Training (Sept 2007-Dec 2007)

Sumario

From September 2007-December 2007 i lived in Namaacha, which is a small town outside of the Maputo (Capital of Mozambique) set at a high elevation. The landscape was more soft green hills than abrupt rocky peaks. This is where my Peace Corps experience began. I lived with a host family on the perimeter of the town (I was the furthest volunteer out). Upon my arrival, I met my host father and we walked to our house. We trekked through steep muddy paths with my bags in tow, and rain was falling hard and fast on our faces. Our house was made of rocks and mud, and on the inside there was a cement outer coating in some rooms for aesthetic purpose. A zinc roof covered our heads and created illusion as if thousands of passaros were nose diving into our house every time it rained. The kitchen and bathroom were not attached to the central building of our home. They were also made of rocks and mud.
During the first part of training I studied portuguese during the day with my "turma" (4 other Biology teachers) and spent the rest of time with my host family. This is because inicially we had an 8 o'clock curfew, and, due to lack of ideal communication, I continued to follow this curfew weeks after it had been lifted. I also spent a lot of time in the casa de banho (a hole in the ground with a cinderblock serving as a guide) with diarrhea. I had a bucket with which I used to bathe. I did this in the other side of the casa de banho behind our house. About 50 other volunteers lived in Namaacha, but I was isolated in a remote part of town. Our days were meticulously planned out for us by Peace Corps training staff with classes, meetings, and curfews. I had no free time. Halfway through training all of the trainees went on site visit. We stayed with volunteers for a week to experience life as a volunteer. I was lucky enough to get to the beach during site visit.
Toward the latter part of training we began focusing on our various disciplines and a two week "model school" was the culmination of this focus. Peace Corps picked our sites for us, and we left for our sites in December.

Historias

• Chicken-In general, money was tight for my host family and we ate meat once a week. This happened on Sundays at dinner. We had goat stew once and fried duck a few times, but we usually had something with chicken since it was the cheaper option. We would get these animals from our yard, because my host family (like most Mozambicans) raised goats, ducks, and chickens for sustenance. My host mother was an expert at killing and cleaning chickens. She could get a chicken ready to cook in less than 10 minutes. It was unbelievable. I never really helped out in the kitchen, and after about a month at homestay I decided that I needed to earn my Sunday chicken. So, one Sunday, I told my host mother that I was going to kill the chicken and clean it myself, without help, in under 5 minutes. She laughed, but told me I could try. This proved much harder than she made it look. I was handed a dull knife and was told to cut its neck. I was hoping for an easier way and my host siblings (all under 11) thought my hesitation was hilarious. Partially due to this peer pressure, I grabbed its head and started sawing away. It was horrible. Blood was everywhere, and after it was done i stood back frozen in shock. As all expert chicken killers know, this was a mistake. The chicken was violently flopping about for a good 30 seconds after its head was off, and all of my clothes were covered with blood. This was too good to be true for my host siblings who were now rolling on the ground in uncontrolable laughter. I think the youngest might have peed himself out of sheer amusement (Although he often peed himself without any reason at all. He also breast fed. He was 4 years old. Im obvious still bitter about the public humiliation). After that experience, I have decided to avoid killing chickens if I can. You can forget sometimes that someone actually has to kill the chicken whose breast you buy at your local grocery store. This 'cultural' experience reminded me of this, and I will never walk through a Stop n Shop the same way again.
• Halloween-All of the trainees wanted to celebrate halloween. No one wanted to miss out on all the goodness this holiday brings just because we were in Mozambique and Mozambicans have no concept of Halloween no matter how many times you explain them in broken portuguese. Whats so good about Halloween? If you dont already know, shame on you, but there is candy involved and people dress up really weirdly. I decided that due to limited resources I would be a robot with two other volunteers. I had cardboard boxes and I had silver duck tape. That is all you need to be a robot. You do not need to go to the mall to buy some fancy suit. When we were finished making our robot costumes, the other robots and myself began walking to the volunteer house where we were having our bash. Sortly after we started, I noticed that we were getting some very strange looks. This really wasnt new to me, as being white in Mozambique is about as rare as being a Mozambican who doesnt pick their nose in public (nothing wrong with this, its just an interesting cultural difference). But I began thinking how extra strange it must have been for Mozambicans to see a white person dressed up as a robot. I bet that half the people in Namaacha have no concept of what a robot is. This made me think about the clash of worlds that was taking place. Me, a robot from a futuristic computer world had stumbled upon the underdeveloped world of dirt roads, mud houses, and rampant goad herds that was my neighborhood in Namaacha. It was crazy to think about, and I made my friends take some pictures. My favorite is the timid robot meeting the indifferent goat (see picture).

Pessoas

As I stated above I stayed with a host family during training. This was one of the most unique experiences of my life and I consider them my second family. I will always remember my time with them.

Mae- My host mother (Mae) was a huge breasted, very pregnant wall of a woman. She chops wood and kills chickens all while singing church hymns. She has a bellowing yet endearing laugh. She is loving but also can be greedy. She cooks, cleans, and washes all of her families clothes. This is her daily routine. She has a round baby face with the body of a woman twice her age. She recently had another son and named him Jaimito after me. I was so honored by this.

Pai- My Pai is a man with responsibilities. I like to get him animated about the need for factories in Mozambique, a topic he has talked about over 20 times with me. He loves sitting around the house and listening to the radio about news and sports. He can fix about everything and is a respected man in the community. He is a pastor and a secretary of the neighborhood and he works in construction, having built many of our neighbor's houses. He is short, well dressed, and wears tiny but perfectly shined shoes to church. Church is where you will find him most nights.

Avo Atalia- She is my host grandmother and had my host Pai when she was 14 years old. This woman can do it all. She is a master cook (any green vegetable with coconut and peanuts she cooks is amazing). On Saturdays, she sells shirts in the market. We had a hard time communicating because she could not speak portuguese well, but it really didnt matter much. She was great. She always wore a hat or wrap around her head (bald?). She opens bottles with her mouth, pilars with authority, plays cards with me, and once offered to split a caixa (case) of beer with me. She is a no nonsense woman, but she only shows her kind and loving side to me. She sometimes laughs at the young ones in our family and plays juvenile tricks on them. She knows how to survive in this world, and if i had to describe her in one word that word would be scrappy.

Dino- He is 11 years old. He loves to draw and listen to music. He always seems to be happy and has an adorable smile. He is not very athletic but always tries to play sports. He is always dancing, and I have learned some great moves from him. He is smart academically but is lacking in common sense (But hes just a kid, and I'm probably being hard on him).

Neto- He is 7 years old. He has middle child syndrome, and is always craving attention or getting jealous of his other brothers. He is so silly and says crazy things that don't make sense in any language. He is scrappy like his grandmother. He is a young engineer and has made a guitar, glasses, and a water gun out of scraps and garbage.

Jose- He is 4 years old. I love Jose so much! I remember once when I made him smile when he was sick by tickling him, and he made me smile when I was sick by pushing around a broken wheelbarrow. He loves playing my guitar and is the cutest child I have ever seen in my life. He has a spark and glow about him that might make him the most affable living creature alive. I miss him.

Pensamentos

I don't think I have ever felt more overwhelmed in my life as I felt in the first week of training. Everything was new. I felt like a wide eyed baby, dizzy from all the new stimuli. In essence this was what I was, and it was how Peace Corps and my host family treated me. I didn't know how to bathe myself or use the bathroom, the food was new, the climate was unpredictable and unforgiving, I was living with strangers, and my health was fragile and my body was not reacting well to the malaria medication I had started taking, and I could not speak portuguese save for a few crude phrases. The days dragged on and seemed like weeks. It was truly a struggle. But, as time went on everything became easier, and after my first lesson in model school (Introduction to Mendelian Genetics given to 13 11th and 12th year old students) I know that I could be a Peace Corps Volunteer (see picture of model school). It is remarkable how quickly humans can adapt to their surroundings.
I would like to point out that I thoroughly enjoyed my time with the other volunteers. Whether it was going out for some ice cold....cokes, playing basketball next to the secondary school, spending halloween and thanksgiving together, experiencing the 'joys' of mozambican transportation, rocking Mohawks, or just sitting around sharing stories it seemed like we were always having fun. We were a family.
I only felt home sick one time, but it was very strong and overwhelming. I was in the market and I asked a vender for something in portuguese. She couldn't understand me, and then she and a group of other market venders started laughing at me. I felt totally alone in a strange land. I was totally lost. I was able to get over it by talking with another volunteer, talking with my Mom on the phone, and writing in my journal. It lasted only about 2 days.