riverboat blues

i sometimes ponder how i would manage if i had a disability.  for instance, this morning as i was washing up, i wondered how i would wash my armpits if i was missing my left hand (i decided it would be my left since i like my right one a little better).  i didn't do a very good job, my right pit didn't smell so good. 

 

yesterday i was helping mama gloria in the kitchen.  arlindo came in from working in the garden.  mama gloria pulled a bag of frozen homemade rolls out of the fridge and was laughing at how hard they were.  i turned around just in time to see arlindo grab one and bang it on his sweaty perspiring forehead, proving how hard they actually were, and then put it back in the bag.  GROSS! 

 

mental note: do not eat any bread rolls until alice makes more or search and destroy that bag! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

don't panic

victor has been whistling "there's power in the blood" since 6:45AM.  he is on his 57th verse.  its now 8:17AM.  nothing wrong with the song but at that pitch and repetition one could go crazy.  no one is, yet.  i'm just saying.

 

we have two more characters that have joined our story, jafet and fernando.  jafet showed up a week ago.  he is a kind, calm soul. fernando came this past monday.  both of them speak english but came to learn more.  i started talking to jafet when he got here.  i got a string of words out and he tilted his head back and smiled.  he said, "you speak very fast american english".  i slowed down a bit and threw in a british accent and he understood me.  i thought about trying the british accent the next morning of class.  it didn't go over quite like i'd hoped.  they still looked lost. 

 

we call fernando 'mr. president'.  i got tired of sitting at the head of the table at meals so i moved a couple chairs down and sat across from mama gloria.  no one noticed until fernando came and i pointed for him to sit in my previous place, since clemenica was now pointing to me to move back.  he sat down and clemencia called him 'mr. president'.  the title suits him; he is quite a bit more refined than, say, wild-man phineas and i'll-eat-what-you-don't-eat victor.  i don't mind sitting across from mama gloria, i actually enjoy it.  the down side is, i'm closer to phineas, not that its a problem but i have to make sure not to look at him while i eat (or take a deep breath if a breeze comes in the window).  the guy has a large mouth and for some reason doesn't know how to close it when it eats.  he actually looks quite barbaric if you watch him.  i've suggested he close his mouth when he chews and he will for about four chomps, then its open again. so now it just amuses me and/or grosses me out.

 

wednesday night there was an earthquake.  thursday morning in class everyone was talking about it.  they were chattering about it in portuguese but kept making the motions like the house was shaking and saying 'chuva' the word for rain.  i thought they were talking about a storm that passed that night so i assumed they meant the thunder shook the house.  had i known what 'terremoto' meant i would have had a clue.  one of them asked me if i woke up when the house shook.  i said "no, i slept all night" (for once). they were really surprised. february is rainy season here, we get storms at night on a regular basis, i really thought nothing of it.  they couldn't believe i didn't wake up.  clemencia said that one of her friends from the states saw the 'weather' on the news and called to see if she was alright. i thought, wow, that must have been some thunder.  in my little teacher head i thought, "great, i can use this and teach them a conversation using the storm".  after we finished a vocabulary list and some definitions i wrote out a fill-in-the-blank conversation on the board that i wanted them to complete and then practice.  i gave them a word bank next to it.  they followed my instructions and did as they were told but when the few of them that had dictionaries looked up the words they would intermittently look up at me with quizzical looks.  the quizzical looks are a common thing so i thought nothing of it until i went to ADRA that afternoon to teach.  jair asked me if i felt the earthquake.  an, earthquake?  so that's what my students were talking about.  no wonder they looked so confused.  

 

little cricket, you have much to learn.   

 

 

   

that's amore

Flower Peddler.... doesn't miss a beat.

"If you don't buy a flower, then you better pay me for the photo you just took...obrigada, tchau!"

sunshine in your universe

Maputo Sunrise

where is the love?

i'm becoming prolific at assassinating mosquitoes.  i'm so good i do it in my sleep.

 

i swept my room today.  i try to sweep the floor everyday but some days i'm lazy.  one of my windows doesn't have any glass in it.  it has a screen to keep most of the bugs out but no glass, so whatever dust and sand the wind blows in accumulates on my bed and on the floor.  if i kept all the sand that i swept up everyday i think i could have had enough for a small sand box by now.  too bad i left my toy trucks at home. 

 

while i was sweeping i noticed the carcasses of mosquitos.  they had died in the night trying to get inside my mosquito net.  maybe they just wanted to keep me company or maybe they were out for blood.  whatever the reason, they died trying. as i swept up their dead corpses, i had no pity.  i didn't shed a tear.  i must confess i was rather joyful to see their numbers increase in the small dust pile as i got closer to the hall outside my door.  

 

victor sweeps the hall every morning.  it tried to get the dirt pile out the door before he came by so i could let him fret about the funeral arrangements.  i watched him sweep everything out the front door with little to no thought.  he must dislike the little boogers as much as i do.

 

there is a spider in my bathroom.  i'm not very fond of spiders but since he hasn't bothered me yet i'd somehow feel more guilty about killing him.  i'll let him carry on about his business.  in the evening before it rains the mosquitoes swarm more than usual.  its going to storm again tonight and they are already calling a conference in my bathroom as i sit here and type this.  i hope my spider gets busy tonight and decides he's hungry for some mosqui-meat; that will take care of two things for me.  if the mosquito has malaria and the spider eats it then they both will die, and i'm out one attack spider due to natural causes, (its not my fault if he gets indigestion).  if the mosquito doesn't have malaria, but the spider still eats it, then i'm out one less mosquito and the happier for it.

 

          

rocky mountain high

this place reminds me of denver. i see half naked kids walking their goats. the predominant color is reddish brown and even the things that used to be white are reddish brown. sand is everywhere. men, women and children balance 5 gallon containers of water on their heads. the smell of the salty bay and oily bodies fills the air. its nearly 100 degrees out everyday. palm trees line the coast. avocado trees are pregnant with meat. mangos and pineapples are for sale on various corners. the majority of the people here have really really dark tans. the majority of the people who have really dark tans think that i have more money than they do since i'm not as dark. they try to sell me stuff. even when i say no they keep on waving their wares in front of my face. yes, this reminds me of home.

wait. i seem to remember there should be some really big mountains around here somewhere.

that's amore

Maputo is the home of awkward lovers.  The Italians may say they perfected romance but the Mozambicans have embraced it.  Valentine's Day the city was red with roses.  Stained and scuffed five gallon buckets full of roses were on every corner, trash-filled or not.  Hopeful boys carried them.  Happy girls received them.  It seemed there was hardly a person in town without some version of a flower in his or her hand.  I saw a little barefoot boy, maybe 4 or 5, carrying a small red rose behind his back, walking towards his mother.  I noticed a man, wearing his pressed best, holding carefully wrapped buds as he strutted towards whomever he was determined to woo.  He passed by some guys sitting on the sidewalk who weren't going to let him get away without some teasing.  

 

The people here aren't shy when it comes to natural affection.  Its a common thing to see any two people holding hands; guy-girl, girl-girl, guy-guy.  They have a culture based on 'community'.  It seems they have a constant need to be in contact with someone else.  Even when its ridiculously hot outside they are practically sitting on top of each other, hugging each other, talking, laughing, joking.  Here i'm wondering where i can go to get the best breeze and some serious personal space and they just want to be with each other.  They are quick to laugh and from what i've observed they are quick to get over arguments too.  I saw two guys arguing over an item that actually belonged to the first guy.  Not even twenty minutes later the second guy apologized and gave it back.  They posses an easy going, laid back spirit which sometimes can be mistaken for laziness, (i'm sure there are cases of it here) but for the most part they are good workers.  They have there own sense of style.  A Western influence is evident here, especially among the younger generations, but even that they have tweaked to be their own.  I'm not saying this place is perfect.  This culture definitely possesses their share of complicated problems and major issues but its nice to get a different perspective.        

eye of the tiger

Lenio, Shoda and Avelina
displaying their prowess capabilites.

walking on the sun

i am sitting still and sweating.  i think i should only sweat if i work out or if i'm sitting in a sauna.  i must be sitting in a big sauna.  it stormed the other night.  i liked the lightening.  i thought it would get cooler outside.  it didn't.

 

there is a pool here at the school.  it doesn't have any water in it.  it has leaves and banana peels in it.  i don't like to swim in leaves and banana peels.  i don't go in the pool.  i sit still and sweat.

 

(this is brought to you with thoughts of seth who was complaining about my mini-novels.  i also have forgotten how to speak in anything but short sentences due to a severe lack of shakespeare and being surrounded by people who can only say, "hello, how are you". very similar to a broken record.)

 

ABC easy as 123

I don't think the "Jackson 5" ever taught English as a second language. ABC is NOT as easy as 1,2,3. It's been three weeks of classes now and the students are still struggling to pronounce "H" and "I". In Portuguese the letter "I" is pronounced 'ee' so its hard for them to remember that "E" is 'ee' and "I" is a long 'i'. They also struggle with pronouncing 'th' combination. i must have spend a full 10 minutes trying to get them to say 'thirty' and 'theater'. The 'th' combo into the straight 't' is too much for their mouths to comprehend. Theatre comes out sounding like 'feadur' since they constantly want to pull their lip up to pronounce the 'th' like a 'f' or with their tongue behind their teeth so 'the' sounds like 'duh'. So, just in case you're wondering, we are all mentally exhausted after class each day. I'm tired with trying to come up with creative ways to get them to say it and they of course are still trying to figure out exactly what i said, what it means, how to say it and when to use it. This passed week i tried to go onto formulating questions and conversations; i was faced with a room of blank stares. I realized we had to go back to the beginning. Again. (I think it would really help if these folks invested in some dictionaries and then actually did the homework that i gave them.)

I have several students who have studied English before. Sometimes they understand what i'm teaching and then translate for the rest of the class. Sometimes they don't understand and still translate to the rest of the class. My classic example is Phineas. He really is turning out to be a good guy. I sorely misjudged him at first and was quite scared of him. We both gave each other some space before we realized that the other wasn't so bad. When Phineas talks, he talks. He starts out like a train with a full load of cars, and after a second or two he is full steam ahead without even a pause for a breath. He starts to talk louder and faster until he is on his way to Swaziland, no stops for this load. I've had to silence him several times in class because it becomes quite apparent that no one else is really understanding what he is saying and eventually some students who sort of knew what i was talking about look up at me and say, "Professora, he's not right." Phineas says, "yeah" and "yes" and "ok" with a big smile on his face whether he knows what you are talking about or not.

I had this conversation with Phineas at lunch last Thursday. We were sitting eating salad and numerous other veggies and Victor raised both arms and set them on the table, surrounding his bowl, like a gorilla in the zoo would to protect his food from the other gorillas. I proceeded to do the same only make the actions a bit more accentuated, (victor and i compete for the position of drama king or queen of the day on a daily basis.) Phineas then copies us adding a grunt. Followed by Mama Gloria who is never to be outdone. Fortunately, Clemencia wasn't at the table or she would have thought we all lost our minds. When you can't exactly engage in dinner conversation you soon create new ways to entertain yourselves. Phineas at one point said, "King Kong." I got excited, there were two words i recognized. I said, "King Kong? The big Gorilla? Did you see the movie?" Phineas smiled brightly and said, "Yes!" I said, "When?" He said, "Yes!" I said, "No, when did you see the movie?" He said, "Oh, OK, yeah, i saw..." and proceeded to quote some numbers to me. I then thought, maybe he was talking about a year. He said, "One thousanda, nine, uh, ty, yeah, nineteen?" Then repeated himself, "Yes, One thousand Nine hundred Nineteen" I repeated back, "The year Nineteen nineteen? You saw the movie in 1919?" He quickly said, "Yes, I saw that year" I said, "Phineas, you weren't even born yet" He said, "Yes, a boy, there was a boy." I stood up to take some plates to the kitchen and just smiled at him. This conversation obviously was going no where. I just looked at him and said, "that's great, Phineas" and headed to the sink.

Clemencia still trusts his translating abilities and still frequently asks him to translate what she is saying to me. I'm not sure why since it always ends with one of us shaking our heads or me rolling with laughter. Earlier last week one of my students asked if i would go to his church the following Saturday to hear him and his friends sing some songs they had prepared for the service, i agreed. On Friday at breakfast i told Clemencia that i would be going to a different church the next day and she turned to Phineas and asked him to translate for her. She said something in Portuguese for him to tell me and this is what he said, "a muhter has a daughter." I said, "what? a mother has a daughter?" He replied, "yes, yeah, yes, yes!" Victor looked at my face and asked, "you no understand?" I said, "not a clue." Phineas tried again, "deh, sex, deh sexy sex, uh feminine, mother, yeah, daughter, yeah." I could contain my laughter no longer. This was too much. Somehow me letting Clemencia know that i was going to a different church the next day had earned me the reply of "sexy sex feminine". After breakfast was over, Clemencia found Arlindo outside weeding and called me to have him translate exactly what transpired. Turns out she was saying that she wanted to talk to me as a daughter and tell me that she would have to think about whether she was going to let me go or not. That's where the mother/daughter thing came from. She didn't know what sexy was, so i tried to explain to arlindo and he then tried to explain to Clemencia why i was laughing so hard. Ah, the joys of language barriers.

I've committed a few blunders of my own. The night Mama Gloria found out that her brother died, she came out of her bedroom crying. After Phineas told me (i still wasn't quite sure what was going on, but since Mama Gloria was upset i knew it had to be something bad), i gave her a hug and said "amo te" but i said it wrong. Apparently it's supposed to be 'te amo', because after i said it Clemencia quickly looked at me and said, "no, no". Instead of telling her i loved her and that i was sorry, i had told her to go die. (I guess you can write 'amo te' -like in a letter, but you can't say it, as i found out.) wow.

This morning during class i experienced a new chuckle. (Just so you know, the class is made up of adults, 20's, 30's and 40, Victor is the youngest at 18) I had drawn a picture of a little girl up on the board. The class was instructed to get into groups of two and look up the names for types of clothing a person would wear and basic body features like face, mouth, hair, body, arms, legs. About 15 minutes later i started asking them what the name of basic features was and would write the name they told me on the board. Five minutes into this exercise one of the mothers in my class grabs her chest and says, "professora, what these called?" I took me a second to realize what she was asking, then another second to keep from laughing. I had no idea this was going to turn into a sex-ed class. Then i had to remember that they really don't think of them like we do, to them they are just another part of the body. You would understand what i meant in just one day of driving around town. I see woman walking down the sidewalk, baby tied onto their back by a blanket, swing the baby around front for a meal on the go, with little or no discretion. or while waiting for the bus. or in the market. or on a van made to seat 15 midgets, stuffed with 25 full grown adults, (plus some suckling young).

The mosquitos are biting something fierce so i'll end this chapter for now. Mama Gloria is laughing again, Phineas is smelling better (i still wouldn't stick my face in his pit if you paid me but at least you can't smell him coming), Victor is singing a happy tune and Clemencia is saying something in spanish or portuguese, not sure what, but smiling. And me? I'm appreciating the food more. Yesterday i ate at a student's house and now have a new and more profound thankfulness for what is served here at the school. I weigh 53 kilos now, apparently that rations me more food. I asked to weigh myself today and i pointed to what i weighed when i got here and she saw what i weighed now and looked fairly shocked and said in portuguese, you need to eat more. (yeah, i know)

i tried to include a picture of the week so hopefully this works. friday when i was in town, i saw this little girl who was quite enamored with the water spigot, she started out in her sandy bathing suit and eventually ended up in her birthday suit. a prize goes to whoever can come up with the best caption. cheers.

valley's fill first

There comes a time in every one of my world travel/treks that i fall into a funk.  I usually slip into the muck about three weeks into my stay.  The last time i experienced this was Nov. 2002; i had been in India/Bangladesh for three weeks.  That time, i'd say, was pretty legitimate: i had just gotten over a food poisoning incident in which i threw-up everything but my toenails, the safety of the health fair that i was teaching at had been threatened by some anti-women-education guys, and bomb dogs were routinely sniffing out our lecture tent.  This time, i was just really bored, very alone and extremely hungry.  (Nothing too life threatening, unless the food issue continued, but i do know where the market is.)  Both times though, my perception of the world around me was skewed.  I was so introspective that i trampled the flowers in front of me, not even knowing to look up and notice them.  Both times, it took two things to wake me up.  In Bangladesh, i was standing next to one of the coordinators of the program and he handed me his cell and said, "It's your parents."  I don't remember what they said but i remember them praying with me and once again i had peace.  I know i sobbed like a baby while they were talking to me but after they hung up i felt in touch with life again.  I had a family and they loved me.  Soon after that, i went for a walk that took me and some others to another booth at the health fair.  This booth was run by a group of girls whose faces were badly disfigured because someone at some point in their lives had purposely thrown acid in their faces.  They were there to raise awareness and support.  All of them had already undergone at least one, if not several surgeries to help bring their faces back to some sense of normalcy.   Each girl had been through an untold about of pain and agony and were still able to smile, no matter how crooked that smile might be.  Within minutes after meeting them, hugs were exchanged.  My reason for tears was null and void.  The Funk of 2002 was officially over.  

 

My African funk started a few days ago.  I was getting no where with my English classes, (which i'll tell you about at a later date) they were still struggling to even remember the letters in the alphabet and i realized there was no way we could go on with pronouns or sentence structure, communicating was (and is still) a continuous struggle, the food wasn't cutting the hunger pangs (i was even eating okra), and it had been brought to my attention that i wasn't allowed outside the gate without an escort.  (Up until now i thought i had someone with me because i didn't know where i was going, but now that i had my bearings i figured it was all right to navigate alone, not so.)

 

We were a sad bunch at breakfast that morning (the morning the funk arrived).  Mama Gloria found out the night before that one of her brothers had died.  I was wallowing in homesickness.  Clemencia was itching her head continuously, claiming an allergy to mafura (a local fruit), and groaning about it.  Phineas was sulking for some reason, probably because i had just called him out on his B.O., (i know i'm not the best smelling flower in the garden but even the natives knew when Phineas was coming).  And Victor?  Victor was humming a meloncholy tune for some song that he was obsessed over.  (If you want to see passion when it comes to music, watch Victor.  Bach and Handel have nothing on this guy.  He can't compose or play the piano to save his life but he loves music.  There are two ways to get this guy excited, give him some new clothes or another song, and he is on top of the roof.)  We truly looked pathetic that morning and if i hadn't been drowning in self-pity i would seen a bit more humor in it.  Mama Gloria was the only one with a reason to be sad, the rest of us were just mourners for our own funerals.  

 

By the next day, everyone else was a bit more alive.  I was still in the dumps.  I lived there till yesterday. 

 

Yesterday started out as usual.  I got up, checked for messages on clemencia's email, had breakfast, and taught the english class.  When class was over at noon, i knew i had at least an hour before lunch so I took a walk without telling anyone.  Clemencia saw me leave but i thought i would be back in time for lunch.  They served lunch early since they were going to town and i missed it.  (Vital info i should have asked before my independant excursion.)  I returned as they were pulling the gate open and driving the car out.  I grabbed my bag and ran.  I missed lunch; i wasn't going to miss town.  Clemencia was on the hunt to get her some of her vaccines taken care of, to help in the process of getting her green card since she is hoping to meet her husband in the states shortly after i leave here in April.  We drove back and forth between two different clinics four times.  After the 4th trip to clinic #1 we got the desired vaccine on ice and headed to clinic #2 for the last time.  While waiting in the car, I asked why someone didn't just use the phone to call the two clinics earlier, to save time and gas.  I was told this is how things are done in Mozambique.  (Clearly, this is not a culture of efficiency nor convenience.  Which is an interesting fact to note since i witnessed as least three beggars hanging out on various street corners talking on cell phones.  Clearly, they are not completely poverty striken either, because if i were in their shoes my celly would probably be the first thing to go.)  After the shot was administered we headed off to the market.  I'm not particularly fond of the market; its smelly, dirty, and crowded but it's also a chance to brush shoulders with the natives and feel a little African.  Until, that is, they start laughing at you because you are carrying a bag of beans on your head like they do.  I was still hungry and the laughter didn't fill me, felt more like taunting really.  We finished our market business and headed to the main part of the city in search for books in English for this poor undercommunicated soul.  The bookstore was closed.  As we drove closer to the beachfront we passed "Nando's".  My friend, Erin, whose parents live in South Africa, told me about the restaurant.  She said that before i left Africa i had to eat there.  For the first time that day i came alive.  It was something i recognized, not to mention it had been 9 1/2 hours since my last meal.  I convinced them to stop the car and let me run in to get something.  (Erin, maybe it helped that i was starving and since it was in portuguese i don't know what i ordered, but it was the best tasting food i'd had since getting here.)  With some food in my belly, my day started to take a serious turn for the better.  Shortly after that, we stopped by a supermarket (a place to buy things that can't be bought at the non-super-market, like beans in a can)  While inside, gazing at all the glorious food, Clemencia walks over to me, hands me her cell phone and says, "it's choo muhter."  It wasn't my mother, it was my grandma, which was just as comforting.  That phone call (which included some mini hi's and i love you's from my younger sisters and a promise to write from the older of my two brothers -ahem!) was the first of two ingredients that were going to catalyst me out of the funk.  The others were watching me so i didn't sob like a baby this time but the call reconnected me with life outside myself.  Something about, "Hang in there", and "You'll be home before you know it" made me realize that my i wasn't here permanently, that this was once again an adventure and not a prison term.  For the first time since getting here i could actually see this place for what it was and is, no longer what i had perceived it as.  I was once again reminded that i had a family who loved me.  When we got back to the school, Clemencia uploaded our messages and i had two; a hilarious one from my sister, Becky, and one from my buddy, Dan.  Dan had included a quote from Albert Einstein, which, if it wasn't quite so long i would consider tatooing it on my body (i said 'consider', mom, i'm not saying 'definately would').  I'm not giving Mr. Einstein lip-service when i say that man was truly a genius.  That was the second ingredient.  God knew what i needed and sent it to me once again.  The Funk of Africa 2006 was over.  Its a little early in this venture to declare i won't need any more pick-me-ups between here and April but i'm seeing this place in a different light, and sometimes a different light is all you need.

 

"A human being is a part of the whole, called by us "Universe," a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security."  Albert Einstein. -Jessy, you're way ahead of the rest of us in escaping from this delusion. Now go hug Shoda for me.

 

 

And i gave Shoda a hug.