Nov 24, 2008
Nov 21, 2008
swatting flies
Yesterday I took a field trip to Mopeia; a district west of Quelimane about three hours. This area has been severely impacted by floods in the past and is in danger of future flooding. It sits along the Zambezia River. I was invited to join the director of agriculture to meet with district administrators and WV staff to introduce a new project we are going to implement this coming year. We left Quelimane just before 6am and arrived in Mopeia just as the sun was beginning to get hot. My Portuguese was highly tested as all greetings and meetings were done in Portuguese. My head was spinning. The meetings went well.
In the afternoon, we headed farther into the bush, past small clusters of cyclical mud and grass thatched homes. Our convoy of two white trucks parked along a freshly hoed field. There were a group of ladies awaiting us, gathered beneath the sole tree for some shade from the mid-day sun. I was told they’d been waiting all morning. These were the farmers. A group of families that had been relocated after the floods of Jan 2008 to new homes constructed by the government on higher land. The land they sat on was their new farmland. They waited with anticipation to find out what assistance WV was to provide in turning the freshly hoed soil into productive crops. A translator emerged to translate from Portuguese to their local language. The women sat patiently on the ground, all cradling small babies to their breasts. A handful of men came to join the meeting. And there we sat, underneath a large cashew tree with a local farmers group, in the rich black soil. I began swatting flies. The black soil underneath us was very dry. It was also very black, but with a hint of clay mixed in. I’m told once the rains come, it will be very difficult to work with. I looked down and my pantleg was covered in bright red bugs! I quietly brushed them off and tried not to freak out. :-) The women laughed at one point and I asked what was said – the director was giving a mini lesson on what to do with the money from the crops that will come from this new land. A response was called out and he said “No! No drinks and no new wives!” I noticed a woman was holding a small bottle of gin – she held it up as she laughed.
On our way back towards the town both truck beds transported the women and babies with their colorful wraps and sun umbrellas. We stopped. The land had turned from fertile black soil to dense bush with high and dry brown grass and funky looking trees sporadically popping up over the horizon. Something was wrong. We had a flat tire. Within seconds the trucks emptied out and a handful of men were jacking up the vehicle to change it with a spare. Only the spare had no air! Thankfully the second vehicle had a working spare tire. We were on our way within 15 minutes.
A few observations of the day:
*A green mamba snake was spotted not far from our field meeting - no one was biten
*I asked for a toilet to use upon arriving in Mopeia. The staff members scurried around to find me something acceptable. They pointed to an open-air grass hut. I hesitated and walked in - not knowing what I was walking into. It was the duck pen! And it was full of angry ducks!!! I braced my face from their flight of scurry before using the nicest facility in town. :-)
*Upon pickup of our spare tire being fixed at the local mechanic (aka under a tree) we arrived just as they finished pumping it up – with a bicycle tire! The air gauge was even better – a kick of the boot!
I enjoyed visiting the communities and seeing the projects. I hope to do more of that soon. It was a good field day.
In the afternoon, we headed farther into the bush, past small clusters of cyclical mud and grass thatched homes. Our convoy of two white trucks parked along a freshly hoed field. There were a group of ladies awaiting us, gathered beneath the sole tree for some shade from the mid-day sun. I was told they’d been waiting all morning. These were the farmers. A group of families that had been relocated after the floods of Jan 2008 to new homes constructed by the government on higher land. The land they sat on was their new farmland. They waited with anticipation to find out what assistance WV was to provide in turning the freshly hoed soil into productive crops. A translator emerged to translate from Portuguese to their local language. The women sat patiently on the ground, all cradling small babies to their breasts. A handful of men came to join the meeting. And there we sat, underneath a large cashew tree with a local farmers group, in the rich black soil. I began swatting flies. The black soil underneath us was very dry. It was also very black, but with a hint of clay mixed in. I’m told once the rains come, it will be very difficult to work with. I looked down and my pantleg was covered in bright red bugs! I quietly brushed them off and tried not to freak out. :-) The women laughed at one point and I asked what was said – the director was giving a mini lesson on what to do with the money from the crops that will come from this new land. A response was called out and he said “No! No drinks and no new wives!” I noticed a woman was holding a small bottle of gin – she held it up as she laughed.
On our way back towards the town both truck beds transported the women and babies with their colorful wraps and sun umbrellas. We stopped. The land had turned from fertile black soil to dense bush with high and dry brown grass and funky looking trees sporadically popping up over the horizon. Something was wrong. We had a flat tire. Within seconds the trucks emptied out and a handful of men were jacking up the vehicle to change it with a spare. Only the spare had no air! Thankfully the second vehicle had a working spare tire. We were on our way within 15 minutes.
A few observations of the day:
*A green mamba snake was spotted not far from our field meeting - no one was biten
*I asked for a toilet to use upon arriving in Mopeia. The staff members scurried around to find me something acceptable. They pointed to an open-air grass hut. I hesitated and walked in - not knowing what I was walking into. It was the duck pen! And it was full of angry ducks!!! I braced my face from their flight of scurry before using the nicest facility in town. :-)
*Upon pickup of our spare tire being fixed at the local mechanic (aka under a tree) we arrived just as they finished pumping it up – with a bicycle tire! The air gauge was even better – a kick of the boot!
I enjoyed visiting the communities and seeing the projects. I hope to do more of that soon. It was a good field day.
Nov 18, 2008
practice makes perfect
Last week I had a little dinner party with my new friends. The house I’m staying at has a lady who comes each day to cook and clean for the family. I had not asked her to cook anything for me yet, aside from my lunch salads. But as I was having a dinner party, I thought it would be nice if some things were made ahead of time so the house wouldn’t be so hot (and so I wouldn’t have to cook!). I attempted my Portuguese. The simple meal was going to be pasta and salad and what I thought was chocolate brownies from a box. I would have asked her to make them from scratch, but I couldn’t find any cocoa powder at the local gas station. (where you buy the “exotic” ingredients!) I did however, find what looked like a brownie mix in a box. It was in Portuguese, but there was a picture on the front of this delicious looking fudgy brownie and the instructions on the back said two eggs and oil. Done! Not exactly…:-)
I studied up the key words I needed to ask the cook to make a red tomato sauce, (I wanted to make meatballs but trying to find ground beef is another story! The grocer wanted to sell me what looked like beef patties – which I guess could have worked if I reshaped them) a big green salad, fruit salad, and the brownie mix. I told her I’d cook the pasta when I came home. I had the ingredients out on the table. She replied in Portuguese and we seemed to have understood each other – all except for the brownies. I gave her the box and she didn’t know what to do with it. I turned it over and showed her the instructions – only after did I think to consider she might not be able to read. We found the baking pan and the few ingredients to add. She gave me a hesitant smile and I went off to work.
When I came home at noon, she ushered me into the kitchen and opened the oven door, asking if the brownies were ok. She said they had been in the oven for a long time. I took a look and found the top layer to be very dry and crumbly. Where were the eggs and oil? Hmmm…I smiled and closed the oven door, not sure what to think. I checked on it again before I left to go back to the office and a small patch was starting to turn moist. Interesting.
I came home to a spaghetti dish mixed with a very greasy tomato sauce (which is how they make it here – I knew that, which is why I wanted to make the sauce and noodles separate) a big salad was in the fridge, lots of fruit, and when I opened the oven door…the brownies were made, but they were not brownies! Turns out it was some kind of chocolate cake pudding with a toffee like crust. (though I don’t think it was suppose to be toffee like!) The middle was squishy and good. :-)
My dinner guests arrived and we enjoyed a few laughs over the dessert. One of the guys was trying to be really polite and didn’t want to say anything – but he was using a knife trying to cut the bottom crust of his “brownie” in his ice cream bowl and the entire chunk flew up out of the bowl! We were in tears we were laughing so hard!
Moral of the story…I need to practice my Portuguese more. I was so proud that morning that I had an entire conversation without hand gestures or English words…but the outcome wasn’t quite what I was hoping for. :-)
I studied up the key words I needed to ask the cook to make a red tomato sauce, (I wanted to make meatballs but trying to find ground beef is another story! The grocer wanted to sell me what looked like beef patties – which I guess could have worked if I reshaped them) a big green salad, fruit salad, and the brownie mix. I told her I’d cook the pasta when I came home. I had the ingredients out on the table. She replied in Portuguese and we seemed to have understood each other – all except for the brownies. I gave her the box and she didn’t know what to do with it. I turned it over and showed her the instructions – only after did I think to consider she might not be able to read. We found the baking pan and the few ingredients to add. She gave me a hesitant smile and I went off to work.
When I came home at noon, she ushered me into the kitchen and opened the oven door, asking if the brownies were ok. She said they had been in the oven for a long time. I took a look and found the top layer to be very dry and crumbly. Where were the eggs and oil? Hmmm…I smiled and closed the oven door, not sure what to think. I checked on it again before I left to go back to the office and a small patch was starting to turn moist. Interesting.
I came home to a spaghetti dish mixed with a very greasy tomato sauce (which is how they make it here – I knew that, which is why I wanted to make the sauce and noodles separate) a big salad was in the fridge, lots of fruit, and when I opened the oven door…the brownies were made, but they were not brownies! Turns out it was some kind of chocolate cake pudding with a toffee like crust. (though I don’t think it was suppose to be toffee like!) The middle was squishy and good. :-)
My dinner guests arrived and we enjoyed a few laughs over the dessert. One of the guys was trying to be really polite and didn’t want to say anything – but he was using a knife trying to cut the bottom crust of his “brownie” in his ice cream bowl and the entire chunk flew up out of the bowl! We were in tears we were laughing so hard!
Moral of the story…I need to practice my Portuguese more. I was so proud that morning that I had an entire conversation without hand gestures or English words…but the outcome wasn’t quite what I was hoping for. :-)
da manhã batata
The morning potato. I share office space with two men working in the Dept of Infrastructure Development, in a dark back corner of the building. They are both very sweet and both very eager to learn new English words each day. They also have been teaching me a little Portuguese. Our communication is mostly with hand charades and a few laughs, but we get along very well. Each morning as I make my cup of coffee they offer to share their breakfast or mid-morning snack. After two weeks of trying to explain no bread (and a couple days when I was just starving and ate it anyway!) I think I got it across that I am allergic. They shook their heads in agreement and then asked about “batatas” or potato? Yes, I eat potatoes. So this morning the assistant comes in with a bag full of bread and one potato for me. :-) It’s a cold cooked sweet potato and I’m becoming rather fond of it as a mid-morning snack. He even cuts it up in bite size pieces for me! Ok, so that’s a bit spoiled. But what can I say? To decline would be rude. :-)
Nov 17, 2008
hazards
Africa poses a few different hazards than we have back home. This morning I received a skype message “Hi Kristi, how are you? Myself am little bit okay, am with a leg injury, I fell in the toilet!” Now normally I would laugh at this kind of statement…but it came from one of my colleagues in Mutarara. There are no proper toilets in Mutarara, only pit latrines and open holes. So if he fell in the “toilet” and hurt his leg pretty badly…it means he fell into a giant hole. A very unpleasant giant hole. He is ok. But I didn’t ask for details. I don’t want to know! Watch out for the latrines!!
ridiculousness
There are numerous times throughout the week when I need to walk away from a situation because of its ridiculousness (in my mind) and my lack of patience with the way things work over here. It’s a culture that moves to the beat of a different drum, so to speak. Some days I can dance along and others I just have to walk away. I’m getting better at knowing when to do what. :-)
I have a week of leave coming up. Once my dates were finally approved by HR, I wanted to book my airline tickets as soon as possible. There is one airline in all of Mozambique. They charge ridiculous amounts of money to fly domestic and overbook flights, forget to have flights, change routes mid-air, and enjoy giving customers a hard time when trying to schedule flights. All these things they can get away with – they are the one and only airline.
To book your ticket you must first call one number and ask to make a booking. However, they will not tell you the price. After, and only after, you make the booking then you call another number to find out the price. You then have a few days to purchase the ticket and pick up the eticket at one of their local offices. So I called to book my ticket. They had no English speakers; I find someone in the office to call for me. The booking is made. Then we call on the price. Oh and the price changes too. If you go down to the office and talk to the right person, and pay cash, the price may drop. If however, you go to the office and you look rich, aka mazungo, the price rises. There is no set price for the ticket.
My tickets were booked and I wanted to purchase them before I lost the seats (which also happens frequently with this airline). I was told that it would be beneficial for me to send someone from work to go purchase and pick the tickets, as they may negotiate a lower price. Great! Saves me the trouble of trying to speak in broken Portuguese and hand charades. However, the local airline office only takes cash here in Quelimane. My leave money came in USD. So first it needed to be exchanged. Then the tickets can be purchased. All of this took a total of five days to do. Five days. Friday afternoon I left the office empty handed; still no tickets.
I was pleasantly surprised at around 6p when there was a knock on my door. A delivery man came with my tickets in hand! Yay!! A sigh of relief, the leave is actually coming! (I’ve learned not to get excited too quickly – a colleague of mine wasn’t able to take hers as immigration held her passport hostage for over a month!) I look at the tickets. My name is misspelled on both of them. And it is not spelled the same on either ticket. Two completely different names/spelling on two tickets that were booked, purchased and picked at the same time! One flight continuing the other.
Saturday morning I made a visit to the local airline office here in Quelimane. I need my name corrected and the tickets reprinted. I don’t want the hassle at the airport. I wait two hours to be assisted. There are two people in the office; one lady is completely useless. She does nothing. She won’t assist me. She’s not working. She just sits there. So I wait. The other man decides every other customer should be helped before me and even though I am standing directly in front of him, he still waves me aside and helps the other people first. He even waved people in off the street and helped them before talking with me! This is where my patience starts to disappear. After politely explaining my problem and asking him to please reprint the tickets, he replies with “no, no, no, no, no. This is a real problem! I cannot help you. You have to buy a new ticket.” And I reply with “yes, yes, yes, you will help me and I’m not leaving until you do!” He decided to try and justify his response of it being my fault that they misspelled my name. It’s a western name. When I made the booking, I was standing there while the person spelled out my name! With the Portuguese alphabet! This man was being ridiculous. He wasn’t going to help me. Luckily I had the number of the headquarters office in Maputo and called his boss! They seemed to think there was no problem and they could easily fix my tickets! The Quelimane man was not happy after I had him talk to the Maputo office. He hung up and then said “No problem! No problem! I can fix for you. I promise. No problem!” All with a great big smile on his face. Wonderful! Oh but wait…
It was 11:50a and the office closes at 12noon. They told me it was now closed and they could not help me. I was told to come back on Monday. I hung my head and walked out the door. I tried to smile. I really did. I know if you smile in these situations they tend to do what you are asking quicker. I just didn't have any patience left. I needed to walk away. The entire situation was so ridiculous to me.
I'm still waiting for my tickets.
I have a week of leave coming up. Once my dates were finally approved by HR, I wanted to book my airline tickets as soon as possible. There is one airline in all of Mozambique. They charge ridiculous amounts of money to fly domestic and overbook flights, forget to have flights, change routes mid-air, and enjoy giving customers a hard time when trying to schedule flights. All these things they can get away with – they are the one and only airline.
To book your ticket you must first call one number and ask to make a booking. However, they will not tell you the price. After, and only after, you make the booking then you call another number to find out the price. You then have a few days to purchase the ticket and pick up the eticket at one of their local offices. So I called to book my ticket. They had no English speakers; I find someone in the office to call for me. The booking is made. Then we call on the price. Oh and the price changes too. If you go down to the office and talk to the right person, and pay cash, the price may drop. If however, you go to the office and you look rich, aka mazungo, the price rises. There is no set price for the ticket.
My tickets were booked and I wanted to purchase them before I lost the seats (which also happens frequently with this airline). I was told that it would be beneficial for me to send someone from work to go purchase and pick the tickets, as they may negotiate a lower price. Great! Saves me the trouble of trying to speak in broken Portuguese and hand charades. However, the local airline office only takes cash here in Quelimane. My leave money came in USD. So first it needed to be exchanged. Then the tickets can be purchased. All of this took a total of five days to do. Five days. Friday afternoon I left the office empty handed; still no tickets.
I was pleasantly surprised at around 6p when there was a knock on my door. A delivery man came with my tickets in hand! Yay!! A sigh of relief, the leave is actually coming! (I’ve learned not to get excited too quickly – a colleague of mine wasn’t able to take hers as immigration held her passport hostage for over a month!) I look at the tickets. My name is misspelled on both of them. And it is not spelled the same on either ticket. Two completely different names/spelling on two tickets that were booked, purchased and picked at the same time! One flight continuing the other.
Saturday morning I made a visit to the local airline office here in Quelimane. I need my name corrected and the tickets reprinted. I don’t want the hassle at the airport. I wait two hours to be assisted. There are two people in the office; one lady is completely useless. She does nothing. She won’t assist me. She’s not working. She just sits there. So I wait. The other man decides every other customer should be helped before me and even though I am standing directly in front of him, he still waves me aside and helps the other people first. He even waved people in off the street and helped them before talking with me! This is where my patience starts to disappear. After politely explaining my problem and asking him to please reprint the tickets, he replies with “no, no, no, no, no. This is a real problem! I cannot help you. You have to buy a new ticket.” And I reply with “yes, yes, yes, you will help me and I’m not leaving until you do!” He decided to try and justify his response of it being my fault that they misspelled my name. It’s a western name. When I made the booking, I was standing there while the person spelled out my name! With the Portuguese alphabet! This man was being ridiculous. He wasn’t going to help me. Luckily I had the number of the headquarters office in Maputo and called his boss! They seemed to think there was no problem and they could easily fix my tickets! The Quelimane man was not happy after I had him talk to the Maputo office. He hung up and then said “No problem! No problem! I can fix for you. I promise. No problem!” All with a great big smile on his face. Wonderful! Oh but wait…
It was 11:50a and the office closes at 12noon. They told me it was now closed and they could not help me. I was told to come back on Monday. I hung my head and walked out the door. I tried to smile. I really did. I know if you smile in these situations they tend to do what you are asking quicker. I just didn't have any patience left. I needed to walk away. The entire situation was so ridiculous to me.
I'm still waiting for my tickets.
Nov 16, 2008
it's like living at the beach (-) the water
I step outside and instantly I have sweat pooling down my face. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You’re entire body is wet and dripping within minutes; as if you just took a shower and stepped outside without toweling off. It doesn’t matter what you wear. It is sooooo hot here! And humid. Very very humid. Imagine being at the beach on a very hot summer day, with no shade and no breeze and no water. Its kinda like that. Only much much hotter!
I am told November and December are the hottest months. Once the rains come it begins to cool down. I’m torn on my desire for the rains. Half of the country is in a drought and in desperate need of the rains. The hunger season has begun and is likely to be long due to the lack of rain. However, if it does rain, there is a high likelihood of devastating floods and another humanitarian disaster in the north. So I can’t decide if I want it to rain or not.
I need to remember to put on sunscreen before I leave for work in the mornings. Last week I got burnt in the 10 minutes it took me to walk to the office!
I am told November and December are the hottest months. Once the rains come it begins to cool down. I’m torn on my desire for the rains. Half of the country is in a drought and in desperate need of the rains. The hunger season has begun and is likely to be long due to the lack of rain. However, if it does rain, there is a high likelihood of devastating floods and another humanitarian disaster in the north. So I can’t decide if I want it to rain or not.
I need to remember to put on sunscreen before I leave for work in the mornings. Last week I got burnt in the 10 minutes it took me to walk to the office!
Nov 10, 2008
portuguese lesson #1
Bom dia! Como estas? (Goodmorning! How are you?)
*Estou bem, obridgada! E voce? (I am fine, thankyou. And you?)
Bem obrigada. Como te Chamas? (Fine, thankyou. What is your name?)
*Eu chama-me Kristi. E voce? (My name is Kristi. And you?)
Eu chama-me Nelson. Prazer te conhecer. (My name is Nelson. Nice to meet you.)
*Prazer te conhecer. Obrigada! (Nice to meet you. Thankyou!)
*Estou bem, obridgada! E voce? (I am fine, thankyou. And you?)
Bem obrigada. Como te Chamas? (Fine, thankyou. What is your name?)
*Eu chama-me Kristi. E voce? (My name is Kristi. And you?)
Eu chama-me Nelson. Prazer te conhecer. (My name is Nelson. Nice to meet you.)
*Prazer te conhecer. Obrigada! (Nice to meet you. Thankyou!)
random
*There's a man hanging upside down outside my window. He's painting the house. Pink. I don't know why he's upside down...
*I made the mistake of walking past a bakery on my way home today. The smell of fresh bread caught my attention and now my belly would like to explode. :-) I also smothered the delicious homemade bread with some much coveted peanut butter.
*I am housesitting for the next two weeks. There are two orange tabby cats that come with the house that need to be fed. I am not a cat lover, so I closed the door to the bedroom and locked it tight last night. The first night I was here I did not do that and the cat pushed its way in and jumped on me in the middle of the night. I dreamt a repeat of the rooster and awoke panicking that I actually did something to the cat! I hadn't...it was sleeping peacefully at the foot of the bed. :-) But last night, two cats were in the house. I was sleeping soundly until I heard this aweful cry/screech/scream as if one of them was being attacked. The house was locked up so I decided they must be fighting each other. I wasn't getting out of bed to find out! But to my surprise this morning, it was the aggressive cat that actually had new wounds, a patch of missing hair and fresh scratches on its face. The gentle cat would not have done that. I wonder if I should be worried there could be another animal I don't yet know about in the house?! Yikes!
*My fridge is now stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables of all kinds imaginable!
*I am wearing tennis shoes. Those of you who know me, know I hate wearing shoes of any kind other than my comfy sandals. However, it is SO HOT here that the heat has melted my favorite pair of flip flops. There is not an indent, but an actual imprint of my foot on the bed of my sandals!
*The cat food I must hourly dish out is made of some sort of fatty goup and whole sardines. Its kept in a mini fridge - next to the bowl of white chicken feet I am to feed the monsters as a treat! Evidently dry cat food is not enough for African house cats. :-)
*I need to wash my laundry tonight. In a bucket. There are no washing machines. And the house lady doesn't do laundry. That sounded strange to me too...:-)
*I made the mistake of walking past a bakery on my way home today. The smell of fresh bread caught my attention and now my belly would like to explode. :-) I also smothered the delicious homemade bread with some much coveted peanut butter.
*I am housesitting for the next two weeks. There are two orange tabby cats that come with the house that need to be fed. I am not a cat lover, so I closed the door to the bedroom and locked it tight last night. The first night I was here I did not do that and the cat pushed its way in and jumped on me in the middle of the night. I dreamt a repeat of the rooster and awoke panicking that I actually did something to the cat! I hadn't...it was sleeping peacefully at the foot of the bed. :-) But last night, two cats were in the house. I was sleeping soundly until I heard this aweful cry/screech/scream as if one of them was being attacked. The house was locked up so I decided they must be fighting each other. I wasn't getting out of bed to find out! But to my surprise this morning, it was the aggressive cat that actually had new wounds, a patch of missing hair and fresh scratches on its face. The gentle cat would not have done that. I wonder if I should be worried there could be another animal I don't yet know about in the house?! Yikes!
*My fridge is now stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables of all kinds imaginable!
*I am wearing tennis shoes. Those of you who know me, know I hate wearing shoes of any kind other than my comfy sandals. However, it is SO HOT here that the heat has melted my favorite pair of flip flops. There is not an indent, but an actual imprint of my foot on the bed of my sandals!
*The cat food I must hourly dish out is made of some sort of fatty goup and whole sardines. Its kept in a mini fridge - next to the bowl of white chicken feet I am to feed the monsters as a treat! Evidently dry cat food is not enough for African house cats. :-)
*I need to wash my laundry tonight. In a bucket. There are no washing machines. And the house lady doesn't do laundry. That sounded strange to me too...:-)
Nov 9, 2008
sunday
I am finding that the town of Quelimane awakes at 5am. This morning I awoke to the sound a beautiful choir singing at the cathedral across the street. They are still singing and it is mid-afternoon. It is now the sound of children’s voices I hear. I enjoyed a morning fellowship group at a local neighbors house and met some more people this morning. Our electricity has been off since 6am, so I decided a Sunday nap was in order. The windows in the house are open and there is a nice breeze. The front yard is covered in mango and lemon trees. I had a couple ripe mangos that fell from the tree last night. The provincial elections are campaigning at this time and trucks full of supporters are blaring music and campaign advertisements driving up and down the streets. I’m sitting in the office overlooking the front yard, watching children chase each other down the street, bicyclists cutting across the church yard and neighbors stopping by to say hello. It is a beautiful day in Quelimane.
This morning at the church fellowship we sang some older hymns and choruses that took me back home. I am always blessed when something as simple as a chorus can bring my back to my family for a short moment. I am in Africa and I really enjoy living here, but there are days I question if the awe and happiness of being here is worth the sacrifice of being so far from my family and friends. And then there come moments when something familiar will come around and remind me that even if I am so far away, I’m still a part of their lives, as they are of mine. Church always brings me back home. And you’d think it would make me feel more alone, reminding me of where I am and where I am not; but it seems to do the opposite. It reminds me of the wonderful people I have in my life who are supporting me. It reminds me that we are all part of a greater family. And to be in a place that as beautiful as it is, is unbelievably poor and full of injustice to so many people, it is a comfort to know that there is a greater power at work. The beautiful songs of the choir across the street have been singing all day. They must believe in something. There is a sense of community here. It is a beautiful thing to watch from the outside and even greater to feel the embrace on the inside.
This morning at the church fellowship we sang some older hymns and choruses that took me back home. I am always blessed when something as simple as a chorus can bring my back to my family for a short moment. I am in Africa and I really enjoy living here, but there are days I question if the awe and happiness of being here is worth the sacrifice of being so far from my family and friends. And then there come moments when something familiar will come around and remind me that even if I am so far away, I’m still a part of their lives, as they are of mine. Church always brings me back home. And you’d think it would make me feel more alone, reminding me of where I am and where I am not; but it seems to do the opposite. It reminds me of the wonderful people I have in my life who are supporting me. It reminds me that we are all part of a greater family. And to be in a place that as beautiful as it is, is unbelievably poor and full of injustice to so many people, it is a comfort to know that there is a greater power at work. The beautiful songs of the choir across the street have been singing all day. They must believe in something. There is a sense of community here. It is a beautiful thing to watch from the outside and even greater to feel the embrace on the inside.
Nov 8, 2008
old habits
There is a divide in the support of disaster response to people who live in an area that disasters continue to recur. There is a pattern among the beneficiaries that surface. A habit in which people succumb to. I met with some fellow aid workers this weekend and we were talking of the floods that occur each year here in Mozambique and I asked what I should be expecting when they come. I received the same response I got from co-workers when I asked this question. I still have no answers. They laugh and say we run around like chickens with our heads cut off. One man described the situation as a triangle. A deprivating play of power and resources. The people, the relief organizations, and the government are all playing each other for the same resources – playing the disaster to their favor. The disaster strikes and the relief organizations are granted money to aid in the people. The government wants the money and therefore constricts the use of it without their involvement, giving them the power on how it may be used. The people also want the money or rather the resources that they know will come from it. It is said that many households have two homes they live in. One is up on higher land, the other is down on the riverbank waiting to be destroyed and rebuilt each year. This concept of working the welfare system is not new. And its not something that only happens in wealthier countries that have a monetary welfare system in place.
I have not gone through a disaster or flood season here, so I have yet to know the truth on these theories. However, it is the argument that is brought up at every meeting and class on international development. How much are we actually helping people by giving handouts – are we hurting them more by coming in with loads of foreign aid that carry restrictions and therefore cause divides upon the actual development within communities? I can see the triangle in theory. This particular individual I was talking with had worked in disaster response for a number of years and became too upset with the way people play against the disasters to continue working in this job. He felt more damage was being done. If after a disaster strikes, households are rescued, provided new housing and livelihood assets, and these people know that the disaster will reoccur next year – where is the motivation to stay in the new house in a new area and have to work hard at rebuilding their lives when they can return to what they know and receive more aid once it happens again?
My take on this, which may change after I work in this area longer, is that we can recognize these bad habits, these behaviors of deceit and cheating the system, but we can also recognize the immediate and very real human needs that do occur if and when a disaster strikes. And hopefully we can communicate those needs to receive funding that will save peoples lives. You can’t fake waters rising or damage done by a cyclone or hungry bellies during the hunger period. A doctor does not turn away a patient because his bad habit caused a dreadful disease. He treats the patient. And hopefully works on educating and promoting healthier habits to prevent sickness and disease in the future. So if there is money available and it is only allocated to do specific activities that someone thousands of miles away thinks is relevant to a place they have never been, why not take the money? And then educate not only the beneficiaries to try and change bad habits, but also the donors with the reality of where the needs lie and what could be done with that money to bring about positive changes and assistance. Someone is always going to cheat the system. It is our human nature to look out for ourselves. We also look out for each other though and if we can work together to create supporting practices and lifestyles, I would hope the bad habits would start to minimize. I am choosing to be optimistic. Someone once told me, there is good in every one. Look for that good and dwell on that good. And it will be a lot easier to work with the difficult people.
I have not gone through a disaster or flood season here, so I have yet to know the truth on these theories. However, it is the argument that is brought up at every meeting and class on international development. How much are we actually helping people by giving handouts – are we hurting them more by coming in with loads of foreign aid that carry restrictions and therefore cause divides upon the actual development within communities? I can see the triangle in theory. This particular individual I was talking with had worked in disaster response for a number of years and became too upset with the way people play against the disasters to continue working in this job. He felt more damage was being done. If after a disaster strikes, households are rescued, provided new housing and livelihood assets, and these people know that the disaster will reoccur next year – where is the motivation to stay in the new house in a new area and have to work hard at rebuilding their lives when they can return to what they know and receive more aid once it happens again?
My take on this, which may change after I work in this area longer, is that we can recognize these bad habits, these behaviors of deceit and cheating the system, but we can also recognize the immediate and very real human needs that do occur if and when a disaster strikes. And hopefully we can communicate those needs to receive funding that will save peoples lives. You can’t fake waters rising or damage done by a cyclone or hungry bellies during the hunger period. A doctor does not turn away a patient because his bad habit caused a dreadful disease. He treats the patient. And hopefully works on educating and promoting healthier habits to prevent sickness and disease in the future. So if there is money available and it is only allocated to do specific activities that someone thousands of miles away thinks is relevant to a place they have never been, why not take the money? And then educate not only the beneficiaries to try and change bad habits, but also the donors with the reality of where the needs lie and what could be done with that money to bring about positive changes and assistance. Someone is always going to cheat the system. It is our human nature to look out for ourselves. We also look out for each other though and if we can work together to create supporting practices and lifestyles, I would hope the bad habits would start to minimize. I am choosing to be optimistic. Someone once told me, there is good in every one. Look for that good and dwell on that good. And it will be a lot easier to work with the difficult people.
Nov 7, 2008
cock-a-doodle-do
This morning I awoke to the sound of a cock-a-doodle-do outside my window. It was still dark outside. The clock flashed 5am! I willed myself back to sleep and fell into an early morning dream. In my dream, the rooster was again waking me up in the early morning, before I was ready to greet the day. My brother was staying with me. Over our morning cup of coffee, after I complained about the rooster, he asked if I wanted to buy the rooster? Shall he go to the neighbor’s gate and offer them money for the bird? Why on earth would I want to buy such a dreadful creature, I ask?! Ahh…he grins. :-) If I own the rooster, I can do with it whatever I please. I sent him straight away to buy the bird! Andrew came back – holding it by its feet in one hand and its cock-a-doodle-do in the other! We had roasted chicken for lunch and I enjoyed an extra hour of sleep the next morning. :-) Too bad it was just a dream…
Nov 5, 2008
in the presence
Some people say they can feel prayers being lifted or when they are in the presence of angels. I am feeling extremely blessed this week. For my family and friends who have been praying, I am grateful to you. Thank you.
Sunday I moved to a small town on the northeastern coast of Mozambique, a place called Quelimane. My time in Mutarara was challenging and as much as I loved living the village life for a short time, I realized I need a few more people in my life who I can communicate with and a few more comforts to indulge in (running water, electricity, aircon, fruits and vegetables – to name a few :-)). I have found this town to be full of welcoming smiles not only on the streets, but also in people’s homes and in the office. It is only Wednesday and I’ve been invited to homes for lunch and dinner every day this week! I even have plans for the weekend! (I had briefly forgotten what weekends were – days were measured by the excitement of the crocodiles in the village!) I am overwhelmed by the kindness of the international community and by the church community here; it is something I had not yet experienced these last few months in Maputo or Mutarara.
My first day in a new office and a new town I was invited to a colleagues home to meet his family and have lunch. We all sat down together at a big table and had lively conversations around his youngest sons’ fascinations with cyclones and hurricanes and Madagascar. :-) It was really nice to share a meal with a family. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that until I sat down around their table. Later that day I was introduced to a local pastor and his wife who open their homes to short-term missionaries. I met several more people and played with a four-month old baby girl. She fell in love with me and was so adorable! Today I have been invited to housesit for a colleague for the next couple weeks – in a big cool African compound with a garden and dogs and a very extensive DVD collection! And at the present I am looking for a home to call my own. I looked at a couple of apartments last night with a local university student who spoke excellent English and was so kind to take me around town. I didn’t feel very comfortable in either of the apartments, so as I’ve been given a couple weeks to housesit, I will keep looking.
I have met several people on the street today that wanted to meet me. They had already heard of my story and wanted to invite me to have dinner with their families. And this morning at breakfast I met an American who is staying in the same motel I am – turns out he also went to college in Minneapolis and is now working with Samaritans Purse. He had also heard about me from someone and wanted to introduce himself –I guess the missionaries like to talk. :-) Oh and I met the US warden today – he invited me to a concert in the park on Saturday to meet the other young ngo workers. I have been longing for company and it seems that I may be in just the right place!
I am feeling blessed.
Sunday I moved to a small town on the northeastern coast of Mozambique, a place called Quelimane. My time in Mutarara was challenging and as much as I loved living the village life for a short time, I realized I need a few more people in my life who I can communicate with and a few more comforts to indulge in (running water, electricity, aircon, fruits and vegetables – to name a few :-)). I have found this town to be full of welcoming smiles not only on the streets, but also in people’s homes and in the office. It is only Wednesday and I’ve been invited to homes for lunch and dinner every day this week! I even have plans for the weekend! (I had briefly forgotten what weekends were – days were measured by the excitement of the crocodiles in the village!) I am overwhelmed by the kindness of the international community and by the church community here; it is something I had not yet experienced these last few months in Maputo or Mutarara.
My first day in a new office and a new town I was invited to a colleagues home to meet his family and have lunch. We all sat down together at a big table and had lively conversations around his youngest sons’ fascinations with cyclones and hurricanes and Madagascar. :-) It was really nice to share a meal with a family. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that until I sat down around their table. Later that day I was introduced to a local pastor and his wife who open their homes to short-term missionaries. I met several more people and played with a four-month old baby girl. She fell in love with me and was so adorable! Today I have been invited to housesit for a colleague for the next couple weeks – in a big cool African compound with a garden and dogs and a very extensive DVD collection! And at the present I am looking for a home to call my own. I looked at a couple of apartments last night with a local university student who spoke excellent English and was so kind to take me around town. I didn’t feel very comfortable in either of the apartments, so as I’ve been given a couple weeks to housesit, I will keep looking.
I have met several people on the street today that wanted to meet me. They had already heard of my story and wanted to invite me to have dinner with their families. And this morning at breakfast I met an American who is staying in the same motel I am – turns out he also went to college in Minneapolis and is now working with Samaritans Purse. He had also heard about me from someone and wanted to introduce himself –I guess the missionaries like to talk. :-) Oh and I met the US warden today – he invited me to a concert in the park on Saturday to meet the other young ngo workers. I have been longing for company and it seems that I may be in just the right place!
I am feeling blessed.
Nov 2, 2008
internet...a lack of
The internet seems to have its own temperment here in Mozambique. At the office we have been lucky to have it come on and off during the day; but outside the office is another story! I have tried to keep up with emails, but this blog and my weekly webcam dates over skype have been missing! I've missed them!
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