of Inharrime.) Friday, right after lunch, Ann and I headed into town from the mission. You can easily walk the distance in about forty-five, but sometimes you can catch a “balea” i.e. a free ride. Hitchhiking is very much part of the culture here and you can usually flag down a driver for a ride unless they’re particularly rude or South African tourists (which are essentially the same thing anyways.) We got a ride in the back of a pickup truck with several other people. There was an almost cinematic difference between Ann’s lively, laughter-filled conversation with an elderly woman and my awkward conversation-fail in which me and the man sitting across from me managed to communicate nothing but the fact that we couldn’t understand each other at all. After the third handshake, we gave it up.
In town, we went to the market and bought produce from the PCV’s favorite vendors, Sandra and Linda. When we had all the ingredients we’d need, we walked up the hill to Ann’s place where we were greeted by Amendoim (“Peanut”), Ann’s dog. (Interestingly enough, Mozambican dogs tend to be racist. It makes sense though; locals are used to feral, aggressive dogs covered in ticks and fleas and so they fear them and often act hostile towards them. Contrarily, American PCV’s, who are used to domesticated dogs, are much kinder to the animals.) We started to get dinner prepared, cutting up vegetables and lighting Ann’s coal stove outside. Ann does have a propane stove with one working burner but her gas tank was empty so we couldn’t use it. Staying at Ann’s definitely made me appreciate just how comfortable my living situation is at the Laura Vicuña mission; her reed house is cozy but pretty primitive in comparison. No internet access just a few minutes away. No running water, just a basin under the kitchen table. No bathroom, but an outdoor latrine. (To the B’s, she has the same kind of solar heated shower bag as you guys!) Staying there makes you realize just how much you can do without (although I realize staying there for two days is a lot different from actually living there.)
When my father and sister arrived, Scooter and Ann made a hummus dip appetizer, pad thai for the main entre, and a no-bake cheese cake for dessert. It was all wonderfully delicious.
My sister had a meeting at the mission the next day so her and my dad left early. After we got up, Ann and I passed the time by talking leisurely, making egg sandwiches, and watching Modern Family on her laptop. We also prepared the beer batter for tempura that we were going to make that evening, as according to Ann, the batter only get better the longer you let it sit. To get beer, we walked to a nearby “banca” (kind of like a reed hut convenience store) and I realized it was one of the stops we had made with Filipe on his delivery route – more specifically the stop with the little boy who says “hullo” to me. Turns out this same kid bursts into tears whenever he encounters Scooter or Ann.
That evening, my sister and father had returned and we all hung out in Ann’s front yard. Scooter was making vegetable tempura on Ann’s coal stove in her yard and I was ralar-ing coconuts (you sit on a stool with a protruding grater thing on one end that you use to scrape out the meat of the coconut – pretty fun you just have to be careful not to ralar your fingers) when Erin (another local PCV) and her father arrived. While our father’s got to know each other, the rest of us (mostly the girls) prepared the rest of the food. When I was done with the coconuts, we soaked the meat shavings in hot water and then squeezed/strained them to get coconut milk for the curry. Another excellent meal. No one gave us a balea on the way home that night but it was a nice walk anyways.
In town, we went to the market and bought produce from the PCV’s favorite vendors, Sandra and Linda. When we had all the ingredients we’d need, we walked up the hill to Ann’s place where we were greeted by Amendoim (“Peanut”), Ann’s dog. (Interestingly enough, Mozambican dogs tend to be racist. It makes sense though; locals are used to feral, aggressive dogs covered in ticks and fleas and so they fear them and often act hostile towards them. Contrarily, American PCV’s, who are used to domesticated dogs, are much kinder to the animals.) We started to get dinner prepared, cutting up vegetables and lighting Ann’s coal stove outside. Ann does have a propane stove with one working burner but her gas tank was empty so we couldn’t use it. Staying at Ann’s definitely made me appreciate just how comfortable my living situation is at the Laura Vicuña mission; her reed house is cozy but pretty primitive in comparison. No internet access just a few minutes away. No running water, just a basin under the kitchen table. No bathroom, but an outdoor latrine. (To the B’s, she has the same kind of solar heated shower bag as you guys!) Staying there makes you realize just how much you can do without (although I realize staying there for two days is a lot different from actually living there.)
When my father and sister arrived, Scooter and Ann made a hummus dip appetizer, pad thai for the main entre, and a no-bake cheese cake for dessert. It was all wonderfully delicious.
My sister had a meeting at the mission the next day so her and my dad left early. After we got up, Ann and I passed the time by talking leisurely, making egg sandwiches, and watching Modern Family on her laptop. We also prepared the beer batter for tempura that we were going to make that evening, as according to Ann, the batter only get better the longer you let it sit. To get beer, we walked to a nearby “banca” (kind of like a reed hut convenience store) and I realized it was one of the stops we had made with Filipe on his delivery route – more specifically the stop with the little boy who says “hullo” to me. Turns out this same kid bursts into tears whenever he encounters Scooter or Ann.
That evening, my sister and father had returned and we all hung out in Ann’s front yard. Scooter was making vegetable tempura on Ann’s coal stove in her yard and I was ralar-ing coconuts (you sit on a stool with a protruding grater thing on one end that you use to scrape out the meat of the coconut – pretty fun you just have to be careful not to ralar your fingers) when Erin (another local PCV) and her father arrived. While our father’s got to know each other, the rest of us (mostly the girls) prepared the rest of the food. When I was done with the coconuts, we soaked the meat shavings in hot water and then squeezed/strained them to get coconut milk for the curry. Another excellent meal. No one gave us a balea on the way home that night but it was a nice walk anyways.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
HELP
I realize Im behind on my blogging and I promise to post my latest adventures soon, but for now I need all the help I can get. I just began teaching a 1st and 2nd grade class of 40 kids for and hour and a half everyday and while the first day was a blast, I'm starting to run low on ideas. From what I can tell I get to teach them pretty much anythng I want, but maybe with a focus on music and physical education. So today we sang "Bon Dia a Voce/Good Morning to You" (in the tune of Happy Birthday), Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes (thanks to Brittany for the idea, they loved that one), and then went outside and played "Pato, Pato, Ganso/Duck, Duck, Goose" and "Sharks and Minnows" (that one was impromptu so I never got a chance to translate it). Anyways, yeah, so now Im floundering a bit as to what I'm going to do next and I could really use some suggestions just to get my creative juices flowing. Thanks!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
08/06/11
The wind had started howling last night and early this morning there was a huge rainstorm, the sound of which was only amplified by the metal roof of the compound I’m living in. It was very dark when I got up and the power was shot so I had to find my way around with a flashlight. I was skeptical that we would deliver bread at all today; after all Filipe would have to bike the few kilometers from Inharrime through the rain and mud to get to the bakery. We did end up going, but we left later and finished early as the power in the bakery was out and they couldn’t make any more bread.
I’m still learning the delivery route which, in my defense, is quite complex and often doubles back on itself. The hardest is the part of the route that goes through the winding, narrow dirt paths of Inharrime which, when you leave downtown, becomes less of a town and more of a sprawling village/forest. I am, however, learning to identify the different stops we regularly make. For instance, there is the “blue box” stop, the stop by the saw blade vendor, and the stop with the particularly big drop off from the highway. There is also the stop with the poster that says “Glass eyes don’t see, wear goggles”, the stop with the building labeled “Don,t kill me anymore,,”, the pink “GrandPa: Headache Powders” stop, and the stop with the little boy who says “hullo” and the girl Marina who Filipe seems to be trying to set me up with. There’s the stop across from truck that crashed and hasn’t been moved since, the stop at the bar by the lagoon, and the stop at the Mercado. And many, many others.
I sat in on my sister’s English Club again today. They were playing Scrabble again and out of the blue, one student spelled EROSION without any help at all.
Now that my sister is solid in Portuguese, she has started taking lessons to learn Xopi, a local language. I went with her to her lesson today even though I’m still struggling to get a grasp of Portuguese. At one point a tiny kitten jumped onto my lap and, despite a) being allergic to cats and b) needing to be wary of touching animals in general because that’s how my sister got tick fever last year, I let it sleep there for a while because it was just so damn cute. However, I grew less enamored when I saw a tick crawling across my shorts and quickly got both kitten and tick off my person.
I’m still learning the delivery route which, in my defense, is quite complex and often doubles back on itself. The hardest is the part of the route that goes through the winding, narrow dirt paths of Inharrime which, when you leave downtown, becomes less of a town and more of a sprawling village/forest. I am, however, learning to identify the different stops we regularly make. For instance, there is the “blue box” stop, the stop by the saw blade vendor, and the stop with the particularly big drop off from the highway. There is also the stop with the poster that says “Glass eyes don’t see, wear goggles”, the stop with the building labeled “Don,t kill me anymore,,”, the pink “GrandPa: Headache Powders” stop, and the stop with the little boy who says “hullo” and the girl Marina who Filipe seems to be trying to set me up with. There’s the stop across from truck that crashed and hasn’t been moved since, the stop at the bar by the lagoon, and the stop at the Mercado. And many, many others.
I sat in on my sister’s English Club again today. They were playing Scrabble again and out of the blue, one student spelled EROSION without any help at all.
Now that my sister is solid in Portuguese, she has started taking lessons to learn Xopi, a local language. I went with her to her lesson today even though I’m still struggling to get a grasp of Portuguese. At one point a tiny kitten jumped onto my lap and, despite a) being allergic to cats and b) needing to be wary of touching animals in general because that’s how my sister got tick fever last year, I let it sleep there for a while because it was just so damn cute. However, I grew less enamored when I saw a tick crawling across my shorts and quickly got both kitten and tick off my person.
07/06/11
We helped Filipe again this morning and this time I brought along a conversational Portuguese dictionary so we could practice actual phrases in the car rides between stops. It turned out to be a great idea; Filipe got so engaged in going through the different phrases in English and Portuguese and fixing each other’s pronunciation that we almost missed a few of our stops.
After lunch, my dad taught me a lot about playing chords on the mandolin, something which I never got around to learning despite playing the instrument for so long. My dad has brought a small Little Martin travel guitar to Mozambique that we’ve started calling “Martiña”. Assuming that he leaves it here, I think I’ll try picking it up along with the mandolin since I’ve always wanted to learn the basics of guitar but never really had time.
After lunch, my dad taught me a lot about playing chords on the mandolin, something which I never got around to learning despite playing the instrument for so long. My dad has brought a small Little Martin travel guitar to Mozambique that we’ve started calling “Martiña”. Assuming that he leaves it here, I think I’ll try picking it up along with the mandolin since I’ve always wanted to learn the basics of guitar but never really had time.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
06/06/11
Btw, in addition to a school and an orphanage, this mission also has a bakery which generates a good deal of money. My father and I spent this morning helping distribute bread with Filipe, the delivery guy. The usual driver is still unavailable so my father drove the “bread truck” (a Isuzu pickup truck packed with crates of bread) and I tagged along to learn more about driving in Mozambique as I might have to sometimes after my dad leaves. After an hour or two of driving however, I was more than a little scared of the thought of taking the wheel. In addition to the confusion of driving on the left side of the road and the steering wheel being on the right side of the dashboard, the roads of this country are simply abysmal. The only paved road is the highway (and in the one and only). The rest are dirt roads full of bumps and dips that jostle even the best drivers. Throw in the lack of sidewalks and the multitude of people walking in the streets and you have a true nightmare for a little boy who’s only ever driven an automatic in the safe, sane streets of Champaign Urbana.
My fears aside though, it was fun going with my dad and Filipe. I got to help Filipe distribute bread at the many different stops we made and while neither of us speaks much of the others’ language, we spent a good amount of time talking and learning the languages from each other.
My father and I ate lunch in the dining hall with the Sisters and meninas (girls). It’s incredible how self sufficient the girls are at taking care of themselves. Even the tiniest ones that can’t be more than 3 or 4 years old were getting their own food and feeding themselves. In the afternoon, we tried studying Portuguese with limited success. A group of girl’s found us and proved quite distracting by teasing us, running around us, poking us, singing and dancing for us, and hugging us. They did help our pronunciation a lot though as they had no shame in correcting our bad accents.
In the evening we went into town to meet up with Ann for a drink and then dinner. Erin came halfway through dinner and it was really interesting hearing the PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers) talk about their experiences in and frustrations with the program.
My fears aside though, it was fun going with my dad and Filipe. I got to help Filipe distribute bread at the many different stops we made and while neither of us speaks much of the others’ language, we spent a good amount of time talking and learning the languages from each other.
My father and I ate lunch in the dining hall with the Sisters and meninas (girls). It’s incredible how self sufficient the girls are at taking care of themselves. Even the tiniest ones that can’t be more than 3 or 4 years old were getting their own food and feeding themselves. In the afternoon, we tried studying Portuguese with limited success. A group of girl’s found us and proved quite distracting by teasing us, running around us, poking us, singing and dancing for us, and hugging us. They did help our pronunciation a lot though as they had no shame in correcting our bad accents.
In the evening we went into town to meet up with Ann for a drink and then dinner. Erin came halfway through dinner and it was really interesting hearing the PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers) talk about their experiences in and frustrations with the program.
First Day at Laura Vicuña
I started today by running with my sister early in the morning. She’s training for a marathon in August and I suppose I’ll do it too, or at least half of it. We passed a hotel advertisement that featured various icons representing the accommodations provided. I laughed because one was the symbol for restrooms but my sister pointed out you can’t take that particular accommodation for granted here.
After church, the sisters asked my father if he could drive a group of students to Zavora Beach as the regular driver wasn’t available. Both my dad and I had gotten international drivers licenses before we came to Mozambique in order to make ourselves more useful at the mission, so he was more than happy to drive us down in the back of a gigantic pickup truck. It was a wonderful way to pass the day. Mozambique has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world and as it isn’t tourist season, we had miles of beach to ourselves save a few local fishermen. We ate lunch on the beach and then had another meal in the back of the truck on the way back. The ride was incredibly bumpy and I was sure some of the rice would spill or the Sister was going to impale someone with the sharp knife she was using to cut bread, but somehow we all enjoyed a meal together as naturally as when we had eaten on the beach.
After church, the sisters asked my father if he could drive a group of students to Zavora Beach as the regular driver wasn’t available. Both my dad and I had gotten international drivers licenses before we came to Mozambique in order to make ourselves more useful at the mission, so he was more than happy to drive us down in the back of a gigantic pickup truck. It was a wonderful way to pass the day. Mozambique has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world and as it isn’t tourist season, we had miles of beach to ourselves save a few local fishermen. We ate lunch on the beach and then had another meal in the back of the truck on the way back. The ride was incredibly bumpy and I was sure some of the rice would spill or the Sister was going to impale someone with the sharp knife she was using to cut bread, but somehow we all enjoyed a meal together as naturally as when we had eaten on the beach.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Traveling
We started out early in the morning, driving to the Indianapolis airport and then flying to Atlanta. The Atlanta airport was buzzing with school travel groups and it made me nostalgic for the Spain trip last summer. After a long flight to Johannesburg, we took a taxi to the bus station. We got to know the taxi driver, Joseph, and he gave my dad his name and number, telling him to text him for a ride on his way back and promising him a discount. The bus station was a large, open building full or restaurants and people traveling all over. It was pretty chilly, but safe. The bus was nice and warm and we fell asleep immediately although my dad was woken up by a loud Christian soap opera they showed in the middle of the night and I spent most of the night awake in preparation for crossing the border. I’ve crossed the Mozambican border twice before, both times in the dead of night and both pretty nerve wracking experiences. Turns out though that now the border doesn’t open until 6 a.m. and we had to wait before we could line up to cross it. To go in and out of Mozambique, you have to get out of your vehicle and walk about a mile, going through several different check points: one to check you have a passport, one to get a stamp for departing from South Africa, and one for receiving the entry stamp for Mozambique (all with long lines). It was cold doing the whole process at daybreak but a lot more comfortable than doing it in the middle of the night and we got to watch a beautiful sunrise on our way. Finally, a few hours later, we met my sister, Scooter, at the bus stop in Maputo. Scooter had REDES (Girls in Development, Education, and Health) meetings all day so my dad and I spent the afternoon walking around the city, trying to avoid jetlag and stay awake. Eventually we retired to the hotel and I took a nap. My sister had difficulties trying to make and keep reservations at this particular hotel and it almost turned out that my dad and I didn’t get a room but when the owner heard it was my sister’s family who needed a place, she offered us one room she usually reserved for storage. Apparently many of the other hotel workers also stored stuff in there because, during our stay, we had at least five hotel workers walk into our room before quickly backing out, apologizing, quite embarrassed. In the middle of my nap, I woke up to find a small girl sitting on the bed next to me. After giving me a quizzical look, she scampered off and I fell back asleep wondering if I hadn’t just dreamt that happened. Turns out she’s the owner’s granddaughter and probably usually hung out in that room a lot. The next day we woke early and got on a chapa headed to Inharrime. We arrived at the mission where my sister works, and it seemed the long journey was over without any problems but then, just as the chapa took off down the road, we discovered we had left one of our suitcases on it. While I took off running and waving in vain after the chapa, Scooter ran inside the mission and explained the situation. A few minutes later, her and a driver took off after the chapa in one of the mission’s trucks. They had to go 40 km to catch the chapa and it was over an hour before they got back, but they got the bag. After unpacking a bit, we took our instruments up to the courtyard where we sang with all the girls (right, btw, the mission where my sister works and where we’ll be staying is also a school and an orphanage for about 60 girls). We played some Taylor Swift and spirituals but “Hallelujah” was the most popular as all the girls could easily sing along with the chorus.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
It weird asking people to read about my life, but everyone keeps telling me to let them know how my travels go and a blog seems like the most convenient solution. So read if you want, but don't feel obligated. I can only promise to try to make my life (and subsequent posts) as exciting as possible, if only for your amusement.
Also, if you're still reading this, I highly recommend reading my sister's blog which this one will be supplementing more than anything. www.scooterinmozambique.blogspot.com
Its the night before departure and I think we're ready. Bags are packed, ipod's charged, head's shaved (it'll make the traveling and heat much easier to deal with). Tomorrow at 6:30am we head off to Indianapolis. From there, we're going to Atlanta and then to Johannesburg where we'll be taking a bus to Maputo and meet up with Scooter. Finally, we'll take a chapa up to Inharrime, our final destination. The only part of the trip that worries me is the few hours we have to spend in Jo'burg (that city scares the shit out of me) but hopefully it'll all go smoothly and we'll be at the mission before we know it. Probably not, but hey, that's what makes it an adventure.
Well this was a thrilling start but try to contain yourself because things should start to get more interesting soon. For now, good night, and if you're a person I like, give yourself a hug from me.
Also, if you're still reading this, I highly recommend reading my sister's blog which this one will be supplementing more than anything. www.scooterinmozambique.blogspot.com
Its the night before departure and I think we're ready. Bags are packed, ipod's charged, head's shaved (it'll make the traveling and heat much easier to deal with). Tomorrow at 6:30am we head off to Indianapolis. From there, we're going to Atlanta and then to Johannesburg where we'll be taking a bus to Maputo and meet up with Scooter. Finally, we'll take a chapa up to Inharrime, our final destination. The only part of the trip that worries me is the few hours we have to spend in Jo'burg (that city scares the shit out of me) but hopefully it'll all go smoothly and we'll be at the mission before we know it. Probably not, but hey, that's what makes it an adventure.
Well this was a thrilling start but try to contain yourself because things should start to get more interesting soon. For now, good night, and if you're a person I like, give yourself a hug from me.
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