“So, how was Africa?”

All Peace Corps Volunteers dread this question. How do we sum up 2 years of service in an “elevator pitch?” Is the interrogator actually interested in hearing about our experience? Do they know that Africa is a continent, not a country?

But during my trip home & subsequent return to Mozambique, a lot of people actually asked “So, how was America?” Before all my energy reverts to sweeping the endless poeira, waiting in bank lines & finding the cheapest produce, I wanted to capture my impressions of the U.S. after fifteen months away.

As I mentioned in my previous post, it was overwhelming to have so many choices. I usually made friends chose where to get lunch or dinner, because the menu alone would be a challenge for me. I’m sure people who saw me wandering through the grocery store or CVS decided that I was a little “slow.” Even the multiple bathrooms in my parents’ house took some adjustment.

Along with the plethora of food and amenities, I appreciated the diversity of the people around me. As I’ve mentioned before, Mozambicans will yell “urungo” when they see a white person go by. They assume it would be the same for them in America. I’ve tried to explain that Americans come in all shapes, sizes and colors, but I don’t think Mozambicans believe me. I wish I could have shown them my fellow passengers on the train in New York, DC or Chicago. People-watching gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling—kind of like the montage at the beginning of “Love Actually.”

Demographics also stood out to me when I visited my grandmother’s retirement community. It was great to see so many happy, productive people over the age of 70. On the other hand, Mozambicans are appalled that not all families will accept elderly parents into their homes. They would probably find my grandmother’s community, as beautiful and comfortable as it is, a little creepy.

Despite spending my whole trip with friends & family, I did sometimes feel isolated. Although I loved watching the crowds of people flow by, it was weird that I didn’t know anyone. It was especially odd to be surrounded by white people who I didn’t recognize—the expat community in Lichinga is small enough that everyone at least looks familiar. And neighbors here will visit me at 6 in the morning, whereas in the Poconos with my parents, I saw more wild turkeys than other people. My aunt, while discussing the lengthy renovation of her house, commented that “the neighbors probably wonder what’s taking so long.” It was strange to me that she hadn’t discussed the process in detail with everyone on her street. My neighbors usually know what I eat for dinner and what time I get home from work! I felt especially isolated while walking from a hotel to a Wendy’s in Florida—I was the only pedestrian visible in the vast expanse of suburbia.

Although I do love walking everywhere, I was also happy to have cheap flights and public transportation at my disposal. The Bolt Bus felt incredibly luxurious, although every time I saw tall buildings I assumed we’d arrived in New York City. I was less quick to take advantage of my technology options. I didn’t pick up the phone and call friends very often, or even check email or Facebook on my laptop rather than my phone. It felt strange to talk on my Blackberry while walking down the street—I would never do that in a Mozambican city, because of pickpockets. But in the U.S. people probably just wondered why I still have a Blackberry.

Overall, I spent the month being blissfully, ecstatically content. Obviously, the two weddings I attended were beautiful and meaningful occasions. But getting a hot dog at a baseball game, listening to One Direction on the elliptical at the gym, and getting beers on a random Tuesday night also made me euphorically happy. When a man rang the doorbell one evening to DELIVER SUSHI, I could have cried. (I’ve relived that experience in conversations with several volunteers back in Moz.) And dancing to “Call Me Maybe” at the wedding receptions was literally a dream come true. PCVs here all love that song, but we listen to it alone in our houses or on solitary runs. (Or teach the lyrics to our neighborhood English clubs…) An actual dance party with friends is an epic event that happens once or twice a year.

My feet are already losing the clean glow conferred by pedicures and showers, but the happiness and delight of my vacation are still there. I was so well taken care of—not only by Starbucks and paved roads, but also by all the people who welcomed me home. I’ve often commented that my Mozambican neighbors and PCV friends would go out of their way to help me in any situation. It’s part of the culture here; “of course I’ll invite you for lunch, take care of your newborn kittens, or transport a package for you.” But the errands with my mom, the shout-outs at the weddings, and the many futons/beds/sofas I slept on prove that my support system at home is just as strong. I felt like I had missed some things; on the wedding weekends, I awkwardly asked Sam and Steph if I could see their engagement rings. But even if I wasn’t sure what year someone was in grad school, or hadn’t met their serious boyfriend/girlfriend, the essential connection was still there.

Sitting on the plane last week, I felt like I was simultaneously leaving home and going home. As I reflected at the time, that makes me a lucky girl.

I’m writing this post in the Frankfurt airport– my first time outside southeastern Africa since arriving in Mozambique 15 months ago! It’s nice to wait in efficient, orderly lines & to hear people speaking english, but some reverse culture shock has also set in. I feel very grungy & very overwhelmed by all the stores and food options. And this is just a layover en route to my final destination(s) of Florida, Maryland/DC, Philadelphia, New York, Boston and Chicago. I couldn’t be more excited to spend time with friends and family & attend two very special weddings. But I’m definitely interested to see how I can integrate my Peace Corps reality with my life back home during this visit.

My visit home was timed around the aforementioned weddings, but the midpoint of my service is also a great time to take a break and recharge. This time next year, I’ll be done with my Peace Corps service, which is simultaneously exciting and terrifying. Hopefully I’ll return from this trip with renewed energy & motivation to really make the most of my remaining time in Mozambique. The month-long vacation should be the perfect antidote for burnout. It’s already included traveling through 4 countries in 24 hours, running a marathon, and seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. So I’d say it’s off to a good start! But before I plunge into all the awesomeness of weddings and family (and Starbucks and sushi and IPAs and washing machines…) I want to take a step back and talk about the last few months.

From May through mid-July, I spent all my time in Lichinga, without so much as a day trip to the lake. I established a solid routine and got momentum behind projects like my REDES girls’ group, an English club, some grant applications, home improvements, and marathon training. It was nice to have so much uninterrupted time at site; it’s an up-side of our relative isolation & tough travel logistics as volunteers in Niassa. But at the same time, I was motivated by the fact that I had several great trips coming up. And each opportunity to leave Lichinga gave me a new perspective on the work I was doing back at site.

In mid-July, I flew to Tanzania for a safari with my mom, dad, sister, aunt & uncle. After a few days in the Arusha area, we all came back to Lichinga. This visit will absolutely be one of the highlights of my service & something I talk about for the rest of my life. (Maybe I can even solicit a guest blog post about it). I was incredibly excited to sit and have a leisurely, in-person conversation with my family after a year of emails sent across time zones and pre-scheduled phone calls on bad networks. And the luxury of being in the SAME PLACE as my family was, of course, just that– an incredible luxury and privilege. They spent a ton of time, effort and money on visas, shots, flights and hotels, which not every family could do or would even have the desire to do. We definitely weren’t traveling on a Peace Corps budget, which emphasized that despite my two years without running water, my life will never really be anything like my Mozambican neighbors’ reality. My family’s standard of living is out of reach even for many Americans. I’ve had amazing opportunities and support throughout my life, and will hopefully go home to even broader horizons. During our time in Tanzania, I felt a bit awkward being the stereotypical white tourist. But there’s no point in feeling guilty when I should just feel grateful & motivated to work that much harder.

Being a tourist also made me appreciate once again Peace Corps’ emphasis on community integration. We have a very unique opportunity compared to other expats, whether they’re travelers or development professionals. We don’t have cars, guards, large salaries or families with us at site, but we DO have great language training, supportive staff & fellow volunteers, and tons of flexibility/freedom. We have the incredible gift of 2+ years to conhecer Mozambique’s realidade, without the pressure of 9-to-5 jobs or fundraising requirements or rigid, top-down goals. (That last point could be debatable, but in theory all PCVs are here to further the goals of our communities, not to impose any external agenda. I’m basically re-stating here the message of the Sargent Shriver quote in my last post.)

As a volunteer in a provincial capitol, I sometimes feel guilty that I’m not “as integrated” as PCVs in smaller/more rural sites. But my family’s visit showed me how much relationship-building I HAVE done in Lichinga. They remarked that we couldn’t walk down the street for more than five minutes without being stopped and greeted by a neighbor, coworker or friend. I warned my family that Sonita’s take-away stand would probably be closed, and rattled off her specific travel plans. My sister’s response: “WHY do you know all that about the lady who makes your chicken sandwiches? Sorry that when you visit Boston I won’t be able to introduce you at every store I go to.” My family spent almost their entire visit just meeting neighbors, coworkers and friends. Everyone in Lichinga (up to and including the mayor) was eager to meet them, and they really managed to connect with people despite the language barrier. It was great to see my life-long biological family interact with my new hodge-podge “family” in Mozambique, from my PCV sitemates to the neighborhood crianças.

Shortly after my family’s visit, I went down to Namaacha to help with the final week of training for the new group of health volunteers. It was a great reminder of why we all chose to come here & what our goals should be at site, as well as a nice opportunity to see staff & my host family. But as I discussed homestays and practicum projects with the trainees, I also realized how much more confident & independent I am after a year at site. At my own group’s midservice conference a few weeks later, it was awesome to be all back together for the first time in 7 months & to compare notes. We all do very different things & have overcome different challenges, but every single person has great stuff going on at site.

Of course, this great community integration can bring out some quirks in our personalities. My excitement over food buffets & care packages, as well as my references to the rural “districts” outside the “capitol” of Lichinga, reminded my sister of the Hunger Games. My family wasn’t very interested in my sitemates’ gossip about where to find the cheapest pumpkins or where a new cell tower just went up. My hissy fit when I was served a “chefe beer” at a hotel seemed ridiculous to them, whereas a PCV would NEVER buy the smaller, more expensive bottles that are status symbols for the “chefes” or bosses here. At least they did agree that homemade avocado ice cream is delicious.

I’m sure more idiosyncrasies will emerge during my visit home– perusing wedding registries & shaving my legs above the knee have already proved challenging. But I absolutely can’t wait to swap stories with everyone at home, and hopefully I’ll be back on this blog in October with more frequent (and therefore shorter!) updates.

Okay, this blog doesn’t actually have “quotes of the day,” but I liked this description of Peace Corps as compared to other overseas missions. The quote is from Sargent Shriver, the first Director of Peace Corps, who passed away last year at age 95. It’s also appropriate for Father’s Day weekend, since it’s taken from Mark K. Shriver’s book “A Good Man,” written about his dad.

“Our volunteers [do not] go overseas as the salesmen of a particular political theory, or economic system, or religious creed. They go to work with people, not to employ them, use them or advise them. They do what the country they go to wants them to do, not what we think is best. They live among the people, sharing their homes, eating their food, talking their language, living under their laws, not in special compounds with special privileges.
 
“…It is only with this compassion that man can look upon man-through the mask of many colors, through the vestments of many religions, through the dust of poverty, or through the disfigurement of disease-and recognize his brother.”

I also wanted to share a quote from a letter my grandfather wrote for the millennium, reflecting on the last 75 years of his life:

“The thirties and the great depression took me from age three to my 13th birthday; this was the decade of now unbelievable poverty. There were probably ten automobiles among the two hundred or so people I knew in Wyndmoor. We always had plenty of food mostly the result of the huge summer garden and the extensive preserving of many vegetables. We had meat on Saturday and Wednesday; except in Lent when we never had meat, but had fish on Friday…

“Kids never got new clothes, these were handed down from someone else. In our family mostly from the Boyles, my father’s sister’s family, as their kids were older than the Timoneys. I remember being skilled at fixing holes in shoe soles by cutting and inserting cereal box sides; a little tire tape could hold a loose sole to the shoe. Building up waxed paper bread bags made both baseball gloves and waterproof gloves for snow ball making. No one ever talked of being poor because everyone was the same.”

The crianças in my neighborhood would find many familiar images in Biggers’ description of his childhood. I don’t want to imply that Mozambique is stuck almost a century “behind” the US, dealing with poverty that we only see in our history books. It’s true that Mozambique ranks 184 out of 187 countries on the UN’s Human Development Index & 60% of the population lives below the international poverty line of $1.25 a day. But it’s not the poverty so much as the resourcefulness that Biggers describes that reminds me of life here in Moz. My neighbors grow corn, beans and lettuce in their yards & have larger machambas (gardens) outside the city. Meat and fish are a special treat. Kids put a lot of effort into mending their clothes and shoes to look nice for school, and although there’s no baseball or snow, they make soccer balls and kites out of plasticos (plastic bags).

After a year in Mozambique, one of the biggest changes from my life in the U.S. is how much less STUFF I have– and how much less I think I need. As long as your clothes are clean, what’s wrong with repeating the same outfits every week? In fact, it helps me remember names & faces when my friends wear the same Hillary Duff or Iowa Hawkeyes tshirt most of the time. My house felt empty when I first moved in, but shelves for my books & clothes now seem like a waste of money. A cardboard box covered with a capulana makes a great dresser! I recently superglued a pair of sandals back together, and have done some creative electrical repairs to my stove. All my empty bottles & cans are given to the kids—unless I keep them to use myself. When they come over to borrow markers and crayons, they draw on the back of any printouts I don’t need anymore. Food scraps go on top of the grass clippings in the yard. Any other trash goes in a small grocery bag, which takes me a whole week to fill up before I burn it in my firepit.

During my English club yesterday, a neighbor asked whether we have poverty in the U.S. like they do in here. I answered that yes, we do have poverty, although there’s also more of a government & nonprofit safety net. On the other hand, vegetable gardens and close ties with extended family are much less common. What would the Timoney family have done in the 1930s without home-grown vegetables and hand-me-down clothes from the Boyles? Here in Mozambique, neighbors are always willing to share whatever food they have with anyone who’s hungry. I’ve been humbled by people’s generosity, despite how much I have in comparison to their families.

Biggers wrote that “no one ever talked of being poor because everyone was the same.” However, kids here see well-off people on TV and in Lichinga itself. The members of my REDES group said that girls who can’t afford nice shoes or clothes frequently date older men in return for “presents.” This is one of the major reasons that their 9th and 10th grade peers end up getting pregnant.

At our next REDES meeting, we’ll start a small income-generation project, using fabric scraps from neighborhood tailors to make flowers. The flowers will be decorated with buttons and beads, sewn on hair clip and headbands, and sold. These funds will make our group sustainable, and the girls will develop the skills needed to earn money through their own hard work & initiative.

Biggers said that his first job at Samtmann Bros. Rose Growers “liberated me from childhood and poverty.” Our project will increase the REDES girls’ confidence and independence, but it should actually prolong their childhood by helping them avoid transactional relationships. And hopefully making our ganchos (hair clips) will be almost as fun as playing with papagaios (kites)!

You may recall my post last month about malaria & the Peace Corps “Stomp Out Malaria” initiative. Here in Mozambique, “Stomp” has a tumblr page, which now features some pictures submitted by yours truly!

https://www.tumblr.com/stompoutmalaria-mozambique/24464514258/malaria-lessons-with-the-neighborhood-kids

I used “Stomp” materials to play a malaria math game with my neighborhood English club last night. It was great practice with numbers in English, and the information about bed nets & other prevention measures tied in with our session’s theme of “daily routines.” I hope to continue integrating malaria education into all my activities– and will try to take more pictures along the way.

Our national girls’ empowerment network, REDES, also has a sweet website & blog. I just had my very first REDES meeting yesterday, so we haven’t done anything blog-worthy yet, but I enjoyed this post about the impact REDES participation can have on girls’ self-confidence:

A volunteer who got to view her members at work!

I love the description of the REDES members sitting up front & actively participating in their classroom. The members of my group actually have all-girls turmas (classes), because their high school was formerly a Muslim institution. It’ll be interesting to see how that contributes to the group dynamic. Our meetings will also be at 2 pm rather than 5 am, thank goodness!

Both websites provide a broader perspective on the work PCVs are doing across the country. I’m continually impressed by my fellow volunteers’ creativity and commitment, whether they’re dealing with conference logistics or motivating people in their community. Check it out & enjoy!

Since my last post made it clear that church is an important part of my experience, I thought I’d share some of my favorite intercultural moments from mass here.

During especially festive masses, we sing the Our Father in Macua (the local language). There’s a coordinated dance to go with the song– we hold hands and sway back & forth, alternately swinging our arms by our sides during the verses & then lifting them and waving them back and forth during the chorus. Yes, Kate, I can picture the expression on your face if this happened at SJB.

Special occasions also usually include an extra offering, when a parade of people dances up the aisle holding sacks of flour, buckets of potatoes, and sometimes even brooms and machetes. I love watching as live chickens are handed over to the dignified bishop.

An especially striking blend of Catholic and African traditions is when ladies ululate at the moment of transubstantiation (when the bread and wine officially become the body and blood of Christ).

Some of the songs in Macua include the word “mulungo,” which means God. However, in the local language down south, it means white person/foreigner. It was disconcerting to go from being called a mulungo by kids to praising mulungo in church.

Back at home, there was a lot of buzz about the new translation of the mass implemented last year. For example, when the priest says “Peace be with you,” the congregation now responds “And with your spirit” instead of “And also with you.” This was a big deal, I swear. So I was surprised to hear how different parts of the mass are in Portuguese. When the priest says “The peace of the Lord be always with you,” we respond that “The love of Christ unites us.” That puts the controversy over wishing peace to Father’s spirit vs. his body into perspective! The poor Mozambican priests just get a nonsequitur about Christ’s love!

Luckily, 99% of the mass is standard, ensuring that Catholics have one of the shortest services compared to other churches. And since a lot of the “extras” are songs with great harmonies, drumming & clapping, I can’t really complain.

Today was Pentecost, which celebrates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus’ apostles after his death. In Portuguese, it’s called “Pentecostes,” which I think is a really funny word. But leaving that aside, all three of the readings at mass really spoke to where I am right now. That’s something I’d usually write about in my personal journal, but today I decided to share it here.

The first reading was a description of Pentecost according to Luke. He describes the Holy Spirit as tongues of flame that came to rest on each Apostle, enabling them to speak in different languages. A crowd of people from “every nation under heaven” gathered to listen to them (Pentecost coincided with the Jewish festival of Shavuot so Jerusalem was packed) and asked in amazement: “Are not all these people who are speaking Galileans? Then how does each of us hear them in his native language?”

Given that I heard this reading in Portuguese, followed by songs in Macua, the image of overcoming language barriers obviously appealed to me. But the second reading & Gospel had some food for thought as well.

The second reading talked about how the Holy Spirit manifests in each of us, and compared the Church to a body:

There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same spirit;
there are different forms of service but the same Lord;
there are different workings but the same God
who produces all of them in everyone…
As a body is one though it has many parts,
and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body,
so also Christ.

Given that my job description is at times very nebulous, the idea that we all serve in different ways is also comforting.

And finally, in the Gospel John presents a different version of the descent of the Holy Spirit. He describes Jesus coming into a locked room where the frightened disciples had gathered shortly after his death. He said to them, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

Jesus appeared to his disciples several times after he rose from the dead, and “Peace be with you” was his typical greeting. In fact, in this Gospel he repeats it twice. Although he’s sending his followers out to do difficult work, he keeps making the point that he wants them to feel peaceful rather than anxious or scared or stressed. And isn’t peace really the best possible gift he could give?

All three of these readings give us work to carry out: sharing our story with others, finding our function as part of the complex organism that is our community, and following in Jesus’ footsteps of public service. Those aren’t simple or easy assignments. But we’re given some great advice for how to go about it: by speaking the language of those we’re trying to reach; by recognizing our connection to those who have very different gifts from ours; and by feeling at peace.

It’s hard for me, and I’m sure for other people, to identify my specific gifts. I was really good at standardized tests, and I can fall asleep anywhere for any amount of time, but what else do I have going for me?

My mom actually suggested an answer right before I left for Peace Corps. She usually helps me by pointing out where I could do better, but when I came home from running errands in tears one day, she picked up on my anxiety about moving to Africa for two years. She told me that I’d be fine because of my ability to jump into things “at the deep end” with a positive outlook. (Usually when she talks about my “wonderful optimism,” she’s lamenting my time-management skills and underestimation of how long something will take, so it was nice to hear a positive spin on it.)

In the year that’s gone by since that conversation, I’ve thought a lot about what my mom said. Although my previous job in CTA customer service & my current role as a health volunteer are very different, they have a common denominator: I use the skills my mom mentioned. As I spoke to customers about their EXTREMELY SERIOUS transit issues back in Chicago, I had to sympathize with their frustration but also explain CTA policy, all while staying polite and friendly. In Mozambique, it’s also important to understand the point of view of the people I’m working with, from colleagues at the Municipal Council to association members to university students to Peace Corps staff. Being able to “speak their language,” literally and figuratively, is the whole reason I’m here. And as for being positive… well, there’s a reason we talked about “resiliency” and “celebrating small victories” a LOT in training.

What it all boils down to is that mass this morning was a great reminder to serve others by connecting with them, using my specific gifts and talents, and maintaining a positive/peaceful attitude. It’s important to consider not only what we do but how we do it, as a great New York Times op-ed by David Brooks pointed out last week. (For those who prefer to reflect on newspapers articles rather than bible readings, I definitely recommend “The Service Patch.”)

A few months ago, my awesome high school friends sent me a care package that included sparkily star stickers for (I assumed) the kids in my neighborhood. I waited a while to give them out, because I knew it would be a significant undertaking to control distribution. But after an entire afternoon of doling out “estrelinhas,” I did some interesting arithmetic.

There were 70 stickers in the package, and I gave no more than 1 or 2 to each child. Aside from a few randos who showed up once word got out (and a few mothers who shamelessly requested stickers for themselves), the kids at my door were all familiar faces. That means I interact with at least 30 to 40 kids on a regular basis. I can name about 20 off the top of my head, while I’m still working to match others with names and where they live. And while it’s sometimes tough to draw boundaries, I love having these kids as part of my daily life.

I’d also like to think that my interactions with the crianças represent a valuable cultural exchange. They all call me “Tia Laura” instead of “urungo” (whitey), which already puts them ahead of most of their peers in terms of intercultural sensitivity. And while I admire the Mozambican laissez-faire attitude towards raising children, I think they’d benefit from a taste of the self-affirmation that we Americans love to dole out to kids. The older kids think I’m crazy for telling the little ones that their scribbles are “bonito,” but I disregard their giggles and encourage everyone to take home their drawings & show them to mom.

Since I obviously roll deep with the crianças, I thought I’d share a few random anecdotes from our many afternoons together.

Eva (age 8 and one of my best friends): Tia Laura, a lot of guys in the neighborhood want to conquistar (hit on) you.
Me (laughing): Well, do you think I should namorar with (date) them?
Eva: No! When they try to talk to you in the street, you should say ‘I’m not going to talk to you because I don’t know you.’
Me: Eva, you’re so right. We shouldn’t date guys who we meet in the street. We should hold out for a gentleman. Do you know what a gentleman is?
Eva: No.
Me: It’s a guy who will open the door for you, and always let you go first, and, um…
[This was the most awkward explanation I’d attempted since I started talking about the Easter Bunny in church school.]

*****

Me: Look at that moth on the wall by my door; it’s been there since this morning!
Lili: That’s feiticeiro (witchcraft).
Me: No, it’s not, it’s just a moth! …But if it were witchcraft, what would it mean?
Lili (unconvincingly): Oh, nothing, nevermind!

*****

One afternoon I was working out in my living room. As I switched sides in a balance pose, I saw a little face pressed up against my back window and was so startled that I almost fell over. It was Chico, who seems to be a bit of a loner since he often wanders into my yard by himself. After lecturing him about pedir-ing licensa (saying “excuse me”) when he comes into someone else’s yard, I brought my yoga mat outside so we could go “ginastica” together. He eagerly followed along with my “Self” magazine workout as I tried to explain what muscles we were working.

Shortly thereafter, three or four other kids stopped by on their way home from school. They immediately threw aside their backpacks and jumped onto the yoga mat with me. By lying perpendicularly across it, we were all able to finish the workout together.

I went to take a shower and came out to find them still imitating moves on the mat, while a colleague who’d come to drop off some papers looked on in slight concern.

*****

Chico showed up again more recently with two friends, all boys. The three of them were wearing rice sacks tied around them as skirts and dresses. They sashayed into the yard and proceeded to have an honest-to-God, Zoolander-style walkoff. They walked back and forth across the yard swinging their hips and looking incredibly fierce, while I stood in the doorway dying of laughter and wishing another American could see this. It was definitely the highlight of my day.

*****

There’s also a whole other set of conversations that cause doubts as to whether my explanations have any impact & make me want to show them my world map.

Me: Guys, my mom sent these books for me to share with you!
Kids: Is she here?
Me: No, she’s la (far away).
Kids: In Nampula?
Me: …No, in the United States. Where I’m from. We’ve talked about this!

*****

Me: (Talking on the phone in Portuguese)
Eva: Were you talking to your mom?
Me: No, my mom doesn’t speak Portuguese, she only speaks English.

*****

(Two of my Mozambican friends walk out of my house)
Kids: Are those your sisters?
Me: No, my sister’s in America, and she’s white like me.

*****

But the most worrisome criança comment came from my next-door neighbor the other day when she saw my kitten: “Tia Laura, are you going to eat that cat?”

So, April was “Blog About Malaria” Month! April is also… over. Ironically, I spent most of April being sick, which derailed my blogging ambitions.

I only had a few weeks at site between two trainings in Nampula, for Project Design & Management and for REDES (our national network of girls’ groups). It was frustrating to spend that time dealing with a cold/flu/strep throat instead of work projects & marathon training. But that just goes to show the impact of illness on productivity & personal routines. And in Mozambique, “being sick” usually means “malaria.”

For Mozambicans, the consequences of malaria are often more severe than just missing work or class. As explained on the Stomp Out Malaria website (www.stompoutmalaria.org), malaria is the leading cause of death in Mozambique, accounting for 29% of all deaths and 42% of deaths among children under 5 years old.

A few days before the REDES training, my counterpart Julia’s sister got seriously ill with cerebral malaria. She pulled through and Julia was able to make it to the conference, but with she showed up with her niece in tow. Julia explained that her sister had suffered memory loss and was having a difficult recovery, so her daughter was coming to stay in Lichinga.

So, when an awesome care package arrived full of markers & crayons (thanks, Ryan!), it was the perfect opportunity to talk about malaria with the kids in my neighborhood. We drew mosquitos and talked about ways to protect ourselves from them: draining standing water in the quintal, sleeping under a mosquito net, wearing pants and long sleeves at night, and using repellent. The type of mosquito that carries malaria is generally only active at night, so the simple step of sleeping under a net can have a big impact. However, my community health survey found that less than half the families interviewed do so.

I’m excited to continue discussing malaria with community members & finding creative ways to mitigate its impact. The Stomp Out Malaria in Africa initiative, which now involves 3,000 volunteers in 23 Peace Corps countries, is a great framework for sharing ideas and launching small projects at our sites. People hear more about HIV/AIDS and hunger in Africa than about malaria, so programs like Stomp and the President’s Malaria Initiative (PMI) are definitely important.

And, at the very least, hopefully I made the kids understand why they shouldn’t rip the screens on my windows!

It’s been a while since I posted here, and I know my readers are clamoring for an update. Okay, by “readers” I mean “Dan,” and by “clamoring” I mean “calling me out on the fact that his blog is more active than mine, even though he posts only after running a half or full marathon.” Thaaaaat’s embarrassing.

In fact, I was recently reminiscing about the Austin half marathon, which Dan talked me into doing with him last February. Exactly 6 months after that race, I arrived at site in Lichinga. In both cases I had 10 weeks of training under my belt and was ready to see what I could accomplish– in 2 hours or 2 years, respectively. In Austin, the Runner’s World “Break 2:00 or Bust” plan I had (loosely) followed paid off with a 1:55 time.

Here in Peace Corps, it’s harder to measure my performance. But I did post 10 personal and professional goals a few weeks ago, and wanted to share some updates.

I re-read all the Harry Potter books in Portuguese, which has obviously elevated my language skills to near-perfection. Well, it at least taught me some interesting vocab words like “goblin” and “the Dark Lord.” Next up is the Walking Dead graphic novel, which will enable me to plan for the zombie apocalypse with my Mozambican counterparts if that ever becomes necessary. On the local language front, I bought a book of hymns for church & can now sing along with some in Macua. Again, the vocabulary is pretty specific, but it’s great to be able to participate more fully in mass.

I’ve actually turned into a bit of a “church lady,” which as some of you know is consistent with my active participation at SJB, the Sheil Center and St. Clement. I volunteered as a catechist (Sunday school teacher), which plunged me into a plethora of training sessions, planning meetings & weekly rosary sessions. I teach 13- and 14-year-olds in a small chapel right by my house. The classes and planning sessions have included some great conversations with the kids and with my co-catechist Julio, and I’m looking forward to introducing some games or other creative activities. Us PCVs love our icebreak-eees. As a Health volunteer, it’ll also be interesting to work with this age group; each year a few girls apparently are “denounced” because they’re pregnant & can’t receive the sacraments. There’s only one other female catechist out of the dozen or so in my community.

I’ll also be working with girls in the same age range through my REDES group, which I’m incredibly excited to start up. After completing a community health survey that included interviews with adolescent girls & their family members, we’re using that data as the basis for launching a group. REDES stands for “Raparigas em Desenvolvimento, Educação e Saúde” (Girls in Development, Education and Health). The program consists of over 60 groups in every province of Mozambique, led by PCVs & Mozambican counterparts. As Girl Scouts celebrates its 100th birthday in the U.S., I’m looking forward to passing on the lessons I learned in my Scouting days. Focusing on community service, health education, tangible skills & empowerment with 10-20 girls for the rest of my service could make more of an impact than anything else I do here. My counterparts will be Julia and Clara, who are college students & the coordinators of the group who carried out the community health survey. The whole process of planning and implementing the survey was a great experience, so I’m excited to continue working with them.

The survey was such a success that I did another mini one in my own neighborhood this weekend. This time I was working with Samuel, who wants to support HIV+ women and orphaned children through an agriculture/livestock association. We’ve been working together to write the statues and get the organization legalized. Both surveys found that families here suffer from food insecurity, despite the great conditions for growing crops. I think it could make a huge difference to help people plant machambas (gardens) close to their houses where they’re easy to maintain. The secondary org I was placed with (BNUC) works in this area, and we’ll be planting a nursery with some HIV+ senhoras later this week.

In my own yard, I’ve been working with Dias– a former student of my Education sitemates– to grow corn, tomatoes and pumpkins. We also found a tiny lemon tree as we cleared out the other plants! In return, I’m helping Dias with tuition for the Universidade Pedagogica & phone credit to talk to his mom, who lives a few hours away. I hope to add lettuce, couve and onions to the garden & do some more landscaping of the yard in coming months. Right now the pumpkin vines are growing rapidly, so thank goodness I had lunch with my neighbors the other day & learned how to make a “caril” (stew) of pumpkin leaves! It was also great just to share a meal with a Mozambican family, like the good old days with my homestay during training.

I definitely want to keep deepening my relationships with my neighbors and coworkers; it’s a really nice feeling to have “family” here. The ladies at the Municipal Council are planning out the matching capulana fabric we’ll wear on April 7th (Mozambican Women’s Day), which will be a great integration/bonding opportunity as well.

But despite the joys of cooking & capulanas, I’ve found myself craving the concrete sense of accomplishment that I felt crossing the finish line in Austin. The only competition I participated in recently was a Timoney family tally of countries visited. With a paltry 15, I’m considerably behind several aunts, uncles & cousins (not to mention my dad). So, I started googling marathons in neighboring African countries. And when I saw I had a few days to kill between our Midservice conference in August and Sam & Andrew’s wedding in September, it was like the stars aligned. I just submitted a request to run the Victoria Falls Marathon in Zimbabwe (which crosses the bridge over the Falls to briefly enter Zambia) on August 26th! Hopefully I’ll make Dan proud– starting with my ability to peer pressure other PCVs into doing the race as well.

I’m currently prepping a workshop/training for the girls’ group I’ve partnered with for a project at work. (More to come on that later). I wanted to start the day with an icebreaker, and decided to go with “high, low, sideways.” It’s a classic from small groups at church; each participant shares the best, worst and weirdest or most surprising things that’ve happened recently. A good one for starting discussion and building community.

So, in that spirit, here’s a somewhat random high/low/sideways to share with all of you!

HIGH: At some point, volunteers switch from keeping a tally of what we miss from home to building up a list of what we love & will miss about Mozambique. (Okay, fine, the I-miss-Starbucks-and-Thai-food list never goes away, but whatever.) One thing we all appreciate here is fresh, hot bread. The two words “quente pão” are enough to conjure up that delicious smell/taste/feel. And this magical experience can be yours on an almost-daily basis for 2.5 mets!

It helps that my buddy at the bakery will not only give me free extra loaves of bread, but will also bang on the door to the kitchen & make the guys in the back put fresh bread in my bag. It’s a bit awkward when he’s giving the other people in line bread from the regular bins up front, but hey, I’m still putting it in my “high” category.

LOW: I have an empregada who does my laundry once a week. That’s not the “low” part– I hate hand-washing all my clothes, and Lordes is great. I also enjoy seeing her sing & dance in the choir at church. But after she arrived on Tuesday morning, I headed off to work as usual, leaving her to wash everything & hang it out to dry in my backyard. I ended up stuck at the office until fairly late in the afternoon… At which point it had poured down rain on my clothes. Twice. I decided they were still “clean” and just brought them inside to be re-hung this morning for another try. But the sounds of rain pounding on the office roof is pretty stressful when 1) you’re having “one of those days” already and 2) you can’t stop picturing your clothes splattered in mud.

SIDEWAYS: This week, I’ve been giving some mini-computer lessons to my neighbor Inocência. She’s been offered a job as a cashier at the CredElec (where you buy pre-paid energy) and needs to be able to use a computer. She told me she’s literally never touched a computer before. After we talked about the “anatomy” of my laptop, I figured that messing around in Paint would be a good way for her to practice with the mouse. She knew exactly what I was talking about as we discussed flash drives and printers, but when it came time for her to actually touch the mouse, she was incredibly hesitant.

Watching Inocência on the computer was eerily similar to looking over at her kids sitting on my esteira with markers and construction paper. She’s usually the one telling me how to wrap my capulana or which hand to use to eat my xima (NOT the left), but suddenly she was more clueless than a kindergartener. Let’s get serious, little kids at home have iPhones. It was a reminder that even though I get rides from coworkers in their fancy cars & load Rihanna songs on Mozambican friends’ internet cell phones, there’s still a huge disparity in exposure to technology & the opportunities that come along with it.