Just a heads-up: new pictures of my family's visit to Africa are posted on the right. There are a lot of really awesome pictures that do a far better job explaining this place than my words can do. Enjoy - LG.
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I had Sunday morning all to myself. Richie went across to the river on a solo expedition. He came back with a bounty of goods including tomatoes and bell pepper. It is a rough season for us. Besides being ungodly hot and occasionally rainy, this is the time of year when we are shy on even the most basic vegetables. Things should get back to normal around March. Unitl then, it's going to be an interesting couple of weeks.
I spent most of the morning reading “Strength in What Remains”, a story about a Burundian trying to make it in America. It's a book stitched together by short, simple sentences, a style of writing I've come to appreciate. It's also a good story, which helps a lot.
Just as Richie got back to our side of the river, our school director came over. This is usually not good news. It's never a death message, but it's almost always a “pedir”: help with computers, the need for a signature, whatever it may be. And today was no different. He had a very important request of us “I bought a case of beer over at Madinha's and I need help drinking it”. Hello, beautiful! We've been called into duty to drink, and damn it, we can't say no to that.
I brought along the bottle of Jameson that I bought in Maputo. It was our intention to share the bottle with Madinha. At the end of the afternoon, we did leave the bottle with her. But to kick off the afternoon, I decided to go a little crazy with Irish Car-bombs. Amarula was a reasonable substitute for Bailey's and Laurentina Preta performed well in place of Guinness. The result was delicious though eye-raising for Madinha. She thought I was nuts, especially after I did a second one right after the first. She quickly understood: after sampling mine, she saw the light.
Toward the end of the afternoon – and the end of our case – the conversation turned to football. The final of Cup of African Nations was to be contested tonight between Egypt and Ghana. Well, my allegiance was set. Ghana is my first African love, the place that made me want to come back to Africa for my Peace Corps service. The game started minutes before we started talking about. The director said we could go back to his house to watch. “And don't worry”, he added, “I have another six beers in the house”. Charming.
We got back to his house just as the second half was beginning. Analysts had said that the team that got the first goal would win the game. This isn't the bravest of predictions, but there was a point: this was going to be a close game. The half-time score of 0-0 made that prediction look good. The stats didn't lie either: Egypt had a slight edge in time of possession, while Ghana had more chances. Ghana added some quality chances in the second half, but nothing found the back of the night.
In the 85th minute, Egypt took advantage of a defensive lapse. Two players put together a beautiful give-and-go and Egypt effectively ended the game right then and there. It's one thing to give up the first goal. It's another thing to give up that goal with five minutes to play. Full of beer and tired, I was now disappointed. I did find some consolation, though, in the cheese steaks that we had for dinner.
I woke up feeling okay for the most part. I wasn't hung over at all. The only pain I had was the pain that was lingering from the infection from two weeks. I would have thought that the antibiotics would have killed it off. But this was a new kind of pain. This was day four or five of this pain, and I was not happy about it. I considered doing the guy thing and just dealing with it, but this was becoming more and more difficult every day. I decided that morning that I would leave for Maputo on Tuesday. I had to be there over the weekend for the GREs anyways, and my doctor's appointment on Friday gave me reason to leave early.
Monday meant I was back to work. I was due to teach for five periods, but with the upcoming week of cancellations, I wanted to keep some sense of balance. I canceled two of the five, so each of my eleventh grade groups got one class. There was a bit of a fight with the pain and all, but I still managed through it.
Our evening was pretty typical, aside from Richie cooking banana bread. He never cooks anything. After dinner, we started watching “Criminal Minds”. We were hoping for a “Dexter”-type drama, but this just didn't live up to our expectations.
For the first time since we arrived at site, I woke up before Richie. I wanted to get on the road and, apparently, Richie was feeling particularly lazy. I was out the door at 6:27 in the morning, armed with a small backpack and a loose travel plan: at worst arrive in Vilanculos, at best get to Xai Xai. Xai Xai was certainly ambitious, but doable.
The travel day started poorly. I had to wait a good while for the chapa to leave Mambone. Sometimes on days like this, I think about how the same activity would be done in America. I think, given the same circumstances, a driver would load a car with the cargo, then get people. After all, in America, time means money, and everyone's time is valuable. Here, time is nothing, there's no rush, and there's little money to be earned, so fuck it. The driver collects a couple people, then spent the next hour loading up the car with rice-sacks full of fish. Frustrating, to say the least.
The only upside to the first ride was that I had the front seat to myself – much better than sitting with stinky fish. I had a bit of wait time before I got a car down to Inhassoro, a seat in the back of the truck. I was making decent time. From Inhassoro, I caught a chapa toward Vilanculos, again in the front seat to myself. It was barely noon and I had already arrived at my low-end goal. Time to be greedy. I sat around the crossroads for an hour or so. Suddenly, two cars came screaming around the corner. Bingo! For the third time, I had the front seat of a car, this time, a ballin' four-by-four truck. At one point we hit ninety miles an hour, a speed unheard of here. I got to Maxixe, a city between Vilanculos and Xai Xai, around 4:00. This would make for a good stopping point.
Within ten minutes of arriving in Maxixe, one of the Volunteers living there pulled up in a chapa. Excellent timing, indeed. He was giving an introductory English class between 4 and 5. Having nothing to do and nowhere to go, I stuck around to watch.
We had only seen each other a couple times over the past year. Even though I had just seen this Volunteer but two weeks ago, it was still nice to see him. We cooked up some pretty damn good Venezuelan food and watched “I Love You, Man”, a movie that has gotten funnier every time I've seen it. Exhausted from a long travel day, and the pain I was still dealing with, I went to bed.
For the last couple days, sleep has been one of the few times where I've felt almost no pain. Being on my back was far better than the absolutely worthless ibuprofen that I was taking. But Tuesday night was agonizing. It was the most pain I've been in during this entire stretch.
Needless to say, I didn't sleep well, but I was still committed to getting on the road relatively early. I put in a call to a Volunteer in Xai Xai, just in case I couldn't make it all the way to Maputo. It's not that the distance is impossible to cover – under normal circumstances, it's an easy one-day trip – but between wanting to get a free ride and dealing with the pain, I wasn't sure I can make it.
The ride was the easy part. After 40 minutes of waiting, I had a seat in a car that was going all the way to Maputo. But as we made our way down the bumpy road, I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it all the way down. By the time we reached Xai Xai, I was done.
As it turned out, stopping in Xai Xai was a blessing. For one, the Volunteer in Xai Xai was spending the day at the beach. I can't say if the ocean and beer helped my condition, but they didn't hurt. Each certainly did contribute to my absolute exhaustion. The fact that I didn't have to pay for hotel in Maputo was a second factor in my decision. And closely related, the fact that I wouldn't be paying an exorbitant amount for dinner sealed the deal. This didn't just make sense for my health – it made financial sense as well.
The night in Xai Xai was excellent. The Volunteer's empregada made rice and beans earlier in the day. Her rice and beans are delicious. This was a treat. After dinner, we watched a movie called “The Maiden Heist”. It's a movie I had never heard of, but it was pretty funny. Somehow, I managed to make it to 10:00 before falling asleep.
I had really good luck leaving Xai Xai the last time I headed down to Maputo. If I had even half of that luck on this trip, I would make it down to Maputo with ease. It wasn't promising initially. A few cars, clearly heading to Maputo and with empty space, passed me up. But the fifth or sixth car passed me, then backed up and picked me up. Once again, I was in luck. The trip was a piece of cake. The only difference between this trip ad the one a couple weeks ago is that I had to pay for this one. Still, given the choice of paying for a chapa or paying for a ride in a private car, I'll always take the private car.
I would be mooching off of another Volunteer's hotel room for the night. She had made the reservation a couple days ago and I knew she had extra space in the room. Arriving from Vilanculos, she wouldn't arrive until late in the evening. I checked into her room and for hours, enjoyed the glory that is the hotel room: CNN, refrigeration, air conditioning, internet, and a comfortable bed. This wouldn't be a healthy way to live on a daily basis, just sitting like this, but every once in a while, it can't be that bad for you.
I did make one trip out before the end of the day. I walked down the street to a book store in search of the new twelfth grad English book. I was unsuccessful in my attempt, but two things came out of it. The first was that I bought a new English-Portuguese dictionary for Sozinho. His birthday is coming up and with me speaking only in English to him, a dictionary would be good for him.
Failing to find the English book the first time, I went to a second bookstore. There was a couple in the first bookstore and we both ended up at the second. The man turned to me and said, in perfect English, “Are you following us or are we following you?” It turned out the man, a Mozambican, has lived in LA for twenty-five years and now runs a hedge fund. We swapped information and I look forward to meeting with him on my side of the world.
My roommate for the night didn't arrive until 9:00. I had been waiting for her to have dinner, but at some point I gave in and went by myself. She ended up getting a taxi, the traffic broke, and she made it to the restaurant before my food was out. Wisely, she asked me to order food for her.
Through a lot of dinner and over the hours after dinner, a lot of our conversation centered around the GRE. The exam is this weekend. After originally being signed up for the October date, we are both anxious to get this test behind us.
I had two missions on Friday. One of them would come late in the afternoon: getting to the other side of town to make my appointment with the urologist. Before that, though, I had the entire day to kill. My other mission for this time in Maputo was to continue looking for the new twelfth grade English book. Late in the morning, I went on a march through town in search of said book. I got my answer concerning the book in the second store I went into: “The book won't be ready until September”. So just to make this clear, there is a curriculum, but no book. There are many things I will never understand about this country. I will never understand why the first person off the chapa is always the person who sits in the back row. But this – this tops the list. Why the government release a curriculum without a book is beyond me.
I needed something to fix this. Down the street from the hotel sits an Indian restaurant. In all the times I've been to Maputo, I have never been to this restaurant. What a mistake that was. The curry was delicious, the chicken was perfectly cook. It was the perfect cure to my book-search frustrations.
The early part of the afternoon was spent bunked up in the room, soaking in the air conditioning and CNN. Around 3:30, my roommate for the weekend and I walked down to Baixa for different reasons: she wanted to do some shopping and I had my 5:00 doctor appointment. Of course, I got to my appointment ten minutes early; you can't take the punctuality out of us Americans. And then I sat in the waiting room. As Jerry Seinfeld would say, “there's no chance of not waiting, it's called the waiting room”. I just didn't expect to wait for three hours.
The whole experience was quite frustrating. Navigating the Mozambican medical “system” in Portuguese presented some challenges. The waiting was excessive even by Mozambican standards. But the appointment itself was the worst part. Now, don't get me wrong: I love taking off my pants, but I like having control of where and when I do so. I'll spare you the details of the appointment, but I was diagnosed with prostatitis, an inflamed prostate. The doctor told me that sex would help cure this little infection. Well, god damn, if I have to....
After a trying day, I was pissed off, tired, and hungry. A good chunk of my dignity was taken away and all I wanted to do was eat. If there was any good news to come from this, it was that my medical issue kept my mind off of tomorrow's GREs. At this point, all I wanted to do was eat and get a good night's sleep.
Eating was easy. Getting a good night's sleep was more challenging. I was up every couple of hours like clockwork. Regardless, I still felt decent going to the exam. I wasn't at all concerned about math. I figured the writing would come naturally. And I had added a significant number of words to my vocabulary. I thought I could do well, even after knocking out the essays. Then the vocab/English section came, and I felt like I got slaughtered. Hell, all of us felt like we got slaughtered. I would have loved to have gotten hammered afterward, but being on antibiotics put that idea to bed. Instead, we just wallowed in our collective despair for a while.
As if getting killed on the exam wasn't enough, I had to go back to the clinic to do some tests. Today's trip was much smoother than yesterday's. I went straight to the front of the line and was clear about what I needed to get done. The doctor wanted all sorts of fluids taken from me for whatever reason. It didn't really matter to me since I was in and out in fifteen minutes.
We continued our trip of international cuisine with Thai food tonight. I love most Asian food. Chinese and Japanese are over-rated. Thai and Vietnamese, though, are superior products. I have been itching for some for a while. And, man, the wait was worthwhile. The food was perfectly cooked, perfectly spiced. The only problem was that it was gone too fast. Following dinner, we went out for a couple of drinks, nothing too serious, just enough to be social.
I'm just glad this week is over.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Year 2 - Week 7: Three's Company
We had really hoped to go back to Machanga on Sunday, but following the twenty-hour death-ride to Vilanculos, Richie and I decided that we both deserved a day to relax. I won't speak for Richie, but I for one was very tired and extraordinarily sore. I needed a day to get my body back to normal.
As you would assume, I slept lke a baby, in spite of how hot our room was. You could have put me in the middle of the Sahara and I would have slept well. I was just happy to have minimal obligations. My first priority was to head to the tailor. I purchased a couple new capulanas in Maputo and wanted them turned into shorts. Plus, I had a couple of pictures that I needed to pass off to Alchandre.
Richie and I decided that as long as we were in Vilanculos, we would be irresponsible with our money. Spending nearly 400 Meticais on clothing was a good start. Breakfast at the backpapers was a solid second step. As we sat around, we met two Volunteers who had just finished up their service in Malawi. Even though we didn't know them, the conversation flowed easily. It's amazing how this whole Peace Corps experience brings people together.
Early in the afternoon, we headed in to town. Vilanculos is empty these days. With the holiday rush over, almost all of the South African tourists have found their way home, leaving Vilanculos a sleepy beach town. It's a noted difference from just montRichie and I both were in dire need of some cash. We hit up the bank, then headed to get some chicken. We went to this little takeaway place for the first time. After eating, we regretted that we hadn't tried it out before.
The rest of the afternoon was quiet. The ocean was absolutely beautiful. I guess the tourists took the heat out of the ocean; it was absolutely refreshing. We could have stayed in there all day. I also aspent a small part of the afternoon relearnng how to play cribbage. It's been a long time since I've played, so playing on this day was lke playng for the first time. I'd like to think I played okay, but I came in dead last.
The irresponsible spending continued in the evening. Along with our new friends, we got pizza. Over the course of the day, Richie and I managed to each spend 650 Meticais on food. That accounted for more than 10 percent of our monthly salaries. What do we care? With the money that Peace Corps gave us for travel and per diem, we were stll coming out ahead.
We went to bed on the early end, but I was up many times over the course of the night. I think it was around 3:30 that I decided to check the score of the football games. Richie would be disappointed by the Jets' loss to Indianapolis, and I stayed up late enough to see that the Saints beat the Vikings. Should be a great Super Bowl.
I wasn't happy to be back on the road on Monday, but we didn't have much of a choce. We needed to get back to Machanga. Shockingly, classes startd late last week and we had to get back to school to do our part. The ride was one of the better chapa rides we've ever had. We sat in the back row, which was left almost empty for most of the ride. It made it quite comfortable. As usual, the worst part of the trip was the walk from the river to the school. Between the heavy backpack and the two computers I was hauling, it wasn't a fun walk. So I decided to test a theory. We've been told that you could pay a kid ten Mets. I told a kid that I had ten Mets for him if he carried my bag. Lo and behold, he did. It made the walk a lot nicer.
We walked into a house that was spotless and and well-organized. Sozinho went to town on our house. As nice as the house was, I was a little frustrated because a lot of things had been moved around. I felt lost in my own house. And Sozinho had taken over a fair portion of my room. I wasn't thrilled about this, but what could I do? The house looked great.
There wasn't a lot going on at night. Our energy came on around 6:30. We fell into our regular old habits and cooked up spaghetti and tomato sauce. The house, now with three people, is a little crowded, but we're happy to have the help. We ended the night with some episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".
Tuesday was the start of a couple good things. I told Sozinho that I wanted to speak English only to him. I figure that if we are going to have a kid living with us, he could at least get the benefit of hearing a lot of English. He agreed to the plan and so I started with the English right away.
Tuesday was also the start of classes. Along with some returning students in twelfth grade, I had a fresh batch of kids in eleventh grade. Even though I wasn't looking forward to teaching, I was excited once class started. I'm going to do my best to not use Portuguese with my twelfth graders and my eleventh graders seem eager to learn.
After classes ended, Richie and I went to the villa to grab a soda. It was amazingly hot and a cold soda went a long way in making us feel a bit better.
I was getting used to the new house set-up and thought that t would be best to at least make some room for Sozinho. I reorganized my room a little so that Sozinho could have a place to hang his clothing. I don't mind that all his stuff is in my room, but it should at least be situated in one place.
Our night was pretty ridiculous. After eating some shrimp stir fry, we watched a movie called "Bitch Slap". This was, undoubtedly, the best worst movie we have ever seen. Our colleagues are going to love it.
Like last night, I had trouble sleeping. 'Tis the season. It's fuckin' hot and we are dehydrated beyond belief, even though we are pouring water down our throats by the liter. No matter how much we drink, we sweat out that much plus some. I was up at least three times during the night for no other reason but to drink water. After last night, I learned my lesson: keep a bottle of water in bed. It saves a lot of needless trips out of bed.
I spent the morning reading “How Starbucks Saved My Life”. It's among the books that a friend of mine sent me. It's an interesting, improbable story of a man who loses his big-time ad agency job and ends up taking a job at Starbucks to get his life back on track. It's not a shining piece of literature by any means, but it's a good story.
Even though Tuesday was the first day of class for me, it wasn't really the first day of lessons. For my eleventh graders, I was merely introducing myself. Most of them were new students, the exceptions being the ones who managed to fail my class (and at least a couple others last year). For the twelfth graders, I just laid down how the year was going to work. Wednesday was the real first day of classes.
I had one class introduction to do with a set of eleventh graders, but after that, it was time to work. I brought in a small piece of writing (one paragraph) for my students to read. Following the reading, they had some questions to answer. A lot of them did pretty well. Some of them – especially the ones who failed my class, but were “voted up” to twelfth grade – struggled mightily. It's going to be a long year for them.
After my first full day of teaching, I was rather exhausted. I didn't want to do much of anything, which is good, because as we well know, there is nothing to do in Machanga. New year, same boring village.
We intend to change that, though. Following another miserable night's sleep, Richie and I went to talk to our school director on Thursday morning. We wanted to reiterate our commitment to building a basketball court here. The man who was going to plan it out had utterly failed us, so he decided that he would talk to a new person. He said he'd have someone by the end of the morning.
Naturally, we doubted this ambition. We decided to go to the market, figuring there was no way we'd be meeting with anyone today. But when we got back, we were shocked to get a call from the school. The “tecnico” was here and he wanted to talk. Sweet.
I had a full load of classes, mostly with eleventh graders, Thursday afternoon. My new kids showed some promise when I demonstrated how easy this language can be. I think I made some converts with the first mini-lesson on the first day; now it was a matter of getting them to think a bit in English. I went back to basics with them, introducing present simple and the verb “to be”. I know most of them know the verb, but most of them didn't really know how to use it. This group, compared to last year's eleventh graders seem younger, more malleable, and they seemed to get it quickly.
The clouds started to roll in Thursday afternoon, but it didn't make the temperature any more tolerable. In fact, all the humidity might have made it worse. We prayed for some rain. Even though it makes market runs difficult, we wouldn't mind much. Sozinho is doing most of our shopping these days anyways.
With the exception of a couple earth-rattling cracks of thunder and a quick shower, it was a pretty dry night. The thunder literally shook our house and a couple times over the course of the night woke us up. But for all the noise, there wasn't a lot of rain to match. When we woke up, the ground was still pretty dry.
I was called over to the school Friday morning by one of the teachers. There was someone who wanted to meet me. He was a new English teacher at the secondary school not too far from us. He wanted to plan out some classes. I wasn't too thrilled about this, as I like to do this kind of thing a little independently. But then, with a new curriculum, I figured that this wouldn't be the worst thing to do. He probably had more insight than me on how to plan out this curriculum, so I went along with it. He said we should meet tomorrow morning. Okay.
Thursday and Friday are my longest teaching days of the week. Each day, I have every period in the afternoon filled. I'm not thrilled about the situation. I would much rather have a front-loaded schedule and take it easy later in the week, but I have no control of this, so I let it go. I decided to make things on this day a little easier. I had some materials from last year that I wanted to put into use. They would get me through this day with no preparation and little work.
Richie and I had planned to go out with some teachers Friday night, but that plan was nixed when we got a good bit of rain Friday afternoon. There was no need to trudge through the mud to drink when we could just drink in the house. So that's what we did. It wasn't a night of excess, but it was enough to help us sleep.
Sozinho should have given us a clue that we were going to get some serious rain. Hell, he gave us two. The first was that for the first time all week, he was going to sleep inside. There's plenty of room in our house for him to sleep inside, but it's admittedly much nicer to be outside at night. He saw the rain coming and knew better. The second clue was that he told me to close my windows. I told him that water shouldn't get into my room because the wind was blowing away from
I was wrong. It absolutely downpoured for the entire evening. Around 1 in the morning, I woke up to find my sheets soaked. I only had myself to blame for this. I should have listened to Sozinho. I stripped the sheets, closed the windows, laid a towel over the especially rain-soaked part of my mattress and went back to bed.
The rain did some serious damage. The ground was strewn with puddles. Small lakes would actually be a more accurate description. And sadly, on a Saturday, I had work to do. As promised, I went to the school at 10:00, ready to lesson plan with this other teacher. I gave it twenty minutes. He didn't show up, so I left. Of course, I had forgotten the “40 Minute Rule”. Every meeting here starts forty minutes late, and why shouldn't this one? Sure enough, at twenty til eleven, a kid came over and told me there was someone at the school waiting for me. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
I walked back to the school and we got back to work. Clearly, he was as eager as I was to get going and knock this thing out. There was no bullshit conversation, no messing around. We both wanted to get in, get out, and get on with our day. We had the entire trimester planned out in forty-five minutes. It was a masterful performance by us.
On this otherwise grey, rainy day, there wasn't a whole lot to do. Our neighbor brought over a bottle of rum that we bought him. He wanted to get to work. Sure, why not? He was over at 3:00. By 3:30, the bottle of rum he brought over was gone, utterly destroyed by the three of us. I decided that I was done until the energy came on.
The best part about afternoon drinking is that you're still awake, giving you the opportunity to eat and rehydrate. By the end of the night, I was feeling perfect. On a dry day, I could have been coaxed into going drinking. But on this wet night, I was done. I ate a late dinner, watched some “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” and went to sleep.
As you would assume, I slept lke a baby, in spite of how hot our room was. You could have put me in the middle of the Sahara and I would have slept well. I was just happy to have minimal obligations. My first priority was to head to the tailor. I purchased a couple new capulanas in Maputo and wanted them turned into shorts. Plus, I had a couple of pictures that I needed to pass off to Alchandre.
Richie and I decided that as long as we were in Vilanculos, we would be irresponsible with our money. Spending nearly 400 Meticais on clothing was a good start. Breakfast at the backpapers was a solid second step. As we sat around, we met two Volunteers who had just finished up their service in Malawi. Even though we didn't know them, the conversation flowed easily. It's amazing how this whole Peace Corps experience brings people together.
Early in the afternoon, we headed in to town. Vilanculos is empty these days. With the holiday rush over, almost all of the South African tourists have found their way home, leaving Vilanculos a sleepy beach town. It's a noted difference from just montRichie and I both were in dire need of some cash. We hit up the bank, then headed to get some chicken. We went to this little takeaway place for the first time. After eating, we regretted that we hadn't tried it out before.
The rest of the afternoon was quiet. The ocean was absolutely beautiful. I guess the tourists took the heat out of the ocean; it was absolutely refreshing. We could have stayed in there all day. I also aspent a small part of the afternoon relearnng how to play cribbage. It's been a long time since I've played, so playing on this day was lke playng for the first time. I'd like to think I played okay, but I came in dead last.
The irresponsible spending continued in the evening. Along with our new friends, we got pizza. Over the course of the day, Richie and I managed to each spend 650 Meticais on food. That accounted for more than 10 percent of our monthly salaries. What do we care? With the money that Peace Corps gave us for travel and per diem, we were stll coming out ahead.
We went to bed on the early end, but I was up many times over the course of the night. I think it was around 3:30 that I decided to check the score of the football games. Richie would be disappointed by the Jets' loss to Indianapolis, and I stayed up late enough to see that the Saints beat the Vikings. Should be a great Super Bowl.
I wasn't happy to be back on the road on Monday, but we didn't have much of a choce. We needed to get back to Machanga. Shockingly, classes startd late last week and we had to get back to school to do our part. The ride was one of the better chapa rides we've ever had. We sat in the back row, which was left almost empty for most of the ride. It made it quite comfortable. As usual, the worst part of the trip was the walk from the river to the school. Between the heavy backpack and the two computers I was hauling, it wasn't a fun walk. So I decided to test a theory. We've been told that you could pay a kid ten Mets. I told a kid that I had ten Mets for him if he carried my bag. Lo and behold, he did. It made the walk a lot nicer.
We walked into a house that was spotless and and well-organized. Sozinho went to town on our house. As nice as the house was, I was a little frustrated because a lot of things had been moved around. I felt lost in my own house. And Sozinho had taken over a fair portion of my room. I wasn't thrilled about this, but what could I do? The house looked great.
There wasn't a lot going on at night. Our energy came on around 6:30. We fell into our regular old habits and cooked up spaghetti and tomato sauce. The house, now with three people, is a little crowded, but we're happy to have the help. We ended the night with some episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".
Tuesday was the start of a couple good things. I told Sozinho that I wanted to speak English only to him. I figure that if we are going to have a kid living with us, he could at least get the benefit of hearing a lot of English. He agreed to the plan and so I started with the English right away.
Tuesday was also the start of classes. Along with some returning students in twelfth grade, I had a fresh batch of kids in eleventh grade. Even though I wasn't looking forward to teaching, I was excited once class started. I'm going to do my best to not use Portuguese with my twelfth graders and my eleventh graders seem eager to learn.
After classes ended, Richie and I went to the villa to grab a soda. It was amazingly hot and a cold soda went a long way in making us feel a bit better.
I was getting used to the new house set-up and thought that t would be best to at least make some room for Sozinho. I reorganized my room a little so that Sozinho could have a place to hang his clothing. I don't mind that all his stuff is in my room, but it should at least be situated in one place.
Our night was pretty ridiculous. After eating some shrimp stir fry, we watched a movie called "Bitch Slap". This was, undoubtedly, the best worst movie we have ever seen. Our colleagues are going to love it.
Like last night, I had trouble sleeping. 'Tis the season. It's fuckin' hot and we are dehydrated beyond belief, even though we are pouring water down our throats by the liter. No matter how much we drink, we sweat out that much plus some. I was up at least three times during the night for no other reason but to drink water. After last night, I learned my lesson: keep a bottle of water in bed. It saves a lot of needless trips out of bed.
I spent the morning reading “How Starbucks Saved My Life”. It's among the books that a friend of mine sent me. It's an interesting, improbable story of a man who loses his big-time ad agency job and ends up taking a job at Starbucks to get his life back on track. It's not a shining piece of literature by any means, but it's a good story.
Even though Tuesday was the first day of class for me, it wasn't really the first day of lessons. For my eleventh graders, I was merely introducing myself. Most of them were new students, the exceptions being the ones who managed to fail my class (and at least a couple others last year). For the twelfth graders, I just laid down how the year was going to work. Wednesday was the real first day of classes.
I had one class introduction to do with a set of eleventh graders, but after that, it was time to work. I brought in a small piece of writing (one paragraph) for my students to read. Following the reading, they had some questions to answer. A lot of them did pretty well. Some of them – especially the ones who failed my class, but were “voted up” to twelfth grade – struggled mightily. It's going to be a long year for them.
After my first full day of teaching, I was rather exhausted. I didn't want to do much of anything, which is good, because as we well know, there is nothing to do in Machanga. New year, same boring village.
We intend to change that, though. Following another miserable night's sleep, Richie and I went to talk to our school director on Thursday morning. We wanted to reiterate our commitment to building a basketball court here. The man who was going to plan it out had utterly failed us, so he decided that he would talk to a new person. He said he'd have someone by the end of the morning.
Naturally, we doubted this ambition. We decided to go to the market, figuring there was no way we'd be meeting with anyone today. But when we got back, we were shocked to get a call from the school. The “tecnico” was here and he wanted to talk. Sweet.
I had a full load of classes, mostly with eleventh graders, Thursday afternoon. My new kids showed some promise when I demonstrated how easy this language can be. I think I made some converts with the first mini-lesson on the first day; now it was a matter of getting them to think a bit in English. I went back to basics with them, introducing present simple and the verb “to be”. I know most of them know the verb, but most of them didn't really know how to use it. This group, compared to last year's eleventh graders seem younger, more malleable, and they seemed to get it quickly.
The clouds started to roll in Thursday afternoon, but it didn't make the temperature any more tolerable. In fact, all the humidity might have made it worse. We prayed for some rain. Even though it makes market runs difficult, we wouldn't mind much. Sozinho is doing most of our shopping these days anyways.
With the exception of a couple earth-rattling cracks of thunder and a quick shower, it was a pretty dry night. The thunder literally shook our house and a couple times over the course of the night woke us up. But for all the noise, there wasn't a lot of rain to match. When we woke up, the ground was still pretty dry.
I was called over to the school Friday morning by one of the teachers. There was someone who wanted to meet me. He was a new English teacher at the secondary school not too far from us. He wanted to plan out some classes. I wasn't too thrilled about this, as I like to do this kind of thing a little independently. But then, with a new curriculum, I figured that this wouldn't be the worst thing to do. He probably had more insight than me on how to plan out this curriculum, so I went along with it. He said we should meet tomorrow morning. Okay.
Thursday and Friday are my longest teaching days of the week. Each day, I have every period in the afternoon filled. I'm not thrilled about the situation. I would much rather have a front-loaded schedule and take it easy later in the week, but I have no control of this, so I let it go. I decided to make things on this day a little easier. I had some materials from last year that I wanted to put into use. They would get me through this day with no preparation and little work.
Richie and I had planned to go out with some teachers Friday night, but that plan was nixed when we got a good bit of rain Friday afternoon. There was no need to trudge through the mud to drink when we could just drink in the house. So that's what we did. It wasn't a night of excess, but it was enough to help us sleep.
Sozinho should have given us a clue that we were going to get some serious rain. Hell, he gave us two. The first was that for the first time all week, he was going to sleep inside. There's plenty of room in our house for him to sleep inside, but it's admittedly much nicer to be outside at night. He saw the rain coming and knew better. The second clue was that he told me to close my windows. I told him that water shouldn't get into my room because the wind was blowing away from
I was wrong. It absolutely downpoured for the entire evening. Around 1 in the morning, I woke up to find my sheets soaked. I only had myself to blame for this. I should have listened to Sozinho. I stripped the sheets, closed the windows, laid a towel over the especially rain-soaked part of my mattress and went back to bed.
The rain did some serious damage. The ground was strewn with puddles. Small lakes would actually be a more accurate description. And sadly, on a Saturday, I had work to do. As promised, I went to the school at 10:00, ready to lesson plan with this other teacher. I gave it twenty minutes. He didn't show up, so I left. Of course, I had forgotten the “40 Minute Rule”. Every meeting here starts forty minutes late, and why shouldn't this one? Sure enough, at twenty til eleven, a kid came over and told me there was someone at the school waiting for me. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
I walked back to the school and we got back to work. Clearly, he was as eager as I was to get going and knock this thing out. There was no bullshit conversation, no messing around. We both wanted to get in, get out, and get on with our day. We had the entire trimester planned out in forty-five minutes. It was a masterful performance by us.
On this otherwise grey, rainy day, there wasn't a whole lot to do. Our neighbor brought over a bottle of rum that we bought him. He wanted to get to work. Sure, why not? He was over at 3:00. By 3:30, the bottle of rum he brought over was gone, utterly destroyed by the three of us. I decided that I was done until the energy came on.
The best part about afternoon drinking is that you're still awake, giving you the opportunity to eat and rehydrate. By the end of the night, I was feeling perfect. On a dry day, I could have been coaxed into going drinking. But on this wet night, I was done. I ate a late dinner, watched some “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” and went to sleep.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Worst Bus Ride Ever: An Epic Tale
I'm usually not one to speak about isolated incidents. But every once in a while, an incident so horrifying comes along that it deserves its own space. The trip from Maputo to Vilanculos was such an incident.
With certainty, Richie and I weren't looking forward to the trip. On the best of days, on this shitty road, it's a ten hour trip. But that's just time on the road. Our day officially started at 4:30. A quick shower, a call to a taxi, and we were on the road by 5:15. Right off the bat, things were bad. Our taxi driver, thinking we were going really far, took us to the airport. We should have taken that as a warning sign.
After arriving at junta, the place in Maputo from where busses and chapas leave, we got on the bus and were quickly on the road. I was stuck in the row behind a guy who was clearly drunk off gin. He was belligerent and I was not happy. I really would have liked to punch him in the face, but instead, I decided to fuck with him for a lot of the trip. I convinced him that I didn't speak any English. Later in the trip, i watered down his gin. I don't think he noticed. And I later learned, while he spoke English to me and I looked at him like I didn't understand, that he was in the narcotics trafficking business. Nice.
Of course, the first hour of the trip was just getting out of Maputo. I really don't see the purpose of having to stop cars and busses every 15 minutes, but then again, there are a lot of things I still don't understand about this place, even after more than a year of being here.
The ride was going quite smoothly. The driver was making pretty good time and with the road so smooth in the south, we were moving so seemlessly that I fell asleep. I woke up when we got to Xai Xai. We had just crossed the bridge when we came to a stop. Usually, busses will stop for people to go pee or buy sodas and whatnot, but this stop was extensive. This spelled bad news.
For a good while, we sat on the bus like assholes, thinking that this was just a flat tire that could be repaired quickly, slam, bam, thank you ma'am and back on the road. But we were wrong. One tire came off, and then another. What we had was an axle problem.
Even so, we held out hope that this problem could be rectified, but I still didn't want to take any chances. As we waited for a fix, I tried to get a ride heading to Vilanculos. But over the entire morning, no one was heading to Vilanculos. The longest ride we were offered was to Maxixe, and even then, we wouldn't have arrived in Vilanculos by the end of the day. We decided to take a pass.
So we waited. At some point, the guy sitting next to me told us that a bus was coming to pick us up. This was all fine and good except the bus was coming all the way from Maputo. We were going to have to wait until mid-afternoon to get on the bus. In the meantime, Richie, being the asshole that he is, crossed the street to talk up the girls sitting under the trees. This was like throwing a piece of meat to a pride of lions: it was just a matter of who was going to jump on first. He has since dubbed the first girl "Demon Slut".
Finally, around 3:00 in the afternoon, the bus arrived from Maputo. This is where things got interesting...as if they hadn't been already. This new bus didn't have a full undercarriage for luggage, so they started filling the back rows of the bus with bags. For those of you doing the math, if you take a full bus, and take away four rows, that means some people may not get on the bus. This was everyones fear. People, including me, did our best to claim seats. I jumped on the tire and passed my bag through the window to someone who saved two seats for us.
Naturally, this didn't mean anything. Just as the bus was filling out, people started to congregate around the door. WIth my computer bag already on the bus, there was no way I wasn't getting on. I made my way right to the door. I can only compare this experience to getting up to the very front of the floor to see a concert. I needed to be front and center.
Being bigger than almost everyone paid off. I may have thrown an elbow to get where I wanted, but I was the third person on the bus, securing an almost comfortable for Richie and myself. Richie, in the meantime, got stuck in an angry mob of people. He, too, was close to the front, so the momentum of the mass of people dragged him on to the bus. As people settled in, there was no shortage of yelling. I think I saw tears running down someone's cheeks. This was a battle royale.
The funny thing about this whole process was that everyone pretty much knew that everyone was going to get on the bus, by hook or by crook. In a country that packs 28 people into a 16 person car, this was going to be easy. We ran almost non-stop from Xai Xai to Maxixe. The road, disastrous only a few weeks ago, was in surprisingly good shape. It seems that the Chinese company working on the road finally cracked the whip and they got paving.
From Maxixe on out, things were slow and go. There are some biggish commecial areas between Maxixe and Vilanculos, so whenever we came across one, people stopped to get off. These stops were not three-second, get-up-and-get-out experience. These stops took time because people had to dig out their luggage from the heap. I chose to close my eyes to try to forget the day.
We arrived in Vilanculos at 12:30 AM Sunday. Just writing that sentence makes me want to vomit. We were hungry, dehydrated, sore and angry. But more than anything, we just wanted to sleep. We called a taxi, and while we waited, we found out that one of the girls Richie had talked to didn't have a place to stay for the night. She was banking on getting to Inhassoro, about an hour north of Vilanculos, but there are no chapas running at 12:30 in the morning. Taking pity, we took her in and paid for her room.
By the time we settled into bed, it was 1:30 AM. That's a twenty-hour travel day. If you're wondering why we hate going to Maputo, and why we are trying to convince Peace Corps to change us to a flying site, this is why. I never want to experience this again.
Needless to say, I can't wait to return to Maputo in two weeks. Dear god, help me.
With certainty, Richie and I weren't looking forward to the trip. On the best of days, on this shitty road, it's a ten hour trip. But that's just time on the road. Our day officially started at 4:30. A quick shower, a call to a taxi, and we were on the road by 5:15. Right off the bat, things were bad. Our taxi driver, thinking we were going really far, took us to the airport. We should have taken that as a warning sign.
After arriving at junta, the place in Maputo from where busses and chapas leave, we got on the bus and were quickly on the road. I was stuck in the row behind a guy who was clearly drunk off gin. He was belligerent and I was not happy. I really would have liked to punch him in the face, but instead, I decided to fuck with him for a lot of the trip. I convinced him that I didn't speak any English. Later in the trip, i watered down his gin. I don't think he noticed. And I later learned, while he spoke English to me and I looked at him like I didn't understand, that he was in the narcotics trafficking business. Nice.
Of course, the first hour of the trip was just getting out of Maputo. I really don't see the purpose of having to stop cars and busses every 15 minutes, but then again, there are a lot of things I still don't understand about this place, even after more than a year of being here.
The ride was going quite smoothly. The driver was making pretty good time and with the road so smooth in the south, we were moving so seemlessly that I fell asleep. I woke up when we got to Xai Xai. We had just crossed the bridge when we came to a stop. Usually, busses will stop for people to go pee or buy sodas and whatnot, but this stop was extensive. This spelled bad news.
For a good while, we sat on the bus like assholes, thinking that this was just a flat tire that could be repaired quickly, slam, bam, thank you ma'am and back on the road. But we were wrong. One tire came off, and then another. What we had was an axle problem.
Even so, we held out hope that this problem could be rectified, but I still didn't want to take any chances. As we waited for a fix, I tried to get a ride heading to Vilanculos. But over the entire morning, no one was heading to Vilanculos. The longest ride we were offered was to Maxixe, and even then, we wouldn't have arrived in Vilanculos by the end of the day. We decided to take a pass.
So we waited. At some point, the guy sitting next to me told us that a bus was coming to pick us up. This was all fine and good except the bus was coming all the way from Maputo. We were going to have to wait until mid-afternoon to get on the bus. In the meantime, Richie, being the asshole that he is, crossed the street to talk up the girls sitting under the trees. This was like throwing a piece of meat to a pride of lions: it was just a matter of who was going to jump on first. He has since dubbed the first girl "Demon Slut".
Finally, around 3:00 in the afternoon, the bus arrived from Maputo. This is where things got interesting...as if they hadn't been already. This new bus didn't have a full undercarriage for luggage, so they started filling the back rows of the bus with bags. For those of you doing the math, if you take a full bus, and take away four rows, that means some people may not get on the bus. This was everyones fear. People, including me, did our best to claim seats. I jumped on the tire and passed my bag through the window to someone who saved two seats for us.
Naturally, this didn't mean anything. Just as the bus was filling out, people started to congregate around the door. WIth my computer bag already on the bus, there was no way I wasn't getting on. I made my way right to the door. I can only compare this experience to getting up to the very front of the floor to see a concert. I needed to be front and center.
Being bigger than almost everyone paid off. I may have thrown an elbow to get where I wanted, but I was the third person on the bus, securing an almost comfortable for Richie and myself. Richie, in the meantime, got stuck in an angry mob of people. He, too, was close to the front, so the momentum of the mass of people dragged him on to the bus. As people settled in, there was no shortage of yelling. I think I saw tears running down someone's cheeks. This was a battle royale.
The funny thing about this whole process was that everyone pretty much knew that everyone was going to get on the bus, by hook or by crook. In a country that packs 28 people into a 16 person car, this was going to be easy. We ran almost non-stop from Xai Xai to Maxixe. The road, disastrous only a few weeks ago, was in surprisingly good shape. It seems that the Chinese company working on the road finally cracked the whip and they got paving.
From Maxixe on out, things were slow and go. There are some biggish commecial areas between Maxixe and Vilanculos, so whenever we came across one, people stopped to get off. These stops were not three-second, get-up-and-get-out experience. These stops took time because people had to dig out their luggage from the heap. I chose to close my eyes to try to forget the day.
We arrived in Vilanculos at 12:30 AM Sunday. Just writing that sentence makes me want to vomit. We were hungry, dehydrated, sore and angry. But more than anything, we just wanted to sleep. We called a taxi, and while we waited, we found out that one of the girls Richie had talked to didn't have a place to stay for the night. She was banking on getting to Inhassoro, about an hour north of Vilanculos, but there are no chapas running at 12:30 in the morning. Taking pity, we took her in and paid for her room.
By the time we settled into bed, it was 1:30 AM. That's a twenty-hour travel day. If you're wondering why we hate going to Maputo, and why we are trying to convince Peace Corps to change us to a flying site, this is why. I never want to experience this again.
Needless to say, I can't wait to return to Maputo in two weeks. Dear god, help me.
Year 2 - Week 6: Mid Service Conference
Week 6: Mid-Service
Don't be fooled by the title of this post. We are well beyond our official mid-service point. But this week was our Mid-Service Conference in lovely Maputo. I won't waste a lot of words about the conference itself. We had some sessions on funding, monitoring and evalution, project re-evaluation, how to spend our next year, and some other fun stuff. We also endured some poking and prodding from the medical team and the dentist.
The session that caught everyone's attention, though, was when Mozambique's Charge d'Affairs (essentially Ambassador) came to speak to us on the last day. He usually has some interesting things to say and today was no exception. We learned that there were four countries this year who fell out of Freedom House's "electoral democracy" group: Guinea, Honduras, Madagascar, and Mozambique. Three of those had coups; Mozambique didn't. But Freedom House must have seen the election as so fraudulent that they probably don't see it as a proper democracy. I, for one, can't make a good assssment of these things. Neither Richie and I, inspite of my desires to talk to people, have talked to people about the election, but it is a concerning assessment.
For most of us, the week was all about catching up with long-lost colleagues. For us, we haven't seen most of the people in the north and a lot of people in the south, so it was excellent to play catch-up. On a more "business"-related note, the week was also great for people to get up on secondary projects. I received some great tools for teaching computer classes. I look forward to putting them to use in Machanga in the months to come.
There were two items of importance for me that supercede anything from the conference. The first was that I got healthy again. Peace Corps diagnosed me with a urinary tract infection. Pleasant, I know. Apparently, dehydration and a lot of travel will do that to a guy. It hasn't been a fun experience, but the doctors got me on meds quickly and I was feeling better by the end of the week. Along with me getting healthy, I got my computer healthy. With lightning fast internet and new software, I was able to get everything functioning correctly. I am very happy about this situation.
It was a strange week. Usually our weeks are very level, but this week was very up and down. All I had to endure was the bus ride from Maputo to Vilanculos....
Don't be fooled by the title of this post. We are well beyond our official mid-service point. But this week was our Mid-Service Conference in lovely Maputo. I won't waste a lot of words about the conference itself. We had some sessions on funding, monitoring and evalution, project re-evaluation, how to spend our next year, and some other fun stuff. We also endured some poking and prodding from the medical team and the dentist.
The session that caught everyone's attention, though, was when Mozambique's Charge d'Affairs (essentially Ambassador) came to speak to us on the last day. He usually has some interesting things to say and today was no exception. We learned that there were four countries this year who fell out of Freedom House's "electoral democracy" group: Guinea, Honduras, Madagascar, and Mozambique. Three of those had coups; Mozambique didn't. But Freedom House must have seen the election as so fraudulent that they probably don't see it as a proper democracy. I, for one, can't make a good assssment of these things. Neither Richie and I, inspite of my desires to talk to people, have talked to people about the election, but it is a concerning assessment.
For most of us, the week was all about catching up with long-lost colleagues. For us, we haven't seen most of the people in the north and a lot of people in the south, so it was excellent to play catch-up. On a more "business"-related note, the week was also great for people to get up on secondary projects. I received some great tools for teaching computer classes. I look forward to putting them to use in Machanga in the months to come.
There were two items of importance for me that supercede anything from the conference. The first was that I got healthy again. Peace Corps diagnosed me with a urinary tract infection. Pleasant, I know. Apparently, dehydration and a lot of travel will do that to a guy. It hasn't been a fun experience, but the doctors got me on meds quickly and I was feeling better by the end of the week. Along with me getting healthy, I got my computer healthy. With lightning fast internet and new software, I was able to get everything functioning correctly. I am very happy about this situation.
It was a strange week. Usually our weeks are very level, but this week was very up and down. All I had to endure was the bus ride from Maputo to Vilanculos....
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Year 2 - Week 5: Waiting in the South
With my family on their way back to the United States, it was almost back to normal for me. The biggest difference for me was that I only had to take care of myself. I didn't have to translate for anyway. I didn't need to worry about anyone's transportation issues. I just had to worry about me. As much as I love my family, and as much as I loved spending time with my family, I was glad to get back to the independent lifestyle of a Peace Corps Volunteer.
I arrived in Maputo late on Saturday. By coincidence, I was on a flight from Johannesburg with two other Volunteers. One of them didn't have a hotel reservation, but they lucked out since I had an extra bed in my room. I lucked out also because it cut the price of my room in half.
Maputo, aside from the delicious food, was otherwise boring. I was happy to have one last steak and some Chinese food before heading to Xai Xai. There was not much sense in me returning all the way to Machanga, only to return to Maputo days later. Instead, a new Volunteer in Xai Xai, only 200 kilometers away, took me in for a couple days. By midweek, and with my best friend back in town from America, we switched sites to a little town just outside of Xai Xai. No matter where we stayed, it was better than staying in a hotel, and it was better than going to site for two days.
Kate and I decided to head down from Xai Xai to Maputo and continuing to Namaacha on Saturday. We got an absolutely sweet ride -- air conditioned and free -- that dropped us not to far from town. We jumped in a chapa and grabbed some pizza before heading to Namaacha.
I owed my host mom a good visit. Even though she was happy to see my family and me last week, she was disappointed that we weren't sticking around for a while. She had expected at least two meals and hoped for a couple of days, but we just didn't have the time to make it work. This stay, along with the pictures I brought her from my parents visit, helped make up for things.
Much like staying in Xai Xai, staying in Namaacha was nice because it meant free food and free housing. Kate's family wasn't a around to take her in, but thankfully, my host mom was willing to play hostess to both of us. Staying in Namaacha was also convenient due to its proximity to Maputo. Having to travel only ninety minutes for our conference in Maputo is a blessing.
The only other note of interest is that for the first time in more than a year, I came down with a nasty infection. I, like most people hate being sick, and I, like most men, usually won't call or see a doctor. But this was painful enough to warrant a call. And I was happy I did. The told me they would have antibiotics for me next week. I guess that if you are going to not feel well, it's best to do so when you are right about to have a scheduled appointment anyway.
All in all, it was a fairly boring week. More than anything, it was good to get back to an almost "normal" life and see some people who I needed to see.
I arrived in Maputo late on Saturday. By coincidence, I was on a flight from Johannesburg with two other Volunteers. One of them didn't have a hotel reservation, but they lucked out since I had an extra bed in my room. I lucked out also because it cut the price of my room in half.
Maputo, aside from the delicious food, was otherwise boring. I was happy to have one last steak and some Chinese food before heading to Xai Xai. There was not much sense in me returning all the way to Machanga, only to return to Maputo days later. Instead, a new Volunteer in Xai Xai, only 200 kilometers away, took me in for a couple days. By midweek, and with my best friend back in town from America, we switched sites to a little town just outside of Xai Xai. No matter where we stayed, it was better than staying in a hotel, and it was better than going to site for two days.
Kate and I decided to head down from Xai Xai to Maputo and continuing to Namaacha on Saturday. We got an absolutely sweet ride -- air conditioned and free -- that dropped us not to far from town. We jumped in a chapa and grabbed some pizza before heading to Namaacha.
I owed my host mom a good visit. Even though she was happy to see my family and me last week, she was disappointed that we weren't sticking around for a while. She had expected at least two meals and hoped for a couple of days, but we just didn't have the time to make it work. This stay, along with the pictures I brought her from my parents visit, helped make up for things.
Much like staying in Xai Xai, staying in Namaacha was nice because it meant free food and free housing. Kate's family wasn't a around to take her in, but thankfully, my host mom was willing to play hostess to both of us. Staying in Namaacha was also convenient due to its proximity to Maputo. Having to travel only ninety minutes for our conference in Maputo is a blessing.
The only other note of interest is that for the first time in more than a year, I came down with a nasty infection. I, like most people hate being sick, and I, like most men, usually won't call or see a doctor. But this was painful enough to warrant a call. And I was happy I did. The told me they would have antibiotics for me next week. I guess that if you are going to not feel well, it's best to do so when you are right about to have a scheduled appointment anyway.
All in all, it was a fairly boring week. More than anything, it was good to get back to an almost "normal" life and see some people who I needed to see.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
From Their Perspective - My Family's Trip to Africa
Our trip to Africa would have never been, had it not been for our son Lee stationed there as a Peace Corps volunteer. What a schlep. I confess, at some points I asked why Lee wasn’t stationed somewhere like Costa Rica or Samoa—I could understand that! You see, in the Gerston family, adventure occurs when a food server fails to stop by for a drink order at the resort pool, thus forcing us to find the bar on our own. It’s not that we’re spoiled or pampered—we just don’t do anything that requires planning or adventure. Against that background, we spent four months between last January and April planning our Africa trip with Lee and our travel agent, Nancy Burger, working out an incredibly complicated agenda. Our efforts came to fruition a few weeks ago—with some weather-related alterations—when we boarded our plane to Vilanculos, Mozambique, with stops in London (overnight) and Johannesburg. On December 27th, we set our eyes on Lee for the first time since September 2008. That was a memorable moment, although only the first of many.
Lee looked great. Between working out with homemade weights and a lot of walking each day, he was toned and healthy. Seeing him in such good shape and so happy about his life was worth the trip in itself. Everything else from that point on was bonus—of which we had plenty during the remainder of our journey. In the days that followed, Lee (aka interpreter and sometimes guide) escorted us through his part of the world—first through Mozambique, then Swaziland, and finally South Africa. Along the way we visited with his African mother, the woman who housed Lee for his first three months and taught him Mozambique traditions. We didn’t see enough to become experts on anything, but what we saw opened our eyes in ways we wouldn’t have imagined before our arrival.
Developing countries are known for their contradictions and extremes, and that was certainly the case in our travels. In the midst of great poverty, cell phones and towers were everywhere. Most of the locals draw their water from wells, where we would often see women walking with 40-45 pounds of contained water balanced on their heads with a baby or two tucked in their sides or backs courtesy of a swath of colorful fabric. Yet, periodically, we saw solar panels pop up seemingly out of nowhere. For someone who can barely put one foot in front of another without tripping, this alone was a sight to behold. Cars and trucks are rare in this part of the world, so in the grip of blazing sun and high humidity, hitchhiking is a way of life. I found myself hitchhiking with Lee through Vilanculos, something I hadn’t done in nearly half a century and certainly wouldn’t do today in the U.S. Yet, in Mozambique it’s common, and somehow people find ways to squeeze into truck beds with 15 or 20 others already stuffed in place. Oh, what I would give to have the local shock absorber franchise.
The people are incredibly friendly, although the women can be a bit shy. Bargaining for goods is a way of life in tin-covered, cubicle-size bazaars —if you pay the asking price, you’re a sucker. With Lee fluent in Portuguese, the official language of Mozambique, we were always assured the best prices. On the pristine beach in Tofo, our second stop, the locals behaved in much the same manner as in Vilanculos. Whether selling baked (not roasted) cashews, gorgeous shells or fresh crab, the beach salespeople all had smiles at the opening and close of every deal. They don’t have much and they lead difficult lives, but somehow joy seems to ooze out nonetheless. Perhaps that’s the bi-product of low expectations.
Our accommodations were excellent throughout the trip, though varied. In Vilancolus, we stayed in a small complex overlooking the ocean. Each room had a net over your bed that you were advised to use; otherwise you were sure to make the local mosquitoes very happy. At Tofo, our room faced the ocean. We slept with the door open (netted of course) and close enough to the ocean to hear the waves—one of my favorite sounds. In Swaziland, the relative high altitude (2,500 feet) of our stay there was above the mosquito line, as the proprietor put it. That was fine with me. And in Jock Safari Lodge, our last residence in Kruger Park, netting again was the order of the day. At the end of our trip, I suffered a grand total of one mosquito bite.
A word about Jock Safari Lodge, where we spent three nights. Unknowingly, this last stop was the most palatial of all. Elisa (my wife) and I had our own thatched roof cottage, as did Lee and Rachel (our daughter). Each cottage had lovely furniture and an outside sitting area consisting of a large shaded area, a couple of lounge chairs in the sun and a small dipping pool. And the food, while inviting almost everywhere, was incomparable at Jock. Hearty breakfasts followed the morning safari, with lunch available a short time later. Tea with all kinds of snacks preceded the late afternoon safari. After our return at about 8:00 pm, we had cocktails and a late dinner. Do this for three days and nights and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to Safari heaven.
And now to the animals. Until this trip, wild animals were just not of interest to me. I got bored even watching the Discovery channel, and zoos are for kids. I’ve always thought that as long as animals stayed where they belonged and I stayed where I belonged, we could coexist. For me, the Riverboat Cruise ride at Disneyland tested the upper limit of my adventure quotient. Sensing an unpleasant tear in the wall separating these two worlds, I faced the safari idea with weak enthusiasm and mild curiosity. It was something I was supposed to do, but not much more. Wow, did my world change!
The first thing to remember about a safari is that you’re on their turf. Since humans thrive on controlling their environment this revelation in itself is a shock to the system. That said, a good safari honors the animal’s world. The idea is to travel with your guide in a large jeep with 6 or 8 people for a few hours (usually around sunrise or dusk) and get as close as possible to wild animals without intruding. A wise guide knows how to do that, assuming the animals cooperate with their presence, which is hardly guaranteed.
Our first safari occurred in Swaziland in an area known as Hlane. Although this reserve was small compared to Kruger, it was at Hlane where my fright index approached its limit. At a small watering hole, our guide stopped the jeep so that we could photograph a colorful bird. As everyone clicked away, a female elephant suddenly charged the jeep from behind a large bush no more than ten feet from our vehicle. The elephant was so close that basically one ear filled my picture frame. I thought we were done for, as the guide quickly jammed the jeep into reverse, backed up in a cloud of dust, and then pivoted out of there driving like a mad man for at least quarter mile. It was a scary moment, even for the guide. I’ll never forget it, that’s for sure. We saw other animals during that trip, including a lion, a couple of giraffes, some rhinos, warthogs, and lots of antelope, but they just didn’t register. I kept thinking of that elephant and its huge flapping ears.
The best animal sightings took place at Jock Safari Lodge, where we went out on six occasions. Jock is in the middle of Kruger Park, a game reserve approximately 350 miles (that’s not a typo) long and 50 miles wide. It’s sort of a reverse zoo. Instead of the animals housed behind a fence, people are. If you forget that and wander out, you’re likely to be someone’s snack. Over our three days at Jock, we saw just about everything imaginable, sometimes in large, intimating numbers. On one morning, we found the Big 5—lions, elephants, rhinos, buffalo and a leopard. Our guide, JV, told us that spotting all five in one outing occurs about one time out of thirty, so we felt fortunate. The arrays were impressive. On several occasions we saw mothers with their young—giraffes, elephants, buffalo, and rhinos come to mind. At one point, 28 elephants of all sizes sauntered onto the road, becoming a huge traffic jam. At another, four rhinos were flopped out on the road, leaving us unable to do anything until they moved. We saw fields of Zebras, where each has its own unduplicated set of stripes. We watched giraffes pick off leaves from trees and elephants snatch up large batches of grass as tall as six feet. We saw a rare black rhino (only 200 in all of Kruger, compared to 5,000 white rhinos) approach within 15 feet of our jeep, snort a few times, and then turn away. Baboons, monkeys, hyenas (truly ugly, in my humble opinion) and other animals were also sighted.
These kinds of sightings occurred again and again in all kinds of combinations and patterns. When the animals were not to be found, JV, an incredibly knowledgeable guide, showed us exotic birds, pointed out insects, and discussed the origins of the earth formations. You might think that once you see the animals, you could check them off a list and go on to something else. Instead, seeing the big game in different settings drew me back for more. I couldn’t get enough.
But my most memorable experience with JV came one time when he suddenly stopped the jeep and quietly uttered, “elephant.” Now self-qualifying as a big game observer, I appeared about and saw nothing. Three hundred yards down the road and around the curve, we saw elephants.
When I asked how he knew they were nearby, JV said that he had smelled the elephant. Amazing.
Our trip to Africa was memorable to be sure. Visiting with our son was a long overdue reward after a lengthy absence. On another level, experiencing Africa’s big game was nothing short of a humbling, yet exciting experience. I heartedly recommend it. But try not to go with too many predispositions—for whatever they are will be disabused soon enough.
Lee looked great. Between working out with homemade weights and a lot of walking each day, he was toned and healthy. Seeing him in such good shape and so happy about his life was worth the trip in itself. Everything else from that point on was bonus—of which we had plenty during the remainder of our journey. In the days that followed, Lee (aka interpreter and sometimes guide) escorted us through his part of the world—first through Mozambique, then Swaziland, and finally South Africa. Along the way we visited with his African mother, the woman who housed Lee for his first three months and taught him Mozambique traditions. We didn’t see enough to become experts on anything, but what we saw opened our eyes in ways we wouldn’t have imagined before our arrival.
Developing countries are known for their contradictions and extremes, and that was certainly the case in our travels. In the midst of great poverty, cell phones and towers were everywhere. Most of the locals draw their water from wells, where we would often see women walking with 40-45 pounds of contained water balanced on their heads with a baby or two tucked in their sides or backs courtesy of a swath of colorful fabric. Yet, periodically, we saw solar panels pop up seemingly out of nowhere. For someone who can barely put one foot in front of another without tripping, this alone was a sight to behold. Cars and trucks are rare in this part of the world, so in the grip of blazing sun and high humidity, hitchhiking is a way of life. I found myself hitchhiking with Lee through Vilanculos, something I hadn’t done in nearly half a century and certainly wouldn’t do today in the U.S. Yet, in Mozambique it’s common, and somehow people find ways to squeeze into truck beds with 15 or 20 others already stuffed in place. Oh, what I would give to have the local shock absorber franchise.
The people are incredibly friendly, although the women can be a bit shy. Bargaining for goods is a way of life in tin-covered, cubicle-size bazaars —if you pay the asking price, you’re a sucker. With Lee fluent in Portuguese, the official language of Mozambique, we were always assured the best prices. On the pristine beach in Tofo, our second stop, the locals behaved in much the same manner as in Vilanculos. Whether selling baked (not roasted) cashews, gorgeous shells or fresh crab, the beach salespeople all had smiles at the opening and close of every deal. They don’t have much and they lead difficult lives, but somehow joy seems to ooze out nonetheless. Perhaps that’s the bi-product of low expectations.
Our accommodations were excellent throughout the trip, though varied. In Vilancolus, we stayed in a small complex overlooking the ocean. Each room had a net over your bed that you were advised to use; otherwise you were sure to make the local mosquitoes very happy. At Tofo, our room faced the ocean. We slept with the door open (netted of course) and close enough to the ocean to hear the waves—one of my favorite sounds. In Swaziland, the relative high altitude (2,500 feet) of our stay there was above the mosquito line, as the proprietor put it. That was fine with me. And in Jock Safari Lodge, our last residence in Kruger Park, netting again was the order of the day. At the end of our trip, I suffered a grand total of one mosquito bite.
A word about Jock Safari Lodge, where we spent three nights. Unknowingly, this last stop was the most palatial of all. Elisa (my wife) and I had our own thatched roof cottage, as did Lee and Rachel (our daughter). Each cottage had lovely furniture and an outside sitting area consisting of a large shaded area, a couple of lounge chairs in the sun and a small dipping pool. And the food, while inviting almost everywhere, was incomparable at Jock. Hearty breakfasts followed the morning safari, with lunch available a short time later. Tea with all kinds of snacks preceded the late afternoon safari. After our return at about 8:00 pm, we had cocktails and a late dinner. Do this for three days and nights and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to Safari heaven.
And now to the animals. Until this trip, wild animals were just not of interest to me. I got bored even watching the Discovery channel, and zoos are for kids. I’ve always thought that as long as animals stayed where they belonged and I stayed where I belonged, we could coexist. For me, the Riverboat Cruise ride at Disneyland tested the upper limit of my adventure quotient. Sensing an unpleasant tear in the wall separating these two worlds, I faced the safari idea with weak enthusiasm and mild curiosity. It was something I was supposed to do, but not much more. Wow, did my world change!
The first thing to remember about a safari is that you’re on their turf. Since humans thrive on controlling their environment this revelation in itself is a shock to the system. That said, a good safari honors the animal’s world. The idea is to travel with your guide in a large jeep with 6 or 8 people for a few hours (usually around sunrise or dusk) and get as close as possible to wild animals without intruding. A wise guide knows how to do that, assuming the animals cooperate with their presence, which is hardly guaranteed.
Our first safari occurred in Swaziland in an area known as Hlane. Although this reserve was small compared to Kruger, it was at Hlane where my fright index approached its limit. At a small watering hole, our guide stopped the jeep so that we could photograph a colorful bird. As everyone clicked away, a female elephant suddenly charged the jeep from behind a large bush no more than ten feet from our vehicle. The elephant was so close that basically one ear filled my picture frame. I thought we were done for, as the guide quickly jammed the jeep into reverse, backed up in a cloud of dust, and then pivoted out of there driving like a mad man for at least quarter mile. It was a scary moment, even for the guide. I’ll never forget it, that’s for sure. We saw other animals during that trip, including a lion, a couple of giraffes, some rhinos, warthogs, and lots of antelope, but they just didn’t register. I kept thinking of that elephant and its huge flapping ears.
The best animal sightings took place at Jock Safari Lodge, where we went out on six occasions. Jock is in the middle of Kruger Park, a game reserve approximately 350 miles (that’s not a typo) long and 50 miles wide. It’s sort of a reverse zoo. Instead of the animals housed behind a fence, people are. If you forget that and wander out, you’re likely to be someone’s snack. Over our three days at Jock, we saw just about everything imaginable, sometimes in large, intimating numbers. On one morning, we found the Big 5—lions, elephants, rhinos, buffalo and a leopard. Our guide, JV, told us that spotting all five in one outing occurs about one time out of thirty, so we felt fortunate. The arrays were impressive. On several occasions we saw mothers with their young—giraffes, elephants, buffalo, and rhinos come to mind. At one point, 28 elephants of all sizes sauntered onto the road, becoming a huge traffic jam. At another, four rhinos were flopped out on the road, leaving us unable to do anything until they moved. We saw fields of Zebras, where each has its own unduplicated set of stripes. We watched giraffes pick off leaves from trees and elephants snatch up large batches of grass as tall as six feet. We saw a rare black rhino (only 200 in all of Kruger, compared to 5,000 white rhinos) approach within 15 feet of our jeep, snort a few times, and then turn away. Baboons, monkeys, hyenas (truly ugly, in my humble opinion) and other animals were also sighted.
These kinds of sightings occurred again and again in all kinds of combinations and patterns. When the animals were not to be found, JV, an incredibly knowledgeable guide, showed us exotic birds, pointed out insects, and discussed the origins of the earth formations. You might think that once you see the animals, you could check them off a list and go on to something else. Instead, seeing the big game in different settings drew me back for more. I couldn’t get enough.
But my most memorable experience with JV came one time when he suddenly stopped the jeep and quietly uttered, “elephant.” Now self-qualifying as a big game observer, I appeared about and saw nothing. Three hundred yards down the road and around the curve, we saw elephants.
When I asked how he knew they were nearby, JV said that he had smelled the elephant. Amazing.
Our trip to Africa was memorable to be sure. Visiting with our son was a long overdue reward after a lengthy absence. On another level, experiencing Africa’s big game was nothing short of a humbling, yet exciting experience. I heartedly recommend it. But try not to go with too many predispositions—for whatever they are will be disabused soon enough.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Year 2 - Weeks 3 amd 4: The Best of What's Around
Even though my family has been planning their trip to visit me for nearly a year, it was hard to believe that they were actually coming. We've talked about for so long that it felt like it never was going to happen. But in the middle of a hot Mozambican afternoon, there they were: my mom, dad, and sister getting off a plane in Vilanculos. We had thirteen days together over three countries - Mozamique, Swaziland, and South Africa - and I wanted to make sure that my family saw the best of what these places have to offer.
In Mozambique, we hit the two beautiful beach towns of Vilanculos and Tofo. The beaches themselves were beautiful. In the six days we had on the beach, we did not see a drop of rain. It was pure sunshine. My family robbed a week of summer.
My dad truly got the full Mozambican experience in Vilanculos. During a trip to the market, he bought three capulanas. We took them to the tailor to have shirts made and all three of his shirts came out beautiful. And oh yea, he hitch-hiked with me up and down the length of Vilanculos. It was awesome to be a part of that.
While in Tofo, we had spectacular beachside rooms, but very little shade. However, we had the good fortune of meeting a nice South African family who graciously lent out a gazebo to us.
I think the truest Mozambican incident we experiencd was on the road between Tofo and Maputo. Not far down the EN1, we had a flat tire. That in itself is Mozambican enough. But more than that was the help we received. Our driver had a lot of trouble changing the tire, but by a stroke of luck, a man helped our driver replace the tire. In exchange, we gave him a free ride to Maputo. This was a classice win-win situation: we got back on the road, and our new friend got a free ride to Maputo. He didn't know how to thank us, and we didn't know how to thank him.
Our stay in Maputo was intentionally brief. There's not a lot to see or do in Maputo, and we really just needed it as a stop-over to get to Namaacha and Swaziland.
After a brief brunch with my host mom, the four of us hit Hlane Royal National Park in Swaziland. The small camp was really cool. . We saw what we thought were a lot of animals -- a rhino mother-and-child- pair, a pair of beautiful giraffes, and one smallish male lion. The place didn't have electricity, but it didn't matter. By the time we were done getting charged by an elephant, we were well exhausted and ready to sleep.
We had one more safari at Hlane before heading into the mountains. This safari wasn't nearly as exhilirating as the first one, but it was still great. We got close to another elephant without getting charged and we saw a nice group of rhinos.
The only day that we had rain was the day that we transferred sites in hilly Swaziland. We spent a couple nights at this really cool ecolodge named Phophonyane. I don't know if I have ever seen hills so green. And it proved to be a relaxing couple of days before the madness that was Kruger.
Jock Safari Lodge in Kruger Park was spectacular. In fact, 'spectacular' probably doesn't do it justic. In one trip, we saw all of the Big 5 - elephants, lions, leopard, rhinos, and buffalos. And it's not just that we saw everything: it's that we saw everything so close to us. Aside from the Big 5, we also saw zebras, giraffes, baboons, too many breeds of impala, vervet monkeys, colorful birds and more.
And it's not that we saw everything from so close. What truly made the experience amazing is that we saw so much of everything from so close. We sat next to eight sleepy lions. We drove through a herd of 28 elephants, including some babies. Because mating season was just a couple of months ago, the park was full of babies -- baby antelopes, elephants, buffalos, and rhinos were all over the place. On our very last ride, toward the very end of the trip, we saw a group of more than 100 buffalo and we came across a rare black rhino. It was a great end to a couple days on safari. The whole safari experience - for us, anyway - was exhilirating.
This whole trip wasn't just about seeing animals - it was about trying new things, doing things that we normally wouldn't do. I can't imagine anyone in my family getting in the back of a truck to get around. And eating wildebeest, ostrich, and kudu is something that you really can't do in America (and all of them were delicious). I'm really happy that they were able to see some of the things that I see on a daily basis and especially proud that they put up with all the craziness that Africa has to offer. And to see all of those animals was a real bonus. The most telling thing for me, though, is that after two weeks of Africa, my dad wants to come back some time in the future.
In Mozambique, we hit the two beautiful beach towns of Vilanculos and Tofo. The beaches themselves were beautiful. In the six days we had on the beach, we did not see a drop of rain. It was pure sunshine. My family robbed a week of summer.
My dad truly got the full Mozambican experience in Vilanculos. During a trip to the market, he bought three capulanas. We took them to the tailor to have shirts made and all three of his shirts came out beautiful. And oh yea, he hitch-hiked with me up and down the length of Vilanculos. It was awesome to be a part of that.
While in Tofo, we had spectacular beachside rooms, but very little shade. However, we had the good fortune of meeting a nice South African family who graciously lent out a gazebo to us.
I think the truest Mozambican incident we experiencd was on the road between Tofo and Maputo. Not far down the EN1, we had a flat tire. That in itself is Mozambican enough. But more than that was the help we received. Our driver had a lot of trouble changing the tire, but by a stroke of luck, a man helped our driver replace the tire. In exchange, we gave him a free ride to Maputo. This was a classice win-win situation: we got back on the road, and our new friend got a free ride to Maputo. He didn't know how to thank us, and we didn't know how to thank him.
Our stay in Maputo was intentionally brief. There's not a lot to see or do in Maputo, and we really just needed it as a stop-over to get to Namaacha and Swaziland.
After a brief brunch with my host mom, the four of us hit Hlane Royal National Park in Swaziland. The small camp was really cool. . We saw what we thought were a lot of animals -- a rhino mother-and-child- pair, a pair of beautiful giraffes, and one smallish male lion. The place didn't have electricity, but it didn't matter. By the time we were done getting charged by an elephant, we were well exhausted and ready to sleep.
We had one more safari at Hlane before heading into the mountains. This safari wasn't nearly as exhilirating as the first one, but it was still great. We got close to another elephant without getting charged and we saw a nice group of rhinos.
The only day that we had rain was the day that we transferred sites in hilly Swaziland. We spent a couple nights at this really cool ecolodge named Phophonyane. I don't know if I have ever seen hills so green. And it proved to be a relaxing couple of days before the madness that was Kruger.
Jock Safari Lodge in Kruger Park was spectacular. In fact, 'spectacular' probably doesn't do it justic. In one trip, we saw all of the Big 5 - elephants, lions, leopard, rhinos, and buffalos. And it's not just that we saw everything: it's that we saw everything so close to us. Aside from the Big 5, we also saw zebras, giraffes, baboons, too many breeds of impala, vervet monkeys, colorful birds and more.
And it's not that we saw everything from so close. What truly made the experience amazing is that we saw so much of everything from so close. We sat next to eight sleepy lions. We drove through a herd of 28 elephants, including some babies. Because mating season was just a couple of months ago, the park was full of babies -- baby antelopes, elephants, buffalos, and rhinos were all over the place. On our very last ride, toward the very end of the trip, we saw a group of more than 100 buffalo and we came across a rare black rhino. It was a great end to a couple days on safari. The whole safari experience - for us, anyway - was exhilirating.
This whole trip wasn't just about seeing animals - it was about trying new things, doing things that we normally wouldn't do. I can't imagine anyone in my family getting in the back of a truck to get around. And eating wildebeest, ostrich, and kudu is something that you really can't do in America (and all of them were delicious). I'm really happy that they were able to see some of the things that I see on a daily basis and especially proud that they put up with all the craziness that Africa has to offer. And to see all of those animals was a real bonus. The most telling thing for me, though, is that after two weeks of Africa, my dad wants to come back some time in the future.
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