Avante, Rapariga!

Every year, girls all over Mozambique get together to participate in province-wide REDES workshops, where they learn all about women's health, STDs, puberty, and more. Somehow, before I knew what had happened, the second trimester was already well underway and our annual REDES Workshop was looming only two weeks away, with the planning responsibilities on my shoulders. Luckily, planning events is something I enjoy, so Redi, Laura and I got cracking -- and two weeks later, we found ourselves hours away from home with 25 girls from all over Tete in our charge.

The first morning was a bit rough. I woke up at 5 a.m. on the Big Day to a phone call from my counterpart in Manje, who told me that the chapa she had 'organized' wasn't there.

"Alternate transportation"

"What do you mean he's not there? Didn't you talk to him last night? I thought you arranged it all?" I asked, horrified.

"Well, sort of," she mumbled, "I talked to him, and he said the price you were offering was too low and he'd think about it, but I didn't want you to be upset so I didn't tell you and was just hoping he'd show. But he didn't. So there's no car."

I sighed, and spent the next four hours frantically running around Tete City and calling counterparts and drivers all over the place to try and get another plan into effect.

Cateme Secondary School

In the end, we made it to the secondary school in Cateme, a community entirely built by the Brazilian mining company Vale. The residents of Cateme used to live on what is now a very productive coal mine -- their reward for giving up their ancestral homeland? A big ol' pile of money and a really fancy school. Everyone was drooling over the secondary school -- glass windows, a library with books in it, lights that work, ceiling fans in every room, and even a computer lab. Wow.

After a very Mozambican opening ceremony (in which an important man in a suit tells us he's so thrilled that we're all here, blah blah blah) we were able to get started.

During the workshop, we talked about HIV/AIDS a lot. Even though these girls have been learning about it their whole lives, most of them still couldn't tell us what HIV or AIDS stands for. Many of them weren't sure if it could be transmitted by mosquitoes or not, and to top it off, a brave facilitator had to explain what anal and oral sex is to some of the girls. Awkward?

We tried to teach the girls through more than just lecture -- they've been lectured to their whole lives by varying degrees of hypocrites. ("Don't have sex," their male teachers tell them right before asking them to do a 'special favor' for a better grade.) The Mozambican facilitators did a GREAT job talking to the girls as equals and playing games and doing demonstrations with them.

Redi, my neighbor and good friend, led what was definitely one of the most successful sessions. She talked about different methods of contraception. One facilitator talked to the girls about her DEPO shots. We passed around someone's birth control pills so the girls could see what they looked like, and by the fascination in their faces I could tell none of them had seen birth control pills before. Finally, Redi talked about condoms.

"Do you know how to use condoms?" she asked after she had explained it.

"YES!" the girls shouted in unison.

"Great! Then show me!" Redi laughed as we passed out a banana and condom to each girl. They giggled nervously, but one by one they opened the condom and put it on the banana.

"We've never gotten the chance to practice before!" one girl whispered to me, "I was worried I'd do it wrong and get pregnant!"

The next day, Laura talked for a bit about how to start a small business - startup costs, fixed costs, etc. In order to give them a head start, we spent the rest of the morning teaching them something new that they could make at home to sell in their communities -- flower headbands made from capulana fabric. After so many intense sessions about HIV and malaria, I think everyone appreciated a few minutes to sit on the floor, chat with new friends, and have arts and crafts time. Each girl got to take home her own hand-made capulana flower, as well as extra needle and thread, and some capulana scraps to make more flowers.

We intentionally mixed the groups that they were in, so each girl was in a group with new people she didn't know. It was really nice to see how they went from being initially hesitant to chatting away through the course of the morning. By the end of the weekend, all the girls were friends and were playing clapping games and singing in their free time together.

My favorite song went like this:

Eu não sou bunda (I'm not a butt)

Eu não sou peito (I'm not a breast)

O meu corpo merece respeito!  (My body deserves respect!)

Alltogether, the conference went really well. The girls enjoyed it, and while it tuckered me out (I slept for 14 hours the night after) I thoroughly enjoyed it as well. It was nice to travel with my students, and I got the chance to just, well, hang out with them, outside the classroom.


The conference also made me realize (or, confirm, rather) some things about myself. For a while know, I've been coming to terms with the fact that teaching isn't for me. I enjoy it, yes, and I think I'm a decent teacher, but my skill set is better suited to doing things like REDES -- planning events, executing projects, etc. That's why I've always loved theater -- organizing all those details to come together at the end is like a high for me. So now that I have barely five months left of my service, I'm starting to look for a career that will make me happy. Suggestions are always welcome!

I'll leave you with this photo of me demonstrating how HIV/AIDS is spread.