Bringing Bras & Title IX to Mapinhane

I love how often the most mundane moments lend us the most astute insights.

Archimedes discovered displacement while taking a bath.  Einstein proved relativity while riding the trolley home from a dead-end job.  As for me, my recent moment of greater understanding, while admittedly more modest than the ideas of renown scientists, came when I was standing on the edge of the basketball court with my hands on my hips, pleading with my girls to at least break into a jog as they shuffled, grumbling, through their warm-up exercises. 

“Girls, why do you play basketball if you don’t even want to run?” I exasperatedly cajoled the group of teenage girls who stopped trudging around the court to size me up skeptically. The answer, of course, should have been obvious. With only a short pause and an exchange of sidelong glances, I was met with a resounding, screeching choral retort of “But Teaachaa Karinaaaaaa, we don’t liiiiike to ruuuuunnnnn!”

It’s a moment that most coaches face, yet for some odd reason rarely throw in the towel. If they did, coaches would have the highest turnover rate of all professions. Instead, like most of them I opted instead for a shaking of the head and a new game plan.

I suppose their answer shouldn’t have surprised me. It was a deja-vu flashback to the days that my Pops coached my elementary/middle-school recreational soccer team. We girls came in all shapes and sizes at that awkward stage of life. There was only one thing overall that united our team of misfits, nerds, misunderstood rebels, Goths, bible schoolers, and goodie two-shoes alike – a hatred of running laps. And my dad knew it. He also knew he held barely a thread of control on us rowdy and opinionated drama queens. So of course, laps quickly became a method used to keep us in line. Got to practice late? Run a lap. Forgot your ball? Run a lap. Brought the wrong uniform to the weekend game? Run until you were summoned back in, like a secret agent coming in from the cold. And we all ran. A lot. (Especially the coach’s daughter *cough cough*) Anyways. Ironically, although probably not surprisingly to my dad, it made us a better team. We even won our local championship that year and dominated the league for the next two. We consequentially, and rather appropriately, dubbed ourselves “The Force.”

And so, as I was taking in the obstinacy of the Mapinhane Girls Basketball team, I couldn't help wonder to myself what I was going to do to quench this most recent generation of lap-haters.  What was the root of their dissent?

Then, as I jumped in and rotated through their lines, running with them to tow the pace, I caught bouncing movement out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly, I grasped an inkling of the problem. My players were playing in bikini tops or had nothing at all under their jerseys to lock ‘n load their lady twins up top. Nadaaaa. “OUCHHH!” my mind hissed to itself, and I involuntarily grabbed my own breasts (which were thankfully secured by the tightest piece of mega-elastic south of the equator).  I knew instantly what needed to be done. But how?

As we began our stretches, I my mind spun furiously. How was I going to introduce the idea of sports bras to them? It is not the cultural norm in Mozambique to wear bras at all, let alone sports bras. But then, you don’t see many female athletes either! I didn’t want to be ethno-centric or impose Western values on them by expecting them to adopt the use of sports bras, but I wasn’t about to deny them the opportunity if they wanted it, especially if it was a factor contributing to their lack of hustle on the court.

So I posed the question to the group. It wasn’t without a significant amount of awkwardness.  “Er, umm, meninas…” I started haltingly, my mind scrambling to find words in Portuguese that I’d never had to know or use before.  “Voces tem problemas com suas… suas…” I then gestured with my hands to my chest and gave the lady twins up-top a squeeze. “SEIOS!!!!” they squealed gleefully in unison, incredulent that their mulungo Coach was bringing up the topic at all. Yes, breasts. Seios. Exactly. Ok, now we’re getting somewhere. “Tem… tem coisas para apoiar durante a practica?” (Do you have something to support them during practice?) I asked, flashing them my black UnderArmour racer-back bra strap from under my neon orange tee. The girls all cooed admiringly. “Naoooo, mas nos queremos!!” (Nooo, but we want that!) “Pensa que voce irao usar se eu posso encontrar?” (You think you’ll use them if I can find them?) “SIIII TEACHER SIIIIIII!!!!”  Ta bom. It was settled unanimously. The girls were incredibly excited. And the more I thought about it, the more I became excited about the opportunities that a small conversation about sports bras would give us to begin discussing as a whole the challenges of female athleticism in Mozambique.  Not only would sports bras remove their discomfort and increase their ability to hustle down the court without holding on to their own meninas (at at least rid them of an excuse), but as I thought about it more, it provided a  perfect venue for discussing positive body image and women’s rights overall.

Then, I wondered. How was I going to obtain enough bras for all eleven girls? My local searches for bras turned up nothing. Why? Let me explain quickly the general Mozambican culture regarding bras and breasts.

Simply put breasts are utilitarian and bras are luxury goods. This reality produces an interesting phenomenon here in Mapinhane – a woman who has the money to buy a bra will often purposefully leave it partially exposed out of her shirt as a fashion statement and as a way of expressing her class. And because breasts are viewed as solely utilitarian entities here in Mozambique, they are not sexualized in the way that they are in the West. Because of this, you’ll see women breastfeeding next to men on chapas or while haggling at the market or walking down the street. I’ve even seen women publicly taunt their children with their breasts, offering a free meal but then pull their nipples away at the last second and toss their heads back laughing as their kids start screaming tantrums. I’ve seen other women simply get busy with another task and forget to tuck their breast back into their shirts afterwards! The lack of reverence for the lady twins is a bit comic actually! Thus, unlike in the States where a mother will go out and buy her daughter a bra at the first sign of puberty in order to strap “the girls” down for gym class, girls grow up here completely bra free because they simply can’t afford it and their mothers and grandmothers have gone without for their whole lives.

Given this context, it’s no wonder that I struggled to find sports bras in the entire Inhambane province. And while I suspected sports bras were available in the capital city Maputo, I also expected them to be outrageously expensive. And so, I got momentarily stuck.

Then, I had a second breakthrough.  Rather unsurprisingly it came during a Sunday evening phone call with my mom.  

After giving her the full spiel and explaining to my mom the bra-blockade I’d encountered, we began to brainstorm. “Argh, what I would give for a bag of bras from Target,” I whined into the line, punching my mosquito net above me half-heartedly. “Well, shoot, that’s easy then honey! Just run a little fundraiser or campaign at home!” At home. Suddenly, we were rapid firing names and local groups we’re connected to that could be interested in supporting such a venture. “Kitsap Sports!” “YMCA” “Kitsap Rowing” “LOCR!”  “WU Crew!” “LISA B. AND THE KITSAP TRI BABES!!!”

Boom. There. We had it. My mom and I had both trained and competed with Lisa and the Tri-babes during my high school years. We loved the all-women’s group and what it represented and promoted in our community – healthy living, camaraderie, and girl-power. “Ok,” my mom said, “you send Lisa an email and heck! I’ll even try to call Title Nine Sports Co…or maybe Nike? They’d love this type of PR. Maybe they’ll send you something too!” “Whoaaaa, mom!” I said laughing yet fully understanding where her enthusiasm bubbled up from. That same type of excitement regularly bubbles unfiltered and unrestrained out of me, too.  “Let’s just wait to hear from Lisa first.” Besides, I really loved the idea of our team of atletas in Washington helping to sponsor my new team of atletas halfway across the world in Mozambique. It felt auspicious and of course, fulfills the second and third goals of Peace Corps: to improve understanding of Americans on the part of Mozambicans, and to improve the understanding of Mozambicans on the part of Americans.  Mom and I exchanged a few “I love you”s then we hung up and I got to work.

I’ve known Lisa B. since the summer I turned 15, when I trained for and competed in my very first triathlon. The Kitsap Tri-babes was (and remains!) a group of aspiring women who meet two to three times a week to train for triathlons together.  Lisa is an accomplished Ironwoman herself whose effervescence and compassion quickly (and somewhat incredibly) warms anyone up to the idea that it’s actually FUN to put yourself through the type of full-body and mind battles that are triathlons. Her can-do, encouraging “pink-tri-turtle-power-never-give-up!” mantra fed my own dedication to girl-power and transformed her quickly into an amazing role-model. And knowing Lisa, I knew she'd be the type to inspire action through her sheer enthusiasm. Thus, when I sent off a message explaining my interest in organizing and running a local sports-bra drive with the Kitsap Tri-babes to sponsor the Mapinhane Girls Basketball team, I was thrilled yet somewhat unsurprised when in response I received a very typical Lisa-type of message that oscillated between all-caps “AWESOME”s and a multitude of scattered exclamation points (eg.!!!!!!!). With Lisa's contagious energy, it took only a few exchanges regarding logistics, and Lisa and the Tri-babes were on board!

So, just as the Kitsap Tri-babes sweated and trained for their big race day this August, the Mapinhane girls basketball team hit the court for practice. When the Tri-babes were gutting through their Saturday BRICK workouts, I used scrimmage timeouts to pass around a team photo of the Tri-babes on my phone for my girls to see their sport-sisters in action half a world away.  Least to say, it became a wonderful exchange not only of athleticism, but also of solidarity through sports(wo)manship. Meanwhile, day by day, week by week, Lisa emailed me updates about the bra-drive on the home-front, and in Mapinhane I took the girls’ measurements, which turned into a morning of the girls giggling and teasing each other about how “big” or “small” they were. Finally, with the close of the Tri-babe training season, the bras were packaged up and sent! All I had to do was wait and cross my fingers that the box o’ bras arrived safely in the Vilankulos post office.

On one of my Tuesdays off from work, I decided to once again go to Vilankulos and eagerly check the post-office one more time… 

AND THERE IT WAS!! A GIGANTIC 20LB BOX OF BRAS. THEY’D MADE IT!! 

All-in-all, nearly 100 bras were raised and over $150 donated to ship the bras. Moreover, the bras successfully traveled over 12,000 miles from Seabeck, WA to Mapinhane, Mozambique. That's literally halfway across the world (no really, I ran some numbers/GoogleEarth'ed it!). 

After bantering with the customs guy at the postoffice about what the bras were for, I discarded the box for a capulana, wrapped up the bras inside, tied a knot at the top and swung them ontop of my head Mozambican style as I left the office.Of course, I had to carry the mega-bag of bras through the entire town of Vilankulos on my shopping errands... Not only did I earn some enthusiastic "Amerika, hoye!!" cheers but I also sparked an unprescendented level of fofoca (gossip). My sex appeal apparently skyrocketed (because it's not everyday you see a white girl carrying stuff on her head!). In addition to the marriage proposals, five different Mozambican mothers stopped me to set me up with their sons. It was hilarious!'

Finally, Saturday practice rolled around and I swung the bag of bras onto my bike and pedaled over to the court. Soon the girls arrived, and we sat down at the half-line circle and I led a discussion about what these bras meant, where they came from, who sent them, and of course, about how sports and playing basketball affects their life in Mozambique. Then, came the moment we'd all been patiently waiting for... unwrapping the bag and getting fitted with the newly arrived bras!! After dividing them into groups, I turned them lose. Chao commenced. All eleven of them dove into the bags, started stripping off their shirts right int the middle of the court and started trying them on. I then modeled the "bounce" test and soon all eleven girls were shrieking gleefully, hopping, jumping, skipping around the court to "test" out their new support system. I honestly couldn't stop grinning!!!

"Mulheres sao a fundacao" - Women are the foundation

The "before" photo. We discussed the role of sport in our lives, the perception of girls who play sports in Mozambique, and why they like playing basketball. Left to right: Chupina, Joana, Eliza, Laura, Cristina, Dulce, Isabel, Ramadane, Nelca, Edna, Madalena. 

Excitement and mayhem! I divided up the bras by size, then assigned the girls to pick out two bras from the bags according to their fittings. Screaming and giggling commenced!

The "after" photo: And a big,"THAAAAANK YOU KITSAP TRI-BABES!!"

Time to practice! Madalena taking the ball down the court. She's our captain :)

Dulce and Ramadana.

Isabel taking the shot! She needs to learn how to pass more, but she's a dynamic, agressive little player! A soon-to-be powerhouse! 

Now to bring it back around to what this all means. Our eureka moment.

Overwhelmingly, girls and women face a huge amount of social advancement obstacles and discrimination here in Mozambique. They bear the burden of housework, of children, of caring for family members, and of sacrificing their needs and desires for the benefit of men. Their subservience to men is best seen through literacy rates (61%), life expectancy rates, poverty, underage marriage, school enrollment ratios and dropout rates, lack of accessible/affordable to health care, financial dependence, and opportunity for higher education and career training. It's a reality of incredible, imposing odds that make standouts like Mozambican Olympic track and field champion Maria Lourdes Mutola dedicate their post-professional athletic careers to youth, especially female empowerment. The Maria Mutola Foundation works to provide youth the services and resources needed to further Mozambique's development through education, sport, and entrepreneurial opportunities. In other words, sports offer an excellent platform to reach out to at-risk youth and engage and encourage the development of important life-skills that could transform into real empowerment for girls and women as a whole.

And so, as we take this sweeping panoramic view of the situation of women in Mozambique, and zoom into the microcosm of Mapinhane, we find a group of girls who wanted to play basketball but had no one to coach them, who wanted to get active but lacked the resources. Now we have balls. We have bras. And we have a dedicated group of  women both here in Mapinhane and far across the world in Kitsap cheering them on. It's perhaps a small act, a mere blip on the radar of development work here in Mozambique. But, as Margaret Mead best surmises, "Never underestimate the the power of a small group of committed people to change the world. In fact, its the only thing that ever has."

And so, to sum it all up, I'd like to extend a HUGE heartfelt THANK YOU to Lisa B. and the Kitsap Tri-babes!!! Your compassion, sportsmanship, camaraderie, and overall sponsorship of the Mapinhane Girls Basketball team enriches the girls' athletic experience and provides a new context of making sport and healthy living a new and accessible reality. The work and mentorship continues here, but this form of people-to-people activism gives us a foundation to grow from! WE COULD NOT HAVE DONE THIS WITH OUT YOU!!

But don't let me speak for them! Check out the video below! :)

**Note: If you're a Kitsap Tri-Babe, I'd love to hear how you felt about the sports bra drive, what you felt compelled by, and what you thought about sharing the love of good health and an active lifestyle with these young Mozambican women. Please feel free to comment below or send me a message!! I'd like to compile your experiences as well!!