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.

Chomping Grounds

So, it’s been about a month since I’ve been at my new site in Carapira, and I am happy to say that I am finally at Peace being here. Actually, I feel like this is exactly where I need to be.

Certainly enough, it hasn’t been easy getting to this point in the journey; getting really sick within the first week, integrating into yet another completely different community, feeling home sick for my host family and the South (once a Southern girl, always a Southern girl!), battling giant spiders and bats and bugs and animals and crianças of all kinds (will get to that soon enough), not having energy for a whole week because of the storms, and even as I’m sitting here typing this, it is pouring rain inside my house. I know that there will be more difficult moments ahead, but that anxious, awful feeling I had waking up for the first few weeks in Carapira, wondering what on earth I was doing here, is now gone. Hallelujah!

I must be honest and say that most of the disappointment and peace less weeks were of my own doing. I had blinded myself to what God had for me when he brought me to Carapira. While I lived my first few weeks here with my eyes and heart constantly focused on my own selfish desires and being angry at God for not getting my way, I was missing out on what He wanted me to see. It took me a good while to realize that no matter how badly I wanted the comforts and pleasures of being back in Maputo, I wasn’t going to have my way. Being ever so humbled, my eyes finally started to see clear of my own obstructing attitude, and miraculously I felt lifted from the depths I was living in. I’m starting to feel like this is exactly where I belong (although I still have my moments), and that there is a greater purpose for me being here than I know right now.

Contemplations: These are the scriptures which have greatly spoken to me during this time in “the swamp.”

“Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” – Psalm 37:4

“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.” – James 4:10

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” – Hebrews 11:1

“Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”  So we say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper. I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” – Hebrews 13:5-6

“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus. ” – Hebrews 12:1-2

In the Works: Through the grace and will of God, I’m starting to see all the things I can offer to the people in my community and my school, and I’m absolutely pumped! So of course, let me tell you all about them:

Community Computer Course

In the past our school has offered basic computer classes to the other local professors teaching at the school, but never opened it up to people in the community looking to learn very valuable, marketable skills just by knowing how to turn on a computer and type something. Over the past couple of weeks I’ve run into several women and girls in the bairro who have finished secondary school, but are just sitting around at home with no work and nothing to do, just hoping for something that will come up. Well, it’s about to! Beginning in March, I am planning to offer a community computer course teaching basic computer skills: typing, making documents using Word and Excel. Hopefully this course will not only help pass the time effectively, but also give the women an advantage and marketable skills for finding a job. (And of course, the classs is open to both genders who have finished school, but so far I’ve heard mostly from the women in the community.)

Menos é Melhor Campaign

I mentioned in my last blog that there is a serious criança problem in Carapira. There are just SO MANY kids running around! No supervision, no manners, yelling and screaming, banging on doors and windows, breaking fences, at all hours of a God given 24 hour day…completely out of control! It’s so evident to me the cause of the poverty and suffering for these kids whose parents cannot afford to pay for uniforms, notebooks, and pens for school, let alone clothes to wear and food to eat. Kids who cannot read at the age of 13 or 14 let alone speak Portuguese. The families here are so huge that who has the time or patience to take care of them all? They are left to wander the bairro, reeking havoc. Yet as pissed off as they make me, I sympathize with their pain of wanting attention and love from parents who are too tired from trying to provide for a giant family and have too many children to give it to any single one. Every single house in the bairro, save me and Jill, has kids. Not just one…imagine 3 or 4 kids, not to mention the cousins, and not to mention the ones that are already older and off somewhere else. I’d say the average number of kids per household in Carapira is about 5-7. That’s a lot of darn kids!

For families whose parents do not have steady work, getting by to feed a family of this size is the primary concern. Who could care less about if my child gets enough food with the proper nutrients if I’m worried about just trying to get any kind of edible food in their mouths? Who could care less about adequate care and attention for growth and learning in the crucial 1^st 2 years of life when I have 10 mouths to feed? Who could care less about if my children will finish school, let alone go to school in the first place when I don’t even have the money to cloth them or buy them the things necessary to go to school?

If you can’t hear the frustration screaming from the words in the above paragraphs, let me just say it now. I get so frustrated with the pain and suffering of the children here, knowing that all along there was a way to prevent it. That there is always the active choice of not having so many children to provide the one or two or few that I have with more resources and more attention for a much brighter future and just better life growing up. I do not understand how someone who deals with the pain and suffering of not being able to provide for even just one child, chooses to bring more children into the world for a few moments of pleasure. Even without having to nix the pleasure, having demais children is preventable. If only the parents would stop giving condoms to their kids as play toys, and start using them for their real purpose, they wouldn’t have to give the condoms out as play toys in the first place!

Ok. Chega. What I’m really getting at here, is that I want to start a health campaign called “Menos é Melhor” which means “Less is Better.” It’s just an idea that’s been stirring in my head, but I would love to have a health fair day at the health clinic here in Carapira and talk about family planning, the so many benefits of having fewer kids, early childhood nutrition, the importance of early childhood education starting from infancy!, HIV/AIDS, condom use, etc…. It would be an involvement of many people in the community, the health center, the kids at the school, health NGO’s from Monapo, etc. If anyone has any thoughts or ideas, let me know.

REDES Grupo Das Meninas

I’m planning on starting a girls group. Girls from the neighborhood ages 12-15 in the 6^th and 7^th grade. I sent out little invites yesterday for our first meeting coming up on Wednesday. My number 1 goal is to get them reading. Have no idea how many are going to show up for the first meeting and how it’s all going to turn out.

We had a spontaneous pre-meeting on Saturday when several girls came over and we built a volleyball pit in my backyard, played limbo, did cartwheels, threw sand at the boys and chased them out of my yard, and of course danced! I’m thinking our first meeting is going to be a big dance party…which of course I’m always down for (maybe I will even teach them the wobble!). 

The girls holding up the REDES invites

Spontaneous game of volleyball with the girls in my backyard!

And of course, it then turned into a dance party : )

I hope for the wisdom, perseverance, and grace to bring all this into fruition according to the will of God.

The Happenings: And while we’re at it, let me tell you more about what’s been going on in my stomping grounds here in Carapira:

So if you’ve made it this far in the reading, it’s about to get seriously good for all the folks back home. Definitely, an “Only in Africa” story.

Let me begin by saying it’s been raining a crazy ton here in Carapira, and all of Moz for that matter. There hasn’t been a single day in the past 3 weeks it hasn’t rained. That being said, behind the school there is a little damn or recess of water in which people use to take baths, cart water, and where the crazy crianças play sometimes. Because of the rain it’s been flooded and even within the first week here in Carapira, there was local fofoca (gossip) going around about a crocodile which had somehow gotten from Monapo Rio into the recess and had bitten two kids ( a little kid and took off the leg of an older boy) and had killed a dog. I was there when father of the older boy had come up to the school and asked our Chefe Pedegogico to buy two dogs to tie up near the water to lure the crocodile out so they could kill it. Last week the gente rallied to stop the croc once and for all, and went out with arms (and dogs) to put an end to the tirany of the giant scaly monster lurking the waters of our beautiful Carapira!!!

On Friday, as I was leaving school, there was a mad rush of the students running out to the front of the school. I asked one of the kids what was going on, and he told me someone was selling mangoes. As rare and exciting as mangoes are in Carapira, there was no reason for the full stampede toward the school gates. As I made my way, I could see all my students and all the people in the village gathered in a huge circle in front of the school gates. “Teacher, teacher, have you seen the crocodile?” “WHAT?!” You’re joking right? It certainly has been the talk of the town for the past month, but never did I think I would actually see the semi-living monster in reality. As I pushed my way into the circle, an old woman was shouting in Macua and dancing around the face of the croc stomping on it occasionally. I couldn’t tell if it was completely dead or just semi-stoned. Its snout had been crushed, but the rest of it looked intact, and it had been dragged up to the school by ropes which had been tied around its tail. I happened to have my camera with me that day to take pics of the students working in the mechanics shop, and so of course my students were all about taking some cool pics with the croc. There was a heated discussion about how the croc would be killed, venomous skin and heart removed, how the meat would be divided (supposedly super saboroso), and turns out that later when they cut it open they found a dog inside! As I left the croc for home and passed the rest of the village running up to witness the scene, hearing the shouts and shrill cries of victory ignite the night skies, I smiled and thought to myself: Only in Africa!

 Students and community members gathered around the captured crocodile monster!

As if it weren't bad ass enough to be standing on a crocodile, my students had to throw up signs as well! Too cool for school boys!

 

It's been one really long rollercoaster!...and yes I've definitely thown up a few times

So it’s certainly been a crazy rollercoaster ride for the past two months, and I still haven’t quite bounced back to what you’d call an equilibrium state of being. This might explain why…

Quick summary of the occurrences for the past 2 months:

Got to site in Magude in the Maputo Province in early December only to find out my house wasn’t ready. They put me up in a room inside the school next to the Internato (dormitory), sharing a public bathroom with all the other teachers, and having to do pretty much everything like washing clothes and dishes in public. Thankfully it was holiday time and I got to spend nearly an extra month with my beloved host family and got to spend an awesome completely luxurious weekend with Nadia in Maputo (thanks again for the treat my friend!). My host sister, Meriam, and I had a great time going to the pool, dancing, watching movies, reading Harry Potter in Portuguese, joking, talking, and just spending time with one another. I was really sad to leave my host family, but didn’t know that it would be a permanent thing when I got back to site. When I returned to Magude in early January, no work had been done on my house. They still needed to put nets on the windows, paint the inside, build a bathroom, put bars on the windows and doors, and build a fence because my house was situated on the main road. The directora of my school had promised that the minimum would be done by the 28^th, but considering that it was already the 16^th and nothing had even commenced, that was highly unlikely. Peace Corps came to look at my house and my situation and said that there was a lot of work to be done, not to mention that my school wanted PC to pay for some of it, and that it would probably be another month before it got done. PC had another available site with a house already ready in Carapira, Nampula. I didn’t really have time to think about all the details, but made the decision that day to move to Nampula. We packed up all my stuff, didn’t really get to say any goodbyes to the friends I had made, and found myself in the tiny little town of Carapira, Nampula within the week.

Here is the hard part. I don’t know if I made the right choice to move.

Mostly because I loved being so close to my host family (only 3 hrs away). I grew to love them even more over the holidays and truly felt like they were my family. I would do anything for them. People started saying that my little sister Meriam and I were twins because we knew what the other was thinking without having to say anything. That is how close we had become. I had already made plans to go to my brother and his girlfriend’s presentation ceremony (kind of like an engagement party) and my little sister was going to come and visit me for a weekend or a week during the holidays. And now none of that is a possibility because I moved so far away. I cry every time I think about not being able to see them soon, and not knowing when or if I will get to see them again. My heart is broken. They are and always will be my one and only Mozambican family.

Also, in the short time that I was in Magude, I got to know some of the nicest, most hospitable people at the school and in the community there. I absolutely ADORED my fellow teachers who were so inviting, friendly, nice, funny, fun, and made me feel so welcomed and wanted. They invited me to get to know them and their families and treated me with such kindness and respect. The people in the community that I had met were also incredibly nice and were so genuinely excited at me being at the school to teach and just being in the community to help encourage young girls to study and finish school. Thank you to all my colleagues and people who befriended me in Magude, who invited me into your homes to get to know you and your families, and for treating me so well while I was there!

If I could take it all back to be near my host family and to get to work with the teachers and the people I had met in Magude even without having a house, I definitely would. Hindsight is the death of me right now.

Contemplations:

I don’t know if this was God’s plan all along, or if He was trying to tell me to wait it out at my old site and I just wasn’t hearing Him. If I chose wrongly…well I’m certainly feeling it. If this was His plan, why on earth did I have to go through all of this! Only time will tell. I’m still trying to come to terms with the whole transition: that this is my new home for the next two years. Right now it is hard for me to forget what is behind and to strain toward what is ahead. I’m just making it one day at a time and try to remember this:

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” – James 1:2-4

I know that God is growing me through this whole process, even though it’s extremely difficult right now. His purpose is always accomplished whether I can see it or not. The fact that He has chosen to use me here in this country and in this place where there is so much need for hope is more than I can wrap my head around. I am so thankful for my life, my upbringing in the States, my family and friends, and for this opportunity to serve Him. Sometimes I forget this when things get really tough and aren’t going the way I had imagined or hoped they would.

I’ll leave it at this.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”  - Galatians 6:9

Carapira – My new site

My new site is situated in a tiny village about a 15 minute ride on the EN1 from the district capital of Monapo. There is only the Catholic Church (which is beautiful and you can see it from the road), the school where I teach, the neighborhood, and a tiny market which has nothing. If I want to buy anything (like food) I have to hitch a ride to Monapo on the weekends to do my shopping for the week.

The people here are very poor and for the most part generally uneducated. There are so many many many children EVERYWHERE! Babies with flies swarming their poor sweet bodies too weak to cry, tiny todlers with swollen bellies, dirty children with rotting torn cloths. Things which break my heart, are normal everyday life for these people. My house is located on the road to the primary school so I get a flock of kids who hound my front door and window, sometimes asking for money, sometimes asking for pens and notebooks, sometimes just staring at me, and sometimes just annoying me. When I try and talk to them they run away, or play annoying jokes, or just stare blankly because they still don’t know Portuguese. I finally felt like I had a break through yesterday with three girls who didn’t run away when I tried to talk to them. I told them I couldn’t give them money, but that I am a teacher and that if they wanted to learn I would be more than willing to teach them. They are in the 6^th grade, and still don’t know how to read. I was shocked. I told them to come back and I would help them learn to read. I hope they will take me up on the offer and are actually serious about doing it.

I teach at the Escola Industrial de Carapira. And let me tell you, it’s an engineer’s paradise! They have a full mechanics workshop all from building a car from scratch down to doing all the repair work. They have a full carpentry to do all the work from tree trunk to finished products of chairs, tables, shelves, and furniture. They have a metal workshop, an electronics repair lab, etc. It’s really great how much practical experience the students get, and I sure hope that it helps them secure jobs once they are done. The school is run by Italian Padres, and they have a few Portuguese and Brazilian missionaries who also work at the school. It’s very small. Only about 150 or so kids (only 4 of them being girls). The students are very bright…or so I’ve heard. They pay a fortune to attend the school. Class sizes are like that of American schools about 20-30 students, which is unheard of in Moz or in most of Africa in general.

I am going to be teaching computers or what we here call “Informatica.” Because there is no curriculum I can teach whatever I want! It’s still my first week and I have yet to gauge how much my students already know and how quickly they learn and comprehend. Hopefully I am not being too ambitious to try and teach them PowerPoint and Excel. I’m also toying with the idea of them writing a screenplay and doing a movie project…but that maybe pushing it.

Because my school is pretty much an engineering prep school, I have a request to make. I would LOVE to be able to teach my students how to design on CAD, or SolidWorks, or any other design software. I think it would greatly add to their learning and set them apart applying for jobs or for university or even attending school in the States. If anyone has any of these programs and would be willing to send any one of them to me including an adequate instruction manual or brief tutorial on a flashdrive or CD, I would be so forever greatful!!!

My new address is:

Sister Saranya Sathananthan

Rua Dar-Es-Salaam, nr 14

Caixa Postal 526

Bairro Central

Nampula, Mozambique

If you would like to mail me a care package or a letter or anything, here is a list of things I’ve come up with that I would love to receive:

Ø      Photos of you all back home (in physical form, I can’t download photos online…uses too much MB)

Ø      Updates of how things are back home (Everything from pop culture, sports, new technology, and of course the happenings in your lives!)

Ø      Funny stories – I can always use a good laugh

Ø      Encouragement, wisdom, advice

Ø      Tea

Ø      Cheese Sauce/ Pasta Sauce Mixes (in the little paper packets)

Ø      Candles (with smells of home)

Ø      Oatmeal

Ø      Health food stuff like protein mixes, nuts and seeds, etc

Ø      Easy light weight childrens books to help the kids learn to read here

Ø      Stickers, crayons, paint, construction paper, or any creative artsy thing that I can use to teach the kids in my neighborhood

Ø      Tampons (always the best gift)

Ø      Drink mixes

Ø      Soup mixes

Ø      Mrs. Dash/ Cormicks Spice Mixes

Ø      Flash drives with any current music, or movies, or shows.

If I can think of anything else, I will post it.

Love you all back home and missing you all like crazy!

Saranya

P.S. My site mate is Jill who is starting her second year here. She’s really nice, friendly, hospitable, and loves the kids here. She also has a great blog which she updates way more often than I do, so if you’d like to learn more about my site and my school, check out BuffaloJill.

My Mozambican Family

After nearly 3 months of a new country, new culture, new language, new way of life, and no internet to share the experience with everyone back home, this is the first thing I want you all to know:

In less than two months in a completely different continent, culture, and language, never could I have imagined that I would be so blessed to come to know, cherish, and whole heartedly love the people who opened their home to me. 

Our House! Located in Bairro Fronterra, an old Portuguese neighborhood on the Swaziland border

As you can probably see from the post before that I was completely wrong in my doubts and worries about my family. The day we met our host families, I couldn’t have been more surprised when I saw a cute old man who had just one arm holding up a sign with my name. I was overwhelmed with such shame for having thought such horrendous things without hope only the day before. My sweet dad welcomed me warmly and couldn’t have been more excited to get home and introduce me to the rest of the family; my two beautiful sisters and two handsome brothers. I didn’t know a lick of Portuguese and had no idea how I was going to get through the weekend not knowing how to communicate but everyone was incredibly kind, helpful, and patient. I have no idea how we got through the first few weeks of not understanding a single word of each others, to being able to connect so intimately and to truly feel like family, completely at peace and at home. Only God is capable of this majestic, beautiful, wondrous thing I cannot begin to explain in words. I do know this: that genuine love transcends continents, countries, culture, language, heritage, race, lineage, and worldly understanding. It comes from the Spirit of God that exists in each and everyone of His children.

I would like you to…. Meet my wonderful family!

Pai Ricardo

Pai is the jolliest man you’ll ever meet. He has the sweetest smile, loves chatting with anyone, and gets overly excited about everything. Pai loves working in the machamba (the farm in our yard), loves eating absolutely everything with vinegar, and loves playing checkers.

I was moved by his kindness and hospitality. Pai cooked me breakfast every morning! He always bought me whatever food that I liked, which also happen to be luxuries in Mozambique; peanut butter, jam, tea, coffee, malt, yogurt, and the Mozambican version of Twinkies. He picked lichees off the tree everyday just for me because I love them. I was getting fat while my friends were starving for food.

He only has his left arm and is also missing his index finger, but is completely capable of doing everything…cooking, working in the garden, playing cards, ironing, fixing things, and writing. I don’t know his life story and the hardships he must have faced losing an arm and raising a family alone. I just know that he is amazing - a real life superman.

Me, Meriam holding the certificate, and Pai on the very right at the despedida party

Sheila

Sheila is my sister of 18. She is an incredibly strong woman - both physically and of heart. She taught me how to wash my clothes the Mozambican way, how to grate coconut, grind and sift peanuts by hand, and light the carvao (charcoal stove). We had a great time laughing at me in the process and getting to know one another better. She loves listening to music and singing, especially to Beyonce’s music. She is unbelievably intelligent, absolutely loves learning, and is one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met. She is going to Maputo to go to university this spring and hopefully study to be a doctor. For a woman in Mozambique to finish secondary school, to leave home, go to university, and become a doctor is almost unheard of. I couldn’t be more proud to have a family that values education so much and couldn’t be more proud of her for pursuing her dreams.

Para bems Mana Sheila! I’m so proud, moved, and inspired by what an incredible woman you are and will be. Looking forward to hearing about all the wonderful things you will do!

Me and Sheila - photography by Clidio

 Lerato and Leoneta

Mon Lerato is my brother of 21 years old and is an English teacher in the primary school in the next biggest town. Thank the Lord he was home that first weekend to translate for me! I probably would have cried if he hadn’t been there. He is super smart, and has perfect command of the English language, more than any other Mozambican I’ve met yet. I’m for real. He is a great teacher and taught me how to dance the Marrabenta (a traditional dance known throughout Mozambique). It only has two steps, but took me 2 hours to learn. Now that is patience. He loves intellectual talk about history, politics, science, and is so curious to learn as much as possible about everything. I love his aspirations to learn many languages, to study medicine, to travel abroad, and I pray that God makes it possible for him to do all the things he desires. He has had a very positive influence on his younger siblings to motivate them to learn, go to school, and value education.

Not only is he a positive influence on his younger siblings, but he is a great role model for them as well in his relationship with his girlfriend Leoneta. It’s such a beautiful thing to see so far away from home where the culture is so different. The culture here for young men is much of casual dating and having more than one girlfriend or wife at a time (called casa dois). But Lerato and Leoneta are absolutely and perfectly made for one another, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. Right before I left, they had announced and started planning for their wedding in April! So excited for them. I hope I get an invitation to attend! ; )

Me and Leoneta - sadly I don't have a pic with Lerato : (

Clidio

Mon Clidio is my younger brother of 16 years old. He’s a genius and extremely talented at whatever he puts his mind into doing. He is extremely handy and practically wired every appliance in the house. Nothing would work if it weren’t for him. He loves joking around, goofing off with his friends, and has the best laugh in the world. He is an amazing runner, and loves to dance. Actually, all of my siblings love to dance and they are all so good at it! He likes drawing and it turns out he’s a pretty talented photographer as well. He’s already making his portfolio to be a civil engineer or architect one day. He is great at cooking, and helps out with the chores. Watch out meninas, he’s a keeper.

Clidio standing on the roof of an old Portuguese ballroom with a backdrop of Namaacha. Absolutely love this photo!

Meriam (Mabongi)

Meriam or Mabongi (her Swazi name) is my sister of 13 years old and has become my best friend and constant companion here. Because she’s the youngest, she knows nearly no English and in the first couple of days we could only smile at one another, but I knew instantly that we were kindred spirits, and of like minds. There is a kind of bond which needs no words, and this is the kind of connection we have. To be able to understand one another without saying anything, just by looking at one another, and sometimes just knowing what the other is feeling without any explanation. I can’t describe it; it’s just the way it is but I am so thankful to have this kind of relationship with her.

Meriam is not just another sibling. She has a mom who lives down the street, doesn’t know who her dad is or just doesn’t have one, and isn’t actually siblings with the others, but is part of the family regardless. She is extremely intuitive, bright, and has method to her step. She loves Nicki Manage and Lady Gaga, loves eating french fries, loves shoes and high heels, and is extremely stylish and chique. We love talking together about things serious and silly, love dancing, running together, doing exercises, eating raw mangos with salt, making up stories together and drawing pictures to go with them, walking around town together, playing with the kids, and just sitting and being together. You wouldn’t know she was 13 by the gravity of her temperament, but if she ever opens up to you, she’s extremely impressionable. I pray that she grows up to be a strong, successful, intelligent woman.

Meriam - her expression in the photo on the right pretty much sums up what she's all about. 

Me and Meriam on the roof of a building - photography by Clidio

Me and Meriam in the garden of  the Escola Agrario - photography by Clidio

Me and Meriam on top of some rocks on our adventures - photography by Clidio

There have been some pretty unforgettable moments, things I will never forget and moments I will always cherish. To some up a few:

• Praying together before eating dinner
• Sunday brunch together with the whole family
• One Saturday spent at Mon Rodrigo’s (oldest brother I didn’t know I had who has his own family in Maputo) house for his surprise birthday party. Cooking a ton of food together with all the women (never grilled so much meat in my life!), eating till we were stuffed (chicken, pork, french fries, salad, noodles, rice, pudding, cake, etc), and spending good qt with the whole extended family. Riding with my family back home in the back of a covered truck and singing the Mozambican National Anthem acapella. Seriously one of the best days of my life. 
• Adventures around Namaacha with my siblings - (another post to follow)
• One weekend night spent playing so many games with my siblings till my stomach hurt from laughing.
• One afternoon/night spent dancing with my siblings.
• Cake making competition: Me, meriam, and Pai against Sheila and Clidio. Both of the cakes were equally delicious!

Me, Meriam, and Clidio on one of our adventures

Me, Meriam, and Clidio in front of the pool at the Escola Agrario

Leaving my family for my permanent site was incredibly heartbreaking. I felt like I was just getting to know them better and really connect with them. It was a very tearful goodbye and very touching. Excited that I’m not so far away and can visit them often. Looking forward to seeing them again for Christmas…only a few days away!

This is my family. I love them with all my heart, mind, and soul.