The Beginning of the Adventure: Words for Moz 23

Dear Moz 23 Volunteers,

Congratulations on being selected to serve in Mozambique; it is a beautiful country with a difficult history and a bright future. You will find yourself changing in ways you never thought possible. I hope that these few words of advice and preparation will help you to have a happier, more productive, and more fulfilling service.

Mozambique will change you more than you will change it. Yeah, yeah, I know the "whole point" of what we're doing here is to change the world; to teach these kids something; to make a difference. Honestly, you will make a difference, but probably not the difference you thought you'd make. Did I teach any of my kids to speak English? Weeelll... not really. But did I make a difference in peoples lives? You betcha, almost as much as they made in mine! What will change the most will be your attitudes towards life, towards family, towards education, towards poverty... you will come out of this a different person. And that's a good thing; don't be afraid to change.

Get ready for a rollercoaster; being a PCV will be awesome and awful at the same time; you'll have highs and lows, probably within an hour of each other. And you know what? That's OK. That's Peace Corps, and eventually it will even out. You may well find yourself thinking "This can't possible get any worse. What the heck am I doing here?" For those times, you have your friends -- both fellow PCVs and Mozambicans -- to reach out to. Reach out. It helps.

Focus on the things you can do; don't worry about those you can't. Mozambique has a lot of problems. Corruption, hunger, poverty, the list goes on. You're a teacher; focus on that. Focus on your secondary projects. Don't worry about every little thing that sucks about life here, or you'll get bogged down and depressed. Maybe your school is corrupt -- you can't control that. But you can control how you discipline kids in your class, and how you interact with your students when you are in control. Focus on that. You can't stop corruption. You can't feed every hungry child. But you can have a positive impact in your community -- just find an opportunity and have at it!

You may be a teacher, but that doesn't mean you stop learning. You are coming in with a first-class eduction and real-life experience, but Mozambicans have a lot to teach you. Don't assume that you know what's best for them; be open to listening to how and why things are done here. It's easy to fall into the trap of judging Mozambique for not being more like America. Well, guess what? It's not America! And it never will be. Open yourself up to learning the deeper origins of the issues in Mozambique; you'll find yourself more integrated and more effective.

Be productive and all that; but remember to have fun. We're here to do a job. Do that job. But in your free time, make the most of living here! Enjoy yourself!  Have a meal with your neighbor's family. Visit other volunteers. Throw a party. Go to Victoria Falls and Kruger. Splurge on pizza in the big city. Wander into the bush for three days. See as much of Mozambique as you can. The adventures you have here will stay with you forever.

Get ready for the best damn two years of your lives. I know you're all worried about packing, and that's normal, but honestly; it's going to be OK. Unless you forget to bring underwear, you'll be fine.

Have a great trip to Mozambique, and I'll see you all at training in 7 weeks! Drink a milkshake in my honor!

BEMVINDOS!

P.S. Y'all better start bribing Peace Corps staff now; only one of you gets to replace me at my site, and it's a pretty sweet deal... just saying.

Ready, Redi?

Redi was the first person I met from Mavudzi-Ponte; She came and picked me up from Chimoio, took me to our house, and made me feel welcome. My first year of service, Redi and I lived together and had a blast. We work together as English teachers, we co-facilitate our REDES group, we are both involved in English Theater, and she hosts a once-a-week English lesson for the kiddos in Quizito and my community library program. Redi is my closest Mozambican friend, and I don't know what I would have done these last two years without her. She's got spunk, she's funny, she's a good friend, and most of all, she is a great teacher who really cares about her community.

Whodathunk my closest friend would be a 40-year-old sassy African lady.

Back in January, at a Peace Corps conference, I learned about a scholarship opportunity for Mozambican teachers through the U.S. Embassy in Maputo. The program, funded by the Department of State called TEA ('Teaching Excellence and Achievement,' funded by the Department of State) is a six-week teaching seminar in the United States with a two-week practicum in an American high school.

On my paper, I wrote in capital letters in red pen and circled and starred it: REDI!

Over the next three months, we worked hard on Redi's application. She filled out a mountain of paperwork and I wrote her a glowing letter of recommendation. She traveled to Maputo to take the TOEFL test and do an interview, and passed both with flying colors. She was approved as a finalist for Mozambique, and her name was sent to Washington to be considered alongside hundreds of others from all over the world for one of 75 spots in the cohort. And then we waited.

...and waited...

...and waited...

The original deadline for the decision, the end of July, came and went. August came and went. September came -- and then, one day, Redi appeared at my door, flushed with excitement. "Can I check my e-mail on your computer? The decisions are out!"

Redi, Laura and I huddled around my little laptop and cursed the incredibly slow internet connection as it loaded Gmail.

Loading. (I closed my eyes and cross my fingers.)

Loading. (Redi crossed herself and said a prayer)

Loading -- and then!

"Congratulations! It is my pleasure to inform you of your acceptance to the 2015 TEA Cohort."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

We all screamed, at a pitch probably only dogs and small children could hear. We jumped, hugged each other, and screamed and laughed some more. Redi went running out the door, past all the other teacher's houses, shouting "I'M GOING TO AMERICA! I'M GOING TO AMERICA!" Everyone else came outside and started hugging and clapping, shouting "LET'S ALL GO TO AMERICA!" It was a very intense communal joy, and one of the happiest moments of my time in Mozambique.

This program will most definitely change Redi's life for good. Without this opportunity, Redi almost certainly would never have made it to the U.S. -- and most likely, she probably would never have left southern Africa. During those six weeks of next spring, she'll make contacts and learn new skills that will help her to go far and do whatever she wants to do.

I'm so proud of her, and so happy that I could help her to make this dream a reality. Sometimes, in Peace Corps, we lose hope, because we don't see the immediate results of what we're doing. In the movie Blood Diamond, Leonardo DiCaprio's character says "Peace Corps types only stay around long enough to realize they're not helping anyone." Well, at least in this case, I feel proud to know that I did help make a difference in someone's life, and it's a big difference too.

World, get ready for Redi!

Thanks for everything, Redi! You deserve this!

Close of Service Conference -- Already!?

This is a photo of Moz 19, my training class in Mozambique, as we swore in to become Peace Corps volunteers at the end of our ten-week training in 2012. At the time, two years in Mozambique seemed like an eternity to me. Would I be able to live here for that long? Could I stick it out? I wasn't sure.

And yet, last week, Moz 19 had our Close of Service conference, which marks the beginning of the end. Two years have flown by, and now I find myself thinking, "Will I be able to go back to the States" and "How am I going to leave this place?"

The conference was a very emotional time, because it was the last time we were all going to be together -- during the actual close of service process in November/December, only a few volunteers go through the process in Maputo at a time. On the last day of the conference, we finished our sessions early and went with Custodio, everyone's favorite Peace Corps staffer, to enjoy ourselves at the Feira Popular, which has bumper cars and a swing ride, among other things. It was a bittersweet night; everyone had fun, but after a while, people slowly started trickling back to the hotel and out of our lives forever.

First thing he ever said to us: "Hi, I'm Custodio. And I'm awesome."

 After my first year of Peace Corps dragged on like nothing else, I can't believe how fast the second year has gone. It's funny to remember the things that I was scared of before coming -- bugs, heat, loneliness -- and finding that those things don't really bother me anymore. (Seriously, as I write this it's over 100F outside and I'm comfortably wearing long sleeves.)

I remember having a complete breakdown upon finding out where my site was -- I cried so much that Custodio, upon walking by me, looked very uncomfortable at the sight of me sobbing into Veronica's dress, and awkwardly said, "Well... OK... I'll just come back later..." Now, I love Mavudzi to bits -- my students, my friends, my colleagues -- everything. Whoever replaces me is one lucky duck.

I remember getting to my house, an empty, sweltering concrete box, and thinking "Oh no... what have I done!?" Now, this house is filled with the ghosts of so many memories -- good memories, bad memories, funny memories, powerful memories -- and seems anything but empty to me.

I remember walking into the conference room during Staging in Philadelphia, and being overwhelmed by all the other prospective Peace Corps volunteers, thinking "Who the heck am I to be in a group with these people who have their lives all figured out?" Now, those people are my closest friends, with whom I share everything, and I have my own life much more figured out -- so much so, apparently, that my colleagues voted me "Most Likely to Be Country Director of Peace Corps Mozambique in 20 Years". (Um... what? But, hey, thanks!)

From the original 68 volunteers in Moz 19, we lost 11 volunteers because they had transferred here from Cape Verde and had only one year of service in Mozambique. We lost several others for various reasons -- family emergencies, medical conditions, dissatisfaction with Peace Corps or Mozambique. 49 of us made it all the way to the end, and I wholeheartedly congratulate each and every one of them. A few are even extending their time, an option that I seriously considered and ultimately decided was not for me.

Here's to you, Moz 19! We did it!

Two Years Later

From here on out, there are a lot of "lasts". Some of them are very sad (The last time I will ever see some very important people), some of them are stupid (The last bar of soap I'll ever open in Mozambique), and some of them are great (The last time I'll ever have to ride a chapa!)

So what are my plans from here on out? Short-term, after close of service, I'll be traveling with my closest PCV friend Lisa (dune-surfing in Namibia, safari-ing in Swaziland, and exploring Capetown) before flying to Germany to spend a (hopefully) white Christmas with my family. I cannot express how excited I am to celebrate a real Christmas, with cold weather, warm fires, family, hot chocolate, and snow.

After that, I'll return to Texas for a while, awaiting the results of several job and scholarship applications, and I'll start living the rest of my life.

Weird.