Xima

We’re officially finished with week three of training. Things are good here; we’re starting to be more comfortable with our new routines. There is something new to learn every day, and every new thing I learn makes me love Mozambique more.

Yesterday, all of our host moms got together and taught us how to cook some traditional Mozambican dishes. I arrived sans capulana, but was quickly outfitted with all the appropriate cooking attire: lenço (scarf), capulana (traditional skirt), and apron. We pounded, ground, mixed, boiled, and oh yes, I killed my first chicken. Being here even a short time has grounded me in much the same way backpacking does. The women here are tough, and they understand the value of every resource. I aspire to become more like them.

The clip above is video of me making xima (a local dish very similar to grits). You start with corn and start smashing, add water, keep smashing, add water, keep smashing. An hour and half later, you have the beginnings of xima. Boil for another hour and it’s ready.

Dad has another clip with more pictures, but it contains video of me actually killing the chicken. If you’re not squeamish and are interested, drop him an e-mail.

We are in Mozambique.

How can one statement encompass so many difficult-to-translate experiences? I guess I should start by saying AJ and I are both in one piece (obviously, since I’m writing this). There rest will just be hodgepodge of impressions.

It took us roughly 30 hours to travel from Philadelphia to Maputo. Once there, we had two days of vaccines and orientation in the city and then headed to Pre-Service Training(PST) on Saturday, Oct 3 (My 30th birthday!). We arrived in the afternoon and were greeted by a crowd of women singing traditional songs of welcome. I didn’t know voices could sound that thick. You felt it more than heard it: a blanket of sound.

All of our host mothers and sisters were holding signs taxi-driver style with our names on them. Of course, we don’t speak Portuguese, and our “irmá” (sister), doesn’t either, so we pointed and pantomimed our way home. Our host family’s home is luxurious. We definitely lucked out. We have some electricity and an indoor bathroom. (Note: In Mozambique, an indoor bathroom is a fifties-era bathroom with no running water. You flush the toilet by dumping a bucket of water in it and bathe with a bucket of water in the bathtub. Still, it’s better than the outdoor “latrina.”) We have our own (very small – maybe 10’ x 20’) building that is behind the main house, which gives us a little privacy.

The people here are incredibly friendly and welcoming, the countryside is beautiful, and the culture is, while still very foreign to us, appealing. The food is surprisingly reminiscent of deep southern cooking. One of my favorite dishes is xima. It is almost exactly like grits, just a little firmer. We had beef (another sign our family is well-off) in a peanut and coconut sauce last night. Delicious.

We are slowly picking up the Portuguese and figuring out how to function in this exciting new place. We are required to bathe twice a day (three if you count the bedroom bath required of married couples before, well, you know). You get two buckets in your bedroom – one for washing, one for “xi-xi” (urine). You can imagine our embarrassment when it was discovered a few days ago that we had been using the wrong bucket for the wrong thing. Our host father explained the proper usage of each bucket to AJ, sex pantomime included. Ah, cultural exchange.

Our days are crammed full for now. We have class from 7:30am to around 6pm M-F and 7:30 to noon on Saturdays. Because the family routines are much more regimented here than in the U.S. and because we have a long (45 minute) walk to class, we have to get up at 5:30am to make it to our first language session in the morning. By the time our second “banho” and dinner are over, it is often 9:30pm and time to sleep.

We have very limited internet access here. There are two functioning internet computers in town, 69 trainees, and 15 or so staff members. You get the idea. So, if you’ve e-mailed me and I haven’t gotten back to you, it means I haven’t gotten through my ginormous inbox of e-mail, not that I don’t want to talk to you. I know I’ve left out so much, but I could write fifty pages and still leave 90% of the last two week’s events out.

We are falling in love with our new home, but missing our old one. We LOVE e-mails, even if we only get to pick them up once every couple of weeks. So keep in touch! :)

Up, Up, and Away

It seems that each time I approach a pivotal moment in my life, the lens blurs. The days beforehand have a fuzziness to them, and then when the moment itself arrives, it is as if a giant hand turns the focus ring and the world sharpens.

Tonight, my perspective is vivid.

At noon tomorrow, our flight leaves for staging in Philadelphia. Wednesday morning, we board a plane to Johannesburg, and our Peace Corps experience will begin. My friends and family keep asking how I feel, expecting I think, to hear the usual excited, nervous, etc. All of those descriptors would be apt, but the overriding emotion I feel tonight is how privileged we are to have this opportunity.

In three days, we will share another people's customs and cares; we will learn to think in another language; we will meet new families and friends. I hope to contribute in the small ways I am able, and I feel an overwhelming sense that I will receive much more than I will be able to give.

Whether you are family, friend, or stranger. I hope this blog will provide a window to our experience in Mozambique. We are sure to make hilarious mistakes and encounter intriguing situations. Comment to your heart's content and remember, a letter or e-mail goes a long way toward combating homesickness.

Tchau meus amigos!

Goodbye Sahara, Hello Mozambique

When we sent in our Peace Corps applications a year and a half ago, we were told one thing over and over and over. Prepare to be flexible. They weren't kidding.

Four days before our scheduled departure for Mauritania, our bags were packed, our cell phones were canceled, and the going-away parties were over. We were ready to hit the road. And then the phone rang.

We were delayed.

Two weeks later, the phone rang again.

We were canceled.

A week later, an e-mail appeared.

We're now off to Mozambique in September.

As much as our hearts were set on Mauritania, I have to admit, Mozambique sounds like an incredible destination. A stable democracy for fifteen years, Mozambique is in the process of rebuilding from an extended civil war that ended in 1992. During the civil war, the educational system fell into disrepair, and there is still a shortage of trained teachers in the country.

AJ will be serving as a science teacher, and I will be an English teacher/teacher trainer. We are both excited about the prospect of participating in the rebuilding of the Mozambique education system.

On a more selfish note, the country is visually stunning: gorgeous beaches, lush mountains, unique flora and fauna. It is, to say the least, a photographer's paradise with plenty to keep a biologist buzzing as well.

The upside of three more months in the States? My chapbook, Barbed Wire and Bedclothes, should be coming out any minute. Also, check out these links to some of my work that has been published recently in Keyhole Magazine and Breadcrumb Scabs.