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.