The most wonderful time of year...

MANGO SEASON. That’s right. Mango season is in full swing and it is amazing. Well, if you like mangoes that is. I have yet to meet a Mozambican who doesn’t like mangoes. But, they will usually tell me why one type of mango is superior to another. And just as the song goes, “this is the wonderful time of year…” I can give you 10 reasons why yes, mango season is the best time of year.

10.  You floss more. Yes, it can be annoying with all those mango fibers, but your pearly whites will thank you later on.  The dreaded chore becomes absolutely necessary daily and you find yourself flossing once, even twice a day depending on how many mangoes you can eat.

9. There are several different kinds of mangoes. Who knew? The fat green ones, the red ones, the orange slender ones and I have yet to try the purple ones—they aren’t ripe yet. I am sure they have more scientific names, but I have yet to learn them. Everyone has their preference, what’s yours?

8. I have found a new hobby trying to knock them down out of trees or using a large pole to knock them down. It is so satisfying when you hit it down on the first try. But, trust me, it takes practice.

7. Anytime you are hungry you can literally just walk outside and pick a mango off a tree. How’s that when you have a snack attack?

6. Neighbors will stop you on your way to work and tell you to take a mango from the pile they have collected. Or children will yell, “Mana Cao” and then throw a mango down to you from where they are perched in the tree. You take one and thank them kindly, but they insist. “Mais, mais.” More. More. There is an abundance of mangoes.

5. You can spend an entire afternoon filling basins with mangoes. And then just sit around with friends eating them. It doesn’t get much better than that.

The mangoes Nelio and I collected one afternoon.

Nelio with our prize mangoes!

4. Mango crisp. Think apple crisp, but sweeter and gooier.

3. Mango salsa. Add mangoes, sugar, tomatoes, onions, limes, salt and pepper. Grab some crackers or make your own tortilla chips. I think I have made this seven times already in the last four weeks. It is just the perfect combination of sweet and salty, nutritious and delicious. 

2.     You can practice English with conversations like:

Me: How was your day today?

Beto: It was good.

Me: What did you do?

Beto: I listened to music and ate mangoes.

Me: How many mangoes did you eat today?

Beto: Eleven.

You don’t hear that very often in the states.

And the number one reason why mango season is the most wonderful time of year: As the expression goes around here, “No one goes hungry during mango season.”

Now, there are a few things to keep in mind as you dive into the splendor of the season. Do be careful of eating too many. It is possible and they will cause some unfortunate GI issues. Mangoes tend to litter the ground—the peels, the pits, the fallen fruit. They are all over. Sometimes if you step on one it can be as slippery as a banana peel and you’ll find yourself flat out. And you have to be careful sleeping under a mango tree either in a hammock or on a straw mat because they can easily fall on your head. Eek. At the beginning of mango season when just the first few trees are ripe, you have to be careful of people who are just collecting mangoes to sell in Maputo. When I was away one weekend, someone came and took pretty much all the mangoes off one of my trees. Luckily, I am able to enjoy the mangoes from the three other trees in my yard, but I was pretty baffled when I came home and there were just a few left scattered on the tree. My neighbor tried to lead a small investigation, but was inconclusive. I had heard how amazing mango season is, but had never experienced it before this year. Now that we are in the thick of it, I can fully understand the hype. I hope to freeze mangoes to keep the season alive a little longer. And after mango season we dive into pineapple season. And then before you know it, it will be avocado season again. And you know what that means…GUACAMOLE! But let's not rush it. For now, I will continue to enjoy my mangoes.

 

World AIDS Day

For many, World AIDS Day is a once-a-year reminder of the global effect AIDS has on people around the world. Some can go day-to-day not having to give much thought to the virus that affects so many. But, on December 1, the world stops to remember and raise awareness. In the past I honored World AIDS Day by: attending presentations, candlelight vigils and movie screenings to recognize the effect AIDS has had on so many people who I had never met. While I knew AIDS existed in the states I still felt removed from the topic. However World AIDS Day stood as a call to attention and a way to raise awareness for people who may not have otherwise known about the effects of the infection.

This year was a little different. I am surrounded by the virus and people affected by it. It is something I work with every day. Here in Mozambique, World AIDS Day is not just the one day where people stop to think about HIV, but rather an occasion to recognize the fight that continues. In the past, CACHES has had all-day events with different cultural groups presenting, lunch and hospital staff present to do HIV tests. However, this year, CACHES lacks funding so we planned something a little different. We had several brainstorming meetings and finally the activistas decided that we would do an exercises in the morning with the criancas at the CACHES, then a march through Chicumbane and end with a soccer game and palestra for the jovens of Chicumbane. We also decided that we would write a pedido to the hospital, a letter requesting condoms to distribute. CACHES already had several magazines and brochures in Changana and Portuguese that we could distribute as well.

During the week leading up to the event, we wrote the pedido to the hospital. And then we also wrote up a flyer outlining the events of the day. The activistas made glue and put the flyers up around Chicumbane a few days beforehand.

I brought the pedido to the hospital and they approved the request. On Friday, when I went to the hospital, I picked up the condoms from Enfermeiro Ricardo. He originally gave me 200. When my supervisor from EGPAF, Louis, saw that he only gave me 200, he said that I needed more so he asked Ricardo to get some more. This led to a bit of a problem because then we had to go talk to the Enfermeira Chefe (Boss) who then gave me a talking to on how could we plan an event about health without including a representative from the health field. She wanted to know who would be giving all of the statistics about why it is so important to get tested in Gaza. She was insistent that a technician from the hospital had to be present in order to give more information than any activista could give. She then asked me to leave the room while she spoke with Enfermeiro Ricardo. I am not sure what they continued to talk about, but after about 15 minutes, Ricardo came out and together we went to get 800 more condoms and then he said that the Director of CACHES would have to come down to the hospital to speak with him. I called Sam and he came down that morning. When he arrived, we spoke with Enfermeiro Ricardo, who explained that a technician from the hospital would go to CACHES in the morning to help with the event. Sam and I both apologized for the confusion and the conversation ended with all of us on the same page. Estamos juntos.

The schedule that the activistas had made for the day said it would start at 6 am. Knowing better after being here in Mozambique for six months, I showed up at 7 am and they were still just kicking around a soccer ball. I joined in and then around 7:30 am we started with the first thing on the agenda: exercises. I led the group for about 30 minutes doing a variety of exercises mostly from my P90x videos. We did lunges, squats, push-ups and sit-ups all separated with an interval of jumping jacks or jumping rope. And then Calvino took over leading a few exercises for another 30 minutes or so. And after the whole discussion at the hospital the day before about needing a technician, insisting on having a technician, no one showed up. And so it goes.

At about 8:30 am, we assembled the group distributing condoms and magazines to the kids and jovens who would participate in the march. We also took down some of the banners inside CACHES to carry as we marched. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about some of the really young kids carrying boxes of condoms to distribute. But, when I asked them if they knew what they were, they responded “proteccao.” Bom. It’s a good start. And then, I wondered if HIV is so widespread, is it ever too early to start prevention? We set out on our march, through Chicumbane walking down Avenida de Zongone, down to the market area, on to the hospital and then to the soccer field. As we walked the kids sang about HIV prevention and distributed materials to people we passed. They passed out just the magazines to kids, but condoms and magazines to adults. People joined in walking with us, and all welcomed the materials.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, I had to leave when we reached the soccer field because I had to go to the wedding of one of my colleagues from the hospital. I heard later from the activistas that the soccer game and palestra went really well. They said they had so many jovens that they had to set up two soccer games. They distributed 500 condoms.

The wedding was a lot of fun as well. It was really neat to see how they transformed the yard into a banquet hall, setting up tarps with estocas (big posts) and several tables with decorated chairs along with buffet tables. There were probably about 200 people in attendance. And I know all the neighbors and family had been preparing for days. They had so much food: xima, rice, salad, potato salad, cucumber salad, cabbage and an array of meat: cow, pork and chicken. When I left with my colleague, Tininha, that morning I was under the impression that we would be going to the registry and the church ceremony part, but as it turned out we just went to the party. It was fun to spend time with my colleagues from the hospital outside of work. I didn’t recognize some of them because they were out of their hospital uniforms and all dressed up for the occasion. We enjoyed the afternoon eating, drinking, talking and dancing. And one of my favorite parts of the wedding is how they do the gifts. Instead of just setting gifts on a table in the corner, like we do in the United States, each person has to present their gift to the couple singing and dancing. I joined my collegues from the hospital in their presentation. It was a joyous way to spend World AIDS Day when my collegues work so closely with the disease and those affected by it every day. I traveled home with Tininha around 7 pm. On Monday morning, when I asked Louis how the rest of the party went, he said he left shortly after us because the beer had run out. And then he said, “In Mozambique, when the beer runs out, the party ends.” I said that isn’t just in Mozambique, but usually the case in the United States as well.

Thanksgiving in Mozambique

I have enough Christmas socks to last me the month of December. And I love sending out snail mail valentines to my friends across the country. And who doesn’t love mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole and pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving? When I was little, I always used to ask for a holiday sweater. Not just a holiday sweater for Christmas, but I wanted one that had all the holidays—Thanksgiving, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, Fourth of July-- on it so I could just wear that sweater for every holiday. Yeah, I was THAT cool. Well, I never got the sweater. I don’t know if something like that even exists, but last Christmas my mom did give me a set of pins. Each one decorated for each holiday: a heart for Valentine’s Day, a turkey for Thanksgiving, Frankenstein for Halloween, a snowman for Christmas, etc. And, yes, they made it to Mozambique.

Yesterday, I proudly wore my turkey pin as I introduced the criancas at CACHES about Thanksgiving, Dia de Acao de Gracas. I did a brief lesson on Thanksgiving explaining how it was the first meal between the pilgrims (peregrinos) and Native Americans dating back to Plymouth 1621. I then explained how it is now celebrated the fourth Thursday of November by eating a large meal with family and friends. I translated some of the foods into English including turkey, potatoes, corn and stuffing. We then made turkey hats.

After, I explained to the kids how this day is an opportunity to take a step back and be thankful for all the things in our lives. We then, wrote out something we wanted to say “thank you” or “kanimambo” for. The kids generated a list including: life, family, friends, CACHES, health, security, religion, avocados and food. They each wrote out one thing they were thankful for and then painted a turkey. We used finger-paints I received in a care package. They loved it! A special thank you goes out to Donna for supplying the paints! Some of the kids hung up their pictures in the art gallery that already exists on walls of CACHES. And everyone continued to wear their turkey hats the rest of the night.

 

As for my turkey hat, I will wear it today when I go to my friends Mike and Marisa’s house to have our own Thanksgiving celebration. There are about 10 PCVs who will get together today to do some cooking and then we will travel to Guija tomorrow to celebrate with some more PCVs. Just like Thanksgiving in the states, there will be cooking, eating, drinking and lots of fun amongst our new PCV family abroad.

I want to take a moment, in thanksgiving, to say “thank you” or “kanimambo” for all of the blessings in my life. I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have the education and upbringing I had. Without this education, I wouldn’t be able to dedicate these two years of my life to the work I am doing. Thank you also to my new PCV family here in Mozambique. We may have become family by default, but over the next two years our bonds will continue to grow as we lean on each other. Thank you to Peace Corps for giving me the opportunity to embark on this adventure. And Kanimambo to CACHES, the Rural Hospital of Chicumbane and the community here in Bairro 1 of Chicumbane. Thank you for being patient, understanding and so warm throughout my first few months here. I am so excited about working and living alongside all of you for the next two years.

And while I may be thousands of miles away from my family and friends, to you, I want to say “KANIMAMBO!”  I am constantly reminded of how much you have shaped and continue to be a part of my life. While we may not be able to be together today or for the foreseeable future, I have all your emails, care packages, and messages to keep me going. Keep ‘em coming! Thank you for your endless love and support. I know I wouldn’t be here without it.

So wherever you are this Thanksgiving, take a moment to say, “Kanimambo.” And eat an extra helping of pumpkin pie for me!  J

Terra de Boa Gente

First three months at site. Check. The end of the first three months also marks the end of our travel restriction. For the first three months, we are not allowed to leave our province. So for me, I couldn't travel outside of Gaza. So to mark the end of this restriction, my friend Alden, a fellow Gazan, and I took a trip to Inhambane, "Terra de Boa Gente" (Land of Good People), the province north of Gaza.  First, we visited Adela in Inhambane City and then the three of us went to visit our friend Lisa in Vilankulos. It was absolutely beautiful. But, you don't need me to tell you that, check out the pictures below.

The view from the pier at Inhambane City looking at Maxixe.

Sunrise at Vilankulos

Sunrise

Sunrise on the beach in front of Lisa's house in Vil. We made friends with some of the local dogs who were up early as well. 

Our view from lunch at in Vilankulos

Adela, Alden and me in Vil!

Lisa, Adela and me in Vil!

Vilankulos

The Catch of the Day down on the beach in Vilankulos.

The view of the islands off the coast of Vilankulos. You can take a boat to visit them and then spend the day out there, but unfortunately this wasn't in our budget as Peace Corps Volunteers.

Tofo, Inhambane 

Tofinho, Inhambane

Sunset over the bay in Inhambane City.

Better yet, come see for yourself! Before I left the United States, I know a lot of you said you were interested in taking a trip to the 'bique. Well, consider yourself invited. Now accepting reservations from now until August 2014. Just send me an email with potential dates and we will work out the details from there.

Dia das Bruxas

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays in the United States. Candy. Costumes. What's not to like? I decided to introduce the criancas in Chicumbane to a little Halloween fun. When I mentioned what I wanted to do for the holiday to the joven activistas at CACHES, they all called it Dia das Bruxas, Day of the Witches. It is not celebrated in Mozambique, but they seemed to be a little familiar with the holiday. I took this opportunity to introduce them to some Halloween traditions and history.  

I started celebrating Halloween with the Saturday crew of kids who come to color at my house. We colored jack-o-lanterns together. And then on Halloween, I organized a few activities to do with the criancas at CACHES. My friend Queshia, who lives just 10 minutes away in Xai-Xai, came to Chicumbane to help out as well. She, too, is a HUGE fan of Halloween. We had everyone make masks, learn some Halloween vocabulary in English and Portuguese, sing "Five Little Pumpkins" in English, guess the number of candies in a jar and bob for apples (after, I realized that may not have been the most sanitary activity for a HEALTH volunteer to do...oops) . As they left to go home that night, I stood at the door with some candy and had each one say "trick-or-treat", followed by a "Kanimambo" ("Thank you" in Changana, the local language).

The next day, when Calvino walked me home, I saw something on my veranda. Not knowing what it was, I asked Calvino to walk up to my house with me. When we got there, we realized it was a JACK-O-LANTERN. Nelio, my neighbor and activista, had taken a papaya and carved it out and placed a candle inside. I couldn't have been more surprised! Halloween Success. I know I am a few days late in getting this out there, but Happy Halloween. 

The Saturday morning coloring crew after they drew jack-o-lanterns.

Group shot of everyone after they made their masks.

Junior singing "Five Little Pumpkins" for everyone in English. 

Yolanda and Maik after they won the candy estimation contest. 

Bobbing for apples outside CACHES.

Queshia and I with our list of Halloween vocabulary words in English and Portuguese.

Nelio and I with his work-of-art! 

Coveiros

This past Tuesday morning I got a text message from Dona Rachel, my empregada, that her brother had died. She usually comes to my house every Tuesday to get water, wash clothes and mop the inside of my house.  In the text she didn’t say anything about not coming, but I immediately texted her back “Meus Sentimentos” and not to worry about working that day. I called her later to give my regards. Luckily, I had learned the last time I heard of someone passing that “Desculpe” or “I’m sorry” doesn’t exactly translate like it does in English. I only had to make that mistake once to learn that lesson. People do not use “I’m sorry” to console someone when they hear of a loved one dying. In Portuguese, when someone says, “Desculpe” it directly means that they are apologizing for something that is their fault. When I talked to Dona Rachel on the phone, she said the funeral would be the next day, but she would let me know where and when. I figured that was her way of saying “you will be there.” The next morning, I got a text that the funeral would be at 14h here in Chicumbane. She didn’t say where in Chicumbane.  That morning when Calvino stopped by, I asked him where funerals generally commence. He said they usually start at the family’s house and then everyone walks down to the cemetery together before returning to the house following the burial. I was a little nervous about what to expect so I texted Anne, one of my PCV friends, who is at the end of her service and is known for going to a number of funerals in her community. “What do I wear? And if they say it starts at 14h, does that mean it will actually start then?” She responded to wear a capalana (a piece of fabric that all the women typically wear tied around their waists), a shirt that covers my shoulder and a head scarf. And that unlike most other things in Mozambique, funerals generally do start on time.

We had learned a little about funerals and the way Mozambicans handle grief and loss in training, but this would be my first time experiencing it firsthand. But, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be my last.

Just before 14h, I wrapped a capalana around my waist, which I recently learned in Changana is called anvulu, and headed over to Dona Rachel’s house. (I recently started Portuguese and Changana tutoring with a teacher from the primary school nearby.) When I arrived at Dona Rachel’s house, there were a number of women sitting on esteiras (straw mats) laid out in the yard. I thought that maybe I was late so I tried to discretely sit down with the others already seated. Dona Rachel saw me (I am kind of hard to miss, I guess) and brought me to the back of the yard where she told me to sit in a chair with some other women. The mother of one of the boys who goes to CACHES every day was sitting there and I had actually just met her the other day, so we started talking. Mid-conversation, she leaned over and told me that my capalana was on inside out. Who knew there was a front side and back side to a capalana? Since I had the bright idea to just wear bike shorts under my capalana—I thought that would be the coolest thing on such a hot day—I snuck into the latrine to rearrange my capalana. Phew, glad she helped me on that one.

Around 15h, a truck pulled into the yard with a coffin and a lot of people in the bed of it. Everyone stood up from the esteiras at this point and we all processed some on foot and some in cars to the cemetery. At the cemetery, we all gathered around the plot. I would say it was about 100-150 people in attendance. A representative from the church said a few words and then there were several songs. The whole ceremony was in Changana. For the burial, about six men carried the wooden coffin into the hole that was already dug. Some of them even entered into the hole as well. Then everyone gathered could walk up and scoop dirt over the grave. Once the site was covered, family and friends put plant stems into the dirt on top. Then, family and friends were invited to sprinkle water over the grave. It was a pretty emotional service. I even caught myself almost crying and I had never even met Dona Rachel’s brother. But, I think what got me was more the greater significance behind the funeral. I didn’t know how he died or how old he was. Did he have kids? A wife? Was he sick for a while? Was it unexpected? I didn’t think it would have been polite or very culturally sensitive to ask all the questions I wanted to. I could assume that it was HIV/AIDS, but I didn’t want to make assumptions. It wasn’t something people were exactly talking about either. What struck me most was how the whole community was there to pay their respects even if they hadn’t known him. The ceremony was nothing new. They had attended funerals like this one in the past and there would be more in the future.

Following the burial, we all processed back to the house where there were two women set up at the entrance of the yard with basins to wash hands. It is customary after a burial for everyone to then wash their hands back at the house. Then people either left or sat down on the esteiras again to have a meal together. I sat down on the edge of an esteira, but was quickly summoned by some of my neighbors to go sit by them. I moved over. They were then able to translate into Portuguese for me what was going on when the church representatives said a few words before passing around a plate to collect money for the family. It is customary for people to chip in 5 to 10 mets to help the family cover the cost of the funeral. Then, everyone was passed out a plate and the family served rice with either beans, couve (cooked greens) or chicken caril (stew). Unlike funerals in the states where usually the family is waited upon by friends and neighbors, here in Mozambique, the family was responsible for serving lunch to everyone in attendance. After eating, it was time for everyone to go home. My neighbor Dona Orlinda waited for me to walk home together. On the way home, she had one of the neighbor boys who was up a tree collecting mangoes, throw one down for me.

That night at CACHES, Professor Mario, a teacher who comes to do music with the kids, asked me what I thought of the funeral. He had also been in attendance. He then told me how I should have been right up in the front so I could have seen what was going on. I said I was fine where I was, a couple rows back, because I was with one of my neighbors. We then got into a discussion about the differences between funerals in the United States and Mozambique. Calvino, one of the jovens, popped into the conversation and explained how in the states we have coveiros at cemeteries. Coveiros? I wasn’t familiar with the vocab. But, Calvino explained how coveiros were the ones who hang out in cemeteries and dig graves, but here in Mozambique, they do it all themselves. I had to consult my dictionary to understand exactly what he was talking about. Coveiros=Gravediggers. Got it. After Professor Mario left, I then drilled Calvino with all the questions I had been dying to ask someone. He is already used to my way of asking 20 questions at a time. Eek. So it was no surprise to him, when I asked him if I could ask him a few questions. In the end, he learned from it as well because we continued our conversation from earlier discussing the differences between American and Mozambican funerals. I was just working on Peace Corps Goals #2 and #3: To teach host country nationals about American culture and to teach Americans about the culture of host country nationals. But more than just that, we were finding common ground between cultures that usually seem worlds apart.  

Two Months In

It has been forever since I last wrote a blog post. Or at least it feels like it. It has really just been a little over two weeks. But, it has been a busy couple of weeks. Since my last post a lot has happened. I went to Chibuto to visit my PCV friend Alden; Grupo Amizade, the group of jovens I work with, came in 3^rd place at the English Theatre Competition; I baked for about three days straight in preparation for Vivienne’s Despedida; we held Vivienne’s Despedida at CACHES, which was an epic water balloon/water gun extravaganza; I went to Xai-Xai Beach; learned to pickle beets; started Portuguese and Changana tutoring; moved into my new house and went to Chidenguele. Yeah, I guess you could say things are in full gear here in Chicumbane. I am finally on my own at site and really getting a feel for what it is like to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. I am so grateful for all of the preparation I had in training in Namaacha and for the past two months with Vivienne here, but I am definitely ready to “spread my wings” if you will.

I spent the last few weeks helping Vivienne prepare for her Despedida, but she started preparing months ago. Despedidas here are the customary thing to do when someone is leaving. We all had a despedida when we left our host families in Namaacha. Despedidas typically imply a lot of food, drinking and dancing. Vivienne’s Despedida was not your typical despedida. The despedida was held at CACHES with all the kids, she wanted to do things a little differently. She bought about 40 water guns along with hundreds of water balloons and then we made six piñatas and countless baked goods. It was pretty epic if you ask me. We started baking days in advance. The Sunday before the Despedida, we made 300+ donuts with a recipe from Plautilia, my host sister in Namaacha. I called her just after making them and she was so proud. The next day, I made no bake cookies and brownies that I turned into a whoopee pie type cake with peanut butter frosting in an attempt to disguise the burnt outside from baking in my pot-inside-pot-with-sand oven. I am still getting the hang of this whole pot oven thing. And then I made rice krispie treats and popcorn. The days leading up to the Despedida were spent not only baking, but also making piñatas. Vivienne, Nelio and I made two huge piñatas. We used punching balloons Vivienne had. And then that Monday before the Despedida, we brought basins, flour, water and balloons to teach the kids how to make piñatas. They had a ball. The following day, we gave them paints and they all painted the piñatas. They had never heard of piñatas before. I guess you could say we were completing Peace Corps Goal #2, to teach host country nationals about American culture. I guess it could be argued more Mexican culture, but Americans have adopted it. On Wednesday, at the Despedida, the kids went crazy with all of the activities. We split them up into two teams to complete the various water balloon activities and then have the water gun fight. Vivienne and I were the captains of the two teams. When all was said and done, no one made it out dry. Following the water activities, we hung the piñata and chaos ensued. The kids went crazy. I was so nervous that someone was going to get hurt because all of the kids were so excited. We were set up in the outside concrete rotunda at CACHES so every time someone broke the piñata, the kids would dive onto the floor in an effort to grab as much candy as possible. Several water guns broke in the process and a few tears were shed, but luckily that was it. Following the piñatas, all the kids had popcorn and donuts before heading home. During the time Grupo Amizade meets, we brought out the rest of the baked goods. They read a letter to Vivienne and presented her with a t-shirt with a picture of the group and “We love you. Kanimambo” written on it. Kanimambo means “thank you” in Changana, the local dialect here. Vivienne then gave each of them a picture and we spent the rest of the time just hanging out. The next day at CACHES was pretty anticlimactic, but most of the kids had brought their water guns so they had a water gun fight of their own.

Baked goods galore at Vivienne's Despedida.

Leo is ready for the water gun fight!

Team "Wrong Turn". The activistas chose the name. Don't tell Vivienne, but I would say we won the water gun fight! J/K

ATTACK!!!

What else? BEETS! One of my neighbors, Dona Rachel, gave us two HUGE beets. By HUGE, I mean each one is the size of a person’s head. I always have to pass by her house on my way to the center of Chicumbane and she is usually always outside and gives me a big, “Ola Amiga.” One day she invited me to have a soda with her in her barraca (stand). One day she presented Vivienne and I with a HUGE beet from Manjacaze, another site in Gaza where my friends Linda and Evan are PCVs. When she gave us the first beet, I first boiled it, then tried to fry some of it before deciding to make a salad with shredded beet, shredded carrots and onion. Still having more beet left, I looked up how to pickle it. All it takes is just water, vinegar, sugar and garlic. A week later, we had a jar of pickled beets in our fridge. Who knew it was that easy? So when she presented me with another beet a week later, I was more than excited to pickle it. The other day, I brought over a jar of pickled beets for her to try. She opened the jar and took a big sip. I explained that it was not a drink, but rather the beet she gave me and she should eat with salad, by itself or really however she wanted. She said next time she goes to Manjacaze, she will bring back another beet. Pickling beets might just be a new hobby of mine.

And most recently I have spent the last week moving and rearranging my new house. Woot! Woot! It has been pretty excited because aside from three months in Boston University’s South Campus housing, I have never lived on my own. Vivienne left early Monday morning. Dona Rachel, our empregada, and Nelio, one of CACHES activistas, came to see her off. After she left in the chapa, Dona Rachel offered to help me move in. Mind you, this was just before 5:00 a.m. I thanked her kindly, but figured I would go back to sleep for an hour. But, after she left, I changed my mind and decided to just get the move over with. After all, I had three hours before I had to be at the hospital. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a weeklong project. That morning I moved everything into my new house. I then spent the next four days cleaning out and rearranging everything. Since this house has been inhabited by Peace Corps Volunteers for at least the last four years (maybe more), it has accumulated a fair amount of stuff. I found everything from Oregano spices from 2008 to expired medicine from Peace Corps, from an entire bookcase of books (before Kindles, PCVs just had paperbacks) to travel size chopsticks. My empregada Dona Rachel was instrumental in helping me clean out some of the surprises we discovered in our cleaning together. In the end, she made out pretty well because I gave her a box of things to take home. I also gave a box to Nelio and then made a box for other PCVs to go through. Needless to say, a week later, I think I have gone through every corner of my new house. I definitely made out pretty well in the end though, inheriting countless kitchen supplies, arts and crafts supplies, books, spices, sheets and furniture. So much for having the typical PCV experience starting from scratch on my own, but I am okay with that. There will be enough challenges down the road. So I am just going to be extremely thankful for how fortunate I have been over the past few months settling into Chicumbane. 

A big thank you goes out to Mana Vivienne for basically supplying me with a fully furnished house. I truly feel spoiled. I have to recognize how lucky I am and remember these blessings to help me through the tougher times ahead--because I know they are coming. Thank you to Vivienne for also being so patient with me as I learned the lay of the land here in Chicumbane. She was not just the PCV I replaced, but a friend and mentor. I will always remember my first two months with Mana Vivienne. And like a kid taking off the training wheels, I am now starting to ride the two-wheeler. There will be bumps and bruises, but I am grateful for the support network I have built over the past two months.

A Day in the Life...in Chicumbane

 My house for the past seven weeks is in the center. And on the right is the house I will move into in one week. I am really excited about the patio!

After we spent the night without energy, Calvino and some neighbors climbed on the roof of my future house (Vivienne’s house now) and rewired the electricity until it was working again.

One of the dogs I am inheriting. Meet Magorducha.

The best birthday present in Moz—a hammock! Vivienne and Calvino are enjoying a relaxing morning in the hammock. In order to hang it, we used rope and then some locks to work as carabiners.

Meet Mel. My other inherited pup!

Calvino and Beto giving a lesson on “Regras de Teatro” during our troca with Macia at CACHES.

Grupo Amizade. 

All of the activistas at CACHES belong to this theatre group. This group will represent Chicumbane at the Peace Corps English Theatre Competition this Saturday. I will continue to work with them over the next two years.

 The JUNTOS group from Macia performing a dance at the troca we had a few weeks ago. This group has performed this dance on television here in Mozambique.

Nelio and I playing Produce Masters with the kids at CACHES. We spent the week teaching the kids about Nutrition so I felt Produce Masters was the most appropriate game to teach them. Shout out to FYSOP!

On my birthday, Grupo Amizade performed a skit re-enacting my past seven weeks here in Chicumbane. See The Baptismo for more details.

Just after my birthday skit. Nelio as Vivienne; Vivienne; Joao as Sam, the CACHES director; Calvino as me and me.

 Bilene early one Sunday morning. Bilene is a beach just about an hour away from Chicumbane.