Snapshots

A very brief slideshow of my year in Mozambique. One more to go!

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Field Day!!!

So for the past month or so I’ve been wanting to do a field day with my kids at the school. They do a soccer tournament, but that’s about it, and I wanted to share with them all the games that I loved playing as a kid during field day in elementary school (which was always one of my favorite days of the year).

This blog is more of a photo collection of all the fun I hope my kids had during field day. It was kind of crazy trying to control about a 150 of them alone without any Mozambican adult supervision, but I managed okay with the help of my emergency blow horn which made the games feel more official and definitely got people’s attention (next time I plan on using my rape whistle, which I totally forgot I had till just now…oops!). I had a great time laughing and so did the students, which is something we all at the school have needed desperately after such a horrific month.

 I hope you get a chance to enjoy these pictures of field day!

FIELD DAY PHOTOS

Kids looking up their names on the Game Schedule: I made these funny cartoon drawings for all the games and put them on a hand made poster with a schedule of which kid would be playing each game against which grades and classes.

My students: gathered for the start of field day at the steps leading down to the soccer field.

Saltine challenge: Whoever can finish the whole packet of saltines wins.

Bajea na Linha: A game where you tie a bajea (bean cake) on a cord. One person holds the cord and the other person has to eat it blindfolded and without using their hands.

Wheelbarrow Race:

Three-Legged Race:

Egg Toss: Using balloons filled with water so as not to waste food. Here, it’s a seriously horrifying thing to say you are going to waste food on purpose. Period. If you ever thought playing with food in the States was bad especially when your mom reminded you of all the starving children in Africa…it’s for real, and definitely a reality for many of the people who live in this town and most of Mozambique.

Sack Race:

Egg and Spoon Race:

 4 Person Relay:

Capture the Flag:

And my all time favorite: Tug-of-War: Haven’t laughed as hard in so long!

If anyone has any suggestions for more games I can play with my kids during field day or just whenever, would love them.

Thanks for taking a look into one of my better days here.

Love you all back home and missing you dearly!

- Saranya

So You Think You Can Dance? …..Like a MOZAMBICAN?!?!?

After that last blog post, I felt the need to lighten the atmosphere a little. It’s not all a serious, depressing, looming past, present, and future…people here make a life for themselves with what they have AND enjoy it too.

This here blog is for you to witness the bright side of Mozambique: to make note of Mozambican style and dress, to hear the language up here in the North (Makua),  to listen to Mozambican music, to glimpse with your own eyes the infamous Mozambican dance moves, and to observe our lovely little town of Carapira. My new life for your entertainment. Be amused : )

Firstly let me say that I hope the video to accompany this blog loads. It’s what makes this blog alive. Otherwise, read on anyway, and be much less amused.

Last month I helped two kids from the bairro film videos for their music to turn into music videos. Morinho and Germano. Morinho (El-Morinho) still attends high school in Monapo and has the Monapo volunteers (Leah and Ariel) as his teachers. Germano (Chico Motors) graduated from Carapira this past year and is now starting to attend institute in Nampula. We spent a total of about 2 hours walking around (in the time before my foot got infected) and filming in sites throughout the bairro to make two music videos; which they did all the editing with a guy (Mr. Cassimo) that has a studio in Monapo. The boys asked if I could sing and dance in one video, and I didn’t think they were actually being serious, just being nice, but turns out I was genuinely mistaken as you’ll hopefully see in the video ; )

Mozambican Style and Dress

The young boys in Mozambique are SO fly. Any chance of appearing cool, and they’ll do it. It just comes so naturally to them. The typical Moz Teen Boy Look is as follows:

o   Shirts are usually like the ones you’d see people wearing in Miami, Jersey Shore, or somewhere along the beach in Southern California. White or black with bright neon colors, or bright colored shirts with tattoo style writing and some kind of graphic design (As you can see with Morinho in the Billabong shirt and Germano in the purple and red shirts with graphic designs). The occasional vest when they are feeling especially cool (Morinho and kid dancing in the middle at the end). For the more professional look always go with a collared shirt (The boys in their red polos) or buttoned down!

o   Pants are always skinny jeans - a little baggy and sagging at the top. Or shorts which can be cargo, jean, or colorful beach shorts which go just below the knee.

o   Shoes are just as colorful. Nike pumps, colorful laces (note the differently colored laces), sheekier tennis shoes, knock-off ChuckTaylors. One of my students at the schools sports some Coach ChuckTaylors. Blew my mind!

o   Accessories can be anything small from the Live-Strong type bands that are in right now (Morinho with the blue arm band) to a gangsta hat (Germano in the red cap). Also, they sport any kind of glasses they can get their hands on. If they are sunglasses, you can wear them as is. But if they are a normal pair, to make them look “cooler” you should poke out the lens and wear the frames only.

To get the Moz Teen Girl Look I’m less certain there is a definite trend, but I’ll attempt give you a general image:

o   Tops are much like the boys. Tight fit shirts, tank tops, tube tops with flowery graphic designs and tattoo style writing. The occasional collared polo shirt like the boys.

o   Pants/Skirts are fit jeans. The sheekier girls, usually that have studied in the cities, are much more open to wearing skirts and shorts that go up to the knee or just above. Cute jean skirts, flowery skirts, and colorful knee length shorts. Dresses are knit or cottony which are usually tube tops with a loose fitting lower half that go down just above the knee or are full length.

o   Shoes are generally flip flops or cute sandals or flats. High heels and wedges are for the extremely sheeky girl.

o   Accessories are all in the hair. “Mesha” or weave is generally considered more sheeky than natural or naturally braided hair. A girl can change her whole look just by changing the style of her mesha. Belts and jewelry and nice hand bags are also for the extremely sheeky.

Mozambican men just aren’t as fly as the younger generations. To get the Moz Man Look:

o   Shirts can be all sorts for the average Moz man.

-T-shirts of all variety: The discarded t-shirts which got sent to Africa are ever so present here and are always so delightful and amusing to see.  American city and college shirts, the oddest of American slogans and graphics, family reunion t-shirts, and of course some of my favorites: In Namaacha I saw a boy with an orange Tennessee Volunteers hoodie. My neighbor occasionally wears an Atlanta Braves T-shirt to work!!! (but this one is cheating because the volunteer who lived here before me is from Atlanta, Georgia – what a coincidence!).  I saw a man the other day wearing a Breast Cancer race shirt. Oh so many more! And always a pleasure.

            - Long-sleeved collared shirts: Mostly white or blue for those who work. Other colors too.

            - Collared shirt or polo: Not like the bright colors worn by the boys, but much darker and professional or white.

o   Pants are often loose, tattered, dirty, baggy jeans or baggy slacks of all colors: khaki, tan, gray, black, faded bluish-gray.

o   Shoes are usually old tattered tennis shoes, sometimes nicer dress shoes for the more professional, and flip flops.

o   Accessories aren’t many but are amusing if you happen to see them. A baseball cap, a straw hat, a one shoulder messenger bag.

Mozambican women in contrast to the men, are almost always extravagantly dressed. The most colorful, beautiful, wildest colors you’ve ever seen never fail to stand out and sparkle in a drab and sand covered “terra.” To get the Moz Woman Look:

o   Shirts are usually the same tight fit variety the girls wear. But sometimes you see fancy “fatos” or suits with top half and bottom made of capulana material. The blouse usually has slightly puffed sleeves and buttons, which make any woman here look extremely authoritative.

o   Skirts: Your average Mozambican woman sports a “capulana” which is a piece of fabric about a meter long that she ties around her waist like a skirt. The number, color, and variety of capulanas are innumerable. They vary depending on season, year, region, and even districts have their own capulanas. I don’t know the company that makes all these capulanas, and I don’t know if there are different manufacturers but you can buy them anywhere…anywhere in Africa that is; they just have different names in other countries. There are stalls of just capulanas in any city you go, and are about 5 US dollars a piece. The ways in which you can tie a capulana are also innumerable, and every woman has her own unique way of tying a capulana for different purposes. You aren’t Mozambican if you don’t know how to “amarrar” or tie a capulana.

o   Pants: You don’t really see women wear pants here. It’s rare, and sometimes looked down upon for Mozambican women to wear pants, but I love it when I see it. My “empregada” (the lady that brings my water) is unique in that she is extremely sporty and is not ashamed to wear pants. 

o   Side note on other news in Carapira:  I was just made “Donna” of the women’s soccer league here. I had heard that the women of the bairro have a soccer league of their own which starts during the dry months, and I had expressed to my empregada that I would love to join and play with them. Then a few days later I had women of the bairro coming up to me and asking me when we were going to start playing, and just the other day Manuel (my neighbor who is the coach for one of the men’s teams) came over and basically made me in charge of the team. I wasn’t really looking for the responsibility of managing anything, just hoping to play once in a while, but I am happy that I am able to help these women enjoy a little something of their own. These beautiful women are all mothers. Most of them do not have jobs, but work in the farm and raise their children, have no money of their own to spend on themselves, and even if they did they would probably spend the money on their kids. I bought them a few balls (just whatever ones I could find in Monapo) and they were so happy and excited to start practicing. I went out to the field with them the first day of practice and absolutely loved their enthusiasm, even though everyone else just laughed. They wore long pants, or tights, or even like me - tights with shorts over them! What a hoot!

The Soccer Field

The Women in Training

o   Accessories: #1 accessory you’ll see a women with, is a baby on her back. Tied up securely as can be with a capulana along for the ride whatever that may be. Actually this is not just with women, but with women and girls of any age. If you can walk, you can carry a baby on your back. I’ve seen kids of the age of 6 or 7 carrying little babies on their backs. To me it’s unthinkable to allow a child of that age to carry another child of an even smaller age, but here it’s completely normal. My favorite accessory that distinguishes a women aside from her capulana is a “lenso” or a bandana sided piece of fabric that serves as a head wrap. Much like a capulana, there are several ways of tying a lenso.

Mozambican Dialects:

The dialects spoken throughout Mozambique are known as the “BANTU” languages. There is a drastic difference among the dialects spoken in the south, central, and north of the country. In the south, it’s primarily Changana or Ronga, in the central it’s Cena, and in the North it is Makua, but there are several others far and wide in between depending on the region, province, and even small town or community. I absolutely love the sound of Changana, and think it’s much easier to learn than many of the other dialects. Makua is the language spoken in the northern provinces and the version spoken in Carapira is different from that in Nampula City, in Ilha, in Nacala, in Pemba, etc. The song is sung almost entirely in Makua so you have a taste of what it sounds like, but there is much more of a Northern/ Islamic language influence from Kiswahili etc. It’s so difficult for me to learn and understand. It’s a pity that I have no interest in Makua and would much rather learn Changana even though no one speaks it up North.

“Kina Khuma,” the title of the song, means “I have to go.”

Fun fact: There is now a degree option at the university level on the origin, history, preservation, and study of all the Mozambican Bantu languages.  I think it’s a wonderful way of preserving Moz culture and would be super interesting studying the origins and history of how they came about.

Mozambican Music:

I love Moz music and dance! Moz music can be traditional, in the Bantu languages, or in Portuguese. The genres vary from hip-hop, rap, passada (also a romatic slow dance between a man and woman), marrabenta (the dance of Mozambique which is literally two steps, but took me so long to learn), etc. There are many local artists and it’s very easy to produce your own music. My favorite artists are Lizha James, who is Mozambican, and Anselmo Ralph, who is Angolan.

Mozambican Dance:

I also love Mozambican dance. Everyone who can move any part of their body knows how to dance here. It just comes so naturally, and is a huge part of the culture. There are very traditional dances which have been passed on from generations, and very current dances that everyone and their moms know how to dance in all of the regions of Mozambique. Marrabenta is probably the most famous of dances known for being Mozambican. Then there are current songs which each have their own dance like the Bondorro by DJ FIRE. And then there are some dance moves which you can do to nearly any type of Moz music. The one shown in the video is a move where the boys pump their arms up and down and move their knees and legs like a chicken flapping its wings.

So getting to the part about me dancing in the video… My host family had spent hours teaching me Moz dance moves, so naturally when the boys asked if I knew any Moz dances I said sure I can try and show you what I know. Big mistake! I can try, but there is absolutely no way I could have even imitated anything close to the way Mozambicans dance.

When the boys came back with their final video, I had no idea they included the clip of me dancing with them. Ugh! Then one of my students, Samuel, found out that I had helped make a video for some of the kids in the neighborhood and is a good dancer and song writer himself so he asked to see the video. All of a sudden there were so many of my students crowded around the computer seen. I’ve never seen my students laugh so hard. They were literally rolling on the floor about to cry. They asked to play the video in front of all the students in the salon (the auditorium), just so they could get a good laugh out of everyone. Then after all the commotion died down, Samuel says to me, “Teacher, you don’t know how to dance.” With a solemn, admitting yet longing sigh, “Yes, Samuel, I know.” As much as I want to, I’ll never be able to dance like a Mozambican. I’ve sadly accepted this fate.

“Mais de” Carapira:

In my last blog post I posted a few photos of things in Carapira including the church, the health center, and TB clinic. Those and the school are pretty much all there is in Carapira aside from the “bairros” or neighborhoods, which are just random houses and huts which extend way out for an hour or two by foot into the “matu” AKA the bush. But the video puts our little town of Carapira to life. At the end of the video Marinho is standing on the main path from the main road into Carapira. An entirely sand path with tall grass and grand mango trees on either side, and you can just make out the church in the distance. Beautiful. Especially at sunset when there is a cool breeze to respite the heat of the day and the sky turns an unusual orange glow and casts a dark yet brilliant shadowy light over the whole town.

The part with me and the boys was filmed in Jill’s backyard. Bamboo fences, cleanly broomed sand yards, straw roofs or tin roofs, mud-brick houses. All of the teachers who live in our bairro live next to one another in the same row of houses, much like the house you see in the background. This is our hood.

The part where it starts zooming in on Morinho towards the end of the video is right in front and to the left of the church coming in from the main road. The path he is standing in front of goes out back behind the school and there you can see the little damn where they found the crocodile, and it keeps going beyond that for miles. This is the trail I run, and it’s absolutely idyllic and peaceful. Such splendor and fullness I never knew. Beautiful farmland green beyond the eye can see. Corn stalks, peanut plants, beans, grass, small streams, the biggest trees you ever saw that I wish I knew the name of, small isolated mud houses, little naked children playing in the sand in front of the verandas, the random stranger on the path who looks absolutely bewildered to see me running, me looking absolutely bewildered when I run into butt naked people taking baths in the streams...etc. The farthest I’ve been is about a 20 minute run out on the path and 20 min to run back, but it’s absolutely breathtaking.

O Final!

I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this blog and have gotten a sense of a bit of Mozambican culture. It’s exhausting, but good. Difficult, but worth it. It’s an experience and a time which I will never forget. What I have learned from these people, this time and experience here, I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

But most importantly, I am extremely thankful that I have been connected with this country, this culture, and these people. That God has allowed me to get to know this place and be a part of this community. It is changing me radically and the way I think and live my life every single day that I am here. I have complete faith that this is exactly where God wants me. Of any other place or time in the world, right now I am meant to be in Carapira, Mozambique! I place my trust in Him that He will bring me through it for His glory.

Count down 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 to…. South Africa!

IN LESS THAN 3 DAYS I WILL BE IN SOUTH AFRICA FOR EASTER!!! Spending quality time, recuperating, and rejuvenating during my spring break (autumn break here) with Nadia and her family. I am SO EXTREMELY GRATEFUL for my MOM, SISTER VIDIYA, NADIA, AND HER FAMILY for making this trip possible. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am in tears because of all that you have done to help me feel loved and cared for so far from home. Thank you for your concern, time, and sacrifice. There are no words to express how much I appreciate this kind blessing of yours.

Next Blog In the Works and Almost Complete. To Follow Shortly!!!

A Leg Up on St. Patty’s Day!

It’s St. Patty’s Day and I should be laying on the beach with my fellow Peace Corps friends in acclaimedly the most historically beautiful place in the country – Ilha de Mozambique. Instead, I’m laying with my right leg propped up on a pillow in my house in the unfortunately yet unforgettably beautiful town of Carapira writing this account of recent and ancient history.

As the saying goes “history repeats itself,” it describes the story of my life and Mozambique’s vast yet devastating history, all of which I will aim to detail in this blog. JUST KIDDING! But brace yourselves for an enlightening account, or just another sad story for the books… Either way, it’s about to get real.

The reason I’m lamely laying on my couch on what used to be one of my favorite holidays is that I can’t get up. Literally. I can’t walk. My right foot no longer looks like a foot, but more like a blown up rubber glove. Sadly, for history repeating itself, this isn’t the first time. It’s the third time my foot’s been infected since I got to my new site, and for the past two months I’ve been on two different antibiotics which appeared to dissipate the problem but not entirely cure it. So, now I’m sitting here doped up on “fraco” ibuprofen waiting for the lab results to come in so I can start the correct course of antibiotics and get my foot looking like a foot again.

But to get back to the whole point of this blog, one of the things that I’ve found heart with while being here is Mozambican history. Recently, it’s been a recurring theme with the happenings at school and in general I find that it’s greatly influenced the perspective of Mozambicans and the way things go here. Let me attempt to explain:

It all started at school when …I assigned a PowerPoint project to the 2^nd and 3^rd years about their vision for Mozambique 20 years into the future. I want them to believe that it is possible with one person, a vision, and gumption to radically change something about the world. I gave them an example of visionaries by talking about Martin Luther King Jr. and how he radically changed the course of our country through his words and actions. We read some of his quotes from his “I have a dream” speech and I talked about how his dream back in the 1960s-70s during the Civil Rights Movement is now a reality in our country. I couldn’t be more proud to live in a country in which we have an African American president, where only 50 years ago blacks and whites were not allowed to attend the same school.

Then we started talking about the problems which still exist in Mozambique, and surprisingly they said more than what I expected to hear, and not all in a good way. I learned a lot about corruption in general (which I will speak about in just a bit), “individualismo” – or the Mozambican version of saying ‘every man for himself’, “estrangeiros” taking the country’s precious resources and paying Mozambicans hardly anything for it, domestic violence, poverty, disemployment, human trafficking of adults and children for body parts on the black market, and in general a lack of good health and education.

I can’t not go into it a bit more, so firstly about…

Health in Mozambique: To say that health practices in Mozambique are faulty is an understatement. On a daily basis I see someone defecating in public on the walk to the school. I cringe when I see my neighbor’s daughters peeing and pooping in the sand in the yard, and then walk around barefoot. Latrines and general hygiene are non existent in this tiny little community. It’s probably how my foot got infected in the first place, but I can’t force myself to think any further on how gross that is. I’ve taken clean potable water for granted all my life, and now boiling or bleaching is the only solution and frankly it doesn’t cut it. Poor babies and children are sick with diarrhea all the time. Why? Cholera due to unclean water and poor hygiene practices. Then there are the health clinics, which are always overcrowded with the sick and yet are completely understaffed. The lack of doctors, nurses, technicians, clean working space, and medical supplies is shocking. People walk for miles to come to the tiny little health clinic in Carapira. If they don’t happen to see the nurse or technician and get treatment that day, they spend the night outside on “esterras” hoping to be seen the next day. Across the street from the health clinic is the TB/HIV ward, where people literally come to die. My heart pains everyday when I walk to school and see deathly skinny people with masks covering their faces sleeping under the shade of a tree outside the ward left to their pains and moaning. There are several underdeveloped, undernuritioned babies born every hour at the clinic. A ghastly statistic for a population incapable of supporting themselves yet alone the children they choose to bring into the world. AIDS and HIV, as much as is advertised, is still much of a myth here, as you will come to hear shortly. 

The Carapira Health Clinic: Normally it’s packed in and out with countless people, but on a Sunday afternoon I was able to capture it looking rather surprisingly empty. 

The TB/HIV Ward: I pass by this place everyday, but never had the guts to actually go up to it. Today I did, and the people asked me to take a picture of them, which I was more than obliged. Normally there are lifeless looking people lying on the ground on the mats or “esterras” with masks covering their mouths and noses but today mostly just visitors bringing in food for the patients. 

Education in Mozambique: According to UNICEF, the adult literacy rate in Mozambique as of 2010 was 55%. In 1975 at the time of Mozambican independence the illiteracy rate was over 90%. The progress made in nearly 40 years depends on whether you view the glass half full or half empty – I’ll let you decide. Based solely on the population, there are hardly enough schools to provide for what is called an education here. The average class size is anywhere from 50-100 students or more starting from primary school with nothing but a blackboard as the teaching material. The kids in the primary school in Carapira are required to wear uniforms, and when families don’t even have the money to feed their children, it’s a ridiculous rule…maybe it’s their way of limiting the number of students. There is no “escolina” or pre-school, and the concept of early childhood education and proper nutrition starting at home is unheard of. No wonder it’s so difficult for kids at the age of 6 to start making those synaptic connections for learning which should have started at birth. But who can you blame? It’s a miserable cycle.

Corruption: Now we get to the good part. When you hear stories of Africa, there is rampant talk of corruption, but to hear a country’s own people talk about it is heart wrenching. And it’s all over, everywhere, all the time- ubiquitous and omnipresent. Just get one thing straight - I’m not talking about specific people, but the problem in general.

1.     In the government: If you’ve got a job in the government, great! But it’s one more reason to do everything you can to protect your job, do favors for the people who will do you favors, and coming back to the definition of ‘job’, just not doing it. My friend Elsa who has applied for a secretary position in Nampula has been waiting 4-5 months. No, not just to hear back, but to have the entrance exam corrected. Apparently the person in charge hasn’t even touched it. Sure there are several hundreds of people who applied for the position, who are desperately in need just waiting and doing nothing, and yet the person who has the job, isn’t doing it! And of course, it’s not like the entrance exam or qualifications even matter, all that matters is how much you are willing to pay. For someone without a job, looking to earn money, to come up with money to pay the person in charge for the job sounds a little backwards doesn’t it? But my students were insistent that this is a common practice in their line of work in the industrial jobs. In fact some of the boys who graduated last year and made perfectly good scores to get into the Institute were denied…probably because they didn’t pay up like some other not so qualified students did. Some of my students were outraged and demanded change and others accepted it as their sad fate that hard work and honesty do no justice in this country. I pray that they never succumb to the system in which they live.

2.     In the health sector: Getting treatments in the hospitals is much the same. Whoever is willing to slip a bill into the technicians pocket can skip the lines and be seen directly and given more attention and better treatment. This may be “fofoca” but I’ve heard that there are cases of people paying technicians to alter the findings on HIV/AIDS reports. For personal reasons? Business reasons? I can’t imagine. What has the world come to?

3. In education: Lastly, and most tragically for me, is the corruption in education. The best jobs in Mozambique are nurses and teachers, and often times people don’t become these things because they actually like these jobs and want to sincerely care for and teach people, but because of the money that comes with it. But as the government goes, being a nurse or teacher still does not pay enough, and so people are left to resort to other more vile, under-the-table means of procuring money. For a teacher this means taking bribery for better grades, sex for better grades, labor for better grades, and stealing the school’s money for personal items. And the general lack of interest in the job allows way for sexual harassment, forced labor, lack of exam monitoring, condoning cheating, and deliberately increasing student’s marks to keep up the school’s reputation with the ministry of education (as occurred in Atlanta, it definitely occurs here too, but not with such a scandalous appeal. It’s just everyday life). Phrases like “paga me refresco” which translate to “buy me a drink and I will give you a good grade” are common in schools all over Mozambique. Kids who never set foot in the classroom and never take exams, miraculously pass with splendid grades. How? My good, hardworking students at the school where I teach grow extremely frustrated talking about it. Why? Because they genuinely try, are curious to learn, work really hard, and it doesn’t even pay off. But what’s worse, is seeing someone who clearly has no qualifications and did nothing to honestly earn it, land the job my student rightfully should have. What’s fair in life? And in the words of Kurt Vonnegut, so it goes.

So back to what I was discussing with my students about problems in Mozambique: One of my classes of third years, behaved and responded in a manner unlike all my other classes when I asked them about problems in Mozambique. Quite frankly the aftermath made me quite disheartened and it was definitely one of the most hopeless I’ve felt since I’ve been in Mozambique. My too cool, rebellious group of 3^rd years said that all of the problems in Mozambique exist because of America and Europe. Whether because of western influence or because it was actually our intent to bring upon harm to the people here, they said that every problem that exists in Mozambique and in Africa in general is due to the western world. Then they asked me whether I believed if HIV came from Africa, and when I told them yes, that’s what the scientists have traced it to, they told me I was wrong. “HIV was invented and made in the laboratory in the States deliberately to kill Africans.” The conversation from here out – exploded into a fury of everyone angrily shouting their opinions at me. Saying that “white people only come to Africa to witness the poor.” “No one cares about whether Africa will improve.” “It’s the trash of the world.” “Mozambique has no future.” “It has no hope.”

Needless to say I was devastated. I came here all this way, to hear from the country’s young and brightest in one of the nation’s best schools, students who have an actual chance of changing their country’s future, that they don’t’ believe Mozambique has a chance. To leave my family, my friends, my beautiful country, everything I’ve ever known and loved, just to share the gift I’ve been given at a wonderful education with people who haven’t been so fortunate felt like a totally worthless lie. What is the point? Or like the Mozambicans put it, “Não vale pena!” But after thinking about Mozambique’s history and given the fact that it is still such a young nation, just recovering from an unforgotten civil war, I began picking up the pieces again. After everything these people have been through, I have trouble thinking that if I were Mozambican that I wouldn’t think exactly the same way my students do. And for this suggestion to make any sense, we need to go back a few centuries.

It all started in Mozambique when ...in 1498 when Vasco de Gama landed on the Ilha de Mozambique while trying to get to India. From then on out, despite resistance in the north by the Makua people, Portuguese occupation was what you’d call history with Mozambique becoming an official colony in 1752. Through the 1760-1840s, Mozambican slaves were shipped out of in-country ports including Ilha, and in the 30 years up to the ban of slave trade in 1836 more than 100,000 slaves were sold to Brazil alone. During Portuguese occupation, the Portuguese acquired the country’s rich natural resources of mineral deposits, and abused the people by forcing into labor either producing crops or sending them to work in the mines in South Africa or cocoa plantations in Sao Tome.

In 1899, the labor law was passed which divided the indigenous from the nonindegenous people. Indigenous people were forced to work and pay taxes and the rational for the forced labor (chibalo) is outlined in the first Article of the documentation:

          “All native inhabitants of the Portuguese overseas are subject to the moral and legal obligations to seek to acquire through work those things which they lack to subsist and improve their own conditions. They have full liberty to choose the means through which they comply with this obligation, but if they do not comply in some way, the public authorities may force them to comply.”

If there is one thing I can’t stand its injustice. If I were a Mozambican reading this about my country’s history, I would be absolutely furious with rage by now. The telling part in all this is the part about “improving their own conditions.” As far as I can tell, none of what the Portuguese did through this labor law helped the conditions of the people in this country, if not making them worse.

In fact they did make them worse. In the 1930s and 40s the Portuguese forced rice and cotton production. Because the men were forced to do chibalo, the agriculture force was nearly all women. Due to the lofty quotas in rice and cotton production, women were compelled to reduce personal grain cultivation and instead collect “mandioca”, which required much less attention and care but is much less nutritious. And to this day, these poor people are left collecting the innutritious and sometimes poisonously, deadly cassava crop to feed their families. 

The “Caminho”: The walk to my house, cutting through little trails through people’s yards. You can see the corn stalks already starting to dry up. What once was green is now dead or trying. There’s been talk all abroad that crops are not going to do well this season because of the rains, which were so rampant at first now have absolutely stopped. I guess it’s just going to be stale mandioca this year. Devestating news for people in the bairro whose only means of feeding the family are through the crop raised in the farms.

As if forced labor wasn’t enough, in 1941 the Missionary Act was passed which left the Catholic Church in charge of educating the locals. This resulted in the brutal deviation of the education received by the Portuguese occupants and the Mozambican people. African education was divided into 3 stages. The first stage was aimed to bring African children to the same level as Portuguese children in primary school, which they did an absolutely fantastic job of it, by teaching exclusively in Portuguese. So obviously for indigenous people of whom Portuguese is not the native language and of which was rarely spoken in the home (even now), it was nearly impossible to pass the test to go on to middle school. If you were lucky and smart enough to have passed an all Portuguese elementary school, you could go on to the one year of middle school which prepared you for high school or technical training. However, the catch was that hardly any missionary schools offered this one year for the Moz students who passed elementary school, which effectively prevented them from proceeding onto high school. If you were the 1 in a million student who made it through elementary and middle school, the maximum age for entrance to high school was 14, which was just outright cruel. Let’s face these facts of the education system implemented by the Catholic Church. If their goal was to prevent the indigenous people from getting an effective education, then they surely succeeded. In 1960, nearly 98% of the population was still illiterate, despite missionary education efforts. 

The Catholic Church of Carapira: Quite picturesque isn’t it? The inside is even more grand and intricate. It could be a postcard, and yet, to me it’s stark beauty and grandeur in a place where the majority of houses are made of mud and dried grass, where bathrooms are just bamboo fences, where there are no paved roads just sand and trails, where the people walk barefoot with dirt stained clothes, it is much more of a monstrosity than a sanctuary. It even goes to the point of being disgustingly gaudy at night where the cross over the door lights up a brilliant fluorescent white which is a rather bit much when often times the neighborhood is without power. I’m not denying the good that the individuals of the church have done here for the people in Carapira and for the students at the school. In fact, I think they are incredible people and are incredibly selfless for dedicating their lives to service. I just question the purpose and effect of such extravagance in a place with such little.

On June 25^th, 1975 Mozambique gained its independence from Portugal after over 400 years of colonialism. For 400 years of occupation by a civilized, well-educated people, you think the country would have had a decent infrastructure to move on without Portuguese control. Yet, the remaining Portuguese after independence fled the country, leaving no infrastructure of educated Mozambicans as capable doctors, teachers, etc. I won’t go too much into the Moz civil war, but that shortly after independence in 1976, RENAMO (Resistência Nacional de Moçambique) was founded by the Rhodesian Central Intelligence Organization and support for the organization was backed by South Africa in order to lift the ANC ban on SA investment in the country. In 1982 RENAMO attacked the Maputo-Zimbabwe railway line starting the “civil” war which destroyed any remaining infrastructure which was left by the Portuguese, and left the country in shambles and ruins. The war ended in 1990 but Mozambique was considered as one of the poorest countries in the world.

So for my students who were born shortly after the calamities that occurred before the 90s, while they didn’t witness the horrid catastrophies of colonialism and civil war, they live the consequences of it day to day, hear the stories of their grandparents who might have been alive during Portuguese occupation, and the stories of their parents who lived through the war which is still so freshly imprinted on the hearts of the people here.

And as for all the progress the country has made since the war, it’s impressive, but not all of it’s wonderful. Mozambique has one of the fastest growing economies in the world, but on what account? And to what cost? Nacala Porto (about an hour away from Carapira) is reportedly one of the fastest growing cities in the world. They are currently building an international airport which could conveniently get me a flight directly to D.C. by the end of the year (hears to hoping). And this part is hearsay, but my students who are from Nacala say that the land that is currently under construction to build the airport was bought out for nearly nothing. This precious land which used to be peoples’ farms, their only source of income, now burned to the ground for a few lousy meticais per acre. Some of you may have also heard about the rich Petroleum stores found recently offshore in Moz by an Italian company, which could be huge for Moz, a country with such an affluence of unexploited natural resources. Talks were made about the company selling shares, but the only thought that went through my mind was what part of this will benefit Mozambicans?

Based on all this history, old and new, it’s no wonder my students think so lowly of “estrangeiros” who came and come to this county to use its people, use its land and natural resources for their own benefit, leaving it’s people to rot and die or worse force them to kill each other. While in the past claiming it was for God and country, now it’s to benefit the Moz economy and bring jobs to its people. Really? Some how after 100s of years of people screwing this country over, it’s hard to believe it’s possible. I can’t blame my students for thinking the way they do, and frankly, I completely understand it. Why is it me preaching change? A stranger? Whom for all they know is just like all the foreigners who’ve arrived in the country in the past and have done the Mozambicans wrong. What good has change been according to the country’s history?

Oh, boys! If only you knew how much I care that your lives would be blessed; that you would get wonderful jobs without falling victim to the system of corruption; that you would be able to provide well for you families and children; that they wouldn’t ever see a day of hunger or want or sickness that befalls the current population now; that HIV/AIDS is no longer a reality for your children, but just a memory; that you would see out the chance to live out your dreams without getting caught in the trap of sadness, pain, sickness, corruption, and violent history that still echoes throughout this country. How much I long that you would break free from the generational sin, myths and lies, ill-will towards the outside world, and misunderstood contempt for strangers and each other based on culture and tradition that still permeates this nation’s youth. Lift up your eyes, boys. Seek the truth. Don’t live in denial just because it suits your anger at the problems which face you, which weren’t your fault to begin with. Live out a life of HOPE.

And it is for HOPE, that I do this everyday. Despite the trials, the longing for home, the doubts, the pain, the one functional leg. HOPE the reason for my existence, my meaning, my purpose. HOPE not in anything of this world, but in the one who sent me. That not me, but He has the power to bring about change in this world. That it is in Him to instill faith in these precious students of mine that anything is possible. And all this not according to my will, but according to His. I pray I never abuse or use anyone all in the name of God or glory or country or whatever else it may be in order for my own personal gain.

Let us together break the bonds of history. It need not repeat itself any longer. Let this be a new day. Mozambique - a new creation.