Another Traveling Adventure

Traveling in Mozambique is no easy feat, especially going long distances. Because of a JUNTOS conference held in northern Mozambique earlier this month, I had a great excuse (and a plane ticket!) to go up and explore a few places I thought I'd never make it to.  

But let's start at the beginning of my traveling adventure with my friend, Taylor.  

As soon as we left the Peace Corps office and started heading to get some egg sandies before hitchhiking to Beira, where we'd catch our flight to Nampula the next day, the most unexpected thing happened.  As we were walking down Chimoio's main street, we saw a homeless man crossing the street and approaching us.  This is nothing too out of the ordinary, they normally ask us white folk for money, or just stand holding their hands out to us with a sad look on their face.  So I was completely unexpecting when the man walks up and without rhyme or reason punches me in the face.  Taylor and I stood looking at each other dumbfoundedly as the man slowly jogs off across the street again, acting like nothing had happened.  It took me about five minutes to wrap the mind around the fact that I had been punched in the face, and yet not even deserved it.  Now it's a really good (and still semi-unfortunate) story, but when I find myself thinking about it I'm still just like...umm what?  So that's how the adventure to the north started out, but luckily it only got better along the way.

The rest of the trip to Beira was uneventful (luckily!). The next day, we flew to Nampula, and before I knew it I was reunited with Maggie, one of my best friends from training.  We traveled together with another good friend from training, Stephen, to Ilha de Moçambique to spend the weekend exploring the beautiful old Portuguese island and ex-capital of Mozambique.  

Ilha was absolutely beautiful.  We walked around the island, explored the over 500 year old Portuguese fort, and caught up after 4 months of not seeing each other.  The fort was absolutely awesome, but we did have a little incident with bats in the church at the center of the fort. (Gross!) 

Hanging out on an old cannon inside of the fort!

On the roof of the fort!

Maggie and I on the altar in the old church.

Our group shot in the church, right before the bat incident. EEK!

Another picture in the fort, the old church on the left side
 in the background.

After a short stay in Ilha, Maggie headed back to her site as Stephen and I continued on to meet up with some other friends in Meconta, one of our fellow PCV's sites.  We stayed the night in Meconta, catching up with other 19ers and eating delicious food (Thanks Jamie and Nick!), and left early the following morning to quickly head into Nampula city and later travel to the northern-most province in Mozambique, Cabo Delgado.

After a long day of traveling, the five of us traveling together finally made it to Pemba around 6 pm.  We met up with another fellow volunteer who showed us the way to where we'd be staying for the following 3 nights.  The place was awesome, complete with a pool, and a large TV that played BBC news every morning so we got caught up on what was happening in the world!  

In Pemba, we walked around a lot and explored the city, the market (where they sold fried calamari and shrimp -- of course they were out of shrimp while we were there -- for lunch for super cheap!), and the beach!  Pemba is an incredible city: extremely beautiful, extremely fun, yet extremely expensive. So after 2 days in Pemba, we were broke and headed back down to Ilha for beer olympics!

Beer Olympics are usually a country-wide annual event, but because of the political tension in Sofala province and the travel ban between the northern and southern parts of Mozambique, it was made a regional event this year.  Conveniently enough, our conference was scheduled for the day after Beer Olympics, so there were representatives from almost every province present.  There were 4 teams competing, and I was part of "The Others",  the mismatched people that came from lots of different places to join the competition. I didn't compete in any drinking events (because everyone is wayyyy too intense and would make me super nervous) but I was a great cheerleader!  Most importantly, I got to meet a lot of the newer PCVs and say goodbye to a few that will be leaving here soon.  And I got to be reunited with Maggie and Hannah, my training besties!

Maggie, Hannah, and I repping our teams in our different shirts.

Moz 19ers at the Norte Forte Beer Olympics 2014!

Lisa and Helen!  They are fellow central PCVs and keep my sanity!

The morning after Beer Olympics, everyone involved in JUNTOS left super early to head to our conference, the real reason why most of us were up in the north.  We spent two days with the new JUNTOS leadership team, talking about the JUNTOS program, where we see it going, and handing over our responsibilities to the new kids in charge.  This year was also the first year to have Mozambican counterparts involved in the handover conference, so that was a great accomplishment for our leadership team.  From central Mozambique, we brought an awesome counterpart that has done AMAZING things with his JUNTOS groups in Gorongosa, Sofala.  I am confident in this new group of JUNTOS leadership, and am so excited to hear about all of the wonderful growth JUNTOS will experience because of them!

The central JUNTOS representatives!

After our conference, we flew back to Beira, took a bus back to Chimoio, and eventually about two weeks after leaving, I made it back to Messica.  I was so relieved to be home...and then I had to go to school.

We are now in our second trimester of the year, but the material is getting harder, and the workload isn't getting any lighter.  Recently I've had students coming to my house every morning.  As soon as one student leaves another comes.  I've had no break, and I've been explaining the same problems over and over again.  These aren't my students, they are my colleague's students, and he's giving them work that is wayyyyy too hard for them.  There's not much I can do to help them when they can't do simple math such as plotting a point on a graph or subtracting fractions when they're in 12th grade. Frustrations like these won't go away, but I am going to start to limit my time tutoring students to 1 hour a day, because otherwise I have no time to myself and no time to do anything besides tutor them.  Also after a frustrating morning of tutoring, I have to go to a frustrating day of teaching, and that's too much frustration for me to handle with a positive attitude.  I'm hoping that limiting tutor time will help my mood and be a good compromise.

In other news, we have received our first email about close of service (COS).  COS is a process that lasts over a month, because not everyone can leave the country at the same time.  COS week includes lots of appointments, and logistically over 50 people COSing at the same time would just never work.  The first week Moz 19 will be COSing is the first week of November, and the last week is the 2nd week of December.  We are supposed to find out our individual dates towards the end of June, so soon I will know when I will be America bound!

I'm sure with everything going on in the next few months, November will be here in no time!

Catching up

First off, I would like to apologize for my lack of blogging for the past month(ish). I've been sick on and off for the past month so that has made me feel unmotivated to do anything, especially things not 100% necessary to living, therefore blogging was put at the end of my to-do list. 

Since my last post over a month ago, a lot has been going on.  The sequence of events is lost on me, because when I got sick for the first time all the days kind of blurred into one, but over the last month I met a lot of new volunteers at a gathering called Coesao and also lost another one of my colleagues at school.

Coesao is an event where all of the volunteers from the 3 central provinces of Mozambique come together to hang out.  We like to have Coesao a couple of times a year, the first being around March so that all of the older volunteers can meet the newest volunteers to the region.  Unfortunately because of political unrest Sofala province couldn't join us at our Coesao gathering, so it was just Manica and Tete.  The weekend was held at Casa Msika, which is located just on the other side of the main highway from the villa of Messica, so while others had a day’s worth of travel to arrive, I just had a 30 minute walk. J  Rough life.  The weekend was great fun!  Some people even saw the infamous giraffes that I've heard about since I arrived here but had started to believe were a grand myth.  I still have yet to see them, but I swear I will before I leave at the end of the year!

Sometime after Coesao, I got sick.  My throat was sore and raw and I couldn't speak very well or loudly. Because of this, it would have been pointless to go to class where I would have to scream over my students.  I sent work with my roommate to deliver to my classes, and settled in for a few days.  When my sore throat got better, I developed a horrible cold.  I couldn't say three words without sneezing.  More days at home.  More visitors wishing me well and telling me to stay at home until I was fully recovered.  More students making sure their ‘Professora’ was still alive and well.  The Monday of the following week, I showed up to school just to be told by the school’s director that I was not well enough to teach and I had to go home.  So.  Frustrating.

Sometime during the week after being very sick but before everyone accepted that I was better and ready to be working again, another tragedy struck our school community.  Another professor of physical education was hospitalized in Beira from being sick, and he suddenly died.  I actually knew this professor and his death was especially hard for the community, especially after the death of his physical education colleague not even a month earlier.

Professor Pontavida was always very friendly towards me…sometimes too friendly.  He was constantly seen around Messica in his cowboy hat to block the sun as he was out in the field giving his lessons in the heat.  He repeatedly insisted that I come to his house and go on walks with him.  He would call me incessantly, letting the phone ring for minutes each time.  He somehow didn't get that I was interested, so I had to invent a boyfriend that didn't want me to hang out with him or go to his house.  Slowly the calls and invitations stopped, and I was happy to be rid of the admirer.  I saw him about a month before his death, before left Messica to go to Beira to study.  We waved and had a short yet polite conversation. 

When I heard about his death, I was shocked.  He was so young, no older than 35.   He had such a kind heart.  I used to see him at church on Sunday’s.  I used to pass his classes when I walked to and from school.  I just didn't know how to feel, what to think, what to do about his death.  Some teachers pitched in money to give to his family, which I gladly contributed to.  Other teachers made the long journey to Beira for the funeral, which I chose not to do.  Honestly, we weren't that close, and I had a lot of ground to make up in my classes from my sick days.  Nonetheless, we are still dealing with the loss of his presence in our community.  We lost 2 out of 3 physical education teachers in one month, and I pray that everyone else stays well and our community doesn't experience any more loss in the near future. 

That brings us up to last weekend when I co-led a training for all of our JUNTOS counterparts in Manica, Sofala, and Tete provinces.  Being co-central coordinators, fellow PCV Taylor and I worked together for weeks planning the conference, and it was finally time to make it happen. 

My plan was to bring one of the French teachers from school to the training so that he could help me start a theater group with interested students.  Well, it so happened that his wife had her first baby a few days before the training, so  on Friday I got a message saying that he wouldn't be able to attend.  It just so happened that I was on a chapa, waiting for it to leave Messica for Chimoio.  Another colleague from school, Frio, got in and sat next to me.  As we got to chatting, he asked why I was going to Chimoio and I told him all about JUNTOS. Frio expressed his interest in the program (and Sarah and I had previously talked about how he would be a good counterpart), so I invited him to the training for the weekend.  He thought about it for a few minutes and then excitedly accepted!  It all worked out and I had a counterpart for the weekend after all!

My counterpart, Frio, and I at the JUNTOS training!

Counterparts and PCVs arrived in Chimoio on Friday – the same day that my colleague agreed to attend the training.  The conference started on Friday afternoon with us talking about what JUNTOS is, our objectives, and trading experiences from the existing JUNTOS groups.  We have a few wonderful counterparts in our region that are doing excellent things, and it’s always inspiring to hear them talk about their groups.  Then Saturday was filled with sessions about community events, workshop planning, workshop sessions, and how to evaluate your group.  Saturday evening, we finished our training by handing out certificates and taking lots and LOTS of pictures.  Though we were thrown a couple of curve balls during the weekend, Taylor and I took them in stride, and I would say that the training was definitely a success!

On Sunday, upon arriving back in Messica, I got really sick again.  I had a fever and a horrible piercing stomach pain.  Monday was Mozambican Women’s day, and I laid in bed all day feeling awful.  Tuesday, I was advised to go into Chimoio to be checked out at the clinic, and on Wednesday I found out that I have an intestinal infection.  Currently I am on day 4 of antibiotics, and I’m only feeling stomach pain every now and again. 

Last weekend I submitted my application to volunteer with Christian Appalachian Project for a year beginning in January 2015.  I volunteered with them in March of 2012 for their Workfest program through Ohio State, and absolutely loved the work they were doing repairing homes in Appalachia.  I have volunteered with Habitat for Humanity in the past and I love it.  I’m hoping to be selected to be a part of the home repair crew permanently for the year of 2015.  If not, I’m hoping to work with the youth services program that CAP also offers.  We’ll see what God has in store for me post-Peace Corps, but I’m really excited, and I really feel like CAP will be the right fit for me after my Peace Corps journey.

And though this blog post has been a little bit all over the place, I would like to mention one more majorly important thing:

In Messica, Sarah and I are trying to raise money to build benches and tables around our school grounds.  There is currently one (I repeat ONE) concrete bench for some 2500 students, 70 teachers, and thousands of community members.  Our grant got approved, all we need is the funding to make this happen.  If you or anyone would like to donate to our project, we will be SO grateful.  Here is the link!

I won't lie...

 it's been a rough week.

On Tuesday, I attended the funeral of one of my colleagues in Messica.  Angelo taught physical education at the secondary school, and he died on Sunday after being sick for a few months.  As normal in Mozambique, I don't know what he was sick from..."he was just sick," everyone says. Could have been malaria, HIV, or something else completely random.  What I do know is that by the showing of teachers, students, community members, family, and friends, Angelo was very loved and well respected in Messica.

I didn't know Angelo well.  I honestly don't even know what he looks like.  I talked to him on the phone once, and everyone at the school says if I saw him I would recognize him.  Regardless, Sarah and I went to the funeral with the rest of the teachers and staff of the school.  We arrived at Angelo's house at 9 am on Tuesday to a huge crowd of teachers, students, and other community members.  I heard women wailing, and shortly after I arrived the woman next to me started breaking down and crying.

After standing for a few minutes outside the family's house, everyone started piling into open back trucks to be taken to the cemetary.  Sarah and I looked at each other for a minute having a silent conversation, "Are we really going to get into one of these super crowded truckbeds?"

And we knew the reality of the situation.  Yes, yes we were.  There was no other transport.  The walk to the cemetary was long, and we also had absolutely no idea where we were going.  It was either get in the back of the truck or go home.

So we found a truck with some colleagues in it, and they squeezed us in.  I was in the back of the group of people standing, and the lady that climbed in after me was sitting on the edge of the truck behind me.  When the truck started moving on the bumpy (and I mean BUMPY) dirt roads of Messica, I was close to falling countless times.  I only started feeling more secure when I grabbed a woman's shoulder, held on to Sarah for dear life, and when the woman behind me (who could obviously see that I was new to the truckbed-surfing ordeal) put her hand on my butt to steady me.  Instead of feeling violated with her hand on my butt for the 10 minutes that went on for days to get to the cemetary, I was so grateful for her hand steadying me and making me feel less like I was about to tumble to my death.

When the truck finally stopped I hopped out, happy to be in one piece.  We set in for our walk through the mato to get to the spot where Angelo would be buried.  After about a 20 minute walk, we waited for awhile with the crowd, and eventually headed to the burial site.

Angelo was buried next to his father on his family's property in a beautiful shady spot which was a perfect place to have a funeral.  I stood surrounded by students, colleagues, strangers, and friends and listened to beautiful words about the life of Angelo and God's decision that it was time to bring Angelo home.  Soon after, the casket was lowered into the ground and buried.  Then as is tradition in Manica province, rocks were put on top of the grave, and all of us teachers were called forward to lay flowers on top of the grave.

All of the teachers gathered around together and sang the anthem for all teachers here in Mozambique.  After another quiet moment, everyone started retreating to the trucks/cars to take them back into town.

I walked away with some colleagues and my school director, and upon reaching the already-full trucks, we decided it would be best to walk back to town.  I happily walked with them through the beautiful terrain of Messica and back to the main highway, the EN6.

After walking a few minutes and crossing the bridge over the Messica River, I was at the front of our group.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye, someone that I had been walking with was quickly running after a jam-packed flatbed truck.  "What is he doing?"  I asked myself.  "Does he want to jump onto that truck?  Is he crazy?  It's already way too full!"

Just then, the back of the truck came into view.  The man I was walking with was not running to the truck to get on it, he was running to the truck to stop it and rescue the two girls who were dangling from the back of it, only hooked on by their knees.  Apparently when the truck lurched forward these girls were not secure, and were pulled backwards by the weight of all of the other people in the truck.

When we realized what was happening, the rest of the group ran over to try to help. I was standing there not really knowing what to do when the girl on top grabbed me and started using me to support her weight.  The girl on the bottom was screaming, crying, and pleading for help.  Eventually, one person was able to get themselves loose enough to get out of the truck, and soon after other people were slowly able to move as well.  They were literally so jammed in there that it was impossible for any of them to move.  After a few minutes that seemed like years, the girls' legs were freed and they were able to stand again.  Though they were extremely sore afterwards, as far as I've heard both girls are still fine.

If not for the group of us walking along, one or both of those girls would have fallen to their deaths. I keep replaying the scenario over and over in my head, and I know for a fact that I will never again stand in an open-bed truck.  No thank you.  That was terrifying.

After the funeral, most people went home and there were little to no teachers to give their lessons that day.

On Wednesday morning after working out and getting ready to take a bath, I greeted my nextdoor neighbor who is also a colleague at the school.  He gave me some more bad news: another colleague had lost his baby daughter in Chimoio.  I didn't know the other colleague very well either, though I'm sure I'd recognize him.  Many teachers went to the funeral on Thursday, but Sarah and I hadn't been well informed of the goings on, so we just stayed in Messica and gave lessons on Thursday afternoon.

Then on Thursday afternoon at school I got the news that one of my students' nieces had died.

And on Friday morning, my best friend Otilia arrived at the clinic in Chimoio in so much pain that she was unable to talk or walk, and could only scream and cry in agony.  Otilia had tested positive for malaria a week and a half ago, and had already taken medicine for it.  Apparently the malaria that she has is too strong for the medicine she was given.  She tested positive with the most serious type of malaria that you can have.  She stayed in the clinic last night, and has now been released.  She will stay in Chimoio for the next week with her cousin and get treatments at the clinic daily.  Hopefully this time it will work, because I can honestly say I don't think I can go through seeing her in that much pain again.  It was awful.

So clearly, this week has been tough.  I feel like death is all around me.  Malaria is out in full force.  Last night, even with screens on my doors, I think I got 10 mosquito bites in 5 minutes.

Thanks to all those who have been praying for Otilia!  Please continue to pray for her and to pray for those suffering from malaria, HIV, and other illnesses both here in Mozambique and around the world.  Please pray for the families that are feeling the loss from the recent deaths in my community.  I am feeling the prayers and I am blessed by them!

A Rough Start

The first day of classes this year was February 4th. I was scheduled to teach 11th grade ciencias and letras and 12th grade letras.  In Mozambique, there are two tracks (three at some schools but two at ours) when you get to 11th and 12th grade.  Every student must choose a track to graduate with.  Ciencias is the science track so along with portuguese, english, and other core subjects, students take biology, physics, and chemistry.  They have 4 hours of math per week. Letras is the letters track so they take core subjects along with history, geography, and french among others that I'm probably forgetting.  Letras has 3 hours of math per week.

Last year I taught 11th grade ciencias and letras: 3 turmas of ciencias and 1 turma of letras.  I found the difference between the two tracks absolutely shocking last year.  My letras students were SO far behind with much less understanding of the basics of math, though all of the students finished 10th grade together so should have had about the same levels of math knowledge.  I struggled in teaching letras because I had trouble moving from one topic to the next when over half of the class still wasn't understanding.  This got me in some trouble with my colleague who encouraged me to give homework to catch them up and continue to follow the curriculum and rush everyone through it.  Regardless of what my colleague said, I couldn't ignore over half of the class, and I also couldn't just give homework to catch them up or they would just copy the one person that knew how to do it.  Consequently, I didn't finish the curriculum last year for my letras turma and ended the year teaching them how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide integers.  At the end of the year maybe 50 percent of my students could get 8/10 integer operation problems correct.  And I called that a win.

So let me repeat:  this year, I was scheduled to teach 11th grade ciencias and letras and 12th grade letras.   Immediately, I had some reservations about teaching 12th grade letras.  The 12th grade curriculum includes limits, derivation, and integration.  Does that sound like something that students that can't do simple integer operations have any business learning?  It sure doesn't to me.  Thinking that it would be best to be honest about the situation, I approached my pedagogical director with the issue.  I explained that the curriculum is way too difficult for the level of the students, and with the letras especially there is just no way that I would be able to finish the curriculum.  I suggested if the curriculum was super important to him, that he give my turmas of 12th grade letras to a different teacher.  As we were in the middle of our conversation, the other 12th grade teacher butts in...

It just so happens that the only other teacher for 12th grade math is my douchey colleague that I have written about in the past (and is the colleague referred to above).  I think last time, I called him Fred.  So let's go with that.

Fred is the worst.  Seriously, though.  He asks me for all my work, asks me for money, sleeps with students, takes bribes, basically he's just everything that's wrong with the educational system in this country.  Lucky me for getting to work with him, right?

So he butts into my conversation and basically hijacks it, saying "Don't worry, Director, I'll deal with her and let you know what happens."  Nice, right?  After reliving the incredibly frustrating "just give them more homework" conversation that we have had approximately 10 times, I finally told Fred that I refuse to teach 12th grade letras if they are going to be mad at me about the curriculum.  I suggested that instead of teaching 11th grade ciencias and letras, and 12th grade letras, I would teach both 11th and 12th grade ciencias, and he could teach 11th and 12th grade letras.  That would give us the same amount of hours, and teaching 12th grade ciencias would be at least a little easier because the ciencias kids like math more and in general understand math better.  My ciencias kids from last year had also come up to me furious that I wasn't their math teacher.  They threatened to go on strike unless it changed.  As well as making me feel good about myself, it made me want to be their teacher again even more.

Of course Fred wouldn't accept that.  I don't know why, I was trying to make his life easier, but he insisted that I was trying to make things harder on him somehow.  After two days of being frustrated to tears (literally, I cried at school the first two days of this year...and even had to go home the second day because I was so mad...), my pedagogical director eventually decided that my suggestion was the best possible solution.  They didn't want to just give my 12th grade hours to Fred, because then they would have to pay him more and I'm free labor so that would really make no sense.  So moral of a long, long story, I'm now teaching 11th and 12th grade ciencias.  And I have to say I'm happy about it!

The first day I walked into my turma from last year, I got a round of applause and some cheering that could apparently be heard from two rooms away (Sarah could hear them where she was teaching).  I literally felt like a celebrity.  It made me smile and made me realize that maybe this year will actually be okay.  I was doubting it for awhile with the whole Fred fiasco.

But along with my happy ciencias students, there were also the very disappointed letras students who felt abandoned by me.  Let me make this clear, my intention was not to abandon my letras students.  Some of them work extremely hard and really want to understand math, but I just knew I wouldn't get through the curriculum and thought being honest would be for the best.  Maybe that wasn't the best choice.  I'm still not sure.

Some of my letras students have been to my house multiple times since the school year started for math help, which I encourage.  I just don't like the reason why they've had to come here.

Apparently Fred hasn't been doing much teaching.  The first day of class, he walked into the classroom, wrote 5 problems on the board, and walked out.  My students didn't know how to approach the problems at all, they had no instructions, so they came over.  I helped them work out the problems and that was that.  I got another visit from them last week with a similar situation.  They had no explanation and more problems to do.  This morning they came over again.  Fred had given them one example in class and gave them two homework problems that they had absolutely no idea how to do.  After showing them my notes from my lesson and explaining how to do the problems, they were content to have some sort of understanding of the material.  Then they presented me with a three page packet of questions from past national exams.  They told me that the packet is due on Monday.  Now, I also gave this packet to my students, but the difference is that these students hadn't had a lesson in class about almost all of the material in the packet.

I told them that it would be impossible to do the packet without at least a few more lessons, but they insisted that Fred made the packet due on Monday.  I asked them to ask him for an extension on the packet, and they looked at me and started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"  I asked
"Because...you can't just ask for an extension."  One student said.
"Why not?" I asked
"Because he will just fail us." The other student answered.
"Then why don't you go talk to the pedagogical director about him?"
"Because he will find out and then fail us." They answered again.
"So...what can you do?"
"Just accept it.  And ask you for help."
"Well what about if I say something to the pedagogical director?"
"No, teacher.  He will find out.  He will fail us."
"So I can't do anything to help you?"
"No, you just have to accept it.  That's how it is here in Mozambique."

There are really no words to express how I feel about this system that makes it impossible for students to help themselves or even for other teachers to help them.  The only thing I can do is sit and watch.  And teach these two students who are obviously the only ones in the turma that care about learning math and not just copying the answers from someone else.  That is another reality of the situation that makes me extremely sad:  everyone else in the turma clearly has no idea what's going on, but they don't care enough to ask because they know they can just pay to pass the class.  It's just so wrong.  But what can I do?  Teach the ones that come to me.  And teach them without someone to break this cycle of corruption, it will just continue.

These students are scared to speak up, but without speaking up, how can changes be made?  Not that changes would definitely be made, but they definitely won't be with students scared into silence.

The worst part is that I absolutely believe them.  Fred would find out.  He would fail them.  And they don't deserve to be failed.  Of the entire turma, these are the ones that deserve to pass.  So what do I do?  How do I proceed?

Well I told the students to do as much of the packet that they could and to come on Sunday so I can help them with the parts that they can't do.  I also told them to come to the first meeting of the school's new Math Club that will be held on Monday morning at my house.  I'm excited to see if students actually show up.  If so, I'm hoping to pair up ciencias students that are very good at math with the letras students that struggle and set up tutoring.  That way, ciencias students will be able to practice explanation skills and letras students will benefit from the explanations.  I am also hoping to do logic puzzles and exercises to have a little fun with math.  I taught some students to do sudoku last year, so maybe I'll introduce that again.

All I really know at this point is that even after almost a year and a half in country, I still have many struggles here.  For the next year, I hope I have the patience to put up with Fred and I hope to help the students as best as I can.

Something else that I know for sure: when I leave in November I will be giving my school strict instructions. If they get another Peace Corps Volunteer to teach math, they WILL NOT be working with Fred.  Not that I can verify that they listen to me, but I can try my hardest to make my voice heard.  And I promise you, I won't be sitting around silent and permit other PCVs to be used in the same way I've been by him.  Luckily my school director's a reasonable man, and I actually think he'll listen to me.

Wish me luck for the rest of this year.  I can tell it's going to be a tough one.

Ferias

In Mozambique, December is the tempo de ferias or time of the holidays.  I did mine up well with my visit from my Mom, sisters, and Jamie to Mozambique followed up by my three week vacation to the land of all the food, people, and delicious drinks I've been dreaming of for the past 15 months.

 Well, let's back up.  All the way to Thanksgiving.  Sarah and I hosted Thanksgiving in Messica.  We invited everyone nearby to come over and eat delicious food and just hang out as our central Peace Corps family.  Coesao!  It was so much fun to show off our site!  After our turkey finding and killing adventure on Wednesday, on Thursday everyone showed up ready to eat, and we feasted away!  After our dinner we took a walk around Messica, and ended up at the school where we tossed around a football for awhile in the field.  Everyone around thought it was hilarious to see a bunch of white people throwing around and dropping a weirdly shaped ball.  Eventually our small circle evolved into a bigger one with some Mozambicans thrown into the mix.  They really enjoyed tossing with us, even if some of us -- mainly me -- were not so good at throwing.  Though I must say, I improved a lot as we continued tossing!

Everyone at the waterfalls of Namaacha

A couple of days after Thanksgiving, I flew down to Maputo to meet everyone.  My flight got in around 11 am and I sat around in the airport for what felt like eternity until 2:30ish when Mom, Frances, Claire, and Jamie came out of the international terminal.  Our hugs were a little awkward with all of our baggage on, and a little short-lived because our ride to the hostel was already taking bags and whisking us away to his van.

It was a quick and scary ride for the new-to-Mozambique Americans in the car.  I was used to the crazy driving of Mozambicans, especially in the city, but it's not something normal to the average American.  After putting our stuff down and settling in, I made water and bank runs, and eventually we headed off to dinner.  Immediately after dinner, we all headed for bed, excited for the next day's adventure: Namaacha.

A little Ohio love from Mozambique!

Since my family refused to get in a chapa, I organized a private car to take us to Namaacha.  After a leisurely breakfast, I called our ride to pick us up.  He appeared shortly after and proceeded to drive at a snail's pace to Namaacha.  No joke.  It was ridiculous.  It took us close to three hours to drive what should have taken us an hour to an hour and a half.  I arrived in Namaacha with mixed feelings, thrilled to see my family (and Walmer!!), pissed about how long it took us to get there, and extremely hungry.

The visit in Namaacha was great!  My family's meeting was absolutely surreal, but made a little difficult with the language barrier.  I did my best to translate important things, but I am by no means a translator and had never tried to translate before.  Regardless, my Mozambican family had provided a feast for my American family that truly showed off the Mozambican hospitality that I love so much.  I feel so blessed to have the opportunity for my families to meet and it was truly an experience that I will never forget.

My host sisters Veronica and Dadinha, Claire, Mae, Walmer and I, Frances

The following day we spent in Maputo at the craft market, and exploring the city a little bit.  It was nice to have a day to relax before more travelling the next day: on to Beira.

Neck pillow toss...it's a thing now.

On Wednesday morning, we had our flight scheduled for Beira at 7 am.  We got to the airport around 5 to make sure there wouldn't be any complications, since I was the one speaking for our whole party.  After checking in and waiting around for a few hours the flight was delayed, now to depart at 11 am.  When 11 am rolled around, the loudspeaker came on yet again: cancelled.  Our flight was cancelled.  We were supposed to be arriving at the beach that day.  We were in trouble.  I raced down to the desk and was one of the first in line to get on the next flight: at 9 pm that evening.  All of us got on the flight, so we set off to a long day of...waiting in the airport!  By the end we were going stir-crazy, mom and I had invented a game of neck pillow toss, and the restaurant in the airport had run out of food.  We had to get out of there, and around 11pm, we finally got on our plane and went to Beira.

Arriving after midnight in a city that I am not familiar with was not ideal.  Arriving during a political parade because the newly elected mayor was on our flight was not ideal.  And furthermore shoving ourselves and all of our baggage into one of the tiniest cars of all time to get to our hotel was not ideal.  But we did it, and we made it to our hotel, got into our hotel rooms (with air conditioning!), and fell asleep after a long and stressful day.

Rio Savane Beach.  Simply gorgeous.

Thursday morning we woke up, went shopping for food, and went immediately to the beach.  When we arrived at the river that we had to cross to get to where we were staying, we were told we had to wait a few hours for tide to come in for the boat to be able to cross the river.  Waiting: every American's favorite thing to do.  Eventually we made it into our chalet, and were instantly happy to be in our own space with the gorgeous view and nearby beach.  We stayed at the beach for 6 days.  It was absolutely beautiful and I can't wait to go back this year.

When it was time to go home, one of my pedagogical directors from school picked us up and drove us to Messica.  We stopped in Chimoio on the way to eat lunch at one of my favorite spots and to see the Peace Corps office.  We finally arrived in Messica in the afternoon.  I was stoked to be home and to finally be able to show my family what my actual life in Mozambique is like!

Claire, Mom, Otilia, and I in Messica.

Messica was by far the best and most rewarding part of the trip for me.  I got to see my family interact with my family in Messica.  My family in Messica absolutely LOVED having my family there and received them extremely well...as if there was ever a doubt about that.  My best friend Otilia made us dinner the first night where my family was intrigued to eat gazelle for the first time. It's delicious, by the way.

The next day, my church had planned a big ceremony for the highlight of the trip: turning the statue of Mary and rosary twine over to the Legion of Mary, who up until that point had not had a statue of Mary.  One of my neighbors, Mama Berta, and the rest of the Legion had been planning the party ever since I mentioned the statue to them, and they were so excited about the entire evening.  They sent us a car to pick us up at my house, greeted us at the church with singing, and planned an entire prayer service and following reception for us.  I did some translations throughout the prayer service and introduced all of my family members to the church.  Then the gifts were exchanged.  For my family:  capulanas and lencos (the traditional Mozambican wrap/skirt and head covering).  For the Legion of Mary:  a two foot statue of Mary, twelve rolls of rosary twine, and a prayer book for each of them.  There was crying, dancing, hugs, and praising Jesus, and I couldn't have been happier or more proud to be an American living in Messica, Mozambique at that moment.  Pure joy, pure bliss, pure blessings from God.

Some ladies dancing around Mary and the rosary twine
in thanksgiving.

Claire, Frances, Jamie, and Mom with their capulanas and lencos!

Some of the Legion of Mary of Messica.

The table for the reception after the prayer service.

On our way to Casa Msika.

Our final full day in Messica was spent at a resort called Casa Msika about 7 kilometers from my house.  They have a pool, a restaurant, and some animals, and it seemed like a great way to escape the heat.  It was a great day to spend the rest of the day with my family (and my best friend Otilia came too!) in Messica.

Saturday had finally rolled around again and Jorge was taking us back to Chimoio to the airport.  We had a terrible case of deja vu when our flight was delayed and then cancelled that evening.  The next flight would be the following day; one flight in the morning with limited space, and one in the afternoon.  Our problem was that the day after we had our flight to Ethiopia and continuing on to DC, so we had to make it on the morning flight or we would have been stuck.  Luckily, I made a friend at the airport and told him that we were going to America and he said he would vouch for us and said that we should have priority.  In the mean time, Mozambique's airline put us up in the nicest hotel in Chimoio.  I had looked in the lobby of the hotel before, but had never dared to go inside.  SO NICE.  I was so happy to have a hot shower, comfy bed, and a nice meal.  Literally, it was the cleanest I had felt in 15 months since coming to Mozambique.  I was still nervous about the flight situation the next day, but I tried to make the best of it.

Leaving Messica.  Me, Otilia, Frances, Jorge, Claire.

The next morning, the day of our flight, I got a text from the airline saying:  "This text is to inform you that you have been place on the afternoon flight."  And that's when I started freaking out.  I immediately called the number that had texted me and frantically explained to them our situation.  They claimed to understand and asked for all of the names that needed to be on the first flight.  After hanging up the phone, I immediately sent a text with all of our names written out confirming that we were placed on the first flight.  When I got a text back saying "yes" I was able to relax a little.  But not much.

We decided to go to the airport on the first shuttle anyway since we were already awake and we figured there would probably be some confusion.  We were very right about the confusion part.  So many people crowded around one desk as the one clerk called out one name at a time to print boarding passes for the morning flight.  No semblance of order whatsoever.  Frances, Mom, Claire, and my names were called out towards the beginning and together, which made us feel a little better since we had boarding passes in hand, but Jamie still had none.  I waited with her for what seemed like ages, still in the cluster of people, until her name was called.  When we had her boarding pass in hand, we took a breath of relief.  But we still had to wait for the airplane to show up...and then take off.

Frances and I boarding the plane to Maputo...finally!

Eventually we made it to Maputo and had about 2 hours before our next flight to Ethiopia.  In Ethiopia, we had about an hour before our long flight from Ethiopia to DC, with a stopover in Rome.  That 17 hour flight turned into more like a 19 hour flight with some problems with the plane, and when our stopover took longer than expected.  I didn't mind, really.  The flight was glorious compared to the transportation I am used to in Mozambique.  I slept most of the time, and just woke up to see the Vatican all lit up while our plane was taking off from Italy.  Not too bad, huh?

In DC, I got my first Starbucks in 15 months, and we parted ways with Jamie, who was flying back to California.  I would see her a couple of days later, so it was only a brief separation.  Eventually it came time to get on our last flight to Dayton!  Back in Ohio after 15 months!

First Starbucks!

I'm not going to describe my visit home in detail.  It was a great trip.  I honestly couldn't have asked for anything more.  I had three days in California visiting my babies, a week to spend with my family and to get to know my nephew, and about a week in Columbus to visit friends and enjoy Ohio State sports again.  It couldn't have been any more picture perfect, and I am so so grateful to my parents for making it all happen.

Three weeks after arriving in America, I took my leave.  I wasn't as sad to leave as I'd thought, I was ready to come back to Mozambique and finish out my service.  I love my life in America, but I also love my life in Mozambique.  They are very different, yet they both have molded and changed me into the person that I've become through this PC experience.  I was relieved to know that my life in America was still there when I got home.  My friends were still there, family was still there, and piece of my heart was still there.  Even knowing this, things back at home have changed, just as things in my life have changed.  I've formed a home in Mozambique.  I speak Portuguese.  I have a different outlook.  I have a new normal.  And yet I slid back into my old normal so easily.

New Years Eve in Columbus with my besties!

It's going to be different when I go home for good.  I will never forget this experience, these people, this country, and I will find a way to merge that with my America life.  But for now, I have a Moz life and an America life, and I'm stoked to be back in Moz and start the next school year.

So for the next week I will be in Maputo for my group's mid-service conference.  We have made it more than halfway!  School starts at the beginning of February, so I'm gearing up for another year of teaching, another year of making mistakes, and another year of students trying to cheat by whatever means necessary.

I hope everyone has had a blessed and renewing holiday season.  I know I have!

Have a blessed new year!

The Spirit of Giving

Last Saturday I went to the market in the morning and bought some flip flops.  When I arrived home, I used capulana scraps that I had to cover the straps of the flip flops, and put a flower made of capulana in the middle.  My host sister in Namaacha taught me how to make them, and I decided to try to make them for a few people for Christmas.

After sewing the flip flops, I decided to make them for someone else as a gift, so I returned to the market to buy another pair in the afternoon.  The same man was selling flip flops because I returned to the same stall. As I chatted with him, he asked why I was back so soon, what did I do with the other pair of flip flops.  I had a picture of what I’d made on my phone that I’d send to my mom, so I quickly showed him my handiwork.  He gasped and called out, “São tão bonitas, pa!” (They are so beautiful!)

Just as he exclaimed how beautiful the flip flops were my friend from church, Bernadette, walked up.  She wanted to know what we were talking about and I quickly filled her in and showed her the picture.  Bernadette agreed that the flip flops were tão bonitas and she said that she wanted a pair.

It was then that I got a business proposition. 

“You have to make me more of these so I can sell them!  People will want to buy them!  They are so beautiful!”

“But I can’t make money off of these, sir. “

“That’s fine, you can just give them to me!”

“No, I also don’t have time to sit around and just make you flip-flops all day.”

…then an idea popped into my head.  I recalled that awhile ago, Bernadette had asked me if I had any work at home because she was looking for a job.  She was still standing there, so I looked over at her.

“Bernadette, can I teach you how to make these capulana flip flops?”

“Yes, mana Ana I would love learn how to make them, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to!”

“Trust me, if I can make them, anyone can make them.”

**Everyone laughs at the white girl that can’t sew**

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do:  we’re going to take two pairs of flip flops, and I will teach Bernadette how to make them.  Then she can bring them back and you can pay her for the work she’s done and you can give her more flip flops to sell.”

And that’s how I took two pairs of flip flops to my house (for free!) and set up a lesson to teach Bernadette how to make them.  Last Wednesday, she came over and we each made a flower and each covered one flip flop.   She loved how easy they were to make.  I gave her supplies, instructions, and the flip flops and she took it all home to finish the other pair.

On Friday, I got a call from Bernadette. 

“Mana Ana, I noticed when I was in your house that you and Mana Sara don't have a fridge.”

“Nope, we don't.”

“Well I have an extra one at home that I was thinking that you could borrow.  We aren't using it now and my husband says it’s okay if you take it to your house to use it.”

**stunned silence**

“Would you be interested in using it?”

“Yes, Bernadette, we would love to use it!  That is so nice of you!  Thank you!”

“You can come see it on Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay, we will call before we come.  Thank you again!”

So this afternoon, Sarah and I went over to Bernadette’s house and checked out our soon-to-be fridge.  It is huge and glorious and I am so grateful to her for offering to lend it to us.  Now we have to arrange transportation for the fridge to get to our house, and someone to come put coolant in it so that we can use it…hopefully all before Thursday when we will be hosting Thanksgiving in Messica.

I am so happy with this series of events.  Bernadette will hopefully be able to make about 25 meticais (just under one dollar) from each pair of flip flops that she makes.  She told me today that it took her about 10 minutes to make one flip flop, so that means she could make about 3 dollars an hour.  Not bad for someone who has been looking for work for months.  Hopefully she will teach others how to make them as well and be able to share the business with others struggling to make ends meet.

It is such a blessing to know people that give passionately without thinking twice.  They are such an example to us all.  Bernadette didn't need to call us and offer her fridge, but she did it without thinking twice.

My favorite thing that Mozambicans say that I've heard more times than I can count is:  if I give what little I have, God will only rain down more blessings upon me.  If people in the United States were as hospitable as Mozambicans and had this same philosophy, there would be no homeless, hungry, or lonely.  Everyone would feel the love that comes from being welcomed into a home.  I’m so grateful that I get to see this love firsthand, and I know that I will never forget it.

Site Visitors and National Exams

Last Sunday we received a visitor in Messica from the most recent group of Peace Corps Mozambique trainees.  I was there myself a year ago, and it’s extremely hard to believe that I’m one of the “experienced” volunteers these days.  Our visitor’s name was Ellery, and she will be an English Teacher.  Their group will find out their site placements this coming week, so that’s super exciting for them! 

So our job was to show Ellery the life of a volunteer.  Sarah and I were super happy to be able to show off Messica, what is said to be the best Peace Corps site (from other PCVs too, not just Sarah and I). 

Sunday night, we hung out at home because it was rainy and, let’s be honest, there’s not anything crazy to do in Messica on a Sunday night.  Monday morning we woke up and Sarah headed to the school to check the schedule for National Exams.  We had requested a few weeks early not to proctor exams, and miraculously, they actually listened to us!  Sarah returned about a half hour later with the news that we would only be correcting exams (had no idea what that entailed at the time) and we had the day free!  Yay!

We took Ellery to all of the sites: the market, calamidades, Otilia’s house, the modista, the school, etc.  Everyone was super curious to who the other muzungu walking around was, so we introduced Ellery about 7 bajillion times.  On Monday night, we received some guests in Messica.  The site visitor from Chimoio, Steven, and my friend Anna who lives in Chimoio came out so that Steven could see a more rural Peace Corps site than the city of Chimoio.  We walked around Messica for a little while and made a delicious dinner of pizza, salad, garlic knots, and chocolate chip cookies. 

On Tuesday morning, we woke up and went to Manica to go on a hike.  Our plan was to hike Mount Vumba, the source of central Mozambique’s bottle water supply.  Sarah and I had been by the Vumba plant before in Manica, but we had yet to climb the mountain.  There were 6 of us (3 visiting trainees, 3 volunteers) that wanted to go, so we headed to Vumba to ask permission to climb the mountain.  After the guard led us to an office, we talked to a man told us that we needed to write a formal letter asking permission and the director of Vumba would have to sign off on it before we were allowed to climb.  I was the lucky winner elected to write the pedido, so I got to work and about 5 minutes later had something decent enough to turn in to the director.  Unfortunately, the director had left, so we were stuck either sitting there waiting for him (which could have taken hours and/or days….literally), or killing time in Manica.  After deciding on the latter and walking approximately 30 feet outside of the compound, we got a call saying the director had returned!  It was a Mozambican miracle!  So we turned right back around and headed to the office again.  He granted us permission to climb after doubtfully asking if we would be able to chegar (arrive). He sent us with a guide, which turned out to be a great help as he filled up our water bottles at the source of the Vumba water and showed us lots of cool stuff that Vumba uses for water purification.  When we got to the main source of the water, it was gorgeous but didn’t have a great view of Manica, so we chose to keep climbing for about 15 more minutes to see the city from the top of the mountain.  So worth it.  The view was absolutely beautiful and the breeze was glorious.  After a nice cold beer and some chicken for lunch, Ellery and I headed back to Messica.

Wednesday morning we were beckoned to the school bright and early to sit for quite some time with nothing to do (surprise, surprise).   Eventually we were called into the director’s office to help with the process of correcting National Exams.

Let me tell you, it was a process.  National exams are given at the end of 10^th grade (to progress to 11^th grade) and the end of 12^th grade (to graduate).  The 10^th grade exams are free response, while the 12^th grade exams are multiple choice.  Since the 10^th grade exams are free response and there are way more 10^th graders than 12^th graders, 10^th grade exams are much harder and have much longer of a correction process.

The 10^th grade exam grading process:

1.  Coding the exams.  The same code has to be written on the tests, and the part of the test that is detached with the students’ names.
2.  Cutting the exams.  The students’ names have to be cut off the tests because if the grader can see the students name on the test, they will be able to raise their grades, or write correct answers on the tests.
3.  Locking the exams.  All empty spaces on the answer sheet must be locked.  This means that you have to go through each test and scribble or draw lines through the empty spaces, so that it is noticeable if something has been written after the student turned in the test.
4.  Correcting the exams.  Twice.

So guess who was responsible for numbers 1-3 for all of the 10^th grade tests for every discipline?  Sarah and I.  There were a few other teachers helping as well, but what a long and tedious process that could be avoided if the school system wasn’t so corrupt here.

The 12^th grade grading process is much more straightforward.  The tests are basically done on scantron sheets, so each test must be graded twice.  I am also on the team for grading 12^th grade tests, which we will hopefully finish up tomorrow.  The rest of the week will be spent compiling 12^th graders’ grades and recording them on pautas and in the computer.

And I thought provincial exams were bad…

Luckily, I won’t be around to deal with the second round of national exams this year or national exams at all next year.  Thank God for small favors.

In other news, 3 weeks until some lucky Brandts and a Vanvolkinburg are in Mozambique.  Can’t wait to see this.  Can’t wait to hug them.  I. JUST. CAN’T. WAIT.

…And everyone else in Messica is pretty excited as well.