High-Fives for All

 I have always been a fan of a good high-five. Every sports team I was ever on growing up exchanged high-fives after each game regardless of the score. At BU, I worked at the Educational Resource Center, where High-Five Fridays were a way of life (everyone gave really enthusiastic greetings celebrating the last day of the work week). And then I worked at the Shopneck Boys and Girls Club in Brighton, Col. where high-fives were the standard form of affection between staff and members. Considering my history with high-fives, it is no surprise that one of the first things I taught my organization, Criancas Artistas Contra HIV e SIDA (CACHES), was the high-five.

When I first arrived at CACHES, the jovens (teenagers) started to give me hugs as a greeting and good-bye. I think they just assumed they would do the same with me as they do with Vivienne, the volunteer I am replacing. However, I was not so keen on this idea considering I just moved here and am starting to build relationships while Vivienne has been here for a year. Also my instincts from my experience at the Boys and Girls Club, threw up a red flag at such behavior. At the Boys and Girls Clubs we were always encouraged to give high-fives or the awkward one arm hug to avoid any accusations and potential law suits. While I do not think this is as much a concern in Mozambique, or rather a concern at all, I wasn’t quite ready to jump into the hugs myself.

On one of my first nights at CACHES when Fermino, one of the jovens, went in for a hug, I instead stuck out my hand offering a high-five. I didn’t snub him, but rather offered him a new cultural exchange. I was scared about how he would receive it, but he loved it. Now, we start every afternoon with a high-five and finish every evening with another. Sometimes he even goes for the high-ten. All of the other jovens have picked up on the high-five as well. While they continue to give Vivienne hugs, they know now to give me a high-five. I have started to teach some of the younger kids the high-five as well. Slowly they have started saying good-bye in this fashion as well. While I have seen the jovens exchange high-fives as well, I have not yet seen any kids do so, but I am sure it will come. I thought about translating it into Portuguese as we do it, “Alto Cinco,” but I think it would lose some of its appeal. All oft the jovens are working on learning English as well. In Mozambique, students start learning English in school in 8^th grade.

Already as I walk around Chicumbane, I hear criancas from their yard yelling “Mana Ca-leen.” I don’t always know who they are, but I am sure that I must have met them at CACHES. I wonder if it is only a matter of time before they are not only yelling a greeting, but then will also run up to give me a high-five. Fingers crossed, someday that will happen.I figure the high-five isn’t much, but at least I have started teaching them something in exchange for everything I have learned from them already. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?

          

Newbie in Town

I am definitely the newbie, or rather the new malugo (white person), in town. Here’s some of the highlights from my first few days at site. After I swore in as a PCV, I had a supervisor’s conference at VIP Hotel in Maputo where I met my supervisors, Sam and Louis. Sam is the director of Criancas Artistas Contra HIV e SIDA (CACHES) and Louis is my supervisor through the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation (EGPAF). I had met Sam when I came on my site visit to Chicumbane, but it was my first time meeting Louis. The conference was a great way for us to start to get to know each other and the organizations I will be working with.

After the conference, Sam and I got on a Peace Corps sponsored chapa with my friend Dan and his counterparts early Sunday morning headed to Gaza. Dan was headed to Fidel Castro, just on the other side of Xai-Xai, the district capital of Gaza. I was the first stop. By 9:00 a.m., I was in Chicumbane. Sam and one of the other activistas at CACHES, Nelio, helped me unload my trunk, box, suitcase, backpack and day pack. And off they went. Unlike most PCVs who were alone navigating the basics of their new site placement, I was lucky to have been here just a few weeks ago for my site visit. I already knew what my living situation would be like and at least a few people in the community. And in addition, I was extremely lucky to have Vivienne, the PCV I am replacing, to help me navigate settling in. She dove right into helping me unpack my things and setting up my house. She was also extremely generous offering me her Baygon (insecticide), electric stove, and a mattress pad to sleep on. I am currently living in the other house on her quintal (yard). Usually Nelio, an activista at CACHES and also her landlady’s grandson usually lives in this house. For the next two months, he moved back in with his family. When Vivienne goes back to America the first week in October, I will move into her house just 20 ft. away and Nelio will move back into his house.

My house for now is just two rooms made of and reeds and cement with a metal roof. My kitchen is one shelf holding my water filter and an electric stove I have yet to try. Next to the shelf are two basins (my dishwasher). I made a shelf with a large cardboard box and two chairs that holds all the books I received from the Peace Corps. Two metal chairs make up my living room. In the corner is a large tambor of water. One wall is covered in papel gigante with the Portuguese verb charts and vocab list I made. I add all the new vocab words I learn each day to the list. Nerdy, I know, but I got to learn somehow. In my bedroom, I have my mattress encased by my mosquito net, my trunk, my suitcase, and a metal chair that functions as a shelf. Vivienne helped me string a rope across one corner to function as a closet. I was able to hang up a few pictures and posters. It’s all very bare; simple, rather, but it’s just temporary.

On Monday, Vivienne and I took a 10-minute chapa ride into Xai-Xai to get groceries and a few things for my house. When we couldn’t carry any more, we made our way to a chapa back to Chicumbane. When I returned to my house, I was in the middle of organizing a few things, when I noticed there were a number of uninvited visitors in my house. I started to follow them and noticed there was an entire formiga (ant) colony along one of my walls. We’re talking thousands… well, at least, hundreds. That part of the wall looked like it was moving. I took out my can of Baygon (recently bought on my shopping spree) and started to spray. I initiated my first formiga massacre. It wasn’t pretty, but it was necessary. I thought to myself that I was pretty lucky if this was one of the toughest things I had to deal with on my first days at site. I had gotten text messages from some of my friends who hadn’t even moved into their houses yet because they were still doing repairs or the people living there hadn’t moved out yet. Eeek. I was pretty lucky.

That afternoon I went to Criancas Artistas Contra HIV e SIDA (CACHES) with my Portuguese-English dictionary and notebook in my bag. When I arrived, some of the kids were doing an art project with Sam. The kids had to draw a house with two trees. I jumped in and started drawing my own. Sam introduced me to the kids at the table and then I started asking them questions. One of the kids asked how old I was. I asked him what he thought. His response was 42. Close. I just laughed.

I have learned in Mozambique that the apresentacao (formal introduction) is really important. When most of the kids had arrived, Sam gathered them all and we went to the meeting area outside. All the kids sat down and Sam introduced me. He said a few words and then put me on the spot to say something. Unprepared, I fumbled along explaining that I was volunteer from America with Corpo do Paz like Mana Vivienne and how I hoped they would be patient with me as I work on improving my Portuguese and eventually learn Changana, the local language. After, each kid came down and introduced him or herself to me shaking my hand. We then formed a circle to play a game to help us conhecer (get to know each other). Ideally, this was a great idea, but unfortunately CACHES didn’t have any energy that day and it was getting dark, which made it hard for me to see their faces and put a name with a face. The game was very similar to games I have played at camp in the states. One person is in the middle and says, “Chefe cadei” and everyone around the circle says, “Cadou chefe.” This then repeats three times before they are supposed to call on someone else to take their spot. For example, “Chefe chama Colleen. Colleen chama Sam.” Then Sam would take over, but if for some reason Sam was not there or I messed up, then I would basically be shunned out of the circle. As you can imagine, this happened to me almost immediately. Welcome to CACHES.  No, but seriously, it was a lot of fun. And next time we play that game I will be ready. At 18:00h, all the kids go home for the night, but before they leave they finish with a prayer. Two little girls each said a prayer in Portuguese. In their prayer, they said thank you for Mana Vivienna and wished her safe travels back home (after we reassured them she wasn’t leaving for another two months) and a thank you for their new volunteer, Mana Colleen.

Tuesday morning I woke up at 5:45h to go for a run. While all the roads in Chicumbane are sand, I headed to the main road which is a little more compact. I ran 15 minutes out and then turned around. I was about halfway back when I passed a little old man in shorts, flip flops and a fleece vest. We exchanged “Bom dia” and then as I passed him, I realized that he had picked his pace up to a jog. He was then at my side explaining how he could run in flip flops. We talked briefly while running and before I knew it I had a running buddy. I thought that maybe I would have some school children follow me, but I was not expecting this older gentleman. We made small talk while we ran talking about how hard it is to run in flip flops, he asked if I was cold because I was just in a t-shirt, what was I doing in Chicumbane and he told me how he was on his way to the Catholic church. Just before the central market area, we slowed down to a walk. I then went to Senor Chova (the bread guy I meant when I was here for my site visit) to buy some bread. This was the first time I saw him since I moved to Chicumbane, but he remembered me from before. Not too many blonde haired blue-eyed women pass through these parts. I told him how I would be living here and he seemed pretty excited about it. My running buddy stood off to the side still catching his breath. I said good-bye to Senor Chova and to my running buddy as he walked off to church and I headed home. The next morning I saw my friend outside his house (he lives along the main road), but he must have been tired from the other day because he just gave a big wave and a hearty, “Bom dia.”

At 9:00h, Sam, Nelio and another activista, Joaune, picked me up at my house so we could go meet the chefe of the neighborhood and the local authority for a formal apresentacao. Turns out they were both not there, but we left the letter I had from the Peace Corps and will stop by again some other time. They took the liberty to have a little fun with the apresentacao introducing me to various landmarks along the way. I was introduced to the cemetery, primary school, secondary school, corn fields, soccer fields, and so on. I was much obliged to meet them all. On Wednesday, we continued our attempt at apresentacao and went to the police station and the chefe of Chicumbane, but again, no one was there.

Thursday was my first day working with my second organization, the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatrics AIDS Foundation (EGPAF) at the Rural Hospital of Chicumbane. I showed up at the hospital at 8:00h to meet Louis. I just waited outside by the flagpole observing all the comings and goings of the hospital until he arrived. The hospital is made up of a few large cement buildings and then several small circular cement pods called portas. When Louis arrived, he said we would go around to do a formal  “Apresentacao,” but he wanted to wait until Vivienne was with us to introduce me as her substitute. When Vivienne arrived just after 9:00h we started making the rounds. We went to the director of the hospital, all of the nurses, the three doctors and other staff. Throughout our travels, we interrupted several patient visits. Patient privacy doesn’t exactly exist in Mozambique and apparently my apresentacao was priority, which made me feel really uncomfortable. After about two hours of Louis saying the same spiel and me introducing myself over 30 times, my apresentacao at the hospital was complete. I tried to scribble down names in my notebook along with their titles, but I know it will take me a while to remember everyone’s names. One of the student nurses I meant along the way said she liked my name so much someday she would name her daughter Colleen, or “Ca-leen” as most Mozambicans pronounce it. I am excited to start at the hospital, but I know there is SOOO much I have to learn. Not only do I have to learn people’s names and all their titles, but how patient care and the whole health care system works in Mozambique. In addition, there are the countless Portuguese vocabulary words I have yet to learn, as well as what exactly my role will be working there.

As I walked down the sandy road to the hospital that morning, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. When I was little, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with health care. Absolutely nothing. My mom is a physical therapist and my dad is an orthotist prothetist, my grandmother was a nurse, my aunt is a nurse, my uncle is an orthopedic surgeon, my sister wants to be a doctor and about a dozen of my cousins have either been to medical school, are in medical school or are working in health care. I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted to be a journalist. But over the years this has all changed. I am now studying social work and a Peace Corps HEALTH volunteer. And here I was walking up to a hospital to work. Not just any hospital, but a hospital in AFRICA. 

Funny how sometimes life takes you where you least expect it to. 

PCV Status

Almost three years of waiting, I was finally sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer last Tuesday. As cheesey as it is, it really was a childhood dream come true. So far throughout the process, reality has far exceeded any expectations I had beforehand.  I had never really thought about the swearing process, but it was a formal ceremony at a U.S. diplomat’s house in Maputo across from the ocean. All of the Peace Corps staff, a few current volunteers and RPCVs, representatives from our organizations and some governmental officials were all in attendance. The ceremony was in the backyard around the pool. We were in our own little bubble surrounded by the bustling city of Maputo. The hum of a jackhammer from a neighboring concrete building made it difficult to hear the speakers but was also a reminder of the developing state of Mozambique. Our work lies outside the bubble in the communities we are moving to for the next two years.

 The ceremony started on time and was extremely brief by Mozambican standards—just under an hour. We were sworn in by the new U.S. Ambassador Douglas M. Griffiths. It was actually his first official duty in Mozambique because he was just sworn in himself a few days before. The ceremony had a rough start when we had to sing the national anthems of both Mozambique and America. We were told that we just had to start singing and everyone would follow along. False.  We were also told that we would be getting the words beforehand. Also false. Our first formal introduction to Mozambique was an embarrassing rendition of their anthem. We all knew the chorus, but the verses were less than spectacular. Not exactly culturally sensitive. When the representative from the Mozambican government spoke at the end of the ceremony, he remarked how hopefully in the next two years we can learn the lyrics. Eek. Not exactly the best first impression, but I guess our reputation can only better from here.

For future reference, here’s the lyrics:

Na memória de África e do Mundo

Pátria bela dos que ousaram lutar

Moçambique, o teu nome é liberdade

O Sol de Junho para sempre brilhará

Coro: (2x)

Moçambique nossa terra gloriosa

Pedra a pedra construindo um novo dia

Milhões de braços, uma só força

Oh pátria amada, vamos vencer

Povo unido do Rovuma ao Maputo

Colhe os frutos do combate pela paz

Cresce o sonho ondulando na bandeira

E vai lavrando na certeza do amanhã

Coro (2x)

Flores brotando do chão do teu suor

Pelos montes, pelos rios, pelo mar

Nós juramos por ti, oh Moçambique

Nenhum tirano nos irá escravizar

Coro (2x)

Linda, Dona Agueda, Adela and I at the Swearing In Ceremony. Dona Agueda was our homestay coordinator in Namaacha and helped us get all our capalana outfits made for the day!

Alden, Adela and I with the Peace Corps Mozambique Country Director Carl Swartz.

Kyle, Adela, Lauren, Alden and me. PCV Status!!

I

10 Weeks in Photos

I know it is not a lot, but finally I have enough Internet to upload some photos--thanks to the free Internet at Hotel VIP in Maputo, Moz. Woot Woot! Finally, you can see a little bit of what I have been trying to describe in my posts. More photos to come in future posts! 

Our first day in Mozambique. The view from the Peace Corps office in Maputo, Moz. 

"This is AFRICA!" Taylor and I on our field trip to the traditional doctor in Namaacha.

Our language class: Sabrina, Anna and I with our Portuguese professor Parruque.  

The end result of a successful Sunday of washing clothes. This weekly chore usually takes about two hours, but I got a lot faster after 10 weeks of practice. Although, my sister could never believe how long it took me.

Casa de banho. Any questions?

Sunrise over Namaacha.

Anna's Mae, Anna and I at our cooking day outside my house. We learned how to make traditional Mozambican dishes and then we taught them how to make banana bread and guacamole!

Killing our first chicken. Probably the first and last.

After the Act. Before we killed it, Sabrina said a prayer for the chicken thanking him for his life. 

The end result after spending all morning cooking. What a feast it was!

Sabrina's little brother enjoying our feast. Yep, that's a chicken foot.

Our first permagarden in Namaacha  at Emily's house. We spent two days learning how to make a permagarden, a gardening technique used to help PLWHA get the nutrition they need. During one of the last lunches I had with my mae, she said that the lettuce in our salad was from the machamba at Emily's house.

My mae and I on Mozambique's Dia de Independencia, June 25th. She is a big supporter of Frelimo, the biggest political party in Mozambique. 

My mae, the U.S. Ambassador Ms. Leslie Rowe and I outside our house. She came to visit all of us in Namaacha just before she finished her term here in Mozambique. 

Alexis and I on  our site visit teaching the kids limbo at  CACHES--Criancas Artistas Contra HIV e SIDA--my future organization in Chicumbane.  Since we didn't have the music, we just had the kids sing a song. 

Sam, my counterpart; some of the teenagers; Alexis; and I outside CACHES. We had just finished playing games with all the kids on our site visit. 

Vivienne, the PCV I am replacing; Alexis and I at Xai-Xai Beach. The first of many more beach days to come!

Rosa and I serving rice and couvre for lunch at Precioso Sangue, the orphanage in Namaacha.

My mae getting ready to take a stab at the one of seven pinatas we made for our host families at our festa de despedida our last Saturday in Namaacha. They went crazy over the candy!

Meet MOZ 18. All 28 Community Health Volunteers with Claudia, our training manager, sporting our new capalanas from our families at the festa de despedida.