[A rough translation of Jess's last post, using a few online translation tools.]
Look at a map of Mozambique. Nampula City and Gurue (NW in Zambezia province) do not seem to be 12 hours apart. But sometimes they may be. After the conference, I decided to visit another volunteer for a few days on site in Gurue. We were very excited that the Peace Corps driver needed to make a visit to a nearby city, so we could get a free, fast ride there. Or so we thought. We left half an hour after the departure time indicated, which is, by definition, not late here. We had a good first hour-and-a-half drive, but then got a flat tire. The driver knew how to change it, and there was a spare tire ... only problem was that the spare tire was already flat. Then, after waiting for another spare, and then waiting for another transport, and at one point being harassed while waiting, we finally arrived in Gurue.
Let me make some comparisons between Gurue and Nacaroa: Gurue has actual stores where you can go in and look for products and choose what you want and take it to the cash register to pay. Nacaroa has shops that consist of a counter, behind which are some shelves that are stocked with a selection of basic products. You tell the worker what you want, and he or she takes it off the shelf and gives it to you. There are no cash registers, and people tend to use calculators to add 15 + 30, or multiply 3 x 6. Gurue has street lights that work, computers and a computer room at school, an internet cafe (where I am now), electricity (obviously) and running water at certain times of the day. Nacaroa has street lights that are, apparently, a decorative item as there is no electricity. Ironically, the only time you can see the street lights is during the day. The whole town has no public computers, no Internet, and running water is not even in anyone's thoughts. Electricity is on everyone's mind, though. How to have a chicken dinner: Gurue – go to the store and buy a pack of boneless, skinless chicken breasts. Nacaroa – buy a live chicken, kill it, defeather it, skin it, cook it. Gurue has real streets and gas pumps. Nacaroa has dirt roads and guys who sell gas in water bottles. (I'm not sure where they get the gas from, but they painted “BP” on the side of the stall that sells it, which makes me laugh.)
On the other hand: in Gurue, men harass you at the market, and the people don’t really know each other and rarely greet you in the streets. In Nacaroa, people greet each other and smile. I cannot go to the market without meeting at least 3 people I know and ten foreigners in a 10-minute walk. In Gurue, there are other white people, so there's nothing special about me. Everyone in Nacaroa is interested in talking to me because I'm the only white person around and they do not know what to think. In Gurue, starting work by 7 am is super early. In Nacaroa, I see at least three people I know on the streets before 6 am – when I'm running, just before leaving for work.
Overall, Gurue is amazing, but Nacaroa is much more of what I expected and wanted for my two years in Africa.
I'll probably post again tomorrow.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A stark contrast
Olhe para um mapa de Moçambique. Cidade de Nampula e Gurue (em NW província da Zambézia), não parece ser uma viagem de 12 horas de intervalo. Mas eles podem ser. Após a conferência, decidi visitar um outro voluntário para alguns dias em seu site na Gurue. Estávamos muito animado que o Corpo de Paz driver necessário para fazer uma visita a um neraby cidade, para que pudéssemos obter um livre, rápido passeio mais do caminho. Ou então pensamos. Saímos de menos de meia hora depois da hora de partida indicado, que é, por definição, não tarde aqui. Tivemos um bom primeiro horas e meia de viagem, mas tem um pneu furado. O motorista sabia como mudar isso, houve uma tomada e um pneu sobressalente ... único problema foi que o pneu sobressalente já era plana. Então, depois de esperar, pegar uma carona, esperando encontrar uma chapa, a ser assediado durante a espera e, finalmente, encontrar uma outra chapa chegamos Gurue.
Deixe-me fazer algumas comparações entre Gurue e Nacaroa: Gurue tem lojas reais, onde você pode ir dentro e olhar para os produtos e escolha o que quiser e levá-lo para a caixa registadora para pagar. Nacaroa tem lojas que consistem de um balcão, atrás do qual são algumas prateleiras que estão abastecido com uma seleção de produtos básicos. Você diz que o trabalhador que quiser, e tirá-lo da prateleira e entregá-lo para você. Não existem registos de dinheiro, e as pessoas costumam usar calculadoras para adicionar 15 + 30, ou multiplicar 3 x 6. Gurue tem luzes de rua que trabalham, computadores e sala de informática na escola, um internet café que eu estou agora, energia elétrica (obviamente) de água e execução em determinados momentos do dia. Nacaroa tem luzes de rua que são, aparentemente, um item decorativo pois não há eletricidade. Ironicamente, a única vez que você pode ver as luzes da rua se durante o dia. A cidade inteira não tem computadores públicos, definitivamente internet não, e água corrente, não é mesmo na mente de ninguém. (Como a eletricidade é na mente de todos embora.) Como comer frango com jantar: Gurue, ir à loja e comprar um maço de desossada, breats frango sem pele. Nacaroa-comprar uma galinha viva, matá-lo, defeather ele, a pele dela, cozinhá-lo. Gurue tem meios de tráfego e bombas de gás. Nacaroa tem estradas de terra e caras que vendem gás em garrafas de água. (Eu não tenho certeza se ele recebe a partir de. Mas eles pintaram "BP" do lado da barraca que vende-lo, o que me faz sorrir.)
Por outro lado, Gurue tem homens que assediá-lo no mercado. Nacaroa tem pessoas que cumprimentá-lo e sorrir. Pessoas em Gurue realmente não sei se mutuamente e raramente cumprimentá-lo nas ruas. Em Nacaroa eu não posso ir ao mercado sem cumprimentar pelo menos 3 pessoas que eu conheço e 10 estrangeiros na caminhada de 10 minutos. Gurue tem outras pessoas brancas, por isso não tem nada de especial aqui. Evenone em Nacaroa está interessado em falar comigo porque eu sou a única pessoa branca em volta e não sabem o que pensar. Em Gurue começar a trabalhar por 7am é super precoce. Em Nacaroa vejo pelo menos três pessoas que conheço nas ruas antes de 6 da manhã, quando eu vou correr, só sair antes do trabalho.
Globalmente, Gurue é surpreendente, mas Nacaroa é muito mais do que eu imaginava e queria para os meus dois anos na África.
Eu provavelmente vou postar novamente amanhã.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
A week in the big city
I'm in Nampula City for the week for a conference. I took an amazing warm shower with running water last night. I'd forgotten how nice things like that are! And the food here...it's a buffet with all sorts of exotic food, like meat, fruit, yogurt, ice cream, and salad! Ok, so it's not exotic per se, but it's stuff I can't/don't eat at site. There is also air conditioning, electricity, and all sorts of frivolous things like that!
Work is going well. I really like the other teachers I work with, even though I do sometimes see them accepting bribes and doing things that are "really bad" by American standards, but here it's so common that you can't really judge the individual because it's really a societal thing. I'm in the process of trying to get an English club going, and there seems to be a lot of interest in it. I'm not sure how interest will translate to actual attendance, but we'll see. I've been having such a great time just hanging out in the afternoons (I only teach in the mornings), visiting friends and colleagues, watching soccer games in the community, etc that I've been really unmotivated to get other projects going, but I know I should, so English club will be Secondary Project #1.
I've started trying to learn Macua, the local langauge. There is a teacher at the elementary school who really wants to become and English teacher, so I teach him Engilsh, and he teaches me Macua. I let him borrow an English self-learn book that I have, and he skipped school the next day to do a bunch of exercises in it.
My director has finally admited that my roommate is not coming this year. I'm thinking about getting a student to come live with me. A lot of teachers and other people do this with orphans or students with other family problems. The student does all of the cleaning, cooking, washing, etc in exchange for a place to live and food to eat. So that would be helpful, and I think worth the additional cost of food, especially since I don't spend nearly all of my monthly salary, cuz there's really not a whole lot to buy.
Some price/other examples:
1 kilo of beans: 10 mets/$0.33
a good flashlight: 100 mets/~$3
getting to the capital: 100 mets/150 kilometers/ ~100 miles/ 3-4 hours
a decent sized lime: .5mets / 2 cents
a large roll (bread): 2 mets / 7 cents
1 egg: 6 mets / 20 cents
a lot of okra: 5 mets / 17 cents
too many (fresh) peanuts to eat in one sitting: 1 met / 3 cents
Exciting news from Mike: He got an invitation to be a Volunteer too! He should know the exact location and leave date soon, but for now we (think) we know Africa, and leaving in June.
Look for more posts in the next few days
Work is going well. I really like the other teachers I work with, even though I do sometimes see them accepting bribes and doing things that are "really bad" by American standards, but here it's so common that you can't really judge the individual because it's really a societal thing. I'm in the process of trying to get an English club going, and there seems to be a lot of interest in it. I'm not sure how interest will translate to actual attendance, but we'll see. I've been having such a great time just hanging out in the afternoons (I only teach in the mornings), visiting friends and colleagues, watching soccer games in the community, etc that I've been really unmotivated to get other projects going, but I know I should, so English club will be Secondary Project #1.
I've started trying to learn Macua, the local langauge. There is a teacher at the elementary school who really wants to become and English teacher, so I teach him Engilsh, and he teaches me Macua. I let him borrow an English self-learn book that I have, and he skipped school the next day to do a bunch of exercises in it.
My director has finally admited that my roommate is not coming this year. I'm thinking about getting a student to come live with me. A lot of teachers and other people do this with orphans or students with other family problems. The student does all of the cleaning, cooking, washing, etc in exchange for a place to live and food to eat. So that would be helpful, and I think worth the additional cost of food, especially since I don't spend nearly all of my monthly salary, cuz there's really not a whole lot to buy.
Some price/other examples:
1 kilo of beans: 10 mets/$0.33
a good flashlight: 100 mets/~$3
getting to the capital: 100 mets/150 kilometers/ ~100 miles/ 3-4 hours
a decent sized lime: .5mets / 2 cents
a large roll (bread): 2 mets / 7 cents
1 egg: 6 mets / 20 cents
a lot of okra: 5 mets / 17 cents
too many (fresh) peanuts to eat in one sitting: 1 met / 3 cents
Exciting news from Mike: He got an invitation to be a Volunteer too! He should know the exact location and leave date soon, but for now we (think) we know Africa, and leaving in June.
Look for more posts in the next few days
Saturday, February 27, 2010
My house etc
My house has a lot of make-shift things. To start, my bookcase is the cardboard box that my oven came in. My spice racks are made from pieces of cardboard that I folded and duct taped to make rectangle boxes, and then used fabric to make strings to hang them from nails on my wall. The nails are actually real nails, hammered in using a rock. My dresser is still my suitcase. I asked for an armoire, but instead my director had the “well thought” idea to change that request and tell the carpenters to make me a coat rack. I will be buying hangars today in Nampula. I had a very nice cornfield in my back yard, but now a have only a so-so cornfield. First, my neighbors had the insight to cut down a tree in their yard, which fell into my yard, which damaged some corn, and they just left their fallen tree there in my way. I say they had the insight to do that, because a few days later a very similar tree that I had in my yard fell over in a rainstorm, damaging even more corn. Oh well, there was way more corn than I would have ever been able to use anyway.
So last weekend a woman showed up at my house. “Do you know how to make matapa?” she asked me. I didn’t. “Ok when do you want to come make some with me?” I told her I didn’t know. I was still trying to figure out who she was, if I was supposed to know who she was, if I had met her before, etc. “Today?” she asked. I suggested the following day. She sent a girl who lives in my neighborhood who I had talked to several times to come get me the next day, and we went to her house. She lives only a 2 minute walk from me, but it is drastically more rural. Her house was made of sticks and mud. Mine is made from cement blocks with a tin roof. Many of her family members didn’t speak much Portuguese. First we picked green beans, but not like American green beans. These are beans that come in the pod, but you have to take the beans out and cook them like dried beans. Then we picked pumpkin leaves. Then they pounded and crushed peanuts to make them look like flour. Then you just cook it all together, and you have this stuff to put over rice. I finally figured out that she was the sister of the head secretary at school. (Head secretary is a very prestigious position. You can get promoted from being a teacher to being the head secretary.)
I got a thermometer sent from home a few weeks ago: average temperatures out side are about 95-96 during the afternoon, and 80ish or even a little lower at night. Inside, it’s usually around 90-92 in the afternoon, and 85-87 at bed time, and maybe low eighties when I wake up. 95 outside can actually be pretty pleasant (or at least not unpleasant) in the shade, especially with even a small breeze. But 85 inside at night is surprisingly miserable to sleep in. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I’m often sweaty and gross. Therefore, I often opt to sleep on my porch, which isn’t nearly as soft, but overall much more pleasant.
It is malaria season here, because it is the rainy season. I can’t even count how many people I know who have gotten it already, but it doesn’t seem like too big of a deal to them. They just take the medicine, which is really cheap and easy to get, and get better.
My guard is one of those people who got malaria. Obviously I sent him home and told him he didn’t have to work. A few days later he came back, and offered to clean my house, as he occasionally does. I knew my floors were a bit dirty, so I did a quick sweep before he came in so he wouldn’t think I was gross. But he still swept out a too-big pile of dirt, scrubbed my floors, washed some rags and buckets, etc. So I decided to give him a peanut butter sandwich (peanut butter is kind of a big deal here). That night when he arrived for work, he gave me a broom and told me that his wife wanted to give it to me. I’m still not sure if it was a thank you for letting him rest at home/the peanut butter sandwich, or a hint that I should sweep more often. Based on the culture, and my preference, I’m going to assume it was a thank you present.
I really like the other teachers at the school. There are only one or two other female teachers who work in the morning with me, but they either don’t come to work very often, or avoid the teachers’ lounge. Anyway, a group of male teachers came up to me and asked me how to say a word in English, but I didn’t understand the work in Portuguese that they wanted to know. So they preceded to act it out: one teacher bent over and made a noise. Another teacher pointed to his butt and made a face and waved his hand in front of his nose. “Oh! To fart.” They asked me to write it for them, and conjugate it in the past tense. Then they preceded to perform some sort of skit about someone who smelled a fart and wanted to know “Who farted?” I was a little confused, but entertained. They were very entertained with themselves.
Anyone here over the age of 10 or so can bite the tops off of beer or soda bottles that are supposed to require a bottle opener. Anyone over the age of ten can also carry at least 10 gallons of water on their head.
Men here pee in public a lot. Take any place that a drunk American would consider peeing in at night, and a sober Mozambican man will pee there in the middle of the day, with anyone in sight. Snot rockets are also perfectly acceptable by any person in any outside location. Same goes for spitting, including (maybe even especially) during meals.
Our definition of good bread here is pretty much any bread that doesn’t have sand or rocks in it. Bread can still be termed decent if it has only a little bit of sand.
The Portuguese word for chalk is giz. This has led to some very mature jokes among us volunteer about having giz on our pants, etc. Whats that white stuff all over you? Hey, looks like you had a good class, you have giz all over your pants!
I have been asked if I’m afraid of rain, thunder, lightening, heavy rain, the dark, going to the bathroom alone at night, soccer balls, bugs, lizards, butterflies, really heavy rain motorcycles, and many other things that I’m not afraid of. But whenever I tell people I’m afraid of rats, they look at me like I’m weird and they don’t understand why I would be scared of them.
So last weekend a woman showed up at my house. “Do you know how to make matapa?” she asked me. I didn’t. “Ok when do you want to come make some with me?” I told her I didn’t know. I was still trying to figure out who she was, if I was supposed to know who she was, if I had met her before, etc. “Today?” she asked. I suggested the following day. She sent a girl who lives in my neighborhood who I had talked to several times to come get me the next day, and we went to her house. She lives only a 2 minute walk from me, but it is drastically more rural. Her house was made of sticks and mud. Mine is made from cement blocks with a tin roof. Many of her family members didn’t speak much Portuguese. First we picked green beans, but not like American green beans. These are beans that come in the pod, but you have to take the beans out and cook them like dried beans. Then we picked pumpkin leaves. Then they pounded and crushed peanuts to make them look like flour. Then you just cook it all together, and you have this stuff to put over rice. I finally figured out that she was the sister of the head secretary at school. (Head secretary is a very prestigious position. You can get promoted from being a teacher to being the head secretary.)
I got a thermometer sent from home a few weeks ago: average temperatures out side are about 95-96 during the afternoon, and 80ish or even a little lower at night. Inside, it’s usually around 90-92 in the afternoon, and 85-87 at bed time, and maybe low eighties when I wake up. 95 outside can actually be pretty pleasant (or at least not unpleasant) in the shade, especially with even a small breeze. But 85 inside at night is surprisingly miserable to sleep in. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I’m often sweaty and gross. Therefore, I often opt to sleep on my porch, which isn’t nearly as soft, but overall much more pleasant.
It is malaria season here, because it is the rainy season. I can’t even count how many people I know who have gotten it already, but it doesn’t seem like too big of a deal to them. They just take the medicine, which is really cheap and easy to get, and get better.
My guard is one of those people who got malaria. Obviously I sent him home and told him he didn’t have to work. A few days later he came back, and offered to clean my house, as he occasionally does. I knew my floors were a bit dirty, so I did a quick sweep before he came in so he wouldn’t think I was gross. But he still swept out a too-big pile of dirt, scrubbed my floors, washed some rags and buckets, etc. So I decided to give him a peanut butter sandwich (peanut butter is kind of a big deal here). That night when he arrived for work, he gave me a broom and told me that his wife wanted to give it to me. I’m still not sure if it was a thank you for letting him rest at home/the peanut butter sandwich, or a hint that I should sweep more often. Based on the culture, and my preference, I’m going to assume it was a thank you present.
I really like the other teachers at the school. There are only one or two other female teachers who work in the morning with me, but they either don’t come to work very often, or avoid the teachers’ lounge. Anyway, a group of male teachers came up to me and asked me how to say a word in English, but I didn’t understand the work in Portuguese that they wanted to know. So they preceded to act it out: one teacher bent over and made a noise. Another teacher pointed to his butt and made a face and waved his hand in front of his nose. “Oh! To fart.” They asked me to write it for them, and conjugate it in the past tense. Then they preceded to perform some sort of skit about someone who smelled a fart and wanted to know “Who farted?” I was a little confused, but entertained. They were very entertained with themselves.
Anyone here over the age of 10 or so can bite the tops off of beer or soda bottles that are supposed to require a bottle opener. Anyone over the age of ten can also carry at least 10 gallons of water on their head.
Men here pee in public a lot. Take any place that a drunk American would consider peeing in at night, and a sober Mozambican man will pee there in the middle of the day, with anyone in sight. Snot rockets are also perfectly acceptable by any person in any outside location. Same goes for spitting, including (maybe even especially) during meals.
Our definition of good bread here is pretty much any bread that doesn’t have sand or rocks in it. Bread can still be termed decent if it has only a little bit of sand.
The Portuguese word for chalk is giz. This has led to some very mature jokes among us volunteer about having giz on our pants, etc. Whats that white stuff all over you? Hey, looks like you had a good class, you have giz all over your pants!
I have been asked if I’m afraid of rain, thunder, lightening, heavy rain, the dark, going to the bathroom alone at night, soccer balls, bugs, lizards, butterflies, really heavy rain motorcycles, and many other things that I’m not afraid of. But whenever I tell people I’m afraid of rats, they look at me like I’m weird and they don’t understand why I would be scared of them.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
More updates
I´ve been really impressed with the school overall. It seems well organized, has some books, and the teachers usually show up, which is a real problem at a lot of schools here. My director is organized, helpful, and really nice. I feel like in training I heard a lot of the volunteers that we talked to had some negative experiences with their schools, directors, other teachers, etc, but I feel like the other teachers respect, and they talk to me and stuff. I have learned that 7:00 means show up by 8:00, and so on, and optional means no one is coming, and stuff like that, but when school is actually in session most of the teachers and students come. We even have a ´teachers lounge´ which is a gazebo/pavilion type thing outside under the trees. Its actually really nice to relax there between classes.
Overall I really like my community, school, and everything about site. Except rats in my toilet and house. Traveling usually sucks, takes a while in crowded vehicles, get harassed as a tourist, whistled and yelled at etc, but at site, where I am most of the time, the people seem pretty excited about me being there. The most annoying thing is people who speak really bad English insisting on trying to have a conversation with me in English instead of Portuguese, which I hate, but it´s good that at least they´re trying and want to learn and stuff.
Overall I really like my community, school, and everything about site. Except rats in my toilet and house. Traveling usually sucks, takes a while in crowded vehicles, get harassed as a tourist, whistled and yelled at etc, but at site, where I am most of the time, the people seem pretty excited about me being there. The most annoying thing is people who speak really bad English insisting on trying to have a conversation with me in English instead of Portuguese, which I hate, but it´s good that at least they´re trying and want to learn and stuff.
Back to school
Finally another post! To start, I just finished my first week of teaching! It has gone well, but the students have a much more basic level than what I was expecting. The national curriculum says they should be learning “I will be doing” and “I will have done” (future continuous and perfect), and they can’t even write in the simple past. We have a lot of work to do this year. Also, about 25% of my 11th grade students are my age or older. My oldest student is 65 years old, and has never studied English before because when he did 10th grade Mozambique wasn’t even a country yet. But for the most part the students are respectful, try hard, and seem to want to learn English, so that’s nice. The other teachers have been nice, about 75% of them are men but I don’t feel that they have a sexist attitude to us female teachers, as other Volunteers seem to have experienced.
I teach only in the morning, which is nice because it is either super hot, or rainy in the afternoon. The school is about a mile from my house, so I’m glad not to walk in either of those conditions. When I leave my house at 6:30, it’s amazing how hot it already is.
Everything that’s happened since my last post:
-I got mugged. Broad daylight, on a main road, three guys grabbed me and asked for my phone and money. I gave them my phone (I have since bought a new one), and they ran away while I was looking for money. I was alone at the time, but walking to meet some friends. This was in Nampula City, something like this would never happen where I live. I went back two weeks ago with two male volunteers. They tried to mug one of the guys when we were all together, but didn’t succeed.
-We had a nice xmas celebration, all 10 of us new volunteers here in Nampula province. We decorated with stockings, paper snow flakes, and I made a wreath out of acacia branches. We had a secret santa exchange and made cookies!
-There was a rat in my house. I hate rats. But luckily I have a guard, so I made him come in a beat it with a stick. There is a much longer story of knowing the rat was in my house/room and not being able to find it for a few days and sleepless nights. various plans for how to kill it, etc, but this will suffice.
-I no longer have electricity ever. The generator ran out of gas the beginning of the month, and they are not organized enough to figure out how to collect money and keep track of who has paid and who hasn’t. I have heard that it should start again February 1st, but I’m not counting on it.
-There is still pretty much no fresh produce at site, just mangos, onions, potatoes, limes, and sometimes tomatoes and pineapples. In about a month more should be ready. This lack of food options was not helped this past week by the fact that my gas tank for my stove ran out, so I’ve been eating a lot of peanut butter or tuna fish sandwiches since Tuesday.
Fun Facts:
-here the paper and binders have two holes, not three
-blue ink is the norm for official business, not black
-breast feeding in public is normal, as is leaving the breast hanging in the open so the kid can start feeding again at will
-false cognate: constipado. It means having a stuffy/runny nose, not being constipated, but caused a little awkwardness before I knew that
-I wash my clothes in basins. I don’t know why some many people in the US hate doing laundry, all it entails is throwing clothes in a machine and pushing buttons. Here I scrub each piece of clothing my hand and get blisters.
-It’s really really hot.
I might update more in a few minutes. We will see.
I teach only in the morning, which is nice because it is either super hot, or rainy in the afternoon. The school is about a mile from my house, so I’m glad not to walk in either of those conditions. When I leave my house at 6:30, it’s amazing how hot it already is.
Everything that’s happened since my last post:
-I got mugged. Broad daylight, on a main road, three guys grabbed me and asked for my phone and money. I gave them my phone (I have since bought a new one), and they ran away while I was looking for money. I was alone at the time, but walking to meet some friends. This was in Nampula City, something like this would never happen where I live. I went back two weeks ago with two male volunteers. They tried to mug one of the guys when we were all together, but didn’t succeed.
-We had a nice xmas celebration, all 10 of us new volunteers here in Nampula province. We decorated with stockings, paper snow flakes, and I made a wreath out of acacia branches. We had a secret santa exchange and made cookies!
-There was a rat in my house. I hate rats. But luckily I have a guard, so I made him come in a beat it with a stick. There is a much longer story of knowing the rat was in my house/room and not being able to find it for a few days and sleepless nights. various plans for how to kill it, etc, but this will suffice.
-I no longer have electricity ever. The generator ran out of gas the beginning of the month, and they are not organized enough to figure out how to collect money and keep track of who has paid and who hasn’t. I have heard that it should start again February 1st, but I’m not counting on it.
-There is still pretty much no fresh produce at site, just mangos, onions, potatoes, limes, and sometimes tomatoes and pineapples. In about a month more should be ready. This lack of food options was not helped this past week by the fact that my gas tank for my stove ran out, so I’ve been eating a lot of peanut butter or tuna fish sandwiches since Tuesday.
Fun Facts:
-here the paper and binders have two holes, not three
-blue ink is the norm for official business, not black
-breast feeding in public is normal, as is leaving the breast hanging in the open so the kid can start feeding again at will
-false cognate: constipado. It means having a stuffy/runny nose, not being constipated, but caused a little awkwardness before I knew that
-I wash my clothes in basins. I don’t know why some many people in the US hate doing laundry, all it entails is throwing clothes in a machine and pushing buttons. Here I scrub each piece of clothing my hand and get blisters.
-It’s really really hot.
I might update more in a few minutes. We will see.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
First trip to Nampula City
[Written by mom and dad after speaking with Jess]
I had a nice Christmas visiting with other volunteers in Monopo, but I wasn’t able to blog from there because the internet café was closed for Christmas. So I asked my parents to update my blog. [Editor’s note: Jess’s dad has been rather slow to post this.]
I had an exciting time on my first trip to Nampula City. When I arrived, after a 3-hour chapa ride, I called the other volunteers that I had planned on meeting there. As I put my cell phone back in my pack, three guys suddenly surrounded me, telling me to give them my cell phone and my money. I handed over the phone, and they started saying “Hurry up! Give us your money!” I searched through my purse trying to find the money; the guys kept saying to hurry; I kept searching; and in a few seconds they ran away. I guess I was lucky that I didn’t find the money. It all happened so quickly that I didn't even have time to get scared.
After a couple of hours at the police station, reporting the robbery, I ran into the other volunteers and we did some shopping. First on my list was a new cell phone – I opted for a more basic (ie, cheaper) model than the one that had just been stolen. Next was food and household stuff. I didn’t buy as much as I planned to, because the merchants tried charging me prices way above what they were charging the local people. When I questioned this, the answer usually was “take it or leave it,” and in most cases, I left it. Overall, shopping in Nampula City was rather frustrating. But the day wasn’t over yet – I still had to get back home.
When I went to pay for the chapa ride going back to Nacaroa, they asked for a price much higher than what was reasonable. Again, their attitude was “take it or leave it.” And again, I wouldn’t pay the unfair prices that they wanted. Instead, I found a more economical, though less comfortable, means of transportation, crammed in like sardines with a bunch of other people. The woman next to me was holding a baby, sandwiched between us. It was kind of cute for a while, but unfortunately, the baby was facing my way when his/her bladder decided to relieve itself. Finally, I got back home, washed up, and began looking forward to the next day.
I am learning what it is like to stand out as an obvious non-local. In Nampula City, they charged me higher prices. Here in Nacaroa, everybody knows where I live and that I am the new
American teacher. I’ve had kids knock on my door and ask if I would hire them to do some work for me. The school provides a guard who watches the house overnight, sweeps the yard, and replenishes our water supply as needed. The other day he told me that he also is a good mechanic, and wanted a job fixing things.
The school year will start soon. Teachers are supposed to arrive by Jan 11, and classes will start around Jan 18. It’s finally been decided that I will teach English, not Chemistry. I will have three sections of 11th grade English, which meets five days a week. I also will be Director of a quarter of the 11th grade students. I am looking forward to it.
I had a nice Christmas visiting with other volunteers in Monopo, but I wasn’t able to blog from there because the internet café was closed for Christmas. So I asked my parents to update my blog. [Editor’s note: Jess’s dad has been rather slow to post this.]
I had an exciting time on my first trip to Nampula City. When I arrived, after a 3-hour chapa ride, I called the other volunteers that I had planned on meeting there. As I put my cell phone back in my pack, three guys suddenly surrounded me, telling me to give them my cell phone and my money. I handed over the phone, and they started saying “Hurry up! Give us your money!” I searched through my purse trying to find the money; the guys kept saying to hurry; I kept searching; and in a few seconds they ran away. I guess I was lucky that I didn’t find the money. It all happened so quickly that I didn't even have time to get scared.
After a couple of hours at the police station, reporting the robbery, I ran into the other volunteers and we did some shopping. First on my list was a new cell phone – I opted for a more basic (ie, cheaper) model than the one that had just been stolen. Next was food and household stuff. I didn’t buy as much as I planned to, because the merchants tried charging me prices way above what they were charging the local people. When I questioned this, the answer usually was “take it or leave it,” and in most cases, I left it. Overall, shopping in Nampula City was rather frustrating. But the day wasn’t over yet – I still had to get back home.
When I went to pay for the chapa ride going back to Nacaroa, they asked for a price much higher than what was reasonable. Again, their attitude was “take it or leave it.” And again, I wouldn’t pay the unfair prices that they wanted. Instead, I found a more economical, though less comfortable, means of transportation, crammed in like sardines with a bunch of other people. The woman next to me was holding a baby, sandwiched between us. It was kind of cute for a while, but unfortunately, the baby was facing my way when his/her bladder decided to relieve itself. Finally, I got back home, washed up, and began looking forward to the next day.
I am learning what it is like to stand out as an obvious non-local. In Nampula City, they charged me higher prices. Here in Nacaroa, everybody knows where I live and that I am the new
American teacher. I’ve had kids knock on my door and ask if I would hire them to do some work for me. The school provides a guard who watches the house overnight, sweeps the yard, and replenishes our water supply as needed. The other day he told me that he also is a good mechanic, and wanted a job fixing things.
The school year will start soon. Teachers are supposed to arrive by Jan 11, and classes will start around Jan 18. It’s finally been decided that I will teach English, not Chemistry. I will have three sections of 11th grade English, which meets five days a week. I also will be Director of a quarter of the 11th grade students. I am looking forward to it.
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