mud mud mud

Bottles tumbled from the shelves in our shower-room, things shifted and tussled making an epic ruckus… Great.. another rat. Suddenly I heard a ‘pitter patter pitter patter’ on my floor of my room, and halting beside my bed. I lifted up my mosquito net and pointed my flashlight on what I thought would be the rat, but turned out to be one of the cats I let in with a giant rat in its mouth. It then went under my bed to have a feast… I let it crunch away not wanted to discourage it from a job-well-done, and put in earplugs to muffle the sound. Not trace of any rat in the morning, other then the evidence of the cats HUGE belly.

I was at a woman’s bible study yesterday morning, and had to leave in the middle of it for a doctor’s appointment. I was dropped off at the hospital to find out some results. Of course they were not ready, so, being too cheep to want to catch and pay for a chapa, I ‘apanhar uma balaya’ (hitched-a-ride) with a bicycler passing on the street. Amazingly I found my way back to the house, and didn't have to pay for chapa fair, and had a good conversation on the way.

The boys seem very exited to try new foods, and so I made a mango-cobbler last night, and today I made Chinese for lunch > fried rice.
They love to cook their concoctions with and for me too: mango jam, mango papa (like a mango hot cereal) and we roasted cashews.

A group of us decided to walk to the beach today. It was about a 2-hour walk there through mud and fields and forest, and mud, and mud, and hidden spiky-things under the mud. Every step in the muddy water just below the knees, one wonders if the next step will bring pain with a sharp piece of something or a soothing ‘slosh’ of soft mud. We made it and the ‘beach’ was mud not sand. One can literally sink up to their ears in mud! One of the guys dared to go in and he was the one carrying the portable radio. As he kept sinking, the radio was made sure to be kept up out of the mud, and his whole body except his head and one arm was out of the mud. What a sight! The radio was rescued first, then he was able to free himself.

At the ocean we met some local fishers who live in grass houses build on the shore, and the boys asked for free fresh fish. They succeeded, so we made a little fire and put the fish right on until ready to eat. That is what I call fresh fish, it was delish!

Just got in from a grand chicken run. Since tomorrow is the American Thanksgiving, Jon is going to celebrate and we had to find and catch 7 chickens for supper tomorrow!

watch your pocket

Nov. 18 / 09 Mata o Rato

The night before last was possibly the most sleepless night I have ever had. After watching a movie with the boys, it was time to go to bed. I opened my slightly-not-closed suitcase and a giant rat sat amongst my things. I screamed a high-pitched typical ‘house-wife’ scream. In seconds the boys ran to the house ready to defend me. It was just the rat, false alarm. At least I know I will be protected on the double if any trouble does come my way. That night, that thing and perhaps many others scurried around my room, and even dared to enter my bed under my mosquito net! AH! The nerve! I probably got a total of 7 minutes of sleep, I had never been so happy to see the sun rise.

Last night the scurrying persisted, and I was awoken at 3 am. But this time, the scurrying was stuck in the corner of my room> it was trapped in the rattrap I set up with a piece of soap as bait. It was caught but still very alive. I took a brick and dropped it on the squirming body. It squealed and squirmed all the more almost getting out! I must have been in some kind of aggressive state and I was shouting at the thing telling it was not going anywhere. The brick broke in a million pieces, so I took a bigger, stronger brick and like a barbarian persisted until there was no movement. The rest of the night, scurrying persisted. At least I know that there is more then one rat in the house. But I decided I would let them scurry in, see what happened and spread the word that they are not welcome in this house.

Nov. 20 / 09 Reality Check

Fridays are a day to prepare for the Seventh day Adventists’ Sabbath. The boys prepare for Saturday and part of it is making the flat breads. Once again I end up being covered in a floury mess.

Heather and I went to town in the afternoon to pick up some things and laugh at people together. She has the same humor as me and it is so great to laugh so hard your ribs hurt and you cant possibly laugh loud enough or slap your thigh hard enough to express how funny something was or how you are feeling.

As the sun began to set its fiery ball down amongst the buildings and vendors in the city of Beira, chapas filled up quickly for those who wanted to get to their home destination. We were part of the hustle and bustle squeezing into crowds to try and get on the next chapa back to KEDESH. Heather told me how these are the kind of moments people get things stolen, and the next second she suddenly yelled at one man who tried to steal her purse! We got a couple boys from KEDESH to meet us up at the end of the road to walk us home. As we talked about our daily events and about the robber I checked to see my phone in my zipped pants pocket, which had been open and phone vacant. Great. Sorry for those who are trying to contact me and text etc, I will get you my new number as soon as I get a new phone. Could have been worse, my friend who got his phone stolen in Beira got his face punched first.

can your really chew through anything?

Nov. 14 / 09 - SLUMBER PARTY!!!

Me, Heather, Joe (UKers) and Zee (USA) went to the Nautico Club for sodas, went for an ocean swim then had lunch. The Nautico Club is a ritzy, ocean front restaurant / café, and also has a pool. Jumping into the ocean on this HOTT day was absolutely satisfying. Joe just recently bought a 4 bedroom flat and so we had a slumber party, even though each of us got our own rooms to sleep in. We got fancy cakes and had tea and sat on her second floor veranda chatting… mostly fussing over the funny, different things UKers and North American say. I want to try and adopt some > such as ‘balderdash’ Hah, makes me smile every time.

Nov. 17 / 09 – 3 months in Mozambique

13:02 - I have thought that I have been very patient with all the waiting I have practiced in these 3 months in Africa. Perhaps my patience is running thin about now. By the suggestion of colleagues I am to get my hurting feet checked out, and so yesterday I went to a foot doctor, only to be sent to another doctor, to be sent to another doctor, for them to tell me to go to the hospital. At this point it was the end of the day and was too late to chapa back to KEDESH safely and too late to go to the hospital. I had made plans with the boys to teach me to make matapa (a Mozambican dish) and felt like I was letting them down, but I had to sleep in the city. This morning I went to the hospital and waited 4 hours with colleagues. I wanted to tell him many times that I would rather just go back and not worry about it at all. Riding in a chapa 8 hours is better then 4 hours of stagnant waiting, not going anywhere, not knowing if you are or when you will be served. Turns out the doctor was not there and was not coming in. The knot in my throat swelled as I wanted to cry because the wasted time and the people I let down. The rain outside is a metaphor to how I felt all morning, but I am happy to be back at KEDESH. I am not waiting for things not to arrive.

16:48 – My hands are covered in filth. The one night I was out of my room, the rat I have been dealing with decides to take sweet action. I opened my suitcase of cloths, activities and art supplies to have found my black-India-ink bottle chewed open on all sides. Cloths, art supplies and other various items have been covered in the black ink, as well as other various things chewed. Hours of cleaning, things still are covered in a black layer (including my hands and my peeling, laminated bedroom floor). My hiking-pack on my bed had also been a place of venturing for the rat, for he chewed open bottles of liquid, which spilled on cloths and other various items, leaving interesting mixtures of smells soiling them. The rattrap set up, generously offering a delicious prune, was left untouched, and my bar of soap was ravaged instead. I’m not sure how many there are, but it or they are going to get it.

lets go eat a mango in a tree

Childhood has not left me yet. I arrived at KEDESH the boys’ orphanage in Beira yesterday and have already had so many adventures. Jon, the American who started KEDESH 17 years ago, has made this place a year-round camp. There are climbing walls, structures, obstacle courses, clay to play with, a bog to jump around, LOTS of places to run and play and climb. Great place for boys in general. This is where I will be for the 3-month African-school holidays. I am living in a mud-house with a girl named Heather. This is no ordinary mud house> we have a toilet, running water AND electricity and wireless!!!… and I have a giant waterbed by the way (which actually is FREEZING at night… which is pleasant in this HUMID / HOTT weather… so it balances out).

Today after breakfast, Heather and me went with some of the boys to dig up sweet potatoes. If you have ever done hot-yoga, you would know what I am expiriencing. It is a super humid make-you-sweat-everywhere sort of hot. It was great having conversations getting to know the boys as we worked in the sun digging up treasures in the dry earth. When it is wet we will be putting in rice patties!

So today I not only got to play in dirt, but I got in many water fights, and climbed the most AMAZING trees. I am trying to decide which kind was my favorite. To get into this huge mango tree, we had to climb a nearby tree and, like monkeys, switch branches onto the mango tree and climb up up up into the tall parts to pick off ripe mangos and eat them in this huge tree! It was ginormous… there were 8 of us in the tree… they were all much higher then I was, walking on tree limbs like they were just above the ground… and we all had our own sections of tree, not crowded at all. Some of the other great trees are cashew trees > they are lower to the ground and typically sprawl out their limbs so you can walk along them like a tight rope with other nearby branches in hand. The cashew fruit is very sweet and very juicy but some how puckers up your mouth like something dry or bitter. But excitement-wise, I find that the mango tree is more exhilarating, being SO high from the ground amongst massive leaves hiding quantities of mangos. The boys are very keen on teaching me more capoeira and tai-Kwan-do. I also went for a long walk in the machamba (vegetable crop) with Joldo the gardener who knows everything you need to know about African farming… we planted beans, then he showed me all the land and ended up sitting under cashew trees talking about plants, food, and life.

Heather and I were out to town today, and I told her how I love all the street-treats and discovering something new is always exiting and I always have to try it. She, being here almost 1 and half years has never had street food! So I bought some peanut-brittle-like bar and later some dried masanica berries, and she dared to by some peanuts. As we walked along the street we came along a vendor selling dried caterpillars. We both had never seen them before and she dared me to try one. Instead of buying a cup full, I asked to try just one. They are black, and about the size of a pinky finger. It almost tasted like dried, salted fish. We walked down the street, and Heather, being from England and very proper with a pretty accent, exclaims “You just ate a caterpillar…” and we laughed until the not understanding vendors were laughing as well. I did eat a caterpillar didn't I … perhaps again one day?
All I want to do all day is play… *sigh*- childhood is still with me ☺

sandals or not, here i come

‘Working’ is essentially exploring these days. My job for these couple days is to hop on chapas (pronounced SH-apa) and get my knowledge and bearing about Beria, the second (Maputu is the first) major city developed in Mozambique. So I went around and did more walking then anything, and explored to find many cute little cafés as I love to do. As I was making my trip back, I noticed my sandal was rubbing one of my poor feet the wrong way, making yet another sore on my beat up little foot. I bent down and tugged at it, hoping helplessly that it would make some kind of a difference. In fact, it sure did. My sandal strap snapped in between my toes and therefore became useless. I took it off and wondered if it was better walking with a sandal that rubbed my skin raw and irritated, or being humiliated by walking with one sandal and the other foot bare in the dirt. Local woman obviously thought it was a must I not be humiliated, and within only 13 steps of being sandal-less some woman came to me and pointed me to the conveniently placed man who sat under a tree repairing shoes and sandals, only another 13 steps away. For one metical (equivalent to about 3 cents), and a couple minutes he fixed my sandal and I was on my way.

HEY SISTA...im fine an you

So this last week has been wonderful sitting on multiple beaches (running in the evenings with Sara (PCV), sometimes getting washed up my the tide… why not go for a swim after!?), eating minimum of one papaya a day, enjoying deep-fried street food (my new fav> mystery bean-cakes… like mini veggie burgers), meeting up with awesome people and sharing experiences with them. I have really been blessed with the hospitality these PCVs (Peace Corp Volunteers) have, since I met most of them only once and others never before. After Vilanculos, it was time to head back to Inhassoro. Looking back on my last long chapa ride in. I decided to apanhar uma balaya (hitch-a-ride). So I walked to the main hi-way with my pack and walked a little ways, flagged down a couple cars and before I knew it I was in the back of a red truck with another fellow on a delivery. His father, driving, claimed to be American when he first talked with me. Yes, he could speak English, but sadly his Mozambican accent was a dead give-away that he had never even been to North America. They dropped my off at a crossroads, where moments later a spiffy SUV stopped, and an East Indian man came out and a Mozambican, both very wealthy. In their clean, perfumed SUV I felt very dirty and smelly and felt much more at home in the back of an open dirty truck. They drove very fast and I prayed the whole time that no big pot wholes would send us flying in the air (if we had wings on that thing I am sure we would have been air-born). I was dropped off at the last crossroads and less then a minute later was picked up by a SUV of South Africans with some oil company. The AC was almost too much I felt I was back in the Peg. Once again feeling smelly compared to the trimmed and primed company in the car. Got dropped off right at my friends place. God is good, and has protected me. > My trip was less then half the time of the first and so much more comfortable.

As of now I am in Chimoio with Jenny and Joel from MCC. Made dinner tonight, is so great to have a kitchen to myself and cook with a familiar scene and appliances. Prayer here is MUCH appreciated because today, Nadia their 4-month-old baby was diagnosed with malaria.

I have a capulanah obsession. I don't feel like buying anything else because there are so many and they are all so beautiful. I got a great tailor, Tomas, in Inhassoro to tailor me 2 dresses, a shirt and a skirt. It cost less then 8 dollars US! Hah. So now when I see a nice capulanah, I start thinking of potential cloths I can have. I bought 2 new ones today. I can’t contain myself.
As I road my bicycle back to JJ’s (Jenny and Joel) home, a little boy asked for a balaya. I told him to hop on the back-rack and took him a ways to the main road. I felt pretty African ☺ although people still look at me with curious, big smiles and still do their regular greet of "HEY SISTA!"

when will chapa rides be non-eventful?

Is there a limit to the amount of animals that can fit ontop a chapa? Apparently not. I have been in Inhassoro, running on the beach each night with Sara, and making delicious food with her and Hans (the 2 Peace Corp volunteers). Life is not too bad. Today I bought a fresh papaya and left for Inhassoro by chapa. If I had taken a car it would be about an hour drive. With a chapa, once again, you never know. Sometimes I wish I could have someone with me just to laugh at the things I see. To so many people it is just everyday-life. After loading and unloading the chapa with people and cargo, stuffing it so full you would think that it was going to burst (it actually had burst > the door popped off the hinges and two old ladies and a man were hanging out the open door side), they stopped to load up 4 one-hundred pound bags of salted/dried fish on top the chapa and then on the other side of the street 5 full-grown, live goats bleating their terrible cries. Of course 3 minutes later a bouquet of chickens (4 chickens tied together at the legs) was added to the sagging top-rack…a couple more minutes a man carrying a duck and a rooster entered… the trip was easily over 3 hours. Finally got into Vilanculos alive an well…papaya still in tacked.

Last of Machanga for 2009... i will return

Oct. 20

Quickest chapa ride yet! Only took 8 and half hours to get from Beira to Machanga. On the way here, we saw 4 flipped-over vehicles. 2 in the ditch, one was a semi, and 2 some how, upside-down in the middle of the road, they were both other chapas. Scary,,, this just goes to show that taking a chapa ride is no picnic in the park.

Back at home, after getting off the chapa and starting my journey down the path to the center, my running buddies – the group of about 8 little girls, took my things for me and carried it to the center for me. Laughing all the way of course. I was greeted by the wonderful hugs, kisses and greetings from the girls. I had bought ¾ inch irrigation tubing to make hoola-hoops. We got 6 out of the 20 meters I bought and I got out the ribbon and colored electrical tape to decorate. It is all of their first time, you can already tell whom are the naturals.

A favorite night activity for the girls is watching movies. The other night we watched “Happy Feet” which is an animated film about a penguin who can not sing, but can dance > another branch off of the ugly duckling. The day after, Tia Cacilda and I were eating lunch together and she said she had a question for me. She asked if the birds in the movie really could talk English, or if it were men in suits that were dancing and singing. It is difficult to explain ‘digital animation’ when neither of us have the capacity to explain or understand this type of vocabulary in Portuguese.

I have made connections with Peace Corp. and a couple girls on another Mozambiquan sight donated 2 huge sacs of cloths. We distributed them, Tia Cacilda helps arrange the fairness> the cloths set in a pile then girls line up and take what was on top. I found it funny that she would snatch a nice piece out and wait for another girl she favors come to give it to them… so much for fair. She held a gnarly broom-like-branch to chase away the swarm of girls from the pile of goods> she looked threatening, and was not afraid to bat away those not listening… we all had a good laugh though. Once all had been chosen, we had a fashion show down the red-carpet…. which was actually my orange yoga-matt. Nonetheless, they loved it and their sweet new garb. The left over’s I gave to Tio Jeorge, our guard, and Tio Machau, our cook. They took each peace with happiness, no cloths seem to go to waist, they have some family connection, wife’s and kids, that can make use of it all.

Oct 21 / 09 > Journey to Salina

My feet have really taken a beating these last months and as a result have pretty cut up feet. Me and Richie, one of the peace corp guys herd of this place that people go to collect salt. It is a giant salt deposit near Machanga. He was given general directions by a young boy he knows and we were off after having a big Mozambiquan breakfast at their place > French fries, tomato and onion salad, eggs and bread. It was about 7 kilometers, and we asked many people along the way to redirect us. A man gave us his kids to take us there, and the rest of the kids in the area followed suit of course. We defiantly would not have made it there without them. We walked through remote land with random huts and the kids that lead us didn't even speak Portuguese! Suddenly we came to a desert like clearing where is looked like a lake surrounded by snow, but was actually salt. Women were in there with buckets collecting huge salt crystals. I HAD to experience the magic so I took off my shoes to bare my beat up feet. I stepped one step into the salt covered matope (mud) and wanted to scream. The burning sensation was seriously the most, to put it nicely, sensational feeling I have ever felt. I made squeals and yelps as I took steps deeper in towards a group of woman. The kids loved the entertainment. I made it in, mud up to the knees and a layer of salt on top, with about half a foot of water on top of that. Every step was like a slow-motion picture, very difficult to walk. I got out and couldn't put my shoes on with my mud-covered feet, so I proceeded walking it off. Unfortunately the EXTREMELY HOTT sand didn't do my feet so good. I screamed and ran to the nearest shrub for a shadow. The little escorts, who also were barefoot, laughed and jumped with joy at my actions. They took me back to their house so I could be washed up and shoes put back on for our journey home. Mission accomplished.

Oct. 24 / 09

My feet are a big show these days. When I first came my feet were just interesting because they were white, now they are fascinating because they are swollen. My toes and right foot blew up and the intense heat sure does not help. The little bit of pealed skin has been infected and irritated by the mass amounts of dust and dirt that enter on a continual basis, and the amounts of activity I like to do. I stayed off my feet yesterday and the girls were sure to come to see how I was as well as Tia Cacilda to clean them often, by sticking rough rags between my tender toes. She is my Mai de Africa.

School is over, and all girls left expert 15. It was a exiting but sad morning to see them off. Yesterday, I baked a cake for them and we strategically tried to cut it into 40 pieces in the dark with a flashlight, ya right… when the flash-light quit working, the cake magically disappeared instantly. Everyone got at least a taste. I made a good-bye speech and told them how I will miss them and can’t wait to see them when we all return in February. Gave them Canadian hugs and Mozambican kisses on each cheek. It is VERY quiet without all the singing and laughing right now. Time to do some art, reading and reflecting I guess.

Oct. 25 / 09

This energy thing is getting pretty difficult. I can’t charge anything here, internet has not been working at all and I have more devices then I can handle that have to be plugged in. I am not a high-maintenance person, but in this community my needs exceed the average person.

One of our girls has disappeared. She left the center this afternoon with her things, unannounced. This is very strange, since she seemed fine here, she has no family anywhere near here, and she never indicated anything to anyone.

I think my bed has mystery bugs. I have a lot of itchy bites that are not mosquito bites. Time to wash my sheets?

I had my first chicken in the center! We have been eating that crazy mini-dried shrimp with sand bits in it for a LONG time, lunch and supper. Now that 25 of the 40 girls left, I guess we can be a little more creative with food choices and splurge! It was so delicious.

Got some yarn given to me, and I broke out the crochet hooks and the girls went to it. Since they are amazing with their fingers in hair and strings etc, they are very good at crocheting! For most of them it was their first time to get a-hold of these materials, but it came naturally.

Madinha > What a gem. She is a very well off, large woman who is over generous; more then words can explain. She put ointment on my gross feet, vigorously brushes my messy hair (ripping most of it out), feeds me cheese, deep-fried things, shrimp, and give me refrescos every time I come just to say ‘hi’. I know that when I can’t bare to eat anymore of this sandy shrimp, I will just wait it out and visit her shop and I am sure to be filled to the brim. We are making a cake together tomorrow ☺

I made a big mistake. The girls were sitting around doing each others nails. Instead of using nail polish they mixed some ‘black henna’ in a water-bottle cap and put the gunk on their nails with a little stick. They asked if I would like to try. Being me, always trying almost everything once, I said yes. I asked what the result would be, thinking a orangey-red. But no… > black. I immediately started scpraping my nails on the back of the chair… they noticed and asked what was wrong. I washed my nails and scrubbed it off, leaving me with one black-nailed hand. They said it was beautiful, and asked if I would like my other one done up. I didn't really try to explain ‘goth’ to them, but told them that it wasn't very appealing to me. Silly mazungu.

Oct 28 / 09 Dia de Votar!

Today voting day for elections in Mozambique. Medinha invited me to come join her in Mambone. Like I have said before : She is one well-off woman. I was surprised we ended up walking to the river and some one did not carry her in a chariot-like contraption. It was so hot out, and when the days activities were done we bathed in the river! It was the most refreshing thing ever! I laughed so hard at my whiteness, I think I look as strange to myself as I do to everyone else since I am so used to seeing their cocoa skin. I added quiet a bit of salt to the salty river with all my sweat washing off.

I think I could live here with no money and never go hungry. I have had so many lunch, refresco and food offers from so many people that if I keep rain checks I will never go hungry. For the little that people have, they love to give. Africa is very generous and I have learnt that if people have something, they share it until it is gone. That also is part of the result of why there is so much poverty. They feel obligated that if they have a lot of something, it must be shared. So they give it away. Or others will notice this wealth and ask for it, and so the person with surplus feels obligated to give or to spend this wealth so they use it up, and have full benefit before people can ask for it. This may all seem complicated, and perhaps I cant explain in better terms, but the book “African Friends and Money Matters” by David Maranz explains this and many other interesting insights on the African financial system.

Now that I am comfortable with the language, Machanga feels more and more like home everyday. I will have to adapt quickly to a new world as I am leaving for a 3 month period to work in Beira. Sad to leave my girlies! We are now so comfortable with each other, as we dance together to second-hand music from a house that has energy and speakers after supper in the moon-light. *sigh*

Corizon de boi! > Heart of a bull… another one of my favorite fruits! That, and leechies. Corizon de boi, I think is also known as jack fruit, has almost a yogurt-pear like texture capturing black seeds. Tangy and delish! Spiky on the outside. Mangos are ripe in about a week! Can’t wait!


Oct 31 / 09 Halloween

Got things packed, last night me and the girls watched “Ever After” and ate cakes we made, and popcorn. Since there is only 15 of us watching, we could hear the words and sounds coming from the computer, it was no longer drowned out by 40 girls reacting to the strange and new things they saw actors do.

Jenny and Joel were heading to Inhassoro for a holiday, and I have Peace Corp connection down there so I tagged along and now am in one of their houses about a 4 minute walk from turquoise ocean. You can see it from my doorway. We went for a long run on the beach yesterday, and my poor feet not accustomed to sand-runs got blood blisters. Common LEX> take care of your feet! But it was so worth it.

Me, Sara, Emily and Hans got dressed up for Halloween. I was a butterfly using a pretty capulanah as my wings. People who saw us thought we were crazy. There are a lot of South-Africans here that don't even understand. To be honest, this was my first year not going “trick-or-treating”!

dont throw off my groove

While traveling alone, I am never really alone. My visa for Mozambique expired and so I had to leave the country. I traveled into Zimbabwe on a short chapa-ride from Chimoio. The first half of the trip I sat beside a sweetie-pie of a man who talked with me cautioning me of the dangers in Africa. He got off at the city of Manica and other passengers filed in. At the border I got out and was immediately followed by a fellow. Passion is a commonly used word in Mozambiquan Portuguese. He told me how he had passion for me… him and all the other Mozambqiuan poets. However, he was able to help me walk through the steps to get my Zimbabwean visa.

On the other side, in Zim, a taxi picked me up. My drivers name was Harry. An awesome guy! His car has had it, and next time I go to Zim I doubt that thing will still be running. He dropped me off at a hostel-house that was recommended to me. 99 – Fourth St. At the gate a small pear-shaped Zimbabwean woman named Emma greeted me. She lead me in the house and showed me her family who lives with her as well as all the rooms and told me to choose one. Super-quaint little place. Her son showed me a good restaurant for lunch. If I were to open a place that place would be pretty much IT. I ate outside in an Aunty-Laurie-decorated garden (if you know my Aunty-Laurie and her purple-house and multiple-award-winning garden, you will understand). Everyone there seemed to be white and had prestigious accents, but it was wonderful. I even proceeded to talk with a British accent…in my head. :)


I walked, (in terrible sandals that did more harm then bare feet would have), and came upon the most beautiful park! Zimbabweans sure know how to make a nice landscape, or rather to place a path in perfect splendor. As I walked oohhing and ahhhing at the different flowers and trees around me, I lowered my chin to focus my vision on dozens of little monkeys running around me. I could never have imagined something more magical.

Zimbabwe has gone through some recent economic problems and is now, just recently, using ONLY US cash. There seems not to be the existence of coins. So at the grocery store when I bought a yoghurt, my 13 cents was paid to me in a couple pieces of bubble-gum. It was not just me, each costumer in like was handed a couple bubble-gum depending on how much was to be repaid.

During the evening, I went back to my cute little house and met 2 interesting woman, one from Australia, the other from UK, both living in Zim for the majority of their lives. One was a chain smoker, the other obese. They invited me to chat with them as they drank their wine and ate their sliced cheese.

The rest of the night I spent with Emma and her family. They invited me to watch “Big Brother Africa” as Amanda, Emma’s’ daughter plaited (braided) my hair. Simply the worst show I have ever witnessed. They were so into it.

I have defiantly surpassed my previous record of how many cute cafés I have gone to in the same day. Mutare, Zimbabwe is absolutely littered with wonderful cafés and teahouses. In less then 2 days in Mutare I went to 8 different places! Now I know, it was just gluttonous. I ended up meeting someone interesting at each place, either a worker of the café, or a local resident. I have numbers and cards of each person as well as had an invitation for a ladies-dinner with a couple of UK girls. Next time I go to Mutare, I will have numerous places to stay, as well as personal tour guides.

The chapa ride from the border to Chimoio was quite hilarious. I sat in the front middle beside the driver and a fat, friendly woman. She has 4 boys and no daughters. We joked around and I told her I could be her daughter she never had, she was so happy. The back of the chapa was filled with boys/ men. The whole 4-hour ride I got taps on the shoulder from them asking me whom I choose as my boyfriend. The cobrador (the money manager of the chapa) told each new passenger that entered the chapa that I was his love. Once again I was the entertainment of the evening.

Jon is someone I think I will get along with real well. He also works for MCC up in the Mozambiquan province of Tete building sand-dams. He and I are continuously called the two most enthusiastic people in MCC. Back in Chimoio, staying at Jenny and Joel’s house (more country reps), we made real chai tea, real stove-popped popcorn then watched the ‘Emperors New Groove’.

thanks giving

How will I ever make it home without taking some little children home? They are too cute. The other night, having to be home before the gate shuts at 18:00 and the sun is down, I started running down the path. i was followed by a group of little girls who screamed with joy “VAMOS CORRER!” (Lets run). They giggled all the way down dirt road with me. When we reached my destination I lifted my hand to HI-5 the four little girlies. With scared faces they suddenly turned to run back, I quickly told them to wait, not to be scared and called them over to teach them what a HI-5 was and said “chau amigas!”. They were enamored. The next day one of the girls came to the center to give me a gift. It was a plastic bag of batata doce > sweet potatoes. She had dug them from her garden all by herself for me. What I am going to do with all those potatoes I don't know, but I was thrilled.

So I have many secret goals or fetishes if you will, that I have developed over the years: becoming a bee-keeper, riding a lion, back-flipping, etc etc etc… before I come back to Canada, I will have succeeded at at-least one of those goals. I went to KEDESH, which is a boys orphanage in Beira. The boys are full of energy, ranging from around 8 – 19 years old. They found out I do some capoeria and when they heard I was coming for a night they put on a show of dancing, singing, karate, and capoeira, as well as other talents. So today, I told them I have to learn to back flip. All morning I was being lifted up in the air and flipped backwards by the guys at the orphanage. I am determined to learn to do it independently… I will succeed . The boys were definitely exited to have another girl there, and loved that I could hoola-hoop and walk on my hands. They are naturally better then me at both. I intend to spend the 3 months that I girls in Machanga are not at the center (November, December, January) here with Heather, the English girl who has been working here almost 2 years, and John, the one who started the KEDESH boys orphanage. I had stayed the night and in the morning we made personal flat breads. Some put cinnamon spices, other fresh coriander or onions from the garden inside their bread. John knows what kind of fun boys like to have and allows almost everything, no matter how distructive or messy it may be. In short, we had a water and flour fight. By 10am I was covered in flour and water from having flour fights with the boys. The shy young boys warm up to you so fast, and I had kids sneaking up on me with handfuls of flour in minutes> It was as if I was being initiated.

Me, Heather and Zee (another North American girl who works at another orphanage a 30 second walk from KEDESH) went out to a café called Riviera and had refrescos (too hot for hot coffee) and pastries. *sigh* one of my most favorite things ☺

Happy ThanksGiving! Going for a good chicken dinner at the Country-Reps house. Getting HOTT over here! For that I am thankful.

bofar

You know you are making it somewhere with language when you begin to communicate feelings. The other night I sat under the stars with Tio George our guard, and Tia Amelia. We talked about God and religion. I surprised myself that I understood the things I did. Last night I had one of the best conversations with the girls. I was taught the verb “to fart” in Portuguese and Ndau. It was possibly the funniest conversation I have had.

A group of Canadians came in to Machanga for the purpose of creating plans for a new girls centre in a new villa that is being created. Having 5 white MEN come into the GIRLS center was a big deal. They observed each of them very carefully. As the Tia’s and me sat from a slight distance from the group of talking men they told me the things they observed. How many times one went to the latrine indicated he had diarrhea, or how the hair in-between ones eyes could be braided. These women have more of a personality then one may think at first. Once you start to get in on the language, a whole new world is opened. I was asked to translate a lot of the trip back, and I was so surprised at how much I can translate and understand. Being here for these 2 months I have learnt so much and feel so at home, I feel proud to call the rural Machanga, out-in-the-bush-middle-of-who-knows-where, my home.

At the moment I am back in Beira, just got in from a delicious meal, outdoors on the oceanfront. The center has gone through a slight dry spell in food because of problems with transportation, and miniature-dried shrimp (with grains of sand unfiltered throughout) has been served for lunch and dinner for the past week. It was a DELIGHT to have a vegetable curry dish! Sand not included.

PS> if you want to see more photos, go to my facebook page: Alexis Goertz, it is easier to upload photos there :)

collecting conches in the morning

September 27, 2009

I have started to run in Machanga. Saturday and Sunday, 5 am, I led the whole group of bare-foot girls running around the district of Machanga. Mid-run we stop in the soccer campus to stretch, do yoga and other aerobic and anaerobic exercises. No one here has yoga mats to keep their bums clean, we are pretty much rolling around in the dirt and welcome that bucket shower with open arms when we return.

Yesterday was a day of WAITING. The church had a party to celebrate the end of the week party is just had (they have any excuse to party). Party is usually revolved around the food. There defiantly was a lot of food; I just had to wait until 4:30 pm to have lunch. It was a lot to prepare, and I got right in the kitchen-hut to see the action, and got some good photos and video of chicken slaughterings. I ate some pretty good duck too.

There are little quarks and cultural differences that I am picking up on. Expressions such as, “chEE!” and “Ai-bahhhhh”. When we ran past smelly cow-dung everyone spat on the ground in disgust. Also, in Machanga, everyone is “EE-way”. Direct translation – YOU.

Today I held a birthday party for the girls who have a birthday in September. We went out to buy ingredients then spent the whole afternoon making 2 cakes. One girl took over claiming she knows best. She wouldn't even let me crack my own eggs that I bought! Nonetheless, the cakes turned out. Since it was cloudy the solar panels did not get very much sun to turn to energy so we had our party by carocene lamplight. I showed photos of Canada, which they found VERY interesting.

September 30, 2009

People constantly talk about how Machanga “talks”, or gossips if you will. One can’t walk out of their house without being asked “Onde via?” (Where are you going?), and later that afternoon the whole district knows what you were up to. It doesn't help that I am the only white girl here and since I speak a little Ndau, they love to greet me then ask where I am going in Ndau. They get a kick out of it every time. I have befriended many people, and some of the best cooks, I have gone for lunch three times with this Indian woman, Zianabu, and had delicious food. Its good to change up my palate a little. Madinia, the large, friendly woman at another shop loves to sit with me. They were selling apples and I had to get one (even though one apple was over 50 cents), and she brought me out a fresh piece of cake and a coke with it. A bit of a contrast from a healthy fruit, but it was nonetheless delish cake. I am known now as the runner, and countless people know I am training the girls ‘gymnastica’, sports, capoeira etc, and have asked me to train them (guys included). Madinia is one of them. She gave me a capolanah that she said she used to fit, but is no use to her now. Tia Casilda seemed a little jealous that I have only been here less then 2 months and have received a free capulanah and she never has. Then she went ahead and asked for my other one. I said no. She has MANY; I think it was one of her little tests. She keeps mentioning how she has no money, and I go in to a shop with my friend Alberto and there she is with Tia Amelia having a coke, with a new capulanah in hand. She and Alberto then bickered on who was going to buy me a refresco. Cant say I don't feel loved ☺

Everyday is such an adventure with the girls. I love that I teach them; I never thought I would love sharing things so much, I know that I love learning, but really giving is so much better then receiving when you get the responses that these girls give. I know that my language is really coming along when I can have deep conversations with the girls, and during our English lesson on Monday some of the girls stayed after and we got to talk about boys: their favorite subject.

Paulina, what a gem. She is one of the smaller and younger girls (15) but defiantly one of the brightest. Like Tia Casilda says she has a “cabeza fresca”, a fresh mind. She has loads of creativity and catches onto ideas faster than anyone, and does everything without difficultly. I had given her half a coconut one day and she continuously comes to my room to hand me a little toffee or hard candy. A family from Manitoba is coming down to the center to see it and donate money, and so I said the girls should put on a show. So we have been working on making some theater, and Paulina has written a script all herself, and got me to translate parts of it in English. They are using my stuffed lamb as a baby, and I let her sleep with it that night. The next day she carried it around with her in a capulanah all day like a baby.

Last night I joined in on the dancing in the misty rain in the dark night with the girls. Hip-hop and rap they sung and clapped and I was pushed in the middle. It was so energizing, these sort of moments you cannot take a picture of, only have them stored in your heart.

October 5, 2009 – Vilanculos

Friday I headed out to the beautiful area of Vilanculos with Richard and Lee the two white guys living here in Machanga with Peace Corps. Our adventure began after leaving early in the morning, crossing the river on a canoe, waiting for a chapa to drop us off at the main highway #1, then waiting to a balaia> “hitchhike”. We didn't wait terribly long until we got into the back of a giant semi. We three sat behind the driver and his colleague on the mattress. Plenty of space, comfy ride and free.

We arrived in Vilanculos and I was warned by many not to be too jealous or compare lives with Machanga. It sure is different. It was my first time seeing an ocean that crystal clear and sand so fine. The girls we stayed with had the sweetest house made out of bamboo. We got the guest house, also amazing, witch is directly on the ocean, so I woke up in the morning to a sun rise and a sun set directly behind me; windows strategically placed so I can enjoy both from the king-sized bed in the loft of the house.

Since it is quite a touristy area, people can speak more English, and try to practice it with you WAY more then Machanga. I don't know how much more I could take it if I lived there.

I made a rookie mistake and put my trust in an area I was not familiar with. I left my beautiful gladiator sandals 10 meters away from where I was collecting conch-shells on the beach, 2 people walked past, I returned and they were gone. Robbers are plenty, and it is not as small of a community like Machanga, where I can walk around the market and see who has new sandals. I looked for them in the market but had no luck.

Peace core is a great organization. There are volunteers all over the world doing pretty much the same thing as I am. Richard and Lee have tones of other colleagues there and all over Mozambique. We had a get together and I got to meet a group of awesome people who have experienced Mozambique for a year and some people 2 years. It was so great to talk with them and see that this is a place they love and know very well. I now have connections all the way down to Maputo.

Our plan was to leave Sunday morning, but the chapa never ended up coming, and Sundays are hard day to hitchhike out of Vilanculos, so we decided to go out for pizza, lay on the beach, buy some local art and stay the extra day. It was not a hard decision and a well spent extra day ‘stuck’ in Vilanculos.

phantom of the africa

I ran my first yoga/workout classes yesterday with the girls. I have some yoga books, which I got them to choose out fun positions. Technique is defiantly not the goal at this point, but rather to try new things and expand horizons. After, I broke out some skipping ropes and showed them my moves I can do on a single rope. Then they showed me their games and moves in groups. They defiantly showed me a solid part of their culture > they work together. I can do really well skipping by myself, but they do really well, (and fast!) when they jump together and synchronize. Perhaps this year in Africa will teach me to synchronize. It is one of those things I need to work on, and they don't let me go a day without hearing “Vai solzinha!?” (You’re going ALONE!?).

I have made friends with a young woman who lives next to the center with her husband who is a policeman in Machanga. Vania is her name and is so sweet. I’m not sure if we connected because she speaks Portuguese and does NOT speak Ndau (she is from Xai Xai, not Machanga) or because she likes to bake. But I asked her to teach me to bake a cake the African way, over a charcoal Mozambican stove. It took the whole afternoon but was absolutely delish. We sat on a bamboo mat outside and talked and drank apple juice as the sun and cake baked. She told me that the trick is to put coals on top of the lid so the top of the cake gets done just right. My plan is to bake with the girls for birthdays etc.

As I have mentioned, I have made friends with many people in town. One of the shops invited me for lunch today. Family and friends from Portugal came. It is a Mozambiquan woman and a Portuguese (from Portugal) man who own the shop. They are quiet well off considering the quality and type and amount of food and drink that was served. I thought that we were done after having GIANT (and so delicious) shrimp and clams, but then fish came after. Then goat and French fries, etc etc etc. I was quite stuffed and before they could shove more food in me, luckily I had Tia Casilda come to take me away. She is quite protective and watchful over me.

Today, the 25th is Mozambique’s independence day, so it was another holiday. The presidents wife came to speak, so people gathered with drums and music and energy. The girls and I just finished watching Phantom of the Opera. I was actually my first time seeing it, but they were totally enthralled even though they could not understand most of it. I explained the story line as we went along. I want to have a movie night once a week, to keep me sane, them educated and all of us entertained.

im connected! its a miracle

September 19, 2009 > my voyage ‘home’

Early this morning I was dropped off at the chapa stop. I was very pleased for this time the chapa was one of the reject-Chinese-tourist buses which is much larger and more comfortable then the chapa-vans that I usually get (around town is okay, but over 10 hours is difficult to stay in one sweaty position with multiple packages and pineapples on lap). This chapa driver was an investor I could tell, he was the only owner of this vehicle, had a cell-phone in hand, a flash-drive for music, stereo and sub-woofer. I was seated the row behind the driver, there was a seat empty beside me so I had enough room to move my legs and pack. Techno music blasted and it was overcast so it wasn't too hot. This was going to be one good ride home.

I woke up 2 hours into the trip because I could not breath. The engine was beneath my feet and it was defiantly crapping out. We went in first gear for a while and I watched as the poor driver sweated and fretted until we came to a stop… luckily in a little town so that locals could sell us food and drink. The driver lifted the hatch and started cutting oily tubes and tightening things; techno music still blasting, vehicle still running. I thought the engine would blow my face off so I exited the vehicle for the couple hours we were stranded. I practiced my Ndau with another stranded woman who has patience for my limited speech. She is Catholic and we prayed together so we could get going. When we were finally on our way, I was amazed the vehicle still worked. I really have to give the driver a hand> Usually the chapa drivers have young boys as helpers and go-to’s but this man fixed that engine, unloaded luggage and people, collected money, etc all himself.

Home sweet home. Machanga is known for its dust. Since my door is not insolated, and has a fairly large crack underneath, all my stuff inside my room has a nice layer of dust. Just add water, instant matope! (mud).

September 21, 2009 > Ring the Gong

Today I started my teaching schedule. The girls go to school in 2 different shifts, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. So I gathered all the girls together yesterday, Sunday afternoon, to explain to them the many ideas I have. We discussed some things and I wrote down our activities for the week on a calk board they have. Today we constructed a calendar, tomorrow we will sing and dance, Wednesday we will draw, Thursday is yoga and gymnastics, Friday: English. The plan is to teach for at least an hour, 8 am for the morning crew, and 2 pm for the afternoon crew. The calendar making was a hit and a good group working exercise since there are only 12 months and 40 girls. Leadership roles are evident in activities such as these. Also, I have an idea to design a mural with the girls and paint it on the wall of the cement dorm. This exercise is great to see who really has the eye for art.

Tia Casilda was actually gone visiting family, and just arrived today. She was not shy when coming into my room and wanting to inspect the new things I had brought. Hoping the girls keep enjoying the learning activities I provide, and I don't run out of ideas too fast! I think they are becoming more comfortable with me, I was asked to teach them capoeira yesterday afternoon, and they ask if I want to go water the community garden with them. As well, the community seems to all know my name. Even people I have never formally met, and I have other girls outside the Center asking if I can teach them capoeira as well. If I want to get to a destination on foot by 10 I should leave by 8:30, because there are ALWAYS people on the way and you cannot just walk away from the conversation even if you are busy, they always assume the other person will understand… and here… usually they do.

September 23, 2009 > 2 scoops, only 2 scoops

So far my one-hour ‘classes’ with the girls are extended past the given hour for extra practice or more activities. Yesterday singing was a huge hit, I taught ‘lean on me’ and ‘kum-ba-ya’. Today we drew portraits. It is so interesting to get to know personalities with these activities we do. Who is out-going, who is artsy, leadership roles etc.

Today Tia Cacilda informed me there was a ‘faliciamento’ and asked it I wanted to go. I feel committed to these hours I set with the girls and had a class in the next hour so I let her go alone. After the art lesson I was very curious what this ‘faliciamento’ was, so I asked the girls to show me where Tia went so I could go to. Perhaps some party? They told me to put on a lenco (head scarf) and a blouse. When the girl who took me got to a certain distance, she pointed to the house I was to go to, and she turned and left after giving instructions on the kind of greeting I should say and what they will respond with. So I followed instructions and got to the house with dozens of woman sitting on the ground. People in this area know me, although I don't know them, and I was called to sit with someone. I still did not see Tia. One lady asked if I would like to go to the other place with her, and I was curious so I did. When I got there, there was hundreds of woman sitting on the grass, other woman in a line that entered a circle of mango trees that form a sort-of house of trees. Loud wailing was herd, coming from in the trees. I was told to take off my sandals and get in line. Inside the tree clearing men gathered around the grave of a woman with 2 nearly born babies, and us woman in the line assembled to the grave to scoop two scoops of sand to burry the three. Luckily I was after a couple hundred women and so I could not see a body. Everything was very symbolic, and then after we left the tree line, people checked themselves and went back to their daily lives. Death is part of life, and they realize it in Africa. It is just sad to know that there were two lives that didn't have a chance.

walk on water

I thought I had run out of pigment, but it seems that each day I end up with fresh tan lines. My face, arms and below the knee are Brazilian dark, but the rest looks like… well like a doll got put together with the wrong torso in the toy-factory.

Jenny and Joel took me to a cute café for lunch. A British woman came in with some Africans, ordered some wine and practically spit it out calling that it tasted wrong. So they cracked open a new bottle. Under her breath she complained it tasted the same. Perhaps it didn't occur that she is ‘not in Kansas anymore’. We three couldn't help but wonder what she was doing in Mozambique. Actually, Chimoio is populated with quiet a few Brazilians I have noticed, and I have been mistaken for one more often then not. It is more of a city setting then rural, so it is okay for woman to wear pants/ capris.

Joel and I took the afternoon to visit Gondola, a city just 30 mins outside of Chimoio; Lots of vegetation and red earth roads. We went down a sloping path with a gorgeous view of other huts and banana trees below to our left. The man we visited had a wife and 9 kids; one in particular kept watching me, and each time I smiled at her she broke into intense laughter and hid behind her father then came out to wait until I looked again. As we began to leave she came close to me, I put out my hand and she grabbed it and smiled so hugely, but not too sure what to do with it but examine it while still keeping watch on my face to see my reaction. She just won my heart; outrageous and mischievous laughter in her dirty-pink-corduroy-dress. I took a shot of her and her little sister, and before I knew it a whole slew of kids came into the shot and screamed when they saw their very own self’s on the small screen on my camera. It never gets old.

Shopping. This is always an adventure. I can honestly testify that all my life in Winnipeg and I have hated shopping. I literally get a headache when stepping into a mall. BUT shopping in Africa is different. It is actually one of my favorite pass-times. The markets are ALWAYS full of people, selling, buying, and dealing. I am always wondering what goodies each person has to offer; bolos (like donuts), sugar cane, roasted corn on the cob (not like Canada thinks, hard so you flake of the kernels and crunch on them), bananas, refrescos (coke, fanta) etc. It may help to make little comparisons of my loves for the shopping in the different places I have stayed at. In Machanga as you walk along the road each hut seems to sell something, usually a type of fish, dried or fresh. Chimoio has Mozambique’s’ largest veggie market. My favorite thing in Beira so far is the ever so popular Chinese shops. They sell cheep imports of everything. It is like a dollarama but with crazy shoes and funny captions on items straight from China. All places, I have noticed, sell crackers, bananas, refrescos, and other sweets in little set-ups along the street. There is no lack of munchies where ever one walks. I also find it hilarious that the SHOPRITE’s (like our SAFEWAY) here blast pop music on their speakers so it sometimes is uncomfortably loud. Lastly I love delving into an outdoor market, getting lost in the mazes of capulanas, shacks closely knitted together, hand-made goodies everywhere, and not knowing where to get out or where ever your got in. exhilarating

Today I just went to visit two orphanages near Beira in order to see what others non-Africans are doing in Mozambique. The two orphanage set-ups are very different but conveniently right beside each other (30 second walk in-between). One is just for boys, which a man named Tom has started. There is a tree-house dorm for the boys, soccer field, baseball pitch, hundreds of pineapples, a cashew orchard, etc etc etc. It is a paradise! One woman from England, Heather, has been at the boys orphanage for over a year and really would like me to come join her. I think a large chunk of my 3 months break (Nov, Dec, Jan when the Machanga girls center has a school break) I will be spending time at this orphanage. I think we will get along really well.
I think I did the most amazing thing since sliced bread > I walked on water. Well.. they have this swamp that is 2 meters deep, but the grass has grown over so thick that if you jump out far enough and land on the grass-paddy you can walk on it! I missed part of the jump off and one of my legs dunked in, but I made it (I was in a skirt okay!). It was like a giant waterbed! Or a ground that moved like jello! It was so sensational.

The orphanage next door to the only-boys one, is a girls and guys orphanage which a very artsy woman started. Also another paradise!

I am doing a pile of computer stuff all night before I head out again on Saturday, but I will have perhaps some connection this time around. Please email, call / text my cell 011-258-824276276. Will try to upload pictures and perhaps videos soon! keep an eye out> have some good ones of capoeira back-flips on the beach!

cheers

drink your juice and leave sinhorita

Happy birthday my little niece Gwyn! (Her first birthday was yesterday)

Yesterday morning in Beira, I woke up at 6 am to go to the beach and run. I encountered some guys training capoeira (Brazilian martial arts). Of course I couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste so we talked and I ended up training with them also. Black guys can jump! Back-flips, side flips, spins, kicks. It was great trying, but VERY difficult in sand and water but all the more amazing. That morning I left to Chimoio, in the province of Manica, Mozambique. The chapa was larger and pristine compared to the one I arrived to Beria in. I sat beside a friendly woman with one eye, and a young girl who gave me three bananas that she bought out of the window just when I was really craving them. I must have looked really hungry. I had bought a newspaper to practice Portuguese, but the woman in front of me asked to read it… then the man beside her, and the person behind me. The trip was 4 hours long and the whole bus had read my newspaper except me.

Chimoio is absolutely gorgeous! Hills, vallies, red dirt, lots of vegetation, and veggies at the market. I just got back from the best bike ride ever. I am staying with Joel and Jenny and baby Nadia (MCCers), and lent me their bike. I was gone for about 3 hours exploring. It was another one of those times where you say “Ya, its just like I wanted, it’s the Africa I pictured”, the way the scenery is with the trees, the people, the heat the smell. I biked with the one speed bike on red dirt roads in the mountains of Chimoio. Of course another biker caught up to me to talk. I never lack free Portuguese practice when I go out on my own. I ended up in the places cars can’t go, only crazy me on a bike and people on foot. Everyone sold crackers, biscuits, peanuts and pop on the sides, or their veggies and fruit. I stopped in at a bar to get some cold juice. One man came up to me and told me to finish my juice and leave because I am a prime target with my purse and bike. I thanked the guy for being honest, finished my juice and left the interesting but sketchy neighborhood. I went to a crazy market and bought a pirated CD of some good African tunes.

Voting time is soon and cars, motorcycles, bikes, and carts are going up and down the streets yelling “VOTA VOTA!” (VOTE VOTE) and other various things, with the photos of politicians printed on capulanas and flags waving. I am always surprised at the funny things capulanas have on them. One I saw had pictures of needles all over it as an add against AIDS (SIDA in Portuguese) and others had pictures of missing people, or wanted people printed on them. I tend to go for classic African patterns rather than ads.

Just got in from having Mozambique’s best pizza here in Chimoio. It was fantastic! I have had other African pizza, and thought that they would never be able to understand what pizza is, but this was delish. I am indulging over here, because it is soon that I head out to the bushes of Machanga and eat rice for each meal.

3 weeks of non stop action!

OKAY FOLKS! HERE IS IT! 3 weeks of action in the bushes of Africa! I have just arrived COVERED in dust. I am now black, and everyone else white. Fresh pineapples, cashews, bananas and sweets shoved in my face every stop for over 10 hours! BUT I am now here, where internet lives. If you have a cup of tea (iced tea would be nice about now) and some pop corn, feel free to read my adventure thus far!

First day in Machanga: Aug 19^th

Well, Steve and me woke up at 4:30 am to get packed and leave on our endeavor to Machanga. Our plan was to leave yesterday, so we got all packed up but got rained out, and had to turn back. So we picked up Joao (a local who works with Steve at the MCC office), and Mr. Magengue (the pastor of a local church) with all my loot at headed out. Unfortunately we got quite far out until Steve realized he had the wrong license/registration for the truck we were in and had to turn back to get it. So our 8-hour trip already added on an hour. The truck was literally packed with my stuff and so I couldn’t move for hours> I better get used to it, because it is how it will be transporting in-between Beira and Machanga the rest of the year. It was hours until we hit the first rest stop and Joao bought us some locally roasted cashews form a vendor… soooo good… freshly roasted and since they are local a 2 lb bag was 100 metikaish (about 4 dollar). To make this long adventure shorter, we got to the Machanga sign, which took us from the main and only road going from the Mozambiquan boarder to out of country, onto a dirt road. To be honest, I wondered sometimes if we were going to make it, especially when oncoming trucks zoomed by and we dodged onto the side almost tumbling over. I can even say Winnipeg roads were better.

Finally we got to this church and watched the kids come tumbling out of every direction to see us, 2 whites (me and Steve). Joao and Mr. M know Ndau the local language and spoke to them. I felt helpless at times when they spoke Ndau, and then Joao translated to Steve in Portuguese and then Steve to me in English. I hope my languages come along.

We waited around for a while then were led into an ‘extravagant’ (for African-bushman standards) house. It was cement, unlike the thatched roved huts around. We were served a meal of shima, rice, and 2 kinds of fish and salad. It was amazing! After we headed out to the girls school center of Machanga, which is where I will make my home. It is all gated off and woman from the inside saw us and opened the gates for us. I told myself ‘this is home’ and was lead to cement building with a sticky, scraping on the ground door. ‘This is home’ I said as I entered the quiet large cement room with one bed in it for me, and 2 gigantic tarantulas on the edge of the ceiling and wall. I shall name them later. The other girls share at least 7 or 8 others in it, and they gave me my very own. I felt absolutely glutinous as they helped unload all my loot. Suitcases and a new mattress a dresser and a rack to hang hangers and one small table. It is all my furniture but much more then they all have put together.

After dumping my things and setting up my bed and mosquito net I was led into another room of the same building where the girls came and lined up. Tia (aunt) Casilda, and Tia Amelia, and the rest of us sat up at the front and they sang to us. I tried so hard not to cry, it was so beautiful! Then I had to present a speech in Portuguese! What! Well, I told them I was from Canada, and want to learn many things from them and I have many things I want to teach them. It was very broken but I did it and we all laughed and they clapped hysterically but appreciatively. These are my irmahs > my sisters.

Steve, Mr. M and Joao left back to Beira. It is just the Ndau and I. I was informed that even some of the girls can’t even speak Portuguese! I must learn!

Tia Casilda is a very beautiful woman, but very stern in the face and acts very strict. While we were alone in my room she began to help me set up. She examined everything with curiosity and with familiar things she told me the name in Portuguese and then in Ndau, their language. I was very cautious to open everything and show them right away, because I know this is a culture of everything is everyone’s, and so far… I don't want anyone to know I have this computer… they have already taken a HUGE liking to my digital camera. They have NEVER seen it before and cant believe it.

The Ndau have 3 showers a day here in Machanga. Before I knew it, it was dark and Tia Casilda let me to the bathing area. Some shacks with buckets of freshly warmed water for me. So I washed myself under the millions of stars! I couldn't how many there were! Then when I got out of the bath, hot rice and sweet coconut and fish was served. Ohhh it was so delish! After I sat outside with the Tia’s and the night guard George and learnt some Ndau and Portuguese.

Minha primeira noite en Machaga: I got under my mosquito net and tucked it in. could barley sleep the whole night because I have so many ideas of what to teach the girls and what I need to learn before I can even call myself a teacher. I think the side effects of the malaria pills wanted to kick in because I started to have some freaky dreams while I wasn't even asleep yet.

A Full day in Machanga: August 20 / 09

To wake up, before breakfast, lunch and dinner and to go to bed there is a chime that is rung. The chime is some deep, metal contraption that rings a deep, almost haunting sound. It rang at 4:45 am. Still very dark out, I left my room and all the girls were sweeping the dirt ground. I asked to help, and they always think it is strange that the teacher wants to help, but they showed me. Casilda has taken me in like her apprentice, or a daughter. I’m not sure. She leads me around and where she goes, ‘Vamos’ (lets go), I go. We sit and watch the girls carry buckets of water to and fro and watch the sunrise in an instant. She showed me to sweet my floor and wash it. I will do this each morning. As I unpacked some more of my things, I came upon my new East-Indian bell dancing-belt from Reyna. I put it on Casilda and told her to shake her hips and I showed her and she laughed so hard. She called in Anna-Marry whom I already love. She can’t do the same work as the girls because she has one leg, I assume because of the old grenades’ left in Mozambique from the civil war. She put it on and laughed. Long story short> more girls came until my room was crowed and laughter all around.

Anna Marry and I went to buy bread and they have served me each meal at a table and chair they set up in my room. Everyone eats together but in their rooms. I don't mind the alone time because during the rest of the day I have been surrounded.

I went to the village shops and market with Casilda to buy a capolanah (chitangy/ sari) and a lenso (head scarf) and they dressed me up. I am now an mulher de Africa (African woman). The Tia’s show me around and when I ask where I can refill my water, it is done for me, my food, my bathing water,,, everything so far is set up for me. I will want to get to do it myself, but it is learning in progress. I sat in one of the huts with a Portuguese schoolbook and everyone gathered around to teach me verbs and tenses. It was so useful… and I taught them English, which they keep asking and craving for. Casilda especially. I am always surprised at the random things she knows like : blouse.

Miriamo, Julia and Maria took me to a field near Machanga’s secondary school to play futbol. We played with other girls from Machanga, and got to even take off our capolanahs b/c we were out of the girls center, and wear shorts. All the guys watched us play from the side. It was so fun!

The day ended like it started. Many people in my room, laughing with and at me. I taught them some ‘Canadian dance’ and they taught me some samba, and some songs in Ndau. Time to stop attracting mosquitoes with this laptop light.

Boa noite.

Alexis

Aug 22 / 09 / Sat.

HAIR > the past time of African woman. Wherever there is a spare moment, which there are many, there is a group of woman braiding one another’s hair in some interesting fashion. When it is a muzungus (white person) hair that is being braided, the group is multiplied. I had at least 4 girls at a time making tiny weaves in my hair, and at least 15 watching at once in awe. Whenever a string of my hair detached from my scalp and floated in the air they grabbed it to examine it. On lookers awaited their chance to snag another free strand. They were all very pleased when I danced around and twirled my new transas (braids). Ahh, the days are sweet so far. I never fail to entertain the girls whenever I open my mouth. I sat outside last night for dinner with Anna Marry. Then many girls joined. I am still figuring out when they are speaking Portuguese and when they speak Ndau, because they switch so frequently. I know that they are talking about me when they said ‘mazungu’, which means ‘white’ in Ndau. So I asked in Portuguese how to say black: ‘msench’. So I said “when someone calls out and points ‘hey Masungu’ I said ‘hey Msench!’” and they laughed so hard and repeated this to every girl who came after from hearing the laughter.

Today was Saturday, and so we woke up at 5:30 am instead of 4:45 am. The girls take very good care of me to ensure I know what’s going on. Anna Marry came to my door and took me to another house in the center where all the girls and the Tias were gathered. It was some kind of meeting. They had a chair set up for me with the Tias, over looking the girls sitting on the floor. The meeting began and the topic was ME. My Portuguese has come such a long way and I could pretty much understand all of it except when she began to speak Ndau. But I could tell her intentions by the strict tone in her voice. So far they have been calling me ‘sister’, but Casilda put an end to it. I am NOW Tia Alexis > Aunt Alexis. Then I was told I must learn all 44 of their names. They each stood up one at a time and gave me their names. Yicks! There are four Mary’s! All in all, Casilda means business; no one messes around with her.

Casilda realizes how much I love Africa, and she loves that I have a camera too, so today we went on a journey to Mambone (Mam – bone- eh). We walked and walked and walked and talked as well. We have this relationship that we joke like sisters and learn like friends, but she takes care of me like a mother. She is as eager to learn English, as I am an African life. To get to Mambone, we had to cross a river in a canoe. I love adventures. Mambone is such a hub of commotion. So many things to buy and for a better price then Machanga. She showed me all the good places and told me to take pictures, then I would show the owners and they were so exited that I had to take more pictures of their friends to show them, and so on…. I’m surprised my battery is still alive in that thing! I bought some fresh fruit juice and later because of the heat I bought me and Casilda a fresco and a coke in glass bottles (which are ½ the price of cans b/c they are recycled locally and cans are not at all). We bought coconuts for the center and the woman like me so much she gave me my very own 3 coconuts, shaking them to make sure there is fresh milk inside. Casilda lifted this HUGE bag of coconuts on her head and walked along as if it weren’t even there.

Even after we got back to the center, I thought it would be time to rest, but Casilda had more things to show me and more things for me to take pictures of and show people themselves in my digital camera. I striped rice of their casings with a big mortal, ate fresh snails raw, sat in a freshly made African hut etc. As the sunset, I was told it was time to sing. I followed, and found all the girls in a line ready and with one cue from a girl they broke out into rehearsed song and dance. I followed the steps and got the dancing down and they barley could sing they were laughing so hard that a white person danced to their songs. They want me to teach them Canadian songs next Saturday… anyone have some good ideas.

They take such good care of me. I constantly have girls coming to me during the day telling me that its time to bath. They boil the water when it's a chilly night and always put a bucket ready for me. I should enjoy this pampering while its here, because I know soon I will be very much apart of this community and help like this wont is needed.

Casilda's favorite line of mine is “Eu nao sou mulher do Canada. Eu seu mulher da Machanga! Vei, eu tenho a capolanah, lenco, e tranza” (I am not a Canadaian woman, im a Machanga woman. See, I have a capolanah, headscarf and braids)

Aug 24 / 09 – if you have arachnophobia, perhaps I wont invite you for tea

The night before last, I thought I was back in Winnipeg for Folk Fest. Drumming and shouting was heard clear in the distance all night…. ALL NIGHT! (I actually stopped caring after 9 am when there were other sounds to distract me). I later asked and found out it was traditional shaman music. Perhaps the music played all night because the shaman was trying to raise something from the dead and it took all that effort. Along with the magic, a young lamb caught its string in a tree and sounded like it was choking its self, as packs of local wild dogs bit each other and fought and squealed. (these sounds seem to be frequent during the night). I do have earplugs (that barely cut any sound out), but I could not sleep because I had some mice running around my room and in all my things, rustling bags etc. at first I thought it was the tarantulas that I saw earlier, but no, I looked on the walls and saw they were just hanging out with 4 other gigantic friends. I took some pictures, which reveals their ugliness more then I would like. So I spent the whole night with my rolled up yoga matt in hand banging on everything and chasing this stupid (but really sneaky) mouse around my room.

Finally the sun rose and the day began. We walked to a church, which was people gathering under trees. The woman sitting on a tarp and everyone else on logs. To keep it short > the whole service was in Ndau and the whole thing was dedicated to my being there! I was presented to everyone in song and dance and with these elderly but full of energy woman, jumped and danced in front of the congregation under a giant cashew tree. I don't deserve such attention.

I’ve been trying to find a routine and help out around the place. I still have girls telling me its time for me to shower, its time to wash my cloths etc. So today I helped water the garden in the morning and pump the water. I took the initiative to wash my cloths and hang them on the fence like the girls. Unfortunately it was very windy today and some cloths got blown off the fence into the bushes and some dirt… at least I tried.

When I bring out some art supplies, everyone seems to crowd around. I drew a face and labeled everything in English, then in Portuguese, then in Ndau and taped it on one of the dorm walls. We ended up making a whole body.

I wonder if and when my novelty is going to wear off. Today they forgot to feed me breakfast, so I went to the market and bought some oranges, bananas and bread. on the way back from the market, a cart pulled by bulls took me back to the girl’s center.

Today I asked about capoeira. They know what it is, but say that only men do it. So we played around and then I showed them some things and they were exited. So I am exited! I really want it to go somewhere. These girls are open to anything I teach them or tell them. I took out pictures the I took along, and they examined each one thoroughly. I finally got to explain I am not soooo MUZUNGU (white) as they think, they called me msench (black) in the pictures I have with my beautiful Blondie Reyna. I have so much to show them and teach them, but all in moderation. I can’t even charge my computer battery here! I don't think it will last the next 2 weeks!

Aug 26 / 09

I am still wondering when the novelty of palm trees is going to wear off. I’m taking the opportunity to enjoy the free, natural scenery with the backdrop of a rising or setting sun and palm trees constant. Much better then the ones that grow in planters in the Polo Park shopping mall.

It has been a full week since I have been here. In ways it feels like I have been here longer then that, because I already feel at home, and in ways I look ahead and long to be able to communicate and explore freely.

I started out my solo journeys today.
“Solzinha!?” (alone!?) The girls asked. Everyone gets a kick that the white person speaks some Ndau when they greet me Matakatira, and I answer : Takatira, Kuvat Kwen’u”. Greetings are very important, and it is not like Canada where you can awnser with the same greeting > there is always a special response to each greeting and certain times of day to say them, and everyone says them so I get lots of practice!
I went to ask the 2ndary school of Machanga if I could somehow get some teaching to help with my Portuguese. It resulted in me sitting under a tree eating tangerines with the Portuguese schoolteacher for 3 hours conjugating verbs, which is exactly what I needed. Most of the teachers are very young, and have probably less then grade 12 schooling for subjects like physics or chemistry. The Portuguese teacher is not even 22 yet! Nonetheless I learnt a lot.

This morning Casilda took me to Dondo, a small community some kilometers off. We rode in the back of a truck with other locals and their bags of goodies they intended to sell at other communities. As me and Casilda sit across from each other, she makes sure my lenco (head scarf) is tied on tight, since we are sitting in the back of a fast moving truck, no seatbelts. Then she goes on to tell everyone the funny things I tell her like : When my mom calls and says “Good morning, how are you” I will respond in Portuguese saying “sorry Mama, I don't understand you, I can only speak Ndau and Portuguese”. I say what I can in my broken language.

Since I am starting to fit in quite well, they have stopped feeding me breakfast. I usually get a loaf of bread delivered to my table, while the other girls only eat 2 meals a day. I, in Canada, am a continuous eater, so I miss my food and NEED it in the morning. I love going to the market with Maria. We must be such a sight: a white Mzungu with the one legged Msench. I bought a kilo of peanuts for less then $1.50. I grabbed a handful only to realize I have to soak, dry and roast them myself. So I did that today, and am afraid I have been protein deprived and just overloaded on peanuts this evening, and for breakfast ate a load of chocolate I brought. If anyone wants to send a care package, I think I would really enjoy some chocolate, or sweets of some kind! J I still have a couple weeks until I get some Internet, and only a small bit of battery left, but I will try and savor it.

Im not sure if it moves slowly here because the hotness, the mentality, or perhaps they are protein deprived, but there is a lot of slow moving action which is contrary to what im used to. It doesn't really bother me though, it is just the way it is. They even have a verb “Passear” > to pass time which they use frequently because there is a lot of time to pass.

Aug 30 / 09

Im not sure what awes me more: a 13 year old zipping down the curvy, bumpy, dust path in flip-flops, or a 75 year old man doing the same thing bare foot. One thing is for sure, people are hearty, and this includes the babies. The way mothers whirl a child onto their back by the arm and tie them up with a capolana, plunder into a chapa crowded with others, or sit on the back of the tailgate of a moving truck with the baby still slung on the back hanging over. Children seem to be walking and carrying unusually heavy things, in arms and on heads, at unusually young ages. Perhaps they know that the north, things are not so intense, so they seem to aid me in anything I do. I am a strong person, I can pump my own bath water, and carry it to the bathing area, Im a big girl! Well, I guess I should indulge the pampering for now, because sooner then later I will wish it could be so again.

Today we went to church in Dondo, a community with a Christian church. It is 9 kilometers away, and yes, we walked. I am a runner, and have run 9 kilometers easy, it is different when it is a different heat, as well as everyone walks very slowly. I had to catch myself several times and stop and wait because I walked too fast. They like to take their time… I too will learn this.

The church service once again was in Ndau, and I had to make a speech, this time I did so in English and there was a man who could translate a bit. I have never seen such an old woman jump so high and pound the ground so hard with her feet in dance until now> I danced with the elder woman of the church, in front of the whole congregation. Cheers and ‘leleleleleleeesss’ carried us on.

I only got lunch around 3:30pm. I was STARVING! This morning Casilda gave me a special traditional drink. It is some fermented cornmeal drink. It has a sprite-like bubbles, but is thick like a shake. It is more pleasant when adding sugar. Perhaps its like an energy shake. She gave me a whole picture of the stuff and says it will last a while. Im not sure if ill be able to down the whole thing. They really monitor what I like and not as much. I do like beans, so I got it for lunch and supper. I was given French fries for breakfast yesterday, which I ate with my freshly roasted peanuts.

Today we had our first CAPOEIRA lesson! I was so exited. I feel like I can teach them anything and they are SO exited and into it! We ginga’ed and I showed them kicks, dodges, handstands, back-walk-overs etc. which they all loved to try. We were covered in dust. That is one thing about Machanga… it is very dusty.

I saw my first MAMBA! COBRA… it was huge… by the bomba (water pump)

Friday, me and Casilda went to Mambone across the crocodile river Sauvé, and spent the day visiting friends’ huts and spent some hours making lunch with her Tia (aunt) who has no legs. She had a young boy, Pedro, helping her out. She sent him to get us some bottled cokes, which he was ordered to open them. This meant by using his teeth. It hurt me watching.

I have had an encounter with some men who are very serious about me taking them to Canada. The problem is they speak English quite well and so I can't play innocent by ‘not understanding the language’. The whole encounter was strange. I was with my friend Moses who is teaching Portuguese and some men overheard about the Mazungu and came to his house to talk to me. Very flattering people, but I can tell they have bad intentions and just want to use me to get out of here. Unfortunately they got a hold of my number from Moses, and so when one of them called I gave the phone to Casilda, whom I explained the situation, and she pretended like it was her phone and she did not know me. This kind of experience is only the beginning.

Sept. 2 / 09 > soccer and sunsets

I don't know how to explain the feeling of playing soccer bare-foot with 30 + Ndau girls while the sun creates the most beautiful backdrop! I really can’t get over it. Like I have said, I have never felt so white in my life. I go to Zavava, one of the few school campuses to ‘passaiar’ (pass time/ chill out) and play soccer in the evenings. I went the other day and asked one person if they knew anyone who plays Capoeira. I met a guy who knows some things about capoeira, and we sat and talked. What began as me and him talking resulted in about 45- 55 other boys surrounding, listening to our conversation, some even bold enough to ask the white-girl a question or add something in. other wise it was like I was a show. I have never had so much attention. I left the mob, laughing, to go play soccer. The mob followed. Every time the ball came to me or I touched it sounds alarmed, in jokes, in curiosity, I am not really sure. But I now go to the market ‘solzinhia’ and the locals know who I am and what I can reply back in Ndau.

I sometimes think the community is just joking with the kind of priority they give me. They make old women sit on the floor so I can sit in a chair. I try to resist but they always win. I have even named a set of newborn twins. No joke. I went to the local hospital with one of the girls to see her aunty who just had some twins. The next day I got a call and was asked to name them. I wrote a list of generic North American names, and they liked Jane and Stephanie the best. Perhaps they will name a sports complex after me??? If they get one.

Yesterday me and Tia Casilda took a trip out to Dondo. I really go just for the ride. I like sitting in the back of the cab, although they occasionally make me sit in the front because I am ‘special’. Unfortunately the chapa returned to Machanga early and we ended up walking the 9 kilometers back. Of course I didn't have any water with me and was in flip-flops, but I made it without complaints. What can you do. Worse can happen and I should prepare myself.

SUCCESS! I killed RATO! (rato = mouse)

Sept. 5 / 09 other Muzungus!?

So I have been told that other Muzungus (whites) living in Machanga, and a couple days ago we had our first encounter. At first glace, it was actually more strange and uncomfortable then I would imagine seeing another white person. Richard and Lee are 2 Americans who are working with the Peace Corps as school teachers. It was difficult at first to speak English and we talked in Portuguese for the first little bit. It was really great to meet some people who have lived here for a year to give some advice, and heads-ups (eg. They are on the same malaria meds as I am> I should be expecting paranoia and vivid dreams any time soon). They make trips around Mozambique and I am hoping to tag along one time to see more of this country. They live in luxury compared to me too > they have a stove and even bake cookies and pancakes… we are going to be great friends I can tell. Lee even went to another district and picked me up some peanut butter. This is great because the ducks and goats keep eating my peanuts I put out to dry in the sun.

I have been living off of rice every day… only had shima twice and they realized I eat more rice then shima, so they only feed me rice. They are trying to fatten me up though… I recently had my first ‘salad’ > they usually don't have any veggies RAW because of bugs and sicknesses. But I am ‘special’ so they made me a salad… all I can say is> would you like some lettuce with that oil?

I have pulled out my sketchbook and have sketched some things such as a baby on a mothers back. I did a sketch of Tia Casilda as she sat beside me and it is the newest excitement. I have a feeling they will want me to sketch them all eventually.

This morning I woke up and the girls were already to work when I left my room, stomping in clay and sand and straw and water. It was apparently time to re-plaster the sides of the dorms because the walls were dry and cracking apart. I, from helping build a red-clay kiln with my hands, am somewhat familiar with the mud in-between my toes and got right in there with them.

I am making ‘friends’ with many people. Have been asked to be a girlfriend of more people then I can count (from ages 13 – 60, married or not) and to be the wife of 3 people. They ask these questions before they even know my name. I have made friends with store owners, and today as I went in to buy some crackers for a snack the lady who owns this shop called me into the back and put some fresh bolos (deep-fried dough covered in sugar – like a donut) into a bag for me. Anything sweet is a treat.

Sept. 9 / 09 Drama follows the one who lets it happen

September 7^th is Mozambique’s day of victory. From what I understand it is the day of independence from Portugal. So it was a day off and the local schools put on entertainment. It was the most technology I have ever seen present in Machanga: 2 very fuzzy microphones a speaker blasted at an uncomfortable level that made voice coming out of it another language all together, and some kind of CD player to play music. It was neat to see so many people crowded in the same place to watch traditional dance, theater, inspirational talks etc. under a cluster of trees> somba > shade. Shade is talked of often. It is getting hot and whenever one stops for a break, you stop in the somba.

Although the drama may have left the Goertz household, it is now present in the American Board Girls Center (center de mininas). I am not intentionally doing so, it just happens. While me and the girls were watching Machanga vs. Mambone men’s soccer game on the day of victory, of course I am spotted and am prime target to practice English. One gentleman came to ask questions, then I am told by the girls that he is not a good guy and a word I very well recognize “pelegozo” > dangerous. So I refused his offer to go for a drink, fanta, beer or whatever. Then the next day he ended up coming to the center twice, in the morning and the evening. I was totally unaware and both Tia’s had to tell him to get and all the girls were gathered behind. I wondered what all the commotion was and went over and realized it was my fault. We laughed about it all, but I hope I don't create too many problems.

I was starting to feel like I just wanted to be apart of these crazy Ndau conversations. No one would understand me if I started speaking English. I feel so miss understood… just when I felt so a kitten wandered into my room! For real. It made my night. I didn't care how dirty the thing was, I named it Meetzy and fed it my fish I had for supper and gave it a shirt to cuddle it. It now follows me wherever I go and everyone laughs at me because it is strange to care for animals like people and to have it in your house. It ended up peeing in my room, so I understand. I will let her in only when I have rats. She made me so happy just at the right time.

The American Board Church has a huge woman’s conference that started on the 8^th. I was anxious to go, and ready to leave that morning. Terns out Tia wasn't ready, so we waited till the evening. Then found out chapas were not running. Lets just save my words and say this: I am not a big fan of the waiting game. So I was ready to leave early this morning, but Tia was not ready to leave, and by the time we left chapas were still not running. Luckily when we got there we caught a ride. The conference was in Ndau and Sena, another language equally uncomprehendable for myself. We ended up sitting for over four and a half hours with breaks of dancing. Perhaps I now see why Tia wasn't so anxious to go. I did have to make another speech upfront and danced in front of everyone with my favorite elders again.

We luckily caught a chapa back for cheep and didn't have to walk the way back. I got the honor of the front middle. The steering wheel was way out of line and to steel the wheels straight the wheel is turned 90 degrees, the door is held closed by a strong arm and once popped off its hinges! I gasped, and was laughed at by the woman who studied me, my every move and inch, up and down. This is just the way it goes.

People here are also not shy to touch and observe with hands. Many people seem to have the need to touch my hair, or if I have a speck of dust, a bug, even my birth mark they must touch it or pick at it. These are just people I sit / stand among in crowds, chapas or on the street.

Off to Beira tomorrow on a long chapa drive. The drivers promised me the front again. Hurray, apparently the best seat in the house,,, but I am sure it's the most uncomfortable: the stick shift beside the knee, no back rest, knees in the front dashboard and between the driver and the money-collector/ luggage-loader boy.