No News = Good News

I'm not sure which R. Kelly album it is, but someone outside my window is blasting it really loudly right now. That's pretty much how it always is. If it isn't music, its roosters crowing, or dogs fighting, or cats having sex....either way, its always loud outside. Doesn't help that I live on the main road by the market...so there are always people. Its almost like living in the city, so I can deal with the noise. Even at 5am (I was awoken today at 5am by rihanna/eminem).

Training is going well. I have been attempting to learn the language so I can "adjust" and "integrate" better. I think that's happening even without me being fluent in Portuguese. My sisters have managed to drag me to the discoteca every weekend for the past 3 weeks. Actually, I wanted to go...its fun! And I need some fun, because training gets stressful. My host mother's birthday was last week. We had a huge party. I bought us matching capulanas. There was a double chocolate cake that was to die for. TO DIE FOR!! A few of my fellow PCTs came, and we sang the Stevie Wonder version of Happy Birthday...everyone loved it. They all joined in (and were still singing it the next day).

We took a day trip to Matola last weekend. It was my second time there. Matola is like a suburb of Maputo. Appatently a lot of affluent people live there. We visited this shopping center, got lost in the wonder that is Shop Rite (like a Mozambican WalMart, but more amaz-ng), ate pizza at this little cafe surrounded by ex-pats, and took a chapa back to Namaacha.

I'm not sure if I should explain the wonder/horror/much needed life experience/test of patience/personal space invasion that is the "chapa ride" yet...I don't even know if I can put it into words...

Just know that the main form of public transport here is the chapa, and if you imagine packing 25 people, babies, chickens and goats into a 15 passenger van, you might get the point.

I'll go into more detail later. My empregada just brought out my dinner. Matapa, rice, and....eggs?

Whatev...I'm hungry

Phones and things!

I finally got my phone numbers! If you buy a calling card in the States, you can call me MUCH cheaper than I can call you...

So here it is: 258 82 065 3322

you can also use my other number: 258 84 713 6049, but I'm gonna pretty much just use that one for internet...

Oh yeah, in Mozambique, everyone gets two numbers.

Texting me should be pretty cheap. Oh yeah, and I have free incoming calls :)

And more updates....,

October 5, 2010

So…I’ve learned a lot since my first day at my homestay. First off, I only have 4 sisters: Yvonne, Ana Carla, Vanya, and Chiquita. Not sure of their ages, but I’m sure I placed them in order from oldest to youngest and they’re in the 18-30ish range…Chiquita pulled me into the kitchen on Sunday to show me how to make rice and to ask how old I was. At the time, I was unsure of what she said, but my Portuguese is a bit better now, so when I see her again, I’ll ask how old she is. Anyway, the other girls that were there, Luisa and Amelia are what are called “empregadas” or maids. So yeah, we have an empregada. My host sisters live in Maputo, and they come on weekends to visit with Ana Teresa, my host mom, so that’s why they all showed up randomly on Saturday. I’m slowly learning. Amelia is Yvonne’s empregada, so she brought her along. I spoke to my empregada for a little bit today, and she told me she’s 14. I’ll ask later about the circumstances, once my Portuguese gets better, but I’m pretty sure she lives here. I never see her leave…Anyway, empregadas are pretty common here, especially since Ana Teresa cant do everything, like going to get water, etc. She has Luisa do all of the cleaning, water fetching, random grocery runs, and chicken killing. I have yet to see a chicken killed…but I have seen my dinner walking around about 2 hours before we had some of the best grilled chicken you can think of..

On Sunday, Yvonne took me to church. We hopped in her car and drove down the road. It was kind of weird, since most other people were walking to church, and here we pull up in her car. It was the first Sunday, and of course, since it’s Catholic, that meant communion time. Everything was in Portuguese and I was a bit confused. Yvonne kept tapping me to let me know when to kneel and when to stand. She also handed me change to get up and put in the collection plate. At one point, everyone started getting up and walking, and she stood, but didn’t tap me. Since I was confused, I just followed her. Shortly after, I realized it was in the communion line! It was too late for me to turn around and sit down, so I took the communion wafer, and went back to my seat. I think I was supposed to say something as I took it, or make some sort of gesture, because the nun looked at me kinda weird. Anyway, I got back to my place, and kneeled and said a quick prayer (asking God to forgive me…because I was probably embarrassing Him). Since everything was in Portuguese and I hadn’t been to a Catholic church in ages, I wasn’t quite sure of when to take the communion…so I didn’t. I still have the communion wafer hidden in my Portuguese book…

I know. I’m a mess.

After church, I was forced to greet people outside. I was finally called fat. But here, it’s a compliment. People like fat. One volunteer was showing pictures to her family and they said “Oh, you were more fat in this picture. You looked good!!” So yeah, here fat=good. Being called fat = compliment. Anyway, a group of girls stopped me to say hello. They found out I spoke English and decided to practice. One girl asked “Oh, you’re with Mona Yvonne?” It was my second day in Namaacha. I had forgotten Yvonne’s name. I asked her what she was talking about. She made a motion with her hands “You know, Mona Yvonne! She’s very……fat!” I guess it was true. Yvonne’s hip/thigh/butt area is bigger than mine! She’s very, very….plump in that area. Anyway, I guess I made a face, because the girl looked at me and said, with concern and while making a slightly smaller motion with her hands, “Oh, but Mona Kyla is very fat too!!”

By the way, “Mona” is like a term of endearment, it means Big Sister. And yeah…the kids think I’m fat, and therefore pretty. Something like that.

Anyway, when we got back from church, my host mother and sisters were hanging out on the porch. We live directly next to the market, so it’s a very high traffic area. Since one of my goals as a Peace Corps trainee is to successfully integrate into my host family, I sat outside with them. They asked if I wanted a “refresco” (pop – or soda for the non-northerners). I declined, saying I was fine with my water. But they insisted. And being surrounded by women…they wouldn’t back off. So eventually, I ended up with an orange Fanta. My host mother and sisters were drinking “cerveja” (beer). They asked if I wanted some, I declined. About 20 minutes later, another one of my host sisters asked. I declined. About 20 minutes later, another sister. Eventually, my host mother asked if I drank beer in the US. I said no, not really. I might have one with friends. That’s all she needed to hear….next think I knew, there was a glass in my hand. It was really interesting, because so many families here are very traditional. Not my host family. Here we were, a bunch of women sitting in front of the apartment drinking beer, talking to people passing by…

All kinds of people stopped by. I was introduced to Tia Monica (Aunt Monica), some cousins, neighbors, etc. Most people who stopped thought I was Mozambican, from Maputo. Once they realized I didn’t speak Portuguese, my family told them I was from the States. Tia Maggie and Tio Maurice (Tia/Tio = Aunt/Uncle) stopped by. They talked for a bit. Once they found out I spoke English, they addressed me with what English they knew, but they were having a conversation about something with everybody else. I have no clue what they were talking about, but it seemed interesting. My host mom gave some money to some kid to get her three chickens. He came back, and set them down. They were just as confused as I was. Then Luisa came out with a bucket, and Tia Maggie put the chickens in a bucket. They just kinda sat there like they knew just as well as I did what was about to happen to them. Then all of a sudden, Tia Maggie turns to me and says “Vamos!”. Then my Yvonne says, in Portuguese of course, “Go with Maggie and Maurice”. So I did. We got into the car, with the chickens on the trunk, and drove down the street. Tia Maggie says, in English “this is how our family is”. I think she meant random…because out of the blue we just up and left.

On the way, Maggie told me she was an ophthalmologist in Breia. She said Maurice lived in Maputo, and they had to find time to visit each other when they were working. They asked me a few questions, and we pulled into a GORGEOUS house down the road, with beautiful landscaped land and a huge backyard. I realized we were at a good old fashioned Sunday BAR-B-QUE!!! And it was really nice!! I felt like I was at home, except everyone spoke Portuguese. They sat me in the livingroom in front of the TV while the women fussed over the food in the kitchen. There were 3 cakes, some appetizers, and they were setting up food outside, buffet style. The livingroom was REALLY nice. It was bi-level, with a really interesting marble tile, a fireplace, and really cool stone/slate walls. I was impressed at how lovely the house was…and how much this family reminded me of so many families in Detroit, TN, and Chicago. Anyway, Tia Maggie came and handed me a plate with salad, rice and beef. She pointed out what was on my plate (“salada, arroz, carne!”) and sat it in front of me. I ate it, and drank my Pepsi. I was satisfied. About 30 minutes later, my host mother shows up, sees that I’m drinking pop, and promptly pours me a beer. Then Ana Carla finds me and hands me a plate of these things everybody was snacking on. I don’t know the name, but imagine homemade crab Rangoon, but instead of the cream cheese/crab filling, there’s fish and onions. Sounds weird, but trust me…they were DELICIOUS! Then another Tia (I forgot her name, which is sad, because I really like her) SLAPPED me on the thigh, and told me to follow her…

The problem with Mozambique so far, is that a lot of times, you think you’re eating a meal, but you really aren’t. They serve a lot of “meals before meals” as I like to call them. So what I thought was a meal definitely was not. I got outside to find the buffet. There was grilled chicken (yep…probably the ones I saw walking around about 2 hours beforehand), grilled beef and sausage, salad, potatoe salad, xima (a traditional Mozambican dish made of cornmeal and whatnot. Its like cream of wheat when you don’t add enough water/milk, so its kinda dry and sticky. And it tastes like nothingness, but its really filling), cabbage/greens/carrots, and…I don’t remember what else, but there was a lot of food. And it was all good. I finished what I could manage to eat, and went outside to attempt to talk to people. My host mother found that my glass was empty and she filled it again. A few minutes later, she told me to go with Yvonne to pick up my host nephew. So I set the glass down and got into the car. Before she pulled out, my host mother walked up to the car and put the glass in my hand.

No, it isn’t illegal to have random glasses of beer in the car in Mozambique.

Long story short…I met a lot of people. We were house hopping, and apparently EVERYBODY in Namaacha was having a party on Sunday. I was offered way more food than I could even want. And once we returned to the original BBQ, they dragged (literally DRAGGED) me out of the car and made me dance…I’m surprised by how much electronic music I’m hearing in Mozambique. We were dancing to songs that I knew…I felt like I was back in Chicago at Sound-Bar. They also played some tribal-ish music (more like tribal house music)/. Anyway, everyone was impressed by my dancing skills. It was fun. Then they tried to drag me to a nightclub. I told them no (that would be against SO many Peace Corps rules, and it would have been against my better judgment), and eventually (after stopping at another aunt’s house) we went home. THEN my sister asked me “Kyla, you’re going to go to bed without dinner??” I THOUGHT WE JUST HAD DINNER!!! Jeez…Anyway, I told her yeah, I was tired, and I went to bed.

That was my Sunday. My Monday wasn’t that exciting. I had language classes all day. In the afternoon, we went around to each person in our language group’s houses and had to introduce our families in Portuguese. It went well. It was fun seeing how some of the other volunteers were living compared to where I live. Their families are all very nice. Today my host mother made me go to the bakery and buy bread. She sent the empregada with me to make sure I was ok. Thankfully the bread store (It’s a bakery, but all they sell is bread) is directly across the street, and the man who owns it has a Peace Corps Volunteer living with him too, so he knew me, and knew my Portuguese skills were…well…non-existent. Tomorrow my mother says I have to cook dinner, she’s gonna teach me how. She pretty much thinks I’m an idiot, I think. She taught me how to use a stove today, haha. I didn’t know how to say “I already know how to light a gas stove”, so I just went with it. Also, the food today was really good. Breakfast was an omelet with tomato and onion. Lanche (which is the meal between breakfast and lunch) was crackers, as usual, but I traded some of my peanut butter and crackers for these yummy coconut cookies. Lunch was more grilled beef, spaghetti noodles in olive oil and some kind of spices, not sure, but it was good, with a salad. And lanche #2 (between lunch and dinner) was bread and peanut butter (the bread here is really good, so that’s a treat) And dinner was grilled chicken and sausage (she was grilling on the back porch with a small charcoal oven thing.) a tomato and onion salad, and xima. (which was good this time, because it mixed with the dressing from the tomato and onion salad, so it had flavor). I couldn’t finish I though, because I had eaten too much today, so I told my mother my stomach was full,and she was ok with that. Thank goodness she’s not like some other host mothers. Ive heard horror stories already of mothers who feed their volunteers enormous amounts of food…

Anyway, I know this is long. Things are well here. I’ll update soon!

Updates!

October 2, 2010

Wow...today has been an interesting day...

We left our comfy, posh hotels in Maputo, packed onto busses, and drove about an hour away through the mountains to the village of Namaacha. On the way, we saw the most beautiful, large spacious homes on the coast in Maputo right next to the poorest slums you could ever think of. We saw people on the sides of the roads selling all types of things. We drove through tiny villages with nothing but a few houses, some made of stones, some made of grass and sticks. We saw women carrying live chickens by their feet to go home and cook. We saw women balancing all types of things on their heads...buckets of water, luggage, some with babies on their backs. We saw all types of goats and chickens and cows roaming about. And we saw the most beautiful terrain. Then we arrived in Namaacha...

Lets say that this whole day has been NOTHING like I expected. Namaacha is pretty much like all of those sites rolled into one. There are people who love in small houses built from cement or wood, and there are people who have more stable structures. I'll get to that in a bit. We pulled into a facility that was OBVIOUSLY brand new construction, since it was REALLY nice, even by American standards. It is apparently the new teacher training center. We went around to the gymnasium, and some of the local boys we playing basketball on the new court, so some of the volunteers joined them...that was entertaining....

We waited and waited and finally our host families all came out singing a song. It was really beautiful. I cried...that wasnt the only time I cried today...but I'll get to that later. So once the song was over, we all went to find our host families. I kept searching and searching but I couldnt find mine...eventually I found a woman with another volunteer who was also holding my name. I asked if we were together, and she said "Oh, you with my sister". My host mother wasnt even there!! So I felt a bit abandoned already..(then again, it seems like something my own mother would do, so I shouldnt feel that bad...) Anyway, all of the host families grabbed their American and trotted down the road, hand in hand. The woman I was with dropped off the other volunteer, Kaitlyn, and her house first. Her son and daughter ran out, greeted us, and we were on our way. We kept walking, while some of the locals stopped and asked what was going on. (One of them though I was her guard because im so tall...grr). We finally made it to an apartment building on the main road. There was a man getting his hair cut downstairs. We went past him, up the stairs, and there we were. My homestay house.

When we were looking at the map of where we would be staying, one of the current volunteers said "Oh yeah, I think that place might be really nice from what I remember". Like I said, NOTHING like I expected. When we were learning how to take bucket baths, I didnt think that my bucket bath would be INSIDE, in a BATHTUB, in a bathroom WAY bigger than any of the ones I've had before. No need for me to learn to use a latrine, because we have a toilet (yeah, you have to pour water down it to flush, but its better than going in the backyard) The apartment is huge! There are 3 bedrooms, a kitchen and a livingroom, (with leather furniture), and an area that I'm not sure what purpose it serves, but its like a room with a couch, table, and overflow from the kitchen...there is a dining area (with really nice chairs carved from wood and a table, and a balcony in the back that overlooks the terrace where people hang their clothes and stuff. We have electricity, but no running water. We have a TV, which is pretty much programmed to Brazilian soap operas all day. My bedroom is huge by my standards. They kept telling us our rooms would be small, but I have plenty of room. The floors are finished and glossy. Dont know what you call that. But yeah...the place is far from what I expected.

Some people do have to go outside to shower and use the latrine. Somehow I lucked out. By American standards, yeah, its not the GREATEST place...but it is really nice.

So I arrived at my house and my...aunt (who explained that she was married to my host mom's brother I think-it was all in Portuguese) left me with Ana Teresa. My host mom Ana Teresa was cooking and there was a girl wandering around who looked to be about 16. That was Luisa, my host sister. Ana explained (in Portuguese) that her other daughters were in Maputo for the day, and would be back later. After my first successful bucket bath (in my super-lush surroundings) we ate. I think she could tell that I was nervous, and she started talking about another volunteer she had two years ago named Molly. Then she pulled out her cell phone and called her. Molly said "she always calls when there's a new volunteer, I dont know why", and she assured me that I was in great hands, and I would be fine. She also mentioned that there were a bunch of sisters. After lunch (of rice with green beans and carrots, fried potatoes, and fish and a banana for desert), Ana Teresa helped me set up my mosquito net, and I took a nap.

When I woke up, Luisa was asleep on the couch. I grabbed my Portuguese books and sat on the other couch. She woke up, and said something to me in Portuguese. I smiled and nodded (thats pretty much all i've been doing). She walked out. Ana Teresa was nowhere to be found. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I waited. No one answered it. The knocking continued. No one answered. I got up to find someone, and it turns out...I was by myself! There was a female voice yelling in Portuguese and beating on the door. I couldnt find Ana Teresa or Luisa, and I was NOT about to open the door...I went to my room and sat there. Then I thought "wait...what if that IS Ana Teresa and Luisa?" I went to the door, kinda hesitant, and opened it. There stood five women (including Luisa) and 2 babies and a little boy. They said hi, pushed past me, and I saw the look on Luisa's face. She had locked herself out. Eventually I realized that all of these women were Ana Teresa's daughters! That's what Molly meant! I forgot all of their names, but there's Ana Carla, Velma, and the other two...no wonder this place is so big. The little boy (about 2 or 3) was so cute. I think his name is Ricky, and I think he kept asking me to pick him up. They told him to call me "Tia" which means "Aunt". The first thing he did was run up to me with a banana, held it up to me and said "BANANA". I dont know if he was trying to teach me Portuguese or what, but he eventually had me peel it for him. The sisters kept trying to talk to me in Portuguese....that didnt go so well. After my snack time (bread, peanut butter, tea, fruit) I got a bit overwhelmed with the kids, and one of them started braiding the other one's hair, then two boys came over and they were all talking, and everything was in Portuguese and I couldnt understand or communicate, so I grabbed my water and my books and I went to my room. Then I started crying again. I think it was just an overwhelming feeling, feeling stupid because I didnt understand anyone and couldn’t communicate. It was just too much, too fast. One of my sisters knocked on the door, and told me she was making dinner. I asked her to let me know when it was done, and I fell asleep again.

When she woke me up, I felt much better. Ana Teresa was back, the boys were gone, and only one of the children was still awake, the youngest baby, It was a little easier to communicate, since I know some Spanish, its become kinda easy to understand basic questions. By the end of dinner, I was calm, and my sisters were asking me questions. Ana Teresa started saying (in Portuguese) "Oh, she knows words though, she just needs to work on grammar. But she knows words! Molly didnt know ANYTHING when she got here, you'll be fine" They asked what religion I was. I didnt know how to say non-denominationa, so I said Baptist, which they said 'Oh, Baptist Evangelical"...I dunno....all I know is, they're Catholic, and I have to be in church at 8am tomorrow. So they sent me to bed. All in all, I know I'm not the only volunteer who might be having a difficult time adjusting. Thankfully Ana Teresa has done this before, so she knows what to expect.

Now it's time to say goodbye....and hello!

Right now I'm sitting at hotel Kaya Kwanga in Maputo, where we've been for the past 3 days. There is a wedding reception happening right across from me, blasting a mix of African and American music. It's a really beautiful wedding, very similar to something you'd see in the US. The men are all in suits and ties, the women in fancy dresses. The bride's dress is gorgeous, your typical white wedding gown. I would take pictures, but that would be rude.

I guess I'm surprised because no one is really in any "traditional African" clothing. Then again, I'm in the capital city, So I guess that's to be expected. Tomorrow we move in with our host families in Namaacha. Namaacha is a village of about 40,000 people that sits on the border with Swaziland, and is about an hour and a half away from Maputo.

We got a lesson today on taking bucket baths, filtering our water, and using a latrine. Should be interesting. Our host families are responsible for helping us get acclimated to the culture. They are to cook for us (and pack our snacks), help us with the language, etc. They also said the host families have been informed that we dont know any of the language and we dont know how to do anything, so we have been warned that they are going to baby us and pretty much treat us like idiots, and offer to help us do everything. We were warned that the host mothers might try to offer to help us take a bath. It's not considered rude to decline, thank goodness. They also taught us how to say "No thanks, I can do it myself" in Portuguese. They just want to help...so...can't be too mad....

Today was also another day of vaccinations....today I got typhoid and rabies. Yesterday was Hep A and something else, I forgot, plus a weekly malaria pill. We also had a session on diarrhea and when it's an emergency and when it's normal. Fun times...both my arms hurt from the vaccinations, and the lady giving me the vaccinations kept laughing at me because of the faces I was making.

I've been calling people (maybe even you!) through GChat for free, but after tonight, we likely wont have much internet access. I will get a new SIM card for my phone next Saturday, so I'll have email, and I can email everyone (so mom, dad CHECK YOUR EMAILS, thanks)

I'll try to update when I can. I have to be up early to get to Namaacha. After 10 weeks there, I will move to my site, somewhere in the country. I wont find out for at least another 5 weeks. Until then, I'll be studying Portuguese hardcore, learning about Health & HIV/AIDS in Mozambique, spending time with my host family, and trying NOT to gain weight...

By the way...apparently, the host families have a competition to see who can fatten up their volunteer the most. Not to mention the fact that it's tradition to eat 5 times a day...hopefully I'll be fine. One of the doctors said I''d likely lose weight in Mozambique. Most of the current volunteers say otherwise. With dinner like the one I had tonight (grilled chicken, mushroom & cheese tortellini, salad, etc) I'm pretty sure they're right....