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!