Settling.

Ola voces todos!!

I begrudgingly admit, Oscar Wilde was onto something when he wrote, “I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read.” I’ve been at site in Mapinhane a full week now, and flipping through the last couple dozen pages of my handwritten notes, it’s been one hell of a rollercoaster week! As I hinted at in my last post, when the Peace Corps van drove away, leaving me alone in my hut in Mapinhane, I was left with literally two duffel bags, a trunk, a taped up box, a good mattress and a desk.  Since then, I’ve used the last week to start collecting all the necessities for everyday life – no easy task when all you have are your own two feet and the kindness of strangers. Still, such things have proven to be worth a lot here – after all, strangers quickly turn into friends and with the vibrancy of the local grapevine, suddenly the whole village knows everything about the new “Mulungu” (white girl) in town. And apparently, I’m quite a strange Mulungu – I wear the traditional capulana while doing chores like every Mozambican woman, I (kinda) speak Portuguese, and I can wash my own clothes.  No one thinks that a Mulungu like me can cook, but in my defense, I haven’t really been given a fair shot at proving my worth, haha. Having bought and hitchhiked a gas stove home from the neighboring town only two days ago (which is a story by itself!), and still needing to buy propane, I still don’t have the ability to cook for myself. The consequence is that I’ve essentially been adopted by the Director of my school and his family in the meantime. Awesome, yes, but as much as I loved the homestay experience in Namaacha with my host family, one overbearing (yet wonderful) Mozambican host-mother is enough for anyone. There is only so many times you can be told that you’re cutting a tomato “wrong” or washing a dish “wrong” before you really just want to run your own house and ultimately your own life.  The day of my independence cannot come soon enough!

Yet, of course, all good things take time. And in general, time is viewed as indefinite, intangible, or perhaps as Captain Jack Sparrow would say, “more of a guideline than a rule” here in Moz. Patience is something I thought I had a lot of… and yet everyday I'm finding out how much more I can muster in order not to go crazy with frustration sometimes.  I don’t want my antsyness for independence to be misconstrued as a lack of gratitude however.  I am very much indebted to the unhesitating warmth and hospitality of the local Mapinhanian community. A prime and perhaps my favorite example?  Being welcomed into the circle of cheeky local criancas (children, rugrats, etc). Whether I start a game of tag with them, play futbol with a green mango, or just wave like a madwoman shrieking “Gye chile!” (good morning in Chitswa)  to them on my morning runs, I’m always met with eager smiles, giggles, and even a supportive, easy-to-please, good-humored posse.  I went to collect water at the local pump yesterday, a bucket in one hand with my capulana wrapped around my waist, and instantly, 10 little hands whisked away my bucket, brought it to the front of the queue, and pumped the water for me!  Then after watching me wrap my capulana into a head cushion, they all helped me pick up the 20lbs bucket of water and balance it firmly on my head.  I walked away to cheers of “Wow, Teacher! Wow!” and perhaps the biggest boost of confidence and belonging I’ve felt here yet. I’ll admit, I’m a softie for kids anyways, but I also think I just feel safer interacting with kids. Portuguese is as much their native tongue as it is mine, so when I mess up a conjugation they don’t look at me like I’m stupid. They’re quick to forget transgressions or mistakes. Overall, criancas just want to have fun. It makes for a generally easy crowd to start practicing and applying the cultural adaptations necessary for the next two years I’ll spend here.  Hanging out with the criancas a bit everyday reminds me to be patient and not worry so much about the daunting task of Integration. They remind you that on those tougher days, an enthusiastic grin goes a long way. J

And so, I find a lot of things to smile about! I have to! For one, I finally have been able to unpack my bags, and with a bit of creative jury-rigging to the soundtrack of Christmas carols (weird!) a few days ago, I’ve situated my hut into a very livable, if not comfortable, space.  There are some curiosities of course.  Mainly, I’ve discovered that my hut literally rains sand, covering me and everything I own 24/7 in a light granular powder. Not even kidding.  The first few mornings I woke up, I woke up with sand in my eyes and a crusty facemask, haha! Seriously though, it’s slightly ridiculous. I complained to another volunteer (from Sequim interestingly enough!) about my problem and she was like, “oh yeah, about that… don’t worry! You’re not crazy! That’s a totally normal and expected thing for living in a hut.” She met my incredulous stare with a laugh of her own, and added, “Oh and don’t worry, you’ll give up trying to clean up after it. I give you only a month. Just wait.”

And so, I suppose if that’s the worst of my problems thus far, and can keep a laugh ready in my back pocket, I can take on anything this new life will throw at me.  

And there will definitely be more.

Ola from Mapinhane!

Ola minha familia e meus amigos!!

For those of you not on Facebook, I’ve been woefully out of touch! My apologies! I hope to bring you up to speed on everything over the next week – there is much to tell!

Today, as I write, I am kept company by the micro-ecosystem living within the hut that has become my home for the next two years… the geckos, the spiders, and the other unseen critters scuttling about in my thatch roof send their warmest wishes to all of you freezing through a snowy Christmas holiday. I on the otherhand am most often found sprawled out across my concrete floor, trying to find as many cool spots as possible in order to bear the Mozambican summer heat.  For a Pacific Northwest girl, anything above 75 is getting toasty, and given that the last few days have averaged in the mid-90s (without AC or even a fan mind you!), you can imagine how creative I’ll have to be to stay cool the next few months.  I suppose it’s just another piece to the capital “I” of the Peace Corps’ “Integration” pie ;)

In any case, the last time I wrote I described the awesomeness of visiting the sites of other Peace Corps volunteers and the corresponding anxiety with the ever approaching deadline for receiving our site placements for service! Well that time has definitely come and gone, and I’m pleased to announce that I will be serving for two years in the same little town I wrote about in my last post – Mapinhane!

The day we received our assignments was one I’ll never forget… Peace Corps staff ushered us out onto this big concrete basketball court where they had drawn Mozambique and all its provinces out with white chalk. Then all 67 of us huddled in a big circle and waited as one-by-one we were handed big manila envelopes – envelopes that held the answers to all our questions about the next two years of our lives –  with the explicit accompanying instruction from our training coordinator Claudia: “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL WE SAY GO!” All I can say is that when that order came, we all ripped open our envelopes (there were some screams of course) and we all practically ran to our sites on the map, checking to see if we had the good fortune of having our friends posted nearby.  [Just for perspective, Mozambique is so big (at least double California) that Peace Corps has to divide the country into three regions – South, Central, and North. To get from a site in the South to a site in the North takes a minimum of three to four days by public transit. So essentially, it’s very likely that people who get placed in different regions may not to see each other until Close-of-Service (COS) ceremony two years from now. Given the tight bond of our group, this remains a reality that none of us are too thrilled about]. Afterwards, of course, there were hugs and tears alike. Some people got “exactly” what they wanted for a site (ex. mountains, electricity, a site mate etc), and others got exactly what they didn’t want (ex. a roommate, super rural, super urban, etc). That being said, I think it’s important to note that no one really knows if what they “wanted”  in a site will turn out to be all that important. As many volunteers I’ve talked to explain, the site you get is your site – whether it is horrible or amazing, you have to make it work. If you get your “dream” post, it may not turn out so dreamy. If you get your “nightmare” post, it’ll probably turn out to be not so bad. Either way, it’s up to YOU to make the most of it!

Perhaps what the hardest part about site placement was for me was the fact that I had very little control over the process.  Many volunteers work for YEARS (sometimes decades for some of the older volunteers in our group) to make their dream to serve in Peace Corps a reality. The fact that despite all your concerted efforts and planning you have absolutely no ability to influence your final placement is one that is difficult to reconcile without a learned sense of patience and serendipity.  As for me, I’ve wanted to serve in Peace Corps since middle school and dreamed up corresponding romantic ideas of freedom and solitude – living in a hut, somewhere in Africa, with daily encounters with lions and elephants.  I share this story not only to get some laughs, (because it IS ridiculous) but because I think it’s very easy to find ourselves with a certain image of who we’ll be and how we’ll live during our years as a volunteer.

Thus, when I opened my assignment letter, I was simultaneously thrilled, relieved, and disappointed. Thrilled because I absolutely loved Mapinhane when I visited it last month - relieved because I didn’t have to wait in Peace Corps bureaucratic limbo anymore…I had a plan! - and disappointed I suppose because this dream I’d spent so much time constructing had come to fruition. It’s hard to explain but so much of having a goal is the pursuit. Now, I’ve realized that this is it. I’d made it. My service to the community in Mapinhane going to define my Peace Corps experience. This is now my life!

That is why during the Peace Corps swearing-in ceremony at the Ambassador’s residence, there have been fewer prouder moments in my life than taking the oath of office – the same one as every President of the United States has taken and will forever take.  It was so humbling, and just so awesome!

After swearing in, I was dropped off at site on December 8, 2012 with a trunk, a large duct-taped up box, and two duffel bags.

I am living in a straw hut that’s smaller than any college dorm room I’ve ever lived.  

I will live the next two years without electricity or running water.

I have a desk, a good mattress, and a water filter.

I live literally one minute from the school where I’ll be teaching ninth grade English.

I’m learning both Portuguese and now also the local language of Chitswa.

This is my Peace Corps reality, and I’m loving it!

(More to come about Mapinhane in my next post!)