Sunday started with a sunrise. And a raging hangover. I was up for the first time at 5:30, just as the sun was rising over the islands off of Vilanculos. I admired the scenery, and decided that I might as well go back to bed for a bit.
Up for the second time around 7:30, I gathered my things in preparation for another long travel day. While I helped sort out who owed money to whom, Richie went into the villa and confirmed there was a chapa directly to Mambone. By 9:30, we were at the chapa stand and by 10:30, we were on the road. We started out slowly, stopping every couple hundred meters in search of more people, but few were to be found.
Outside of the amp that was directly under my seat and pounding terrible Mozambican music, this was probably the most comfortable chapa ride we have had since arriving. For most of the ride, we were sitting three to a row comfortably instead of the customary cramped four per row. The driver made good time. But this was the easy part of the trip. It’s difficult knowing that we have to make the walk back into Machanga.
Pretty tired from the day of travel and the party the night before, we had a pretty relaxing afternoon. As soon as we arrived, we ate delicious Mambone bread and an almost legitimate salad of cucumber, tomato, and onion. I also had an apple for the first time in a while. All these veggies and fruit can’t be good for my system. Right after I finished eating, we started preparing for dinner bit by bit. We had all of our regular ingredients for tomato sauce plus some rare additions – carrots, bell pepper, and canned mushrooms all from Vilanculos. I predicted it would be the best sauce to date; Richie thanked me for jinxing it.
Just as we were about to start cooking, my parents called. Richie was stuck on dinner duty. I had a nice conversation with my parents, a lot of it revolving around their trip out here. Yes, it is months and months away, but it is nice for all of us to have something to look forward to in the long term.
Jinxes, be damned. The sauce was delicious. We made our regular garlic bread with newly acquired olive oil from Vilanculos. After eating, we watched a little bit of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” before hitting the hay, committing a minor crime of going to bed with the energy still on.
We have found that when we have small milestones, trips, or activities to look forward to, the time passes much more quickly. We know that we get to leave every couple of weeks for money, and trimesters last between nine and 12 weeks. But we each have our own milestones that we use. This morning’s usually mundane activity of brushing my teeth was a little more special than usual because I hit a milestone. Before I left, my mom packed me with ten toothbrushes. Being here for about 100 weeks (and since it is best to change brushes regularly), I get to use a new toothbrush every 10 weeks. I went into the reserves, cracked open my set of brushes, and enjoyed a new brush. It’s just a way to keep us sane.
Monday was an easy day for both Richie and me. We both gave exams, which meant that neither of us had to actually teach. It was time to see how much these kids learned or have not learned. But before we gave the tests, we had to actually write them out. While it rained and with the sunlight at a minimum, I wrote out my exams by candlelight on big paper.
Monday was a milestone day for another reason. It was Larium day, and Richie and I are both running low on Larium. Low enough that we need to text the medical office to send more. We get 10 or 12 pills per packet, so getting so close to the end of a packet is just another way to know time is passing.
Giving exams is boring and slow. A lot of the kids cheat in one way or another. There are a lot of shift eyes. But I think I was able to keep the standard cheat sheets down to a minimum. This test was pretty “un-cheat-sheet-able”; they either knew it or they didn’t.
After six periods of test giving, I set back to see the results. The range was huge: out of 20 points, at least one person received a three and there were a couple of 20s scattered in there. It was quickly apparent who came to class and who didn’t, who participated in class and who didn’t. On the whole though, the students did pretty well.
When the energy came on, another favor asked two favors of me: if I could teach a calculus lesson for his Physics class; and if I could type up an exam for him. The latter I could do with no problem. The former is going to be a challenge. First I have to brush up on my calculus. Then I have to actually understand what is going on in this all-Portuguese book. There’s no bullshitting around this language test. As I was trying to figure all of this out, my grandfather called. So there were three things going on in my head: speaking in English, reading in Portuguese, and doing math. My head nearly exploded.
I returned to the house to help Richie out with dinner. I had started preparing when his family called. Then he took over for a bit while I was talking, and then I took over again. The French toast we made was some of the best yet. And with our new stock of syrup, we were quite satisfied. We finished of a disc of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” and went to bed.
For the last couple nights, it had been cool, and last night was no exception. Once again, we slept without sweating (at least while we were awake in bed), but we both woke up drowsy. Richie headed to the market while I typed up the teacher’s test and figured out the rest of the trimester.
Just before we started to cook up lunch, a man carrying shrimp came around. We knew that we were making spaghetti later, so we figured we would get some. The man told us that a plate was 20 metacais – about 80 cents. As he piled the shrimp onto this plate, I thought to myself “What would Forrest Gump do with all of this shrimp?” I think there was enough shrimp for the village. So we are now throwing shrimp in everything. We put it in our eggs for lunch, which was quite delicious. And it will go in the tomato sauce for dinner.
Classes went well today. I taught favorites to one set of twelfth graders while the other twelfth graders took an exam. My eleventh graders got the lesson on “should” and “ought to” that the twelfth graders got earlier in the trimester. It is apparent that the students are getting more and more comfortable, both with my teaching style and with the language. I returned home after teaching, graded the most recent set of tests, and started preparing for dinner.
In between grading and dinner, I talked to one of my students who helps some teachers at another house. I asked him if he knew any students who could help Richie and me around the house. We can do most everything here, but there are some things like deshelling shrimp and washing clothes that we just don’t want to do. The kid said that he would help out with another kid. Perfect.
Having shrimp in the pasta sauce was delicious. It was definitely a twist on what we are used to. We’ll probably have one more day until this shrimp goes bad – not having a refrigerator is kind of tough. But if we waste a little bit of shrimp, we are not going to cry over the 20 cents.
I slept through the night (I think we might finally be getting comfortable here), which including a massive storm. Richie said it happened around 5 or 5:30 but hell if I know; I was gone. I went outside and noticed that our buckets had been filled. I asked Richie if he put them out, and he said no. Curious, to say the least. Then the kid from last night came over, and I knew my answer. I told him that we didn’t need that much help, just with laundry and some other small things when needed.
It took two days, but I finally figured out how to get all of students learning the same amount of content for the trimester. It sounds like it shouldn’t be challenging, but I have four groups of eleventh graders, two of which started two weeks late. They meet five times per week. My twelfth graders meet three times a week, so I have to teach everything to them faster.
Luckily, the groups that started late are pretty quick learners. One group especially is really powering through the material. We were supposed to meet three times today, but we got everything done in two sessions. The last session is supposed to be the end of their day and the end of mine, so if we can cover everything, I’m happy to let them go early. Everybody wins.
I finally got my hands on the class lists for twelfth grade. Just before energy came on, I started popping the names into an Excel sheet. The twelfth graders did a nice job on the test. About 90 percent of them passed the test, which is definitely more than I expected. I am happily pleased. We will see soon if the eleventh graders are as good.
Richie took care of making our baby formula pancakes. We slightly altered the recipe and they came out pretty good. We watched a little “Scrubs” and went to bed.
I didn’t have a lot to do Thursday morning, and it was kind of nice. I was able to just sit back with no real obligations except for going to the market. That, however, proved to be amazing on this day. I went on the hunt for beer in preparation for the weekend and for making onion rings. What I stumbled upon shocked me: legitimately cold beer. I came back from the market as quickly as possible and I think Richie was as stunned as I was. We both knew exactly what we had to do. There is no reason to waste a cold beer.
We killed our beers and started preparing for lunch. Like I said, we didn’t have a lot to do. Mostly, we just waited out the clock until we could actually cook.
Classes went pretty well. My last class of the day meets for two consecutive periods, and thankfully they are a group of quick learners. I can usually get in all the material I need in one period instead of the two. It’s probably not the best thing to do, but considering they outperformed all the other classes on the exam, I’m okay with it.
As I started preparing dinner before, we received some mail. A big envelope had the words “Richie & Lee – Os Americanos, Machanga.” The person bringing the mail had no problem finding us. The only thing that would have made it better is if it had said “Os Muzungus.” I received four receipts for packages and a birthday card from my parents. They were prepared and sent a “Happy belated card,” but amazingly, it got here on time. I would have done the same thing.
After dinner, I was summoned into the computer lab again. Some people just needed some documents printed for Beira. I found out that people were heading to Beira over the weekend, which was good news. I sent the receipts with some money up with the people going to Beira. Hopefully I will receive those packages next week.
Richie and I knew we were in for a big day Friday. We were committed to going out to the villa for a drink or two with some colleagues. But first, I had to work. I read through the physical chemistry manual that the teacher had given me, but I wasn’t of much help. It has been a long time since I learned calculus, and differential equations weren’t exactly my strong suit.
I had four classes in the afternoon, all with my late-starting groups. Just like yesterday, I had a double class to end the day with a fast-learning group. I was able to get everything done in one period. Everybody was happy to leave early. Upon my return, I put in one last set of grades from exams. All of the classes performed with amazing consistency – an average of 13 out of 20, with 85 percent passing (passing here is 10 or more).
Then the drinking began. We had four beers left from yesterday’s beer run and we figured we could pregame before heading out. The idea would have been better if it wasn’t on an empty stomach. We started dinner only slightly buzzed, making decent pancakes and some pre-packaged pasta.
It was really nice to get out into the villa during the evening. It is a little surprising that it took us nearly 11 weeks to go out at night. Usually, by 9:30, we are exhausted. But with some liquid help, we made it until midnight. It was a pretty fun night. One of the teachers we went out with spoke decent English, so we kept bouncing in between languages. It was a good exchange of language.
All the fun from last night created a little bit of mayhem in the morning. I was up at 6 with a massive hangover. Richie says he woke up with his head on the floor. I don’t even know how that is possible. We were committed to going to Mambone, but we needed to recover first. We both went back to bed for a bit to fight the hangovers.
We kind of got our day going around 8:30. I cut up some onions and lit carvão to cook up some onion rings and eggs. All the batter on the onion rings definitely helped us. We were feeling a little better, but still exhausted. Once again, we were down for the count.
Take three. Finally, we were awake for good around 10. We were off to Mambone with a couple of other teachers and some students. The idea was to go drinking again, but Richie and I both thought it wouldn’t be a great idea.
Speaking of things that were not great ideas: following the teachers on a different path to Mambone was a terrible idea. One would think that they would know the best way to get to the river because they live here. We were wrong. At various points during the trek – and let me emphasize, this was a trek – we walked through disgusting water, ankle-deep mud, and scalding hot sand. Oh yea, and this path was much longer to the river. Terrible idea. We thought we had walked long enough that we were actually in Mambone. And then we hit the river. Terrible, terrible idea.
Once we were in Mambone, things were a little awkward. Some people – like us – went to buy things; others started drinking. After about an hour, we all settled at a bar. Richie and I chose not to drink. It was probably the best idea all day. Even being at the bar though was a little awkward. Everyone was speaking really quickly, sometimes not even in Portuguese, leaving Richie and I pretty much in the dark. We want on search of a hat for me, but I got massively sidetracked. I saw an old-school Latrell Sprewell Golden State Warriors jersey. For 150 meticais – 6 dollars – I had to buy it. I also got a pretty sweet England soccer jersey for the same price.
By the time we got back, people were ready to head back. The others wanted to go back the same way we came. We told them we would race them home. And in spite of sitting on the Mambone side of the river for 30 minutes waiting for a canoe, we still got home 20 minutes ahead of the others. We felt slightly redeemed.
Both Richie and I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing. Richie napped until the energy came on. I cleaned up around the house and fashioned a rather excellent pants hanger out of a couple sticks and some wire. It was suffice until we can buy more hangers in Maputo.
Oh yes, Maputo. We have a meeting in Maputo the second week in March. We are already counting down the days. But between now and then, there is a birthday (mine) to celebrate, a visit from our program director, and a week’s worth of teaching.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Year 1 - Week 10: Big Rig Riding
The best way I can characterize my thoughts on the town of Mambone is that I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love that it is so close. I love that we can pretty much go at will, albeit it requires a lot of walking. I love that it pretty much has everything that Machanga doesn’t have. And at the same time, I hate Mambone for these exact reasons. Considering we were rained out yesterday, we were committed to going, rain or shine.
But before we left, I had some laundry to do. I have gone way too many weeks in a row without washing my sheets. It just seems like such a hopeless activity. They are drenched in sweat when I wake up and they are drenched in sweat when I go to bed at night, so what’s the point? And I have to say, as I washed my sheets, I could not believe the color that the water became. I would say it was a combination of brown, black and green.
It appeared to be a beautiful day. My sheets should have dried fast and we would have clear sailing to Mambone. Or not. As we were crossing the river – which appears to have filled out over the last couple of weeks – it started to rain. And when we walked from the river to the vila, it started to rain more. The sad thing is even when it’s raining, it’s always sunnier in Mambone.
We did our shopping, finding more things than we anticipated: tomatoes and bread which we expected, a new power outlet which we did not. And as if you needed to ask, yes, the bread was much better than anything that we could get here. By the time we finished our shopping, the rain was still going, so we decided to wait it out over cold beers, the real reason we go to Mambone. Don’t judge us for drinking at 9:30 AM. You would be too.
Our beers polished off, and the rain having come to halt, we made our way back across the river, and then from the river back to Machanga. We got back just in time to cook lunch, which was our regular potato pancakes and eggs.
I filled out the afternoon mostly with reading, with a brief intermission to put in the new power outlet. Now, I’m not exactly an electrical engineer, so either our power outlet was going to work, or the house was going to explode. To be honest, we would be okay with either. The energy came on, and with a stroke of luck, the outlet worked. Great success! We moved the stovetop, which had been in Richie’s room, back into the kitchen.
Also of note is I had another discussion with the assistant directors about my workload. With the splitting of the 11th grade classes, I now had 35 classes a week to teach, way more than I expected and more than Peace Corps expects of us. I told him I’d be happy to teach each of the classes, if we reduced 11th grade from five times per week to three, but that couldn’t be done. He promised that the situation would be resolved.
I made my now-famous garlic bread and tomato sauce and we dined like kings. As I was eating, my parents called. There are few things that can keep me from eating, but having family call is one of them. I had a good conversation with them. I was especially excited by the fact that they had already booked their tickets to visit.
The last thing my dad said on the phone was “Well, I hope the wind blows the right way for you.” And boy did it. Just before our power went out, a hurricane-like wind came through Machanga. And then the rain came. And then the cold came. It was glorious. For another night, I didn’t have to fall asleep sweating.
We woke up Monday to the Machanga that we were used to: hot as hell at 7 in the morning. Although we went to bed in the cold, we woke up in a sweat. Nothing new there. Being up early, we decided to once again be ambitious and do something different. We committed to making onion rings at 7:30 in the morning when I threw together the beer batter. The recipe called for one cup of beer, and there was a lot beer left, so there was no use in wasting it. A 7:30 beer will do a body good.
With nothing to do, I got back to work on “The World is Flat.” With this book, I have to stop every couple pages because what I read was just that mind-blowing. It got me to thinking about my own situation. I’m an American, sitting in Mozambique, speaking a language imported from Portugal, and listening to British music on my Chinese-built iPod while reading a book. Crazy world we live in.
The onion ring test passed with flying colors. Usually, the first time we make something, it is an epic failure. But not this time. They looked like and tasted like onion rings, which is half the battle, and they made us ridiculously full, which is the bigger, more important, other half of the battle. It’s a shame the recipe requires a lot of time. We might be working them into our weekend rotation, when we have more time.
Content from lunch, I went to work. Five classes in the afternoon isn’t so bad, especially with no classes in the morning. I think it is harder on the kids. These kids are up early because they don’t have much of a choice, but they don’t start classes until 12:30. That’s a rough gig. But it’s no excuse for sleeping in class. As some students were writing some examples on the board, I noticed that a kid had his head on his desk. I watched him as the students continued writing, and he didn’t budge. So when I needed another volunteer, I knew exactly who to go for. I threw the chalk at him, hitting him in the arm. He got up, picked up the chalk, wrote a sentence on the board, and then kept his head up for the rest of class. Lesson learned.
After one of my classes, the kid who picked up a magazine asked me a question about a phrase he read: “kind of.” This is one of the advantages of reading – he is going to see things that are both complex and rarely taught. I thought about it, and with some translation, explained that it can be used two ways. With an adjective, “kind of” means almost or somewhat. With a noun, it means a type. And then there is “kind” by itself as an adjective. He laughed, but I think he understood.
Upon my return from class, the assistant directors told me that I no longer had to teach 10th grade, just 11th and 12th grade. This isn’t quite the solution I was looking for, but I’ll take it. It cuts my class load from 35 per week to 26. It’s just a shame we couldn’t negotiate on how many times per week 11th grade had to meet. I would have been happy to keep 10th grade if we could cut the 11th grade classes to even four times per week instead of five.
At this point, it’s out of my control. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel some guilt. I feel bad for the teacher who has to cover it because I’m sure it is more work for him than it would have been for me. But I also feel bad for the 10th grade kids. They were getting a different kind of education from me. That’s not to say I’m some master educator. What I mean is this: we learned Portuguese in a couple of months because, for among other reasons, we learned it directly from Portuguese-speakers. These kids will not learn the language as well, just because it’s coming from a non-native, non-fluent speaker.
The afternoon was a little out of the ordinary. Richie and I threw around the Frisbee with some random kids. The picked it up pretty quickly. We didn’t have to prep much for dinner. We were out of food, so we turned to canned veggies and rice. We burnt the rice, and the veggies were not great, but it got us threw another meal. We capped the night with a couple episodes of “Scrubs.”
Up early on Tuesday, I committed myself to finishing my book. And by 9:30, I was finished with “The World is Flat.” I think I have read more books here in Machanga than I did in all of college. Then again, there were a lot more distractions in college. After finishing the book, I started cleaning up the house a bit. Richie went to our newest bakery, which is much closer to the market. He told me that the girl working at the bakery wants to marry him. This can’t be good for Richie.
After an average lunch, I prepared myself for five classes in the afternoon. I think on this day more than any, I had great participation. I didn’t have to wait for volunteers to come to board. And more importantly, the kids are no longer afraid to make mistakes and are learning from them. They know that I’m not going to crack them with a ruler if they screw up. And they have started correcting each other. For the most part, I don’t have to make the corrections anymore; I just tell them that there is a mistake and they are able to find it. They are making good progress.
With classes over, two of the kids in my twelfth grade class came to get magazines from me. They both already speak decent English – good enough that one of them said that they were “depending on me to help them pass the national exam.” That’s why I’m here.
I looked forward to having a bit of afternoon to myself. That dream died quickly when one of the other teachers came to the house with a friend. We had a full conversation in English, which was nice. It was good to hear that learning a language was hard, and that we already were speaking decently. The teacher’s friend wanted to have a conversation tomorrow, so I told him to come by between 8 and 11.
Richie had to take care of dinner tonight. One of the teachers needed some tech help. Okay, “some” may be an understatement. One of the computers wouldn’t load Windows. This is the second computer that has done this, and it’s nothing I had ever seen before. I tried reloading Windows, as instructed, but it wouldn’t let me. I guess that is the problem with technology. It’s great when it works, but when it’s not working, everything falls apart. And although I can work in Windows pretty well, I know nothing about curing viruses.
Done with my tech duties, I came home for dinner. Richie and I were both pretty exhausted and in need of a good laugh – in need of some absurd humor. We went back to “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.” After a couple of episodes, our electricity went out, and we shut ourselves down.
At 8:30, the teacher’s friend came over for another conversation in English. I was curious to know how he learned English so well. His story was inspiring. His family had a lot of financial problems, to the point where they were not able to pay for his schooling for a couple of years. In those years he committed to learning English. And with the help of some other Peace Corps Volunteers, his English became pretty good. I feel like his story really is really telling. There is nothing that can stop you if you have the personal drive. He knew that English could be an escape and it has landed him a job. Now he wants to take that skill and put it to use in an American university. That won’t be so easy.
We talked until about 11 AM, just in time to start preparing for lunch. I had another five classes in front of me. These classes were with the new 11th graders that I acquired. The first group were amazingly fast learners – one or two examples, and they had it nailed. I’m definitely putting them on the fast track. The second group was a little slower, but it’s not a problem. They will get up to speed in due time.
On my way to help on tech duty, again, one of my students stopped me and said “Good night, Mr. Lee.” I was happy to hear English, but saw a brief teaching opportunity present itself. I told the student that we use “good night” when someone is about to go to bed, but you can use “good evening” at any other point during the night. He asked three or four more questions, and then I had to go. But the point is this: in that five minutes, he probably learned more than he would in 20 minutes in class. It is something that is practical, tangible, and will be put to use many times over.
Another computer went down to the same virus, so I banned a couple of people from using their flash drives, which are likely the source of the problem. I hooked the printer into a new computer, helped out with some Excel trickery, and we were rolling again. It has been an interesting experience working in the computer lab. I feel like it has been mutually helpful. I have learned some computer vocabulary, and they have learned some Windows hints. I had about 30 minutes to relax before to power went out on another hot night.
Thursday stared out a little rough. Walking to the market, my iPod ran out of battery 100 yards outside of the school gate – lame. The store where we like to buy eggs, both for their size and price, was out of eggs. But that didn’t stop me from getting a delicious and over-priced orange juice. Two of our regular market mamas were also out of eggs, and the good bakery was out of bread. So I had to go to the other bakery with bad bread and worse eggs. Last time we got eggs from them, eight of the 12 were rotten. We didn’t have high hopes.
On this day, though, our luck turned around. I was able to get some work done in the morning, writing out an exam for next week. All of the eggs were good. We had a very easy time lighting charcoal. We made an early lunch with more eggs than usual. And then it was off to work.
I had another full load of classes this afternoon. I have really come to enjoy the moment as I walk toward classes. On the first day of classes, I told my students that I don’t like being called “teacher,” that they can call me Mr. Lee. Now, when I head to class, some students will say, “Oh, good aftanoon, Mista Lee, how ah you?” It quickly puts me in a good mood.
I spent some extra time with one of my new eleventh grade classes to help them catch up. The rest of my classes were reviews for exams. There will be nothing new on the exams, and it shouldn’t be a struggle, but I know it will be tough for some. I was also pleased that students were asking questions about things they didn’t understand. I am glad that they are asking questions now. They know that I am here to help them.
My last class finished early, so I had some extra time to relax. And then Richie put me to work. He wanted a haircut. Normally this would be a boring act. But when one muzungu is cutting another muzungu’s hair, well that’s a show. A group of about ten kids watched me cut Richie’s hair. Then it became the talk of the teachers. We had a decent conversation with our neighbors about this – strange what people want to talk about.
And then on came our energy. I knew that I was back on tech duty, but I wanted to eat first. With that simple phrase, I bought myself an extra 90 minutes. The spaghetti sauce was good and the garlic bread was better than usual in spite of the bad bread. Tech duty was only for thirty minutes tonight, so my sanity was spared for a bit.
Short on money, Richie and I headed out to Vilanculos early Friday morning. We hoped that there would be a direct chapa leaving from Mambone to Vilanculos, but it wasn’t meant to be. So we took a chapa to the EN1-Mambone crossroads and hoped for a ride. First, a bus stopped for us, and wanted a ridiculous 500 meticais to get to the Vilanculos crossroads. We laughed and waited for something else.
That something else happened to be an oversized truck carrying a crane. There wasn’t room in the truck, but there was a whole lot of room behind the cabin. And that’s how we got to Vilanculos – sitting under a crane on the back of a double-wide truck. It was a “This is our life” moment for Richie and me. We paid nothing for the glorious boleia from crossroads to crossroads, and then a simple 20 mets into Vilanculos.
We joined Greg, our Mambone neighbor in a paper store in Vilanculos to buy some monster paper for test-giving. He laughed at us – and our filthy faces – when we walked in the door. We headed over to Smuggler’s to try our luck with the wireless internet and get some food. Internet was down, but the cheeseburger was delicious. Then we tried the pizza place, which also has internet, but we had no luck – kind of a bummer. Before heading to a Volunteer’s house, we picked up some food for dinner.
It was a low-key evening. There were about 10 of us for dinner. We dined outside, overlooking the ocean on an absolutely beautiful night. Exhausted from the day’s travel, I went to bed pretty early. It was a long day, and tomorrow, we’re celebrating Mardi Gras.
We got a surprisingly late start with the partying. The morning, much like my time in Machanga, was all about food. We had a late pancake breakfast, and shortly after we had a delicious hot dog lunch. This was going to be an all-American day. After lunch, I headed into the villa to get a pair of shoes. I was on a mission to find some black dress sandals at a reasonable price, but the lowest I was offered was 350 meticais (about 14 dollars), far too much. I didn’t leave empty handed though – I got a pair of nice dark brown sandals for 250. I’ll have to wait until Maputo to find cheap black shoes.
By the time I got back, the party was about to begin. More people had arrived and the alcohol started rolling in. The amount of beer and liquor we had was borderline obnoxious, but we had a lot of making up to do.
It was a pretty ridiculous party. I played beer pong with a Volunteer from Oregon. We represented the west coast well, going undefeated over five games. By the end of the night, everyone knew that the west coast was the best coast. We ordered in pizza, which of course was delicious (although it did a job on my digestive system). By the end of the night, everyone was sufficiently drunk, with one person passing out outside the house. That’s how Mardi Gras should be. I would call that a successful weekend: great boleia, great party, great time.
Back to Machanga on Sunday.
But before we left, I had some laundry to do. I have gone way too many weeks in a row without washing my sheets. It just seems like such a hopeless activity. They are drenched in sweat when I wake up and they are drenched in sweat when I go to bed at night, so what’s the point? And I have to say, as I washed my sheets, I could not believe the color that the water became. I would say it was a combination of brown, black and green.
It appeared to be a beautiful day. My sheets should have dried fast and we would have clear sailing to Mambone. Or not. As we were crossing the river – which appears to have filled out over the last couple of weeks – it started to rain. And when we walked from the river to the vila, it started to rain more. The sad thing is even when it’s raining, it’s always sunnier in Mambone.
We did our shopping, finding more things than we anticipated: tomatoes and bread which we expected, a new power outlet which we did not. And as if you needed to ask, yes, the bread was much better than anything that we could get here. By the time we finished our shopping, the rain was still going, so we decided to wait it out over cold beers, the real reason we go to Mambone. Don’t judge us for drinking at 9:30 AM. You would be too.
Our beers polished off, and the rain having come to halt, we made our way back across the river, and then from the river back to Machanga. We got back just in time to cook lunch, which was our regular potato pancakes and eggs.
I filled out the afternoon mostly with reading, with a brief intermission to put in the new power outlet. Now, I’m not exactly an electrical engineer, so either our power outlet was going to work, or the house was going to explode. To be honest, we would be okay with either. The energy came on, and with a stroke of luck, the outlet worked. Great success! We moved the stovetop, which had been in Richie’s room, back into the kitchen.
Also of note is I had another discussion with the assistant directors about my workload. With the splitting of the 11th grade classes, I now had 35 classes a week to teach, way more than I expected and more than Peace Corps expects of us. I told him I’d be happy to teach each of the classes, if we reduced 11th grade from five times per week to three, but that couldn’t be done. He promised that the situation would be resolved.
I made my now-famous garlic bread and tomato sauce and we dined like kings. As I was eating, my parents called. There are few things that can keep me from eating, but having family call is one of them. I had a good conversation with them. I was especially excited by the fact that they had already booked their tickets to visit.
The last thing my dad said on the phone was “Well, I hope the wind blows the right way for you.” And boy did it. Just before our power went out, a hurricane-like wind came through Machanga. And then the rain came. And then the cold came. It was glorious. For another night, I didn’t have to fall asleep sweating.
We woke up Monday to the Machanga that we were used to: hot as hell at 7 in the morning. Although we went to bed in the cold, we woke up in a sweat. Nothing new there. Being up early, we decided to once again be ambitious and do something different. We committed to making onion rings at 7:30 in the morning when I threw together the beer batter. The recipe called for one cup of beer, and there was a lot beer left, so there was no use in wasting it. A 7:30 beer will do a body good.
With nothing to do, I got back to work on “The World is Flat.” With this book, I have to stop every couple pages because what I read was just that mind-blowing. It got me to thinking about my own situation. I’m an American, sitting in Mozambique, speaking a language imported from Portugal, and listening to British music on my Chinese-built iPod while reading a book. Crazy world we live in.
The onion ring test passed with flying colors. Usually, the first time we make something, it is an epic failure. But not this time. They looked like and tasted like onion rings, which is half the battle, and they made us ridiculously full, which is the bigger, more important, other half of the battle. It’s a shame the recipe requires a lot of time. We might be working them into our weekend rotation, when we have more time.
Content from lunch, I went to work. Five classes in the afternoon isn’t so bad, especially with no classes in the morning. I think it is harder on the kids. These kids are up early because they don’t have much of a choice, but they don’t start classes until 12:30. That’s a rough gig. But it’s no excuse for sleeping in class. As some students were writing some examples on the board, I noticed that a kid had his head on his desk. I watched him as the students continued writing, and he didn’t budge. So when I needed another volunteer, I knew exactly who to go for. I threw the chalk at him, hitting him in the arm. He got up, picked up the chalk, wrote a sentence on the board, and then kept his head up for the rest of class. Lesson learned.
After one of my classes, the kid who picked up a magazine asked me a question about a phrase he read: “kind of.” This is one of the advantages of reading – he is going to see things that are both complex and rarely taught. I thought about it, and with some translation, explained that it can be used two ways. With an adjective, “kind of” means almost or somewhat. With a noun, it means a type. And then there is “kind” by itself as an adjective. He laughed, but I think he understood.
Upon my return from class, the assistant directors told me that I no longer had to teach 10th grade, just 11th and 12th grade. This isn’t quite the solution I was looking for, but I’ll take it. It cuts my class load from 35 per week to 26. It’s just a shame we couldn’t negotiate on how many times per week 11th grade had to meet. I would have been happy to keep 10th grade if we could cut the 11th grade classes to even four times per week instead of five.
At this point, it’s out of my control. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel some guilt. I feel bad for the teacher who has to cover it because I’m sure it is more work for him than it would have been for me. But I also feel bad for the 10th grade kids. They were getting a different kind of education from me. That’s not to say I’m some master educator. What I mean is this: we learned Portuguese in a couple of months because, for among other reasons, we learned it directly from Portuguese-speakers. These kids will not learn the language as well, just because it’s coming from a non-native, non-fluent speaker.
The afternoon was a little out of the ordinary. Richie and I threw around the Frisbee with some random kids. The picked it up pretty quickly. We didn’t have to prep much for dinner. We were out of food, so we turned to canned veggies and rice. We burnt the rice, and the veggies were not great, but it got us threw another meal. We capped the night with a couple episodes of “Scrubs.”
Up early on Tuesday, I committed myself to finishing my book. And by 9:30, I was finished with “The World is Flat.” I think I have read more books here in Machanga than I did in all of college. Then again, there were a lot more distractions in college. After finishing the book, I started cleaning up the house a bit. Richie went to our newest bakery, which is much closer to the market. He told me that the girl working at the bakery wants to marry him. This can’t be good for Richie.
After an average lunch, I prepared myself for five classes in the afternoon. I think on this day more than any, I had great participation. I didn’t have to wait for volunteers to come to board. And more importantly, the kids are no longer afraid to make mistakes and are learning from them. They know that I’m not going to crack them with a ruler if they screw up. And they have started correcting each other. For the most part, I don’t have to make the corrections anymore; I just tell them that there is a mistake and they are able to find it. They are making good progress.
With classes over, two of the kids in my twelfth grade class came to get magazines from me. They both already speak decent English – good enough that one of them said that they were “depending on me to help them pass the national exam.” That’s why I’m here.
I looked forward to having a bit of afternoon to myself. That dream died quickly when one of the other teachers came to the house with a friend. We had a full conversation in English, which was nice. It was good to hear that learning a language was hard, and that we already were speaking decently. The teacher’s friend wanted to have a conversation tomorrow, so I told him to come by between 8 and 11.
Richie had to take care of dinner tonight. One of the teachers needed some tech help. Okay, “some” may be an understatement. One of the computers wouldn’t load Windows. This is the second computer that has done this, and it’s nothing I had ever seen before. I tried reloading Windows, as instructed, but it wouldn’t let me. I guess that is the problem with technology. It’s great when it works, but when it’s not working, everything falls apart. And although I can work in Windows pretty well, I know nothing about curing viruses.
Done with my tech duties, I came home for dinner. Richie and I were both pretty exhausted and in need of a good laugh – in need of some absurd humor. We went back to “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.” After a couple of episodes, our electricity went out, and we shut ourselves down.
At 8:30, the teacher’s friend came over for another conversation in English. I was curious to know how he learned English so well. His story was inspiring. His family had a lot of financial problems, to the point where they were not able to pay for his schooling for a couple of years. In those years he committed to learning English. And with the help of some other Peace Corps Volunteers, his English became pretty good. I feel like his story really is really telling. There is nothing that can stop you if you have the personal drive. He knew that English could be an escape and it has landed him a job. Now he wants to take that skill and put it to use in an American university. That won’t be so easy.
We talked until about 11 AM, just in time to start preparing for lunch. I had another five classes in front of me. These classes were with the new 11th graders that I acquired. The first group were amazingly fast learners – one or two examples, and they had it nailed. I’m definitely putting them on the fast track. The second group was a little slower, but it’s not a problem. They will get up to speed in due time.
On my way to help on tech duty, again, one of my students stopped me and said “Good night, Mr. Lee.” I was happy to hear English, but saw a brief teaching opportunity present itself. I told the student that we use “good night” when someone is about to go to bed, but you can use “good evening” at any other point during the night. He asked three or four more questions, and then I had to go. But the point is this: in that five minutes, he probably learned more than he would in 20 minutes in class. It is something that is practical, tangible, and will be put to use many times over.
Another computer went down to the same virus, so I banned a couple of people from using their flash drives, which are likely the source of the problem. I hooked the printer into a new computer, helped out with some Excel trickery, and we were rolling again. It has been an interesting experience working in the computer lab. I feel like it has been mutually helpful. I have learned some computer vocabulary, and they have learned some Windows hints. I had about 30 minutes to relax before to power went out on another hot night.
Thursday stared out a little rough. Walking to the market, my iPod ran out of battery 100 yards outside of the school gate – lame. The store where we like to buy eggs, both for their size and price, was out of eggs. But that didn’t stop me from getting a delicious and over-priced orange juice. Two of our regular market mamas were also out of eggs, and the good bakery was out of bread. So I had to go to the other bakery with bad bread and worse eggs. Last time we got eggs from them, eight of the 12 were rotten. We didn’t have high hopes.
On this day, though, our luck turned around. I was able to get some work done in the morning, writing out an exam for next week. All of the eggs were good. We had a very easy time lighting charcoal. We made an early lunch with more eggs than usual. And then it was off to work.
I had another full load of classes this afternoon. I have really come to enjoy the moment as I walk toward classes. On the first day of classes, I told my students that I don’t like being called “teacher,” that they can call me Mr. Lee. Now, when I head to class, some students will say, “Oh, good aftanoon, Mista Lee, how ah you?” It quickly puts me in a good mood.
I spent some extra time with one of my new eleventh grade classes to help them catch up. The rest of my classes were reviews for exams. There will be nothing new on the exams, and it shouldn’t be a struggle, but I know it will be tough for some. I was also pleased that students were asking questions about things they didn’t understand. I am glad that they are asking questions now. They know that I am here to help them.
My last class finished early, so I had some extra time to relax. And then Richie put me to work. He wanted a haircut. Normally this would be a boring act. But when one muzungu is cutting another muzungu’s hair, well that’s a show. A group of about ten kids watched me cut Richie’s hair. Then it became the talk of the teachers. We had a decent conversation with our neighbors about this – strange what people want to talk about.
And then on came our energy. I knew that I was back on tech duty, but I wanted to eat first. With that simple phrase, I bought myself an extra 90 minutes. The spaghetti sauce was good and the garlic bread was better than usual in spite of the bad bread. Tech duty was only for thirty minutes tonight, so my sanity was spared for a bit.
Short on money, Richie and I headed out to Vilanculos early Friday morning. We hoped that there would be a direct chapa leaving from Mambone to Vilanculos, but it wasn’t meant to be. So we took a chapa to the EN1-Mambone crossroads and hoped for a ride. First, a bus stopped for us, and wanted a ridiculous 500 meticais to get to the Vilanculos crossroads. We laughed and waited for something else.
That something else happened to be an oversized truck carrying a crane. There wasn’t room in the truck, but there was a whole lot of room behind the cabin. And that’s how we got to Vilanculos – sitting under a crane on the back of a double-wide truck. It was a “This is our life” moment for Richie and me. We paid nothing for the glorious boleia from crossroads to crossroads, and then a simple 20 mets into Vilanculos.
We joined Greg, our Mambone neighbor in a paper store in Vilanculos to buy some monster paper for test-giving. He laughed at us – and our filthy faces – when we walked in the door. We headed over to Smuggler’s to try our luck with the wireless internet and get some food. Internet was down, but the cheeseburger was delicious. Then we tried the pizza place, which also has internet, but we had no luck – kind of a bummer. Before heading to a Volunteer’s house, we picked up some food for dinner.
It was a low-key evening. There were about 10 of us for dinner. We dined outside, overlooking the ocean on an absolutely beautiful night. Exhausted from the day’s travel, I went to bed pretty early. It was a long day, and tomorrow, we’re celebrating Mardi Gras.
We got a surprisingly late start with the partying. The morning, much like my time in Machanga, was all about food. We had a late pancake breakfast, and shortly after we had a delicious hot dog lunch. This was going to be an all-American day. After lunch, I headed into the villa to get a pair of shoes. I was on a mission to find some black dress sandals at a reasonable price, but the lowest I was offered was 350 meticais (about 14 dollars), far too much. I didn’t leave empty handed though – I got a pair of nice dark brown sandals for 250. I’ll have to wait until Maputo to find cheap black shoes.
By the time I got back, the party was about to begin. More people had arrived and the alcohol started rolling in. The amount of beer and liquor we had was borderline obnoxious, but we had a lot of making up to do.
It was a pretty ridiculous party. I played beer pong with a Volunteer from Oregon. We represented the west coast well, going undefeated over five games. By the end of the night, everyone knew that the west coast was the best coast. We ordered in pizza, which of course was delicious (although it did a job on my digestive system). By the end of the night, everyone was sufficiently drunk, with one person passing out outside the house. That’s how Mardi Gras should be. I would call that a successful weekend: great boleia, great party, great time.
Back to Machanga on Sunday.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Year 1 - Week 9: Baby Formula Pancakes
Three nights in a row, I have slept well. The weather gods have graced us with wind once again, making my hours in bed actually enjoyable. I woke up refreshed, but with little to do and few people with whom to talk. This place is awfully lonely without my roommate. But he should be back by the end of the day, depending on how lucky he is getting a chapa.
I spent the morning tidying up the house. I organized the kitchen, swept, and mopped the place down for the first time. The place was clean. And then thirty seconds after I finished mopping, it was dirty again. Tis is life in Machanga.
One advantage of being alone is I have complete control over the food. This also can be a massive disadvantage, as it proved to be last night, which resulted in unspeakable things coming out of my back end. But today, it proved to be advantageous. I didn’t want scrambled eggs and potato pancakes again, so I changed it up: I made an omelet and French fries. Don’t mock me, this is considered a change. And it was good.
The rest of the afternoon was spent reading, waiting for Richie to come home. There are times when I’m reading here that I think I’m living in a universe two months behind the rest of the world. In November, after Barack Obama had won the election, we were reading magazines talking about October surprises. Now in February, we are reading about the type of team President-elect Obama will put together. Come April, we will finally get to read about President Obama.
Richie came home just before 4:30. We were supposed to go to a meeting. I had vowed that I wouldn’t go to another staff meeting, and for this week, I stayed true to my word. But I can’t take credit for it; one of the assistant directors told me it wasn’t important and we wouldn’t need to attend. Glorious. Richie would not have gone anyway, as he was exhausted from his travel.
With Richie asleep, I took care of dinner. Because Richie came through Mambone, he was able to pick up among other wonderful items tomatoes. I made my delicious tomato sauce. We dined, watched “House,” and passed out, ready for another week of school.
Monday morning was slow. Richie had a class in the morning – poor soul: one class – so I went to the market. Our new regular bakery had no bread, so we had to go back to the old one. At least the bread was fresh today.
The afternoon was polar opposite to the morning: busy, fast-paced, and encouraging. I had six class periods – three double sessions – consecutively. But I was encouraged by what I saw. I taught my 12th graders “should” and “ought,” and following the curriculum given to me, we actually had some discussion about children’s rights. My 11th graders quickly picked up on how to use “like,” “don’t like,” and “favorite.”
Of course, in any ESL class, there will be errors, some funnier than others. One student wrote on the board “My favorite beer is water.” This made me sad, but not for the grammatical incorrectness. Another student asked me, with a straight face, “What is the difference between ‘put yo hands up’ and ‘raise your hand?’” I actually needed to take a minute to think how to explain this one. But on the whole, the students did very well. They seem to be adapting to my style.
The good part of teaching so late into the day is the energy comes on quickly. With our fresh bread, we made French toast, watched “House” and turned in.
I woke up from awesome dreams. This is the upside of Larium: every once in a while, instead of completely fucking with your head, it gives you a sense of pleasure. In the first dream, I was eating Kentucky Fried Chicken. But it wasn’t just any chicken. This chicken was hand-delivered to me by the Colonel himself. I couldn’t make that up if I tried. The second dream was just as, if not more pleasurable. It involved two girls in bikinis, both of whom I knew, neither of whom know the other. We were in the pool at my house, which is strange since neither of them had ever been there before. Larium is a great drug sometimes.
That was the beginning to what would prove to be an exhausting day. I had eight classes to teach – three in the morning, five in the afternoon. Tuesdays and Thursdays are awfully long days, but this is the price I pay to have Fridays off. The morning classes went well. I have a couple of very small boys in the class. They certainly don’t look like tenth graders. They were so eager to participate, but every time they wrote something on the board, they made a small mistake. This isn’t the big deal. What is the big deal is that every time, we corrected it, they made note of it, and they were back participating during the next activity. They both left with smiles on their faces, satisfied with their work. That, I think, is the biggest deal of all.
I rushed home for lunch, which Richie had dutifully prepared. It must be very hard to fill them time, seeing as he has zero classes on Tuesdays. Right after lunch, I was back to work. My first set of twelfth graders did a nice job learning “may” and “might.” And then the collapse began. My next two lessons – on how to use “I think” and “I believe” – tanked. Hard. I knew it was going to be a brutal lesson. After all, I was essentially teaching subjunctive, and that’s just not fair considering what we had done before that. Thankfully, I was spared by my second set of twelfth graders, who needed to learn “should” and “ought to,” which was followed by a discussion on children’s rights, albeit not as compelling or well thought out as the other class yesterday.
Exhausted, I returned home to finish a book, “the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.” I recalled my brother reading this book years ago, and when I found it, I snatched it up. It’s a nice read, and I related to the main character on a superficial level – his love of prime numbers and order, his tendency to ramble, and the simplicity of his sentences. I am glad, however, that I don’t have the medical issues that he had. And I don’t mind the colors brown or yellow, which I guess is also good.
The night was pretty normal, with few exceptions. Somebody came to our house to put light bulbs in our bedrooms. So for the first time in nine weeks here, there are light bulbs in all three rooms in the house. It’s almost cause for a celebration. Now if we could only get the other power outlets working, because one out of three just isn’t cutting it right now.
We ate our regular spaghetti dinner, although we had a new bread from a bakery we had not yet been to. One of my students, out of the clear blue, asked me this morning where I bought my bread. He told me that there was another place closer than the market. The bread wasn’t terrible, probably ranking second out of the four we have had. It is definitely more convenient to buy this bread than the other bread, so it may become our favorite quickly.
Wednesday was low-key. I only teach in the mornings on Wednesdays, and the students were mostly on their game. I was teaching this group of tenth graders how to use “like” and “don’t like.” Most of the sentences were good. Some needed some correction. And some were grammatically good, but still needed correction. In one case, a girl wrote “She didn’t like to eat her family.” I just sort of stared at the board as the students soaked it in, and all of us started laughing. The girl changed the sentence to “She didn’t like to eat fish.” That’s better.
Having classes only in the morning allowed me to help out Richie with lunch. I feel a little guilty not being able to help out as much around the house. At the same time, I’m sure he does not feel guilty about teaching a third of the hours that I teach, so I really shouldn’t feel bad.
The afternoon was relaxing. Having finished one book, I started up on another: Thomas Friedman’s “The World is Flat.” Everybody and their mother love to cite this book, so I figure I should at least know what I’m reading. Lost in all of that relaxing, the book, and a photo-worthy sunset, both Richie and I failed to realize that we were just about out of food. Oops. We had to dig into the American-sent reserves. The food wasn’t bad – the simple fact is that it gets us to the next meal.
Between dinner, and watching the last couple episodes of “House,” my brother called for the first time in a while. It was good to catch up with him, hear about what’s going on his world and the world at large.
I was in for another long day on Thursday, and with it being the end of my work week, I just wanted to get through it. I was scheduled for three classes in the morning, but after I finished my second class, one of the students approached me. He said that his class had already received the three lessons for the week. Really? He explained that two of the classes had switched classrooms and that we were caught up. Either he was a magnificent liar or he was paying closer attention than I was. I let them go, and as relieved as the students were for not having class, I was relieved for having a little more of a break for lunch.
Even though I have the same number of classes on Thursdays as I do on Tuesdays, Thursdays are easier days. I have a two-hour break for lunch instead of 25 minutes. I can actually relax, help with lunch, whatever. In this case, I contributed to the throwing out of rotten eggs. We expect a bad egg now and then, but when eight of the 12 are bad, that’s just not acceptable.
The afternoon schedule was planned for five classes, but due to students’ good work, I was able to cut it to four. My last two classes of the day are with the same group of kids, so I told them that if we move quickly – meaning, if the students volunteer quickly – we can probably get done in less than the two class periods. It is the end of my day, and it is the end of their day too, so we were equally motivated to finish. With this group, I was teaching “would like.” When one of the students wrote on the board “The students would like to leave class early today,” I knew they understood. Class dismissed, thirty minutes early.
Soon after I got home, I got a call from my parents. For the second night in a row, the connection was good. Something must be going on. Richie and I are figuring it will all come crashing down soon. Between their call and my brother’s call last night, I feel like I am almost well informed.
As the afternoon turned to night, Richie and I knew we were in for a treat. On his quest to the market earlier in the morning, Richie bought baby formula mix instead of powdered milk. This should be interesting. We figured if it’s good for babies, it probably won’t kill us. And that is how we ended up with baby formula pancakes for dinner. Amazingly, they were probably the best pancakes we had made to date. Richie credits the baby formula; I remain skeptical, but willing to withhold judgment for now. Fairly content with dinner, with watched a couple episodes of “Seinfeld,” and as the power went out, we crashed.
Friday was domestic day. I hadn’t done laundry in weeks. I pumped two buckets of water from the well and got cleaning. I hate doing laundry, but it’s a necessary evil. It’s a lot of work, and the clothes are never really clean. But we have been in country for almost five months now and we have learned to accept dirtiness.
Just as I finished washing, Richie and I started prepping lunch. With no eggs, we decided to try something totally different – rice and beans. It was filling, but all in all, quite terrible. As Richie went to the bakery, he said “make that lunch disappear”; I knew he wasn’t asking me to eat all of it. Now, I am no fan of wasting food, given where we are and how little we eat, but this just needed to go. We won’t be trying rice and beans again until we have sufficient tomatoes for salsa and good avocados for guacamole.
Our afternoon was calm. With a nice breeze blowing, we sat on the patio, drank some coffee and read books. I figure that I should have “The World is Flat” polished off by the weekend. Richie and I braced ourselves for dinner. With few ingredients to work with – or at least few that we are willing to work with – it was a solid dinner of potato pancakes and bread. It will get us to tomorrow.
I had trouble sleeping for two reasons. For one, my head was racing. I kept thinking about what I would be teaching for the next couple of weeks, even though I had it all written down. But more interesting, I had trouble sleeping because of a sensation I hadn’t felt in a while: coldness. Coldness to the point of shivering. Coldness to the point of requiring more than a pillowcase and a bottom sheet. By 4 AM, I had enough. I wrote down my thoughts, threw on a shirt, grabbed another sheet, and slept for a couple hours.
We had planned on going to Mambone to get some vegetables, but the weather nixed that plan. It seems like every time we want to travel, the weather has to say something about it. It was a cold, slow and steady rain. I had to dig into the winter clothes to pull out sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt. Once the rain slowed, I ran to the market. While shopping, I saw three of my students, all of whom spoke English to me, one of whom called me “Mr. Lee” instead of the standard “teacher.”
Upon my return, we made lunch. There is not a lot to do here on the weekends, so most of our day was spent reading. I had a student come by to pick up a magazine, which was good. I’m glad that students are willing to take some of their own time to learn.
Then the bombshell was dropped on me. One of the assistant directors told me that the split up the 11th grade classes, from two into four. This is not good. It’s not that it’s any more students. It’s more hours of teaching, hours that can’t fit into my Monday to Thursday schedule. I haven’t seen the new schedule, but I suspect they are going to be dropping Friday classes on me. If that is the case, I’m going to have a word with the assistant directors.
We had our regular spaghetti dinner, followed by a couple episodes of “Scrubs.” As seems to be the case, it got hotter when the sun went down. Luckily, it wasn’t too hot, and since I hadn’t slept the night before, I should be out like a light tonight.
I spent the morning tidying up the house. I organized the kitchen, swept, and mopped the place down for the first time. The place was clean. And then thirty seconds after I finished mopping, it was dirty again. Tis is life in Machanga.
One advantage of being alone is I have complete control over the food. This also can be a massive disadvantage, as it proved to be last night, which resulted in unspeakable things coming out of my back end. But today, it proved to be advantageous. I didn’t want scrambled eggs and potato pancakes again, so I changed it up: I made an omelet and French fries. Don’t mock me, this is considered a change. And it was good.
The rest of the afternoon was spent reading, waiting for Richie to come home. There are times when I’m reading here that I think I’m living in a universe two months behind the rest of the world. In November, after Barack Obama had won the election, we were reading magazines talking about October surprises. Now in February, we are reading about the type of team President-elect Obama will put together. Come April, we will finally get to read about President Obama.
Richie came home just before 4:30. We were supposed to go to a meeting. I had vowed that I wouldn’t go to another staff meeting, and for this week, I stayed true to my word. But I can’t take credit for it; one of the assistant directors told me it wasn’t important and we wouldn’t need to attend. Glorious. Richie would not have gone anyway, as he was exhausted from his travel.
With Richie asleep, I took care of dinner. Because Richie came through Mambone, he was able to pick up among other wonderful items tomatoes. I made my delicious tomato sauce. We dined, watched “House,” and passed out, ready for another week of school.
Monday morning was slow. Richie had a class in the morning – poor soul: one class – so I went to the market. Our new regular bakery had no bread, so we had to go back to the old one. At least the bread was fresh today.
The afternoon was polar opposite to the morning: busy, fast-paced, and encouraging. I had six class periods – three double sessions – consecutively. But I was encouraged by what I saw. I taught my 12th graders “should” and “ought,” and following the curriculum given to me, we actually had some discussion about children’s rights. My 11th graders quickly picked up on how to use “like,” “don’t like,” and “favorite.”
Of course, in any ESL class, there will be errors, some funnier than others. One student wrote on the board “My favorite beer is water.” This made me sad, but not for the grammatical incorrectness. Another student asked me, with a straight face, “What is the difference between ‘put yo hands up’ and ‘raise your hand?’” I actually needed to take a minute to think how to explain this one. But on the whole, the students did very well. They seem to be adapting to my style.
The good part of teaching so late into the day is the energy comes on quickly. With our fresh bread, we made French toast, watched “House” and turned in.
I woke up from awesome dreams. This is the upside of Larium: every once in a while, instead of completely fucking with your head, it gives you a sense of pleasure. In the first dream, I was eating Kentucky Fried Chicken. But it wasn’t just any chicken. This chicken was hand-delivered to me by the Colonel himself. I couldn’t make that up if I tried. The second dream was just as, if not more pleasurable. It involved two girls in bikinis, both of whom I knew, neither of whom know the other. We were in the pool at my house, which is strange since neither of them had ever been there before. Larium is a great drug sometimes.
That was the beginning to what would prove to be an exhausting day. I had eight classes to teach – three in the morning, five in the afternoon. Tuesdays and Thursdays are awfully long days, but this is the price I pay to have Fridays off. The morning classes went well. I have a couple of very small boys in the class. They certainly don’t look like tenth graders. They were so eager to participate, but every time they wrote something on the board, they made a small mistake. This isn’t the big deal. What is the big deal is that every time, we corrected it, they made note of it, and they were back participating during the next activity. They both left with smiles on their faces, satisfied with their work. That, I think, is the biggest deal of all.
I rushed home for lunch, which Richie had dutifully prepared. It must be very hard to fill them time, seeing as he has zero classes on Tuesdays. Right after lunch, I was back to work. My first set of twelfth graders did a nice job learning “may” and “might.” And then the collapse began. My next two lessons – on how to use “I think” and “I believe” – tanked. Hard. I knew it was going to be a brutal lesson. After all, I was essentially teaching subjunctive, and that’s just not fair considering what we had done before that. Thankfully, I was spared by my second set of twelfth graders, who needed to learn “should” and “ought to,” which was followed by a discussion on children’s rights, albeit not as compelling or well thought out as the other class yesterday.
Exhausted, I returned home to finish a book, “the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.” I recalled my brother reading this book years ago, and when I found it, I snatched it up. It’s a nice read, and I related to the main character on a superficial level – his love of prime numbers and order, his tendency to ramble, and the simplicity of his sentences. I am glad, however, that I don’t have the medical issues that he had. And I don’t mind the colors brown or yellow, which I guess is also good.
The night was pretty normal, with few exceptions. Somebody came to our house to put light bulbs in our bedrooms. So for the first time in nine weeks here, there are light bulbs in all three rooms in the house. It’s almost cause for a celebration. Now if we could only get the other power outlets working, because one out of three just isn’t cutting it right now.
We ate our regular spaghetti dinner, although we had a new bread from a bakery we had not yet been to. One of my students, out of the clear blue, asked me this morning where I bought my bread. He told me that there was another place closer than the market. The bread wasn’t terrible, probably ranking second out of the four we have had. It is definitely more convenient to buy this bread than the other bread, so it may become our favorite quickly.
Wednesday was low-key. I only teach in the mornings on Wednesdays, and the students were mostly on their game. I was teaching this group of tenth graders how to use “like” and “don’t like.” Most of the sentences were good. Some needed some correction. And some were grammatically good, but still needed correction. In one case, a girl wrote “She didn’t like to eat her family.” I just sort of stared at the board as the students soaked it in, and all of us started laughing. The girl changed the sentence to “She didn’t like to eat fish.” That’s better.
Having classes only in the morning allowed me to help out Richie with lunch. I feel a little guilty not being able to help out as much around the house. At the same time, I’m sure he does not feel guilty about teaching a third of the hours that I teach, so I really shouldn’t feel bad.
The afternoon was relaxing. Having finished one book, I started up on another: Thomas Friedman’s “The World is Flat.” Everybody and their mother love to cite this book, so I figure I should at least know what I’m reading. Lost in all of that relaxing, the book, and a photo-worthy sunset, both Richie and I failed to realize that we were just about out of food. Oops. We had to dig into the American-sent reserves. The food wasn’t bad – the simple fact is that it gets us to the next meal.
Between dinner, and watching the last couple episodes of “House,” my brother called for the first time in a while. It was good to catch up with him, hear about what’s going on his world and the world at large.
I was in for another long day on Thursday, and with it being the end of my work week, I just wanted to get through it. I was scheduled for three classes in the morning, but after I finished my second class, one of the students approached me. He said that his class had already received the three lessons for the week. Really? He explained that two of the classes had switched classrooms and that we were caught up. Either he was a magnificent liar or he was paying closer attention than I was. I let them go, and as relieved as the students were for not having class, I was relieved for having a little more of a break for lunch.
Even though I have the same number of classes on Thursdays as I do on Tuesdays, Thursdays are easier days. I have a two-hour break for lunch instead of 25 minutes. I can actually relax, help with lunch, whatever. In this case, I contributed to the throwing out of rotten eggs. We expect a bad egg now and then, but when eight of the 12 are bad, that’s just not acceptable.
The afternoon schedule was planned for five classes, but due to students’ good work, I was able to cut it to four. My last two classes of the day are with the same group of kids, so I told them that if we move quickly – meaning, if the students volunteer quickly – we can probably get done in less than the two class periods. It is the end of my day, and it is the end of their day too, so we were equally motivated to finish. With this group, I was teaching “would like.” When one of the students wrote on the board “The students would like to leave class early today,” I knew they understood. Class dismissed, thirty minutes early.
Soon after I got home, I got a call from my parents. For the second night in a row, the connection was good. Something must be going on. Richie and I are figuring it will all come crashing down soon. Between their call and my brother’s call last night, I feel like I am almost well informed.
As the afternoon turned to night, Richie and I knew we were in for a treat. On his quest to the market earlier in the morning, Richie bought baby formula mix instead of powdered milk. This should be interesting. We figured if it’s good for babies, it probably won’t kill us. And that is how we ended up with baby formula pancakes for dinner. Amazingly, they were probably the best pancakes we had made to date. Richie credits the baby formula; I remain skeptical, but willing to withhold judgment for now. Fairly content with dinner, with watched a couple episodes of “Seinfeld,” and as the power went out, we crashed.
Friday was domestic day. I hadn’t done laundry in weeks. I pumped two buckets of water from the well and got cleaning. I hate doing laundry, but it’s a necessary evil. It’s a lot of work, and the clothes are never really clean. But we have been in country for almost five months now and we have learned to accept dirtiness.
Just as I finished washing, Richie and I started prepping lunch. With no eggs, we decided to try something totally different – rice and beans. It was filling, but all in all, quite terrible. As Richie went to the bakery, he said “make that lunch disappear”; I knew he wasn’t asking me to eat all of it. Now, I am no fan of wasting food, given where we are and how little we eat, but this just needed to go. We won’t be trying rice and beans again until we have sufficient tomatoes for salsa and good avocados for guacamole.
Our afternoon was calm. With a nice breeze blowing, we sat on the patio, drank some coffee and read books. I figure that I should have “The World is Flat” polished off by the weekend. Richie and I braced ourselves for dinner. With few ingredients to work with – or at least few that we are willing to work with – it was a solid dinner of potato pancakes and bread. It will get us to tomorrow.
I had trouble sleeping for two reasons. For one, my head was racing. I kept thinking about what I would be teaching for the next couple of weeks, even though I had it all written down. But more interesting, I had trouble sleeping because of a sensation I hadn’t felt in a while: coldness. Coldness to the point of shivering. Coldness to the point of requiring more than a pillowcase and a bottom sheet. By 4 AM, I had enough. I wrote down my thoughts, threw on a shirt, grabbed another sheet, and slept for a couple hours.
We had planned on going to Mambone to get some vegetables, but the weather nixed that plan. It seems like every time we want to travel, the weather has to say something about it. It was a cold, slow and steady rain. I had to dig into the winter clothes to pull out sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt. Once the rain slowed, I ran to the market. While shopping, I saw three of my students, all of whom spoke English to me, one of whom called me “Mr. Lee” instead of the standard “teacher.”
Upon my return, we made lunch. There is not a lot to do here on the weekends, so most of our day was spent reading. I had a student come by to pick up a magazine, which was good. I’m glad that students are willing to take some of their own time to learn.
Then the bombshell was dropped on me. One of the assistant directors told me that the split up the 11th grade classes, from two into four. This is not good. It’s not that it’s any more students. It’s more hours of teaching, hours that can’t fit into my Monday to Thursday schedule. I haven’t seen the new schedule, but I suspect they are going to be dropping Friday classes on me. If that is the case, I’m going to have a word with the assistant directors.
We had our regular spaghetti dinner, followed by a couple episodes of “Scrubs.” As seems to be the case, it got hotter when the sun went down. Luckily, it wasn’t too hot, and since I hadn’t slept the night before, I should be out like a light tonight.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Year 1 - Week 8: First Week of School
Traveling sucks. It’s never easy and rarely fun. But that doesn’t mean that one doesn’t see interesting things while traveling. On our way up to Beira a couple weekends ago, we saw one man selling chickens, and a man next to him who appeared to be selling a baby. On the ride up north this past weekend, it was more of a safari. A pack of monkeys passed in front of our car and we saw a hawk picking up a five foot long snake. Awesome, right?
The trip north was an overall success. We picked up some more things for the house, saw some long-lost colleagues, and drank cold beer. I think those three things equal success. Even two of those would have been fine.
The trip back down, though, sucked. On four hours of sleep, we actually got a late start heading back to Machanga. We got a chapa to the main crossroads right away and the ride was decent. A woman who spoke perfect English thought we were going to Maputo, and later Vilanculos. When I told here we were heading to Machanga, she said “Oh, I’ve never met anyone going there.” One can only wonder why.
Then things got worse. We waited for 45 minutes in a car heading south, then were told to switch cars, and waited another 45 minutes. I should have started drinking like the person who was sitting next to me. The ride was slow, but we eventually made it to Muxungue. There by 2:00 we knew it was going to be a close call getting back to site in daylight. We had to wait to get a car, and then paid too much for it, but it didn’t matter; we were back on the road. As sunset approached, we decided it would be best to go the Mambone crossroads instead of the Machanga crossroads.
And then we waitied more. Another two hours. Just as we were about to leave, and still collecting more people, the money collector started saying “tempo é dinheiro” – time is money. Bullshit, time is money. I gave him a smartass response and he replied with a chuckle. Getting home was officially ruled out: the water taxis stop at sunset out of fear of the hippo. Luckily, our colleague from Mambone took us in for the night. On the ride over – 30 people packed into the back of a pick-up truck, I spoke with a man who thought I was from Brazil (my Portuguese can’t be that good) and was sure I wasn’t 22 years old. Then I realized he was hammered and it all made sense.
We arrived in Mambone in pitch black. Their power was out, which we are used to. Indebted to our colleague for taking us in, we cooked him dinner and at the same time spared ourselves from a fish stew that probably would have probably turned out empty stomachs over. Then again, going on little more than a pack of crackers for the day, we probably would have eaten anything with a smile on our faces.
Richie and I passed out quickly, exhausted from our 12 hour, foodless day. And another long day was ahead. We set an alarm for 3:45, preparing ourselves for the seven kilometer walk to the vila, hoping for a car.
Of course, we did not see a single car pass our way, just a couple going the opposite direction to Vilanculos. The walk wasn’t terrible. We had food in our stomachs, we weren’t hung over like last time, and we both had our Ipods going. Walking to music definitely made the walk easier. You find the beat and stride to it. We made it to the river in good time, and we were back in Machanga by 6:30. At least we made it home in less than 24 hours.
I passed out as soon as I hit the bed. Richie wasn’t so fortunate. He thought he was teaching at 7:30, so he was prepared. But his class wasn’t until 8:30 – oops. He was back quickly and I was awake upon his return
By 11:30, I started preparing myself for my own classes – six 45-minute periods given to three classes. My first group was a set of 12th graders. Given that they have the most schooling behind them, I expected them to know a little bit, but was disappointed. They were limited, to say the least. At least I know where to start with them.
My 11th grade classers, to my amazement, were significantly easier. I had good participation, and good questions were asked in between the periods: the difference between “raise” and “rise,” and “look” and “see.” I was also happy by the fact that I overheard a student saying the class was easy to understand. I hope that after the two years, those 11th graders will speak good English.
The day, in spite of or maybe because of the full teaching load, went by quickly. It was almost time for the power to come on by the time I was finished. And it couldn’t come quick enough. After eating an early lunch, Richie and were both hungry. We cooked up some pancakes, which were decent, watched the South Park movie and went to bed.
We were awakened early to the sound of a hammer on metal, certainly a pleasant alarm. But after that, things went surprisingly smoothly. I put my sheet out on the line to dry – I could not believe how wet it got just from sweating – and cleaned up while Richie went to the market. Richie was told by one of the market mamas that our baskets that we were waiting for would be in during the afternoon. We were willing to wait to get them tomorrow.
In the meantime, we decided to spruce the place up a bit. With a couple of capulanas in hand, we but up some dividers between the kitchen and where we eat (I can’t really call it a dining room). It looked good. It looked like it was becoming our home.
After lunch, Christmas arrived in Machanga. Three packages – two from my parents and one from my aunt – got dropped off. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have protein back in our diets now. I am pretty sure that we have enough food to open our own World Food Programme tent. We are very happy to have these goodies. If a famine were to hit Machanga, I am pretty sure we would survive it now.
And the hits kept coming. The baskets we were waiting for were delivered to our door via motorcycle. I spent the rest of the afternoon creating a storage space for food. It hangs beautifully over our prep table. We are hoping that it holds up.
Dinner was good. The only bad part was as we were cooking, our outlet fell apart. I tried to fix it and, in doing so, slightly electrocuted myself. Still not a bad day. Actually, it was a pretty good day.
Wednesday meant back to work, not that we were gone from it for that long. I had a somewhat late morning start, eager to see what my 10th graders could offer. They could definitely use some molding. I’ll have two years to spend with them, so the ones who are committed will learn well.
By the afternoon, with no classes to teach, I was ready to do something. I headed to the market in the heat of the noon sun. On my way there, before I could reach the gate, an 11th grade student who works at the house across from mine stopped me. We had a brief conversation where he told me he was going to come over to study. I told him I would be around during the afternoon.
It was an interesting market day. For one, there was a new barraca open. I was intrigued by the large refrigerator, so I went to get a coke. The soda was not really cold and they charged more than my regular “cold” coke place. Unless they get it down to frosty, I won’t be going back there again. Also of note was that our original bakery – the one with terrible bread – no had bread, and it was delicious. We eagerly awaited our French toast dinner.
True to his word, the student from across the way came after I returned from the market, and he brought a friend with him. In fifteen minutes, I think I was able to get more across than I was in 90 minutes of class. And I think they learned more too.
Considering that our outlet had been burned, probably from the explosion a couple weeks ago, dinner had to be cooked in my room. The French toast was amazing. We were muito satisfeito. Usually, supper for breakfast is Richie’s job, but Richie was not feeling great, so I took over. After dinner, we moved toward our kitchen to catch the cross-breeze and watch “House.”
Just as I was about to fall asleep, my sister called. I mumbled to her that she should call back later. She called me back in the morning Machanga time. It’s funny when you can wake up the next day in Machanga and it is still the same day in California.
In between, it wasn’t a terrible night. There was a hard wind blowing through, which in spite of the lack of cross-breeze in the rooms kept us cool. I kept watching to see what the moon was doing – disappearing and reappearing from the clouds. I figured we would get some rain, and for ten solid minutes, we got a good downpour.
Thursday was a long day, by far the longest day I have had this week. I was slated for 8 classes – three in the morning and five in the afternoon. My tenth grade classes in the morning were better today. They give me hope. After lunch, I dreaded having to teach my other twelfth grade class. The first one was a disappointment. But to my surprise, this class was on top of it. They took a quick liking to me, to the point that one of the students asked me to be “Director of Turma,” essentially the person responsible for the class if anything goes wrong. I was honored, but told him I had to think about it.
The eleventh graders also did a nice job. I started pushing them into the past tense of basic verbs and they seemed to pick it up nicely. I had a double session with one class, followed by a single with another. During a break in the double session, I walked around the class to see how some of the students were doing. I would say it was a mixed bag. Some got it perfectly; others just needed a little guidance. But it was this moment that made the difference for a lot of kids. It seems like other teachers here might not give the one-on-one extra help, and that is my strength.
We broke from the break, and I asked the students who I worked with to write some sentences on the board. And they wouldn’t stop writing. As I watched this, I recalled a couple of lessons from Colin Powell’s autobiography, which I have been reading recently in my spare time. Don’t stop someone’s enthusiasm and give everyone a chance to be a winner. I felt like for those couple of minutes, those kids were enthusiastic and felt like winners.
I was scheduled for a double class instead of the single class, but the director wiped out the rest of the afternoon so we could have a staff meeting. Richie and I understood very little. We are never going to staff meetings again. Upon return, I showed one of the assistant directors how we could use Microsoft Excel for grades. I think he really liked the idea, as did a 9th grade Portuguese teacher, for whom I set up grade sheets.
As I set up his grade sheets, Richie cooked our spaghetti dinner. We ate quickly and continued on with “House.” The breeze continued for the better part of the night.
And thankfully so. Last night might have been the best night of sleep I have had here. I did not struggle to fall asleep, I did not wake up multiple times during the night, and I didn’t wake up in a pool of my own sweat. It’s nice to have a break from reality. It makes me look forward to the winter months all the more.
I do not have to teach on Fridays, so I have made Fridays available for my students to come to my house – “Casa dos Muzungus” – to receive extra help. I told them that it is not limited to what we learn in class; if they want to practice speaking or have other questions, I am happy to help them. By 9:15, I had three students at my porch, eager to receive some help. I happily put down my book and worked with them for the next hour. It is that kind of commitment – coming to me on their own time – that is going to separate those students from others.
The rest of the morning was usual, other than the continuing wind. For a change of pace, Richie and I swapped our regular kitchen roles – I prepped and he cooked. I was happy not to deal with the oil burns. After lunch, with clouds closing in, Richie decided to make a dash south for a birthday party. I, financially strapped and not able to hit a bank for a couple more weeks, decided to stick in Machanga.
I immediately realized why Peace Corps puts two people here. This place is lonely. And boring. If nothing else, Richie and I manage to keep each other entertained, threatening to leave early over little things like dropping a piece of potato, or stating the obvious like “It’s hot” or “You are cooking” as we have found Mozambicans tend to do. So I continued marching through the Powell autobiography. I am committed to finishing it by week’s end.
I guess one benefit of being here alone is I get to eat food for two. I made our standard amount of French toast, and managed to eat all of it in the same amount of time I would have eaten my regular amount with Richie. I watched a couple of episodes of “House,” with the last episode ending just as the power went out. With the breeze blowing hard, I went to sleep again without trouble.
I woke up once in the middle of the night when the rain began. I considered putting the buckets outside to collect water, but was too lazy and too comfortable to get out of bed. I could always pump water during the day – I didn’t have any commitments for the day.
When I awoke for good, amazingly at 8:00, it was still raining, and it looked like it had been raining for the better part of the night. I put the buckets out and they filled up quickly. I filled the water filters and put the buckets back out, and once again the filled up quickly. Given that it is a pain in the ass to pump and haul water, I decided to start filling anything that could hold water – buckets, bacias, tupperware, pots. I considered trying to fill a colander until I realized it had a few too many holes to hold anything.
Lunch was standard fare, and it took a while to get done. With Richie gone, I had to prep, light, cook, and clean alone. Put together the fact that our charcoal stove had been soaked with rain, lighting the thing was a bit of challenge, but nothing that a little petroleum can’t solve. But even the petroleum wasn’t working alone. As I blew on the coals to get them hot, a piece chipped off and hit me on both my upper and lower left eyelids, leaving a nice little burn mark. Painful, yes, but also fortunate that the coal didn’t catch my eye.
Along with regular food, I decided to make a can of American soup. It was just cool enough – I wouldn’t dare say cold – to warrant something hot. I’m sure it will cause my digestive system to do tricks.
The afternoon was spent with Colin Powell. And by the end of the afternoon, the rain had finally stopped, although the patches of blue sky were still limited. There may be some more rain in the immediate future. As afternoon turned to evening, I peeled some garlic – an always exciting activity – in preparation for dinner.
We made it through the first week of school physically unscathed, although our hopes may have taken a slight beating, for different reasons: mine for my expectations of my students’ English skills, Richie for his Portuguese skills. He definitely has a more challenging job having to teach in Portuguese. Soon enough his students will understand him easily and the teaching will come easily. I hope the same will be true for my students and me.
The trip north was an overall success. We picked up some more things for the house, saw some long-lost colleagues, and drank cold beer. I think those three things equal success. Even two of those would have been fine.
The trip back down, though, sucked. On four hours of sleep, we actually got a late start heading back to Machanga. We got a chapa to the main crossroads right away and the ride was decent. A woman who spoke perfect English thought we were going to Maputo, and later Vilanculos. When I told here we were heading to Machanga, she said “Oh, I’ve never met anyone going there.” One can only wonder why.
Then things got worse. We waited for 45 minutes in a car heading south, then were told to switch cars, and waited another 45 minutes. I should have started drinking like the person who was sitting next to me. The ride was slow, but we eventually made it to Muxungue. There by 2:00 we knew it was going to be a close call getting back to site in daylight. We had to wait to get a car, and then paid too much for it, but it didn’t matter; we were back on the road. As sunset approached, we decided it would be best to go the Mambone crossroads instead of the Machanga crossroads.
And then we waitied more. Another two hours. Just as we were about to leave, and still collecting more people, the money collector started saying “tempo é dinheiro” – time is money. Bullshit, time is money. I gave him a smartass response and he replied with a chuckle. Getting home was officially ruled out: the water taxis stop at sunset out of fear of the hippo. Luckily, our colleague from Mambone took us in for the night. On the ride over – 30 people packed into the back of a pick-up truck, I spoke with a man who thought I was from Brazil (my Portuguese can’t be that good) and was sure I wasn’t 22 years old. Then I realized he was hammered and it all made sense.
We arrived in Mambone in pitch black. Their power was out, which we are used to. Indebted to our colleague for taking us in, we cooked him dinner and at the same time spared ourselves from a fish stew that probably would have probably turned out empty stomachs over. Then again, going on little more than a pack of crackers for the day, we probably would have eaten anything with a smile on our faces.
Richie and I passed out quickly, exhausted from our 12 hour, foodless day. And another long day was ahead. We set an alarm for 3:45, preparing ourselves for the seven kilometer walk to the vila, hoping for a car.
Of course, we did not see a single car pass our way, just a couple going the opposite direction to Vilanculos. The walk wasn’t terrible. We had food in our stomachs, we weren’t hung over like last time, and we both had our Ipods going. Walking to music definitely made the walk easier. You find the beat and stride to it. We made it to the river in good time, and we were back in Machanga by 6:30. At least we made it home in less than 24 hours.
I passed out as soon as I hit the bed. Richie wasn’t so fortunate. He thought he was teaching at 7:30, so he was prepared. But his class wasn’t until 8:30 – oops. He was back quickly and I was awake upon his return
By 11:30, I started preparing myself for my own classes – six 45-minute periods given to three classes. My first group was a set of 12th graders. Given that they have the most schooling behind them, I expected them to know a little bit, but was disappointed. They were limited, to say the least. At least I know where to start with them.
My 11th grade classers, to my amazement, were significantly easier. I had good participation, and good questions were asked in between the periods: the difference between “raise” and “rise,” and “look” and “see.” I was also happy by the fact that I overheard a student saying the class was easy to understand. I hope that after the two years, those 11th graders will speak good English.
The day, in spite of or maybe because of the full teaching load, went by quickly. It was almost time for the power to come on by the time I was finished. And it couldn’t come quick enough. After eating an early lunch, Richie and were both hungry. We cooked up some pancakes, which were decent, watched the South Park movie and went to bed.
We were awakened early to the sound of a hammer on metal, certainly a pleasant alarm. But after that, things went surprisingly smoothly. I put my sheet out on the line to dry – I could not believe how wet it got just from sweating – and cleaned up while Richie went to the market. Richie was told by one of the market mamas that our baskets that we were waiting for would be in during the afternoon. We were willing to wait to get them tomorrow.
In the meantime, we decided to spruce the place up a bit. With a couple of capulanas in hand, we but up some dividers between the kitchen and where we eat (I can’t really call it a dining room). It looked good. It looked like it was becoming our home.
After lunch, Christmas arrived in Machanga. Three packages – two from my parents and one from my aunt – got dropped off. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have protein back in our diets now. I am pretty sure that we have enough food to open our own World Food Programme tent. We are very happy to have these goodies. If a famine were to hit Machanga, I am pretty sure we would survive it now.
And the hits kept coming. The baskets we were waiting for were delivered to our door via motorcycle. I spent the rest of the afternoon creating a storage space for food. It hangs beautifully over our prep table. We are hoping that it holds up.
Dinner was good. The only bad part was as we were cooking, our outlet fell apart. I tried to fix it and, in doing so, slightly electrocuted myself. Still not a bad day. Actually, it was a pretty good day.
Wednesday meant back to work, not that we were gone from it for that long. I had a somewhat late morning start, eager to see what my 10th graders could offer. They could definitely use some molding. I’ll have two years to spend with them, so the ones who are committed will learn well.
By the afternoon, with no classes to teach, I was ready to do something. I headed to the market in the heat of the noon sun. On my way there, before I could reach the gate, an 11th grade student who works at the house across from mine stopped me. We had a brief conversation where he told me he was going to come over to study. I told him I would be around during the afternoon.
It was an interesting market day. For one, there was a new barraca open. I was intrigued by the large refrigerator, so I went to get a coke. The soda was not really cold and they charged more than my regular “cold” coke place. Unless they get it down to frosty, I won’t be going back there again. Also of note was that our original bakery – the one with terrible bread – no had bread, and it was delicious. We eagerly awaited our French toast dinner.
True to his word, the student from across the way came after I returned from the market, and he brought a friend with him. In fifteen minutes, I think I was able to get more across than I was in 90 minutes of class. And I think they learned more too.
Considering that our outlet had been burned, probably from the explosion a couple weeks ago, dinner had to be cooked in my room. The French toast was amazing. We were muito satisfeito. Usually, supper for breakfast is Richie’s job, but Richie was not feeling great, so I took over. After dinner, we moved toward our kitchen to catch the cross-breeze and watch “House.”
Just as I was about to fall asleep, my sister called. I mumbled to her that she should call back later. She called me back in the morning Machanga time. It’s funny when you can wake up the next day in Machanga and it is still the same day in California.
In between, it wasn’t a terrible night. There was a hard wind blowing through, which in spite of the lack of cross-breeze in the rooms kept us cool. I kept watching to see what the moon was doing – disappearing and reappearing from the clouds. I figured we would get some rain, and for ten solid minutes, we got a good downpour.
Thursday was a long day, by far the longest day I have had this week. I was slated for 8 classes – three in the morning and five in the afternoon. My tenth grade classes in the morning were better today. They give me hope. After lunch, I dreaded having to teach my other twelfth grade class. The first one was a disappointment. But to my surprise, this class was on top of it. They took a quick liking to me, to the point that one of the students asked me to be “Director of Turma,” essentially the person responsible for the class if anything goes wrong. I was honored, but told him I had to think about it.
The eleventh graders also did a nice job. I started pushing them into the past tense of basic verbs and they seemed to pick it up nicely. I had a double session with one class, followed by a single with another. During a break in the double session, I walked around the class to see how some of the students were doing. I would say it was a mixed bag. Some got it perfectly; others just needed a little guidance. But it was this moment that made the difference for a lot of kids. It seems like other teachers here might not give the one-on-one extra help, and that is my strength.
We broke from the break, and I asked the students who I worked with to write some sentences on the board. And they wouldn’t stop writing. As I watched this, I recalled a couple of lessons from Colin Powell’s autobiography, which I have been reading recently in my spare time. Don’t stop someone’s enthusiasm and give everyone a chance to be a winner. I felt like for those couple of minutes, those kids were enthusiastic and felt like winners.
I was scheduled for a double class instead of the single class, but the director wiped out the rest of the afternoon so we could have a staff meeting. Richie and I understood very little. We are never going to staff meetings again. Upon return, I showed one of the assistant directors how we could use Microsoft Excel for grades. I think he really liked the idea, as did a 9th grade Portuguese teacher, for whom I set up grade sheets.
As I set up his grade sheets, Richie cooked our spaghetti dinner. We ate quickly and continued on with “House.” The breeze continued for the better part of the night.
And thankfully so. Last night might have been the best night of sleep I have had here. I did not struggle to fall asleep, I did not wake up multiple times during the night, and I didn’t wake up in a pool of my own sweat. It’s nice to have a break from reality. It makes me look forward to the winter months all the more.
I do not have to teach on Fridays, so I have made Fridays available for my students to come to my house – “Casa dos Muzungus” – to receive extra help. I told them that it is not limited to what we learn in class; if they want to practice speaking or have other questions, I am happy to help them. By 9:15, I had three students at my porch, eager to receive some help. I happily put down my book and worked with them for the next hour. It is that kind of commitment – coming to me on their own time – that is going to separate those students from others.
The rest of the morning was usual, other than the continuing wind. For a change of pace, Richie and I swapped our regular kitchen roles – I prepped and he cooked. I was happy not to deal with the oil burns. After lunch, with clouds closing in, Richie decided to make a dash south for a birthday party. I, financially strapped and not able to hit a bank for a couple more weeks, decided to stick in Machanga.
I immediately realized why Peace Corps puts two people here. This place is lonely. And boring. If nothing else, Richie and I manage to keep each other entertained, threatening to leave early over little things like dropping a piece of potato, or stating the obvious like “It’s hot” or “You are cooking” as we have found Mozambicans tend to do. So I continued marching through the Powell autobiography. I am committed to finishing it by week’s end.
I guess one benefit of being here alone is I get to eat food for two. I made our standard amount of French toast, and managed to eat all of it in the same amount of time I would have eaten my regular amount with Richie. I watched a couple of episodes of “House,” with the last episode ending just as the power went out. With the breeze blowing hard, I went to sleep again without trouble.
I woke up once in the middle of the night when the rain began. I considered putting the buckets outside to collect water, but was too lazy and too comfortable to get out of bed. I could always pump water during the day – I didn’t have any commitments for the day.
When I awoke for good, amazingly at 8:00, it was still raining, and it looked like it had been raining for the better part of the night. I put the buckets out and they filled up quickly. I filled the water filters and put the buckets back out, and once again the filled up quickly. Given that it is a pain in the ass to pump and haul water, I decided to start filling anything that could hold water – buckets, bacias, tupperware, pots. I considered trying to fill a colander until I realized it had a few too many holes to hold anything.
Lunch was standard fare, and it took a while to get done. With Richie gone, I had to prep, light, cook, and clean alone. Put together the fact that our charcoal stove had been soaked with rain, lighting the thing was a bit of challenge, but nothing that a little petroleum can’t solve. But even the petroleum wasn’t working alone. As I blew on the coals to get them hot, a piece chipped off and hit me on both my upper and lower left eyelids, leaving a nice little burn mark. Painful, yes, but also fortunate that the coal didn’t catch my eye.
Along with regular food, I decided to make a can of American soup. It was just cool enough – I wouldn’t dare say cold – to warrant something hot. I’m sure it will cause my digestive system to do tricks.
The afternoon was spent with Colin Powell. And by the end of the afternoon, the rain had finally stopped, although the patches of blue sky were still limited. There may be some more rain in the immediate future. As afternoon turned to evening, I peeled some garlic – an always exciting activity – in preparation for dinner.
We made it through the first week of school physically unscathed, although our hopes may have taken a slight beating, for different reasons: mine for my expectations of my students’ English skills, Richie for his Portuguese skills. He definitely has a more challenging job having to teach in Portuguese. Soon enough his students will understand him easily and the teaching will come easily. I hope the same will be true for my students and me.
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