Life's a Happy Song

This morning, I got up early (5 a.m.!) for a short morning jog. I was listening to my music, and a song from the most recent Muppets movie started to play.

Everything is great,

Everything is grand,

I've got the whole wide world 

in the palm of my hand!

I passed the market and lo and behold! Tempo de fome ("time of hunger") has left Mavudzi-Ponte! You can actually buy food here! I bought guavas, tomatoes, yams, and bananas -- all for about $2. So many vitamins! Did you know that one guava has the vitamin C of four oranges? With the amount of guavas I ate today, I'm probably going to start radioactively glowing with vitamin C.

Everything is perfect,

 It's falling into place,

I can't seem to wipe this smile off my face!

Teaching this week was a blast. We're reviewing for a test next week so I played Jeopardy with all my classes and they absolutely loved it. The score was really close in my 9th grade class, and they practically exploded when the last question ended it up in a tie -- my friend told me she could hear them cheering all the way from the professors' complex.

"What on earth were you teaching today? It was so loud, I woke up from my nap!"

I've got everything that I need

Right in front of me!

We're teaching our REDES girls how to cross-stitch -- after they practice a bit, we're going to try and make pretty things to sell in the community to raise money for our group. They're really enjoying it, and they squealed with delight when I pulled out my colored thread (thanks, Mom!).



I wanted to show them an example, so I stitched this cute owl a few nights ago. Unfortunately, owls are apparently a super bad omen around here -- when I showed it to my girls on Wednesday, they said "Oh... that's um... nice..." and went about their business stitching their flowers and decorative borders, making sure to keep away from the owl. Oops!

Nothing's stopping me,

Nothing that I can't be

When you're right here next to me!

On Tuesday, some of my little friends were over at my house watching me make dinner. They think it's so funny that I eat pasta with tomato sauce all the time -- a little hypocritical, coming from people who eat nothing but xima and couve all day. In any case, I was listening to music and when the song "Oh Yeah" by Yello came on (you know, the one from Ferris Beuller's Day Off that goes Oohhhhhhhhhhh yeaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!) they freaked out and started having a crazy dance party. I naturally took pictures to avoid having to join in with the White Girl Step-'n-Snap.

Life's a happy song

When there's someone by your side to sing along!

Life is pretty good here in Mavudzi-Ponte. I finally feel like I'm part of the community. People don't think I'm so strange anymore. (I haven't heard the word muzungu in over two weeks!)

I am growing very fond of my tiny town in a forgotten corner of Africa.

Abuse of Power

Mozambique, being one of the most underdeveloped and poorest countries in the world, has an extra large portion of problems on its plate. Some of these problems you see every day, like poverty, quality of health care, and the atrocious state of education. Sometimes people ask me "How can you stand being surrounded by all that bad stuff 24/7?"

Easy! You focus on the good things. The neighbor that reads to her kids every night. The girls who participate in class just as much as the boys do. The student who finally understands the simple past tense. Even small things-- the student who smiles and says "Good afternoon, Teacher" in the hallway when you walk by. I tend to think of myself as an optimist, and those are the things I focus on.

However, I was reminded this week with a jolt that Mavudzi-Ponte is not impervious to the problems of the developing world.

Last week, I found out that one of my ninth grade girls is dropping out of school. I asked why, and found out she's pregnant -- she's barely 13 and is pregnant. It gets worse. Over the weekend, there was a lot of fofoca (gossip) and it came out that the father of her child is none other than the pedagogical director at school -- the guy who is second in command after the school director.

This is so frustrating for many reasons. First and foremost, this girl's chances of improving her station in life just disappeared. Also, setting aside the obviously huge problem of this girl being only thirteen years old, the man who got her pregnant is supposed to be helping her get ahead in life. What's that they say about actions speaking louder than words? Most frustrating is that the guy won't face the consequences of his actions -- sure, the community will make him pay a sum of money to her family for reparitions, but that sum will not be nearly enough to cover the living expenses of a baby, much less atone for his blatant abuse of power.

Redi describes the female reproductive system.

One of my secondary projects aside from teaching has been to facilitate a REDES group with my roomate, Redi. REDES is a program that coordinates girls groups all over Mozambique -- we teach them important life skills about HIV, women's empowerment, and -- extremely pertinent at the moment -- pregnancy. Just last week, Redi and I discussed the female reproductive system with our girls, which makes the timing of this scandal particulary frustrating.

Most days, I wake up, look at my community and feel pride. I feel proud of all of my hardworking students. I feel proud of the colleagues who teach despite the fact that they haven't been paid in months. I feel proud of the girls who have the guts to stand their ground. Most days.

Today, however, I do not feel pride. Today, as much as wish I didn't, I feel shame for my community. Shame that there are people who take advantage of those less powerful. Shame that the community deems rape and teenage pregnancy acceptable. Shame at the father. Shame at the lack of outrage.

Most days I am proud of Mavudzi-Ponte, but today is not one of those days.

My Criança Problem

I have an infestation problem in my house. It's not the spiders -- I do have a lot of those, but I don't mind as long as they stay up by the ceiling beams and eat the mosquitoes and fruit flies. My problem isn't cockroaches, either -- ever since we sprayed the house with pesticide two months ago, they've all but disappeared. No, my problem is mammalian, and it's not rats or mice or stray animals. My problem is crianças -- children.

Since the day I moved in, in an effort to be open and welcoming to my community, I've literally had an open-door policy. After I get out of bed, get dressed and sweep the house, I open both doors to my house and usually leave them open all day. People are free to wander in, say hi, and wander back out again. Sure, this sometimes means that a neighbor will come over to chat at the exact moment that I sit down to start lesson planning -- but really, it's not much of an inconvenience for me to put my books aside and chat for a half an hour. Plus, if I really am in the middle of something (say, a Skype conversation or a the end of a really good book), I can just close my doors and people will take the hint.

Unfortunately, lately the individuals who come over to  my house the most (the children) have been getting more daring recently. If the doors are closed, they'll stand outside and say "COM LIÇENSA!" over and over and over until I let them in. If I'm sitting in the living room reading my kindle, and they'll come in and start shouting and punching each other.  Recently, they've even started opening the door and walking in whenever they want to. If I try to ignore them, to give them a hint to leave, they just follow me around and ask me about all of my belongings. ("Professora Helena, what's Nutella? Is it like peanut butter? Can I try some? Why not?")

The last straw happened last night.

It was 8 p.m. and my door was closed, but not yet locked. I was getting ready to curl up in bed and read before going to sleep. I washed my face and feet, brushed my teeth, and then pulled out my xixi bucket to pee before snuggling under the covers. While peeing, I hear a faint shuffling sound. I look up.

There, standing silently in my bedroom doorway, watching me pee, is Nilsa, the 9-year old from next door.

I wasn't really sure what to do. I had never been in this situation before. I couldn't get up and close the door mid-stream, so after a few bewildered deer-in-headlights moments, I frantically waved her away.

"What are you doing? Get out!" I said.

When I was finished, I walked out into the living room to wash my hands, and there she sat, on the couch, expectantly holding my deck of cards.

"Let's play." She said.

"No. I'm going to bed now." I said, somewhat angrily.

She stared at me and didn't move.

"I said, I'm going to bed."

"Ok." She shrugged, and didn't budge. She started shuffling the cards.

"Nilsa. I'm going to bed. you have to go home now."

She stared at me for another few minutes and then reluctantly put my cards back and trudged home.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I like children. There's a reason I wanted to be a teacher, the same reason I used to work at a preschool and got all my spending money in high school by babysitting. However, sneaky ninja children that walk unannounced into my house and creepily watch me go about my business -- that I do not like. So this evening, when the usual storm of children barges into my house expecting me to entertain them, we're gonna have to have a serious talk about boundaries and privacy.

It's time I get this infestation under control.

Top Ten Signs I'm in the Peace Corps

10. I don't remember what real milk tastes like. When I'm feeling lavish and extravagant, I have a glass of cold powdered milk for dessert.

9. Sometimes I find bugs in my pasta. I consider them for a moment, then decide its bonus protein and eat the pasta anyway.

8. For the first time in my life, I willingly wake up early and I'm exhausted by 9 p.m.

7. I have maningue trouble speaking pure English without the odd Portuguese word sneakily creeping into my sentences.

6. I regularly sit on my bamboo mat, wearing my handmade friendship bracelets, eating soy-based foods and playing my acoustic guitar. What a hippie.

5. Most of my friends are ninth graders.

4. Anything under 80 degrees is cool (hoodie weather). Under 70 is downright cold. (Hoodie, sweats, scarf and blanket.)

3. I show up for 8 o'clock meetings at 9:30 (and am still the first one there.)

2. On the rare occasion I have the opportunity to shower, I forget what order to do things in because I'm too distracted by the magical water falling from the ceiling.

1. When I wake up in the morning, I can't wait to see what's going to happen. I look forward to going to work every single day.

Photos of Home and School

Way back when I first moved in, I posted photographs of my new house. Well, it's been almost 5 months since then, and a lot has changed. I figured it's about time for an update! Plus, you've never seen my school. Let's start there.
 

This is my school. It's relatively new and, like most of the concrete buildings in my town, was built by the local Catholic church. You can't tell from this picture, but the school is basically a big U shape.

 

The quad. Isn't my school pretty? The students all take turns coming in in the mornings or after school to weed or water plants, clean cobwebs, and sweep classrooms. All together, they keep the school looking presentable and clean.

(1.) The hallway with the Director's office and 8th grade classrooms. (2.) Our official sign and flag. (3.) The covered walkway that connects the two prongs of the U-shape -- this is where professors hang out in between classes.

An average classroom. This was taken after school, which is why all the chairs are gone, but usually, yes, they have chairs. Almost every student has their own desk, too, which is unusual for rural schools like this one.

Future site of my Giant World Map. I'll be working with the Geography and Art teachers, as well as a bunch of students, to paint a HUGE world map on this wall. It faces the road, so the whole community can see it too. It's surprising how many kids (and adults) can't even point to Africa on a map.

My walk home. I step out of this dark hallway (left) onto a path (right) and you can see my house from the school.

Our living area. Notice all the beautiful new furniture since my last photos -- the shelves, sofa, coffee table, extra mattress... it's like people actually LIVE here now!

(1.) Decor in my bedroom. (2.) My bed. (3.) My guitar and my favorite tote bag. I explained to my students what "So many books, so little time" meant and they said "Teacher, that is most definitely your bag."

The Catholic church, and social hub of the town.

My neighbor, Páscoa. Also, probably my closest friend in Mavudzi-Ponte. Pictured here with her baby, Gelsia, who cries every time I walk into the room. Páscoa is going to work with me on Books for Africa, a program to stimulate early grade reading. She's an elementary school teacher.

My neighbors/students/friends -- Norai and Filomena. They both live in the same complex as me. When I went to go take photographs, they said "Teacher, take one of us, too!" They love photos. These two tend to sleep in my class, which is annoying, but I'm fond of them anyway. They're slowly trying to teach me Nyungwe.

There you have it. This is where I live and work!

I'll leave you with this gorgeous photo of the landscape in my town.

Pretty mountains!

Dia dos Trabalhadores (May Day)

Mozambique is one of the many countries of the world to celebrate International Workers' Day on May 1st-- not surprising, given Mozambique's history with communism. Work and school were both canceled for the day and the whole town set about preparing for a big celebration. Chickens were slaughtered, dirt was swept, and children were taught new songs.

The whole town gathers at the start of the day.

Cultural groups and dignitaries from our neighboring town, Kaunda, were invited as well. I was particularly happy about this because it meant I got to spend the day with Szasha. We had matching Dia do Trabalhador capulanas to wear. There's always a capulana for public holidays, and as a teacher I'm expected to have one.

Szasha and I match!

The schedule was set to start at 8 a.m., but this being Mozambique we started around 10:30. There were lots of speeches, cultural exhibitions, and student groups.

(1.) Human pyramid from Kaunda's gymnastics club. (2.) My students hold banners. (3.) Giant cow costume. More on that later.

It was a really enjoyable day. Having spent most of yesterday sequestered in my room, feeling down, it was nice to get out of the house and cheer up. Particularly fun was getting to hang out with my students outside the classroom -- they were all thrilled that I had my camera, and begged me to take lots of pictures of them.

(1.) Two of my neighbors -- they'll be in my class next year. (2.) Our student Vice President. (3.) Some of my ninth graders and a random grumpy lady behind them.

By far, though, the most interesting part of the day was the traditional dancers that came from Szasha's town. Although our towns are separated by only 20 km, they are populated by slightly different ethnic groups -- so seeing Nyau, a traditional dance of the Chewa/Nyanja people that live in Szasha's town, was a real treat.

Nyau is a secret male society. When they run around town, women and children are supposed to run from them in fear. The dancers wear large, elaborate masks and costumes made of wood and feathers and dance a very high-energy, spastic sort of dance that throws up clouds of dust from their fast-moving feet. Traditional Nyau dance is an ancient piece of African cultural heritage meant to communicate with the deceased and is recognized as one of the world's Masterpieces of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.

Nyau dancing.

Once the Nyau dancers disappeared back into the bush that they had magically appeared from, the first part of the celebration was over. We took a break to eat lunch -- delicious grilled chicken, french fries, and salad, prepared by my wonderful roommate, Redi, with delicious doce de coco prepared by the nuns for dessert. I definitely ate too much, and my stomach was feeling very Post-Thanksgiving. Worth it.

After a short break, it was time for the football game. I use the term football here to mean the game that the whole world calls football but Americans for some reason insist on calling soccer. Weirdos.

A team bussed in from Tete City to play Mavudzi-Ponte, and everyone gathered at the football field to watch. We were a little too worn-out to cheer, but we sat and watched our team lose nonetheless.

(1.) Spectators cheer on the Mavudzi-Ponte team. (2.) A little girl plays on the sidelines. (3.) My team, the ones in red, get their butts kicked.

I was having a great time, but I was so worn out by the end of the day that I snuck off home before the game ended. I still had some lesson planning to do, and wanted to wash the dishes before Redi got home. Nevertheless, it was a super fun day, and I can't wait until the next public holiday. By the end of the day, I probably looked as tired as this super cute baby:

Time for beddie-bye, as Rachel says.