Partying late into the night and waking up early never is a good equation, especially with a travel day ahead. With four decent hours of sleep under my belt, I woke up to a dead house. I figured I could at least make myself productive and clean up a bit. As I contributed nothing to the party in terms of the preparation, I thought cleaning up was the least I could do. By the time the other people had awakened, all of the dishes were already done and the time for us to leave had already arrived. We packed up are bags, said our goodbyes, and did our customary Sunday morning shopping before the chapa shipped out.
The ride was a blur. Richie passed out before we left. I fell asleep shortly after and did not wake up until we were almost back in Mambone. If you are asleep for the entire ride, it really doesn’t matter how slow the damn car goes. Paid up, we bought a few more items and had a nice cold soda before going across the river. Back on the Machanga side, we made the walk back to our house and each of us fell asleep almost immediately.
We woke up, refreshed, to the energy already turned on. This was great news. If only we could sleep through the entire day until energy every day. We prepared and ate dinner before watching an episode of “Everyone Hates Chris.” Despite the pair of naps we got, both of us were still exhausted. Richie turned in early while I took phone calls from my parents and my brother. The calls ended at 10:30, a late night by Machanga standards, but even in an exhausted state, I am happy to talk to my family.
For a change – probably for the first time in 5 weeks – I slept through the night. Neither rooster nor dog nor small child could wake me up on this day. Sleeping for eight solid hours just about got me up to speed. I wanted to stay in bed, but I didn’t have much of a choice: there was lesson-planning to be done. I hate planning lessons, so I pushed it back as late as possible, doing anything to procrastinate.
As I prepared my lesson, one of our neighbors came over. He told us that he was leaving Machanga by the end of the week. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but this was no normal situation: the person leaving was our clothes-washer, gardener, and – most importantly – one of our best friends here. We didn’t think what he was saying was real.
And when we did realize it, we took it hard. The bad news affected me for the rest of the day. I did not look forward to teaching, especially since he was in one of my classes. I was not teaching as well as I could, even with lesson plans in hand. To say the least, I was uninspiring. My saving grace for the afternoon was I was able to combine two classes and get out a couple of hours early.
The rest of the afternoon was pretty relaxing. Our neighbor set us up with a new clothes-washer/gardener, which was nice of him. Even though he doesn’t do a lot for us – not nearly as much as other kids do for other teachers – what he does for us is so essential.
Once the energy came on, I was summoned to the computer lab to help a teacher move some documents from a computer to a flash drive. That gives you a pretty good idea of the level of computer literacy here. I’m really hoping to help some people with that in the months to come. This lesson was quick, and it allowed me to get home and get cooking. With bell pepper in hand, we cooked up a pretty killer stir fry. Even though there is not a lot that could salvage this day, chocolate chip cookies sure as hell do help. We enjoyed our cookies as we watched some TV before turning in for the night.
Richie ran to the market Tuesday morning, leaving me with the dishes. It’s a good thing that he went to the market early: although we haven’t seen rain here for a while, it sure looked like a storm was imminent. After cleaning, I spent a little bit of the morning reading a Mozambican newspaper. It’s nice to speak well enough that we can basically understand the newspaper, in spite of the fact that written Portuguese is so much different than spoken Portuguese.
As we finished up our lunch, the rain started to come. At first, it was light – light enough that I didn’t bother to bring a jacket or umbrella. But right in the middle of one of my classes, the deluge ensued. The pounding on the tin roof made teaching nearly impossible. I was screaming my lesson while the students struggled to understand what was going on. By the end of the afternoon, the rain had let up, giving me a relatively dry walk back to the house.
The energy came on shortly after I returned home, and with the return of energy came the return of our Portuguese friend from a few weeks back. He returned to do a couple more interviews. We chatted, as I prepared dinner, about everything from his family’s history here in Mozambique to the NBA championship. He was very appreciative of the garlic bread that we gave him: he said he hadn’t eaten anything like it since arriving in Mozambique. We foreigners look after one another.
After dinner, we started watching “Flight of the Conchords,” but as we watched, I was once again requested to the computer lab. This time, a teacher needed to print some documents, but he didn’t have Microsoft Office – he had some sort of free shareware. Anyways, I loaded up the printer driver and got his document, for which he was very grateful. We finished up our second episode of “Conchords” and went to bed.
I slept pretty well, until the Larium kicked in around 5. I can’t really complain though: eight hours of uninterrupted sleep is a small victory in my book. I tried going back to sleep but the dreams running laps in mind kept me from doing so. The early wake-up meant I was in for a long morning. At least it started well: my sister, who I hadn’t spoken with in a long time, finally called. I was very happy to catch up with my long-lost sister.
No morning should be seven hours long It allowed me plenty of time to get some work done though. Richie spent the morning working on preparing the science fair, so I had a lot of time to clean up the house pretty well. With the house clean and after finishing more than my fair share of Kakuro puzzles, I went over to the laboratory to check on projects. Some of the projects are really good – some girl made her own soap. It’s impressive, especially when you consider how limited the resources are here.
The rain that arrived yesterday lingered around today. We had some light rain for most of the morning – just enough to ruin any hopes of keeping the patio clean. Richie escaped toward the end of the morning and, with our Portuguese friend, we cooked up stir fry. I think our friend is pretty happy to get away from typical Mozambican food.
Classes were pretty easy today. I was teaching the same lesson as Monday, but for two other classes. I think it went better than the first round, which is good. Those two classes in particular can use all the help they can get. Per the usual, I finished my classes early. I had a nice portion of my afternoon to chill with the rain.
Our Portuguese friend returned just before the energy flipped on. He stuck around while we cooked dinner, French toast with real syrup. Just as with the stir fry and garlic bread, he hadn’t eaten French toast in months. He was, again, grateful for what he got his hands on. After eating, Sozinho, our empregado – the guy who works for us – came over to say his last goodbyes. We gave him a backpack and some money, took a picture, and said
“tchau.” Alone, finally, we watched some “Flight of the Conchords” before sleeping.
Two nights in a row now, I slept well through the night. I had a busy morning, with little time to myself. I trudged through a little bit of mud to get to the market, where I had a very successful market run. For the first time since we’ve arrived – almost six months now! – the market had bell peppers. This might just spare us from having to go to Mambone this weekend to buy them. Upon my return from the market, I spent the rest of the morning writing out exams for the rest of the week.
Test-giving is both a welcome day and a day that I rue every time it arrives. I love not really having to do work. It’s tough to get in front of that many people, day after day, knowing that a very slim percentage actually care about what I’m saying. The correcting of the exams is what does me in though. Not only is it a pain in the ass, but I also get to see what the majority know – or more accurately, don’t know.
An easy day of work behind me, I thought about doing some real work and correcting exams, but I wasn’t ready to be disappointed. Instead, I waited for the energy to come on and cooked macaroni and cheese for dinner. Shortly after eating, two students came by asking for some help with English. I asked what they understood and they said “nada.” Then we read the first sentence and they translated it perfectly. They laughed, but it would be the only time: the rest of the time was a bit of a struggle. Not all of it was their fault – they were reading a pretty difficult text, so considering the level, I’d say they did alright. Once they left, Richie and I watched the last two episodes of “Flight of the Conchords,” finishing just before the lights went black.
For the second morning in a row, I had to work the entire morning. I don’t like this one bit. I’ve really enjoyed my cushy afternoon schedule. The whole morning was committed to corrected exams from yesterday. There is always a fear that the exam is going to be way too easy or way too difficult. Together, the two classes performed decently. There were some epic disasters – at least a couple people scored less than 20%, even with my generous partial credit grading – and at least three near-perfect scores. On the whole, most of the students passed, which is what the school both wants and expects.
I was right back to test-giving in the afternoon, this time for two more classes. Already in a foul mood from having to grade papers all morning, I was on the tipping point of going crazy. There was little room for error with these kids, and some of them chose to push it. I found one girl sitting on a cheat sheet. I walked to the back of the classroom, stood there for a bit, then approached her desk from behind, snagged the cheat sheet and her test, and dismissed her promptly. Two others had nearly identical exams. I have yet to decide what I’m going to do about them, especially both of them are actually decent students.
I returned home for what was supposed to be a two-hour break, but my break lasted but 15 minutes. A student from the other class came to my house to tell me that their teacher wasn’t there and they would like to take the exam now. Not a problem. I walked into the classroom and saw some of my questions written on the board. Grr. I ran back to the house, altered the test slightly, and returned to give the test. When I returned, I found another cheat sheet sitting on the floor. The kids from the other class passed over the notes, the little twerps. At least the notes had a little humor: not only were most of the answers on the cheat sheet wrong, but at the bottom it said “Vamos entrar ao mundo dos ingleses” – “Let’s enter the world of the English.” That’s rich.
I didn’t have it in me to do any corrections in the afternoon. Not only was I burnt out from the day – an actual 8 hour work day – but I was too frustrated to deal with any more exam bullshit. I took my seat on the patio next to Richie, who was taking a break from his science fair work, and let my mind wander through a couple games of Kakuro.
Richie and I split up cooking duties for the night. With no chicken remaining and with no shortage of syrup, pancakes made their way back into the meal rotation after a month-long absence. While Richie cooked the pancakes, I made cookie batter. After all, cookies are the most sure-fire way to eliminate the lingering feelings from a crappy day. That, and “Anchorman” will work every time.
I woke up to a strange sight: energy. More accurately, I was half-awake half-asleep when energy flipped on around 5 o’clock. That got me out of my slumber. I sent a text to my mom asking about Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, to which I received the glorious response of a Penguins victory. Shortly after, my parents called, with most of the discussion revolving around the game, other sports action, and their amazing new flat-screen TV. Oh, the things I am missing out on…
Richie, up at the same time as me, was up and moving. He was putting together final preparations for the science fair. When I finally had enough in me to get up and out of bed, I saw something I never want to see again: a goat, dead, hanging from the tree in front of my house. I did not see that coming. I watched one of my students skin and cut it up with a smile on his face. All I knew at that moment was that goat was going to be delicious.
By mid-morning, just a few hours later than scheduled, the science fair began. I couldn’t believe how many people actually turned out for this thing: without exaggeration, a few hundred people were there. As we found out during the presentation, most of the people weren’t actually there for the science fair, but for the music and small performance that was to be put on.
The fair was actually pretty good – better than I expected. Some of the projects were really good. One girl made her own soap, which was awesome. I thought that project should have one, but the other members of the jury did not see it my way. Instead, a project involving light bulbs won. It was fine by me: I had it in my top 3.
After the fair, the organizing teachers, administrators, and participants all enjoyed a delicious goat lunch. This goat was prepared much better than the goat we had at Greg’s house for his birthday. Still, when I leave this place, I don’t envision myself eating goat ever again.
Up for 8 hours already by mid-afternoon, Richie and I were exhausted. Both of us gave up for a while, relaxing under wonderful fans. Later in the afternoon, I was awakened by the emergence of energy, the second time energy woke me up today. At least this time, it was for real. I prepared vegetables for tomato sauce while Richie continued to sleep. Once he woke up, we invited another professor over and began the celebration. Not only were we celebrating the end of the science fair, but we were celebrating the fact that we have now been in Machanga for six months.
We ate our spaghetti quickly and made our way to the villa to continue the celebration. After six months here, it’s amazing how normal everything feels. Okay, well not everything – I don’t think I will ever get used to seeing a goat hanging from a tree. But for the most part, this is it. This is home. This is our home.
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