LIMBO

First holiday season outside of the commercial Christmas confine of the States.  No giant homes embellished with over the top Christmas lights, fake snow, no hectic Christmas shopping, but I mean who needs all that  I did, however, surprisingly miss the continuous stream of cheesy Christmas music on the radio, being cold around this time of year tand sipping on hot caramel apple cider (mmm) , but above all else I missed the warmth of getting together with my family and eating my weight in tamales. So instead of these usual holiday quirks, it all just came and went without much eventfulness.  Never thought I would spend Christmas morning cooling off with a swim in a beautiful river rather then ripping into presents.  Refreshing in every respect of the word.

The New Year came in an anti-climatic way as well, didn’t even bother with a countdown, since in my mind, my new year started the minute I stepped foot into Mozambique.  

And so now, I am here in the city of Chimoio.  I have been out of Dombe since before Christmas.  My house is still a work in progress, which is a bit unnerving considering that school begins this coming Monday and I have no where to really call home.

Despite the current state of frustration, confusion and anxiety, I will start teaching in a week, the professors will start coming home from vacation, and the Escola Segundaria do Dombe will soon have its classrooms filled with students again.  Not sure how prepared I can be or will be, but my excitement to start teaching surpasses my other feelings of uncertainty.

I'm half way under the limbo bar, lets hope I don’t fall.

And on the 7th day.....

Written on: December 15, 2010

So, its been exactly 7 days since Ive moved to my site, Dombe, Mozambique.  I’m surviving, sorta.

But  first  Ill rewind back to my gleaming, eager self on December 3^rd , 2010, the

 official day that I became a Peace Corps Volunteer,.  Our “Ceremonia do Juramento” took place at the Ambassadors beautiful 3 story modern home overlooking the Indian Ocean in the capital, Maputo.  Each discipline, professors of English, Science and Health Educators, had a specified capulana pattern, which is a fabric used by women here in Mozambique sometimes as a wrap to carry infants, and, as in this case, as clothing.   So here we were, 70 Americans,  wearing our capulana tunics, dresses, skirts, taking an oath, the same one Barack Obama took, that to be honest I hardly remember; yet saying those words somehow made everything more real. 

Moz 15 officially sworn in, weºre PCVs..FINALLY!

So after our ceremony, we had a final night in a 5 star hotel in Maputo, one last hoorah before we would be scattered across the vast country of Mozambique.  It was fun to say the least, being with friends , watching thunder storms from the balcony of a 4^th floor suite, it was amazing.   So, that was a high point, being with
friends, having a good time, and then came the goodbyes which were difficult, but
 in the same breathe I could say I was excited to start this whole “Peace Corps” thing, to find out what was in store for me these next 2 years.

So, we fly to the provincial capital of Manica, a clean quaint city called Chimoio.  It is the 5^th biggest in Mozambique, with a pleasant, calm quality to it that I

appreciated.  After 2 long days of Supervisors Conference here in Chimoio, I met my Pedagogical Director of my school, Director Rui, learned that there was no electricity at site, and it was what Mozambicans call the “mato”, which means bush.  When I told others in Chimoio, like the woman I bought my mattress from, that I was going to Dombe, she exlaimed, “EH –PAH e Mato”!  (“mato” translates to bush, used to describe very rural parts of the country) So that definitely didn’t help my racing thoughts on what exactly was in store, but at that point all that was left was to see it for myself.

Now, I write this after a week of “mato” life.  Day one was just absorbing everything, arriving after a 3 or so hour drive out of the city, a majority of which was just trees, green beautiful hills, random people on the sides of the road,  the entire time thinking soon a big town will come up, but instead more machambas (plantations), more trees, more ‘mato’. The next couple of days were spent figuring out how to survive.  There is no electricity solar panels will be used to charge phones, had nothing to store water in so found two yellow jugs to store to make our trips to the water pump less frequent, learned to cook with carvão (charcoal), which required constant vigiliance and a lot of patience.  In all, it was a lot to overcome in such a short couple of days, but in order to adapt it had to be conquered.

Sometime in the first couple days there was a night where things just really weren’t going very smoothly.  We first had a giant spider dilemma, which our neighboring professor helped kill, then as we sat inside to eat dinner saw a mouse inside, to which again our neighbor helped us try to get out, and just when we thought we were safe, we got ready to go to sleep, but first tried to kill some cockroaches that were scurring along our walls, by this point roaches are  standard but I hate killing them because they make a “pop” sound that freaks me out.  Anyways, my co-survivor in the ‘mato’, Emily, tried to kill the roaches but they escaped into a crack in our concrete wall, as they scurried away to hide, all of a sudden from the hole in the wall emerged some sort of alien-esque creature, which of course lead to screams and a frantic race to get out of our house.  Once again, our neighbor comes, now along with another professor living a few doors down, to inspect what in the hell crawled out of our wall.  First we hear talk of it being a bat, but after they inspected further concluded that it was a scorpion that apparently was poisonous.  GREAT.  So they ask us for matches and paper, which we actually had a lot of (how else are we to start our carvão fires), and they started lighting paper on fire and shoving it into the hole in our wall, apparently trying to smoke out our venomous friend.  After doing this long enough for the entire room to be filled with smoke, they assured us it would be ok, so we go into bed, tucked our mosquito nets tightly around the edges of our mattress, and tried to sleep despite knowing that there was a venomous scorpion feet from where we slept.

Dombe, Moz...beautiful





Passear through Dombe





Through the bush, where we pump our water everyday



And the days that followed were just filled with carting water, dealing with keeping the carvão hot enough to boil water to drink, and to cook over it, and laying in  the sombra on a bamboo mat reading and contemplating what exactly I have gotten myself into.  It is hard to say the least, the worries of survival do occupy so much time, but when there is that free time it’s hard not to think, why am I out here, in the middle of nowhere.  Knowing that other volunteers have internet, running water and a beach view also doesn’t make the bitter more sweet.  In the end, it comes down making my own experience, and I can honestly say, on this 7^th day, that there is a

reason why I am out here.  My experience is going to be pure, true and with that extremely difficult.  Would I sacrifice the rawness of my current reality for some electricity? No.  Now all I can do is complain, but that isn’t going to make a cold beer just appear in my hand, or electricity just happen, the only remedy is to venture.

And so, after 7 days of ‘mato’ survival training, enough was enough.  I was going a bit crazy sleeping every night in a pool of my own sweat, only to wake up to find new mosquito bites (despite being underneath a mosquito net all night and bathing in bug spray) and taking 3 hours to cook a decent meal.  I found console only in the bountiful and delicious mangos, but that could only suffice so much.  On brink of a break down, I proposed to  just leave Dombe and go to Chimoio to get food, things for our house and more than anything a mental break from concentrating on surviving 24-7. 



Fixing the Chapa tire in the mountains on the path to Chimoio



By1400h we were at a chapa stop, waiting to be whisked out of there.  Now, a chapa is pretty much a gutted out van with 4 rows of bench seats, and at the end of each row is a fold out jump seat.  It is standard for each row to have at least 4 people, just to give an idea of ‘public transportation’ here in Mozambique.  After waiting an hour and a half it came, and with our luck there was room for 2 more…YES!  We squeeze in and the trek began.  I must say the road out of Dombe is beautiful, winding up and down through mountains, “Cuidado por Elefantes” signs, tall trees, wild greenery everywhere, just beautiful country side, or ‘campo’ (a less harsh word than ‘mato’) .  About 20 minutes into the ride I hear a yelp from the back of the chapa, I turn around and just see an elderly woman sitting calmly next to her husband and think, hmm that’s an odd sound she is making.  I hear it again, and turn around to the women laughing and explaining that there is apparently a goat under her seat.  Of course, how could I not have known that screech was coming from a tied up farm animal underneath you’re seat.  The ride continued, a few passengers would get off, and some would get on, at one point there were 25 people in the chapa, not including the goat and 3 chickens that were also being stowed away.  About half way, there was a big "thud" coming from the back tire, we pull over on a dirt path in the middle of the moutains.  Everyone proceeds to file out, and the driver patches up whatever was wrong with the tire, while people stretch, a little girl pees right next to the van, all the while the goat is screeching in the back seat.  Finally, after 2 and a half hours of a bumpy yet scenic ride, we arrive in Sussundenga, the transfer spot you could say, since from there the city of Chimoio is only 45 minutes.  About half the passengers get out, and the other half wait for the chapa to fill back up so we can head to Chimoio.  After 15 minutes and 3 street donuts from a kid carrying a basket full of them, a passenger explains that  our driver will not make the trip to Chimoio unless he fills up the chapa, to get his moneys worth.  So, we are suddenly told to get out and that there is another ride for us, so all of us bound for Chimoio transfer to our new transport, a giant flat bed truck.  We climb on, assembling ourselves on top of tarp covering unknown cargo, and next thing we know it was 10 or so of us, and our new goat friend, are bouncing in the back of this cargo truck.  The night had already fallen at this point; the warm night air felt amazing, and the distant thunder storms were beautiful.  After  a quick 45 minutes we reached our destination, jumped off, thanked the driver and just like that went from ‘mato’ to city.  So, on this 7^th day, after a long journey, I

have found refuge in cold sodas, hamburgers, ice cream, lit streets, a hot shower and friends.

FLASHES......

Ok, I literally have less than 5 minutes of internet time to tell you all the mayhem that has been my life in just this first week. I am currently living in Namaacha, Mozambique, rural town on the border with Swaziland.  I coexist with chickens, which is a first, and learned to embrace the 4am rooster calls.  I have two host brothers who are 16 and 10, and a host mom...lets just say rice and beans are my most frequented dish.  Bucket bathing is AMAZING, I love it, its my new favorite, conserves so much water and feels great.  Portugese is coming along, hopefully next time ill be able to throw in some phrases with confidence.

In just this first week, I am finding beauty in places where a month ago I would have never been able too.  Things happen in flashes, much like the thunderstorms that have been happening these past couple of nights, frightening yet beautiful.

well, times up. much <3

Don't Worry Be Happy

After nearly 30 hours of travel, I am here.. exhausted, excited....READY.

SO HAPPY! We are finally here!!!!

So, first impressions? Hard to say. The drive from the airport to our hotel is all I have been able to see so far.  It is the capital, so it was bustling with people, lots of run down stands selling random stuff, women balancing baskets on their heads, little kids playing futbol with sandals on..pretty much what you can stereotypically assume, but let me say that seeing it first hand is impacting. 

After this drive, I was finally able to put down my 90 lb luggage, take a deep breath, and let reality settle in. Hoyo Hoyo Hotel (means "Welcome Hotel") was where I did the settling, laid down and relaxed for a moment.  After a bit, though, the warm welcomes, warm weather and well to be honest, the warm dinner waiting downstairs gave me enough motivation to get up and eat a meal with my fellow PCT's.  Definitley worth it, chicken, crab, pasta with meat, and squash soup, new flavors that I loved and warmed my soul.

So, with a full belly, I feel asleep 10,000 miles away from home, but ready to embrace this new place as my new home.

Boa Noite

A Toast...

first blog before taking off to the motherland.
Spent it packing, saying goodbyes and of course busting out the bubbly.

The unknown awaits...as I figure it out, Ill let you know.