Whelp, I am in Mozambique living in Namaacha which is a town
of about 45,000 people just outside of the capital, Maputo near the borders
with South Africa and Swaziland. I’ve been living with my host family for
about 2 weeks now and have been doing Peace Corps training for about 3 weeks. Every
day thus far has brought a new set of adventures and I already have plenty of
stories to share! Instead of trying to cover everything that has happened the
past few weeks, I am going to start with the first 36 hours living with my host
family. After that, feel free to keep reading if you’d like but it’ll just be
logistical updates on what my life looks like and such.
FiFi and me in our living/family/dinning room!
We arrived in Mozambique on Thursday, September 1st
after about 30 some odd hours of busing, waiting, flying, waiting, flying, and
busing. On Saturday we were dropped off in Namaacha at a secondary school with
our bags and told to find our host families on the gym court. The national
language of Mozambique is Portuguese and for most people that is there second
language here, where their first is a language local to the geographical
region. At this point, I barely spoke any Portuguese - I could say my name and
ask where the bathroom is, but that was about it. So, on Saturday I was dropped
off with my bags and a Peace Corps manual. As am sure you might imagine, I felt
dropped into an abyss with limited preparation. Following a plethora of hand
gestures and broken Portuguese, I followed minha mae into a van. Stripped on
the inside, the van had one row of seats that was not bolted down. Another
volunteer and a grandma were sitting on buckets so I crawled to the back and
grabbed my seat.
After following my mom for a little bit, we arrived at my
new home. There’s a 20 ft by 40 ft courtyard that three rooms open up into. One
room is mine, one the kitchen, and the last is the living/family/dinning room.
At the back of the living/family/dinning room is another door that leads to the
bedroom for my parents. Immediately after setting my stuff down, my mae told me
to come and sit in this chair (remember that this was mostly expressed in hand
gestures and occasional Portuguese words). I immediately met two of my
sibilings – Sarafina (she goes by sophi or fifi) who is 8 years old and Diago who
is a 3-4 year old energetic boy. Fifi grabbed me a package of crackers and a juice
box, served it on a plate, and placed it in front of me on another chair. Diago
attempted to grab a cracker but immediately minha mae reprimanded him and said
something along the lines “The crackers are for mano daniel not you”. Mano is a
term used out of respect for an elder sibling.
By this point, if you know me I’m sure you know how awkward
and undeserving I felt at this point. Before even knowing me, my family decided
to show special love and treatment toward me. My room looks like it’s been
built in the past year. The interior of the room is decorated especially for
me. My parents definitely heard that Americans enjoy gynamisticos (aka working
out) as there is a stair stepper exercise machine in my room – it was one of the
first things minha mae pointed out to me (with an excited face I might add).
So, whenever mae’s not watching I slip Diago a cracker and a
sip of my juice. After the crackers I just sit with minha mae and we “chat”.
She asks me questions about my family and tells me about hers/my new family. I
share a picture of my family that I keep in my wallet. She calls us “muito
bonito gordo” – something like very beautiful fat family. I should clarify that
while gordo means fat, it is a huge compliment in the culture here because it
implies that your family has enough to eat. Being called Magro (skinny) means
you don’t eat enough and is generally an insult. Here’s where it gets good: I may
or may not have told mae I’m married to the volunteer Allison across the
street. And here’s where it gets better: several things have occurred since
then that reaffirm my accidental and unofficial marriage. In our conversation I
said I was Catholic. The following morning (Sunday) Allison and her mae came to
my house to take me to church with them instead of me going to church with my
mae. Saturday night I insisted on helping my mae cook – the kids thought it was
hilarious that I knew how to cook (partially because of conceptions about
Americans and partially because of gender norms). Without me noticing, my mae
had been taking pictures of me and sending them to Allison all night…
Now, I say I may or may not have told my mae I’m married
because the conversation went something like this: my mae asked a question in
Portuguese that I did not understand but she was gesturing toward Allison’s
house. Earlier in the day, she had practiced pronouncing Allison’s name because
Alice was usually the closest she could get. So of course I’m thinking she’s
talking about Allison so I respond to her question by saying “Sim, Sim!!
Allison!”. About 2 seconds later I realize that her question had the word “esposa”
in it, which means wife… One other complication occurred earlier this week. My
grandma was in town visiting my mae (grandma lives in Maputo). Allison, two
other volunteers, and I were meeting outside our house to go somewhere and
Allison arrives first so I introduce her to grandma as “minha amiga Allison”.
Grandma gets super excited and proceeds to invite her to our big family party
in Maputo next month…
But not to worry, my Portuguese has significantly improved
since the first accidental unofficial marriage! Now after sharing that story, I’d
like to share some highlights that all occurred within the first two days (yes
all of this really happened within the first 36 hours):
-Was dropped off with my host
family with a nonfunctional cell phone, peace corps manual, and my stuff (Fortunately
I decided to open the manual and it just so happened there was a schedule at
the back!)
- Accidentally said I’m married
to a fellow volunteer
-Accidentally said all of my
grandparents passed away because I really struggled explaining which of my
grandparents are still living. Not to worry, I’ve since clarified.
-My family has roosters. They
start at 3 AM.
-Found a dead cockroach Sunday
morning in my suitcase.
-At mass, the priest paused all
of mass when he realized there were 3 Americans in the crowd. He sent an altar
server to ask us if we spoke Portuguese. Since we didn’t, he paused mass to
re-explain the sermon but in English. After mass, he informed us next week we’d
be expected to share about ourselves, in Portuguese of course.
-Prepared dinner and then walked
with my older brother and a friend/neighbor carrying 17 empty 5-galloon jugs.
We started filling the jugs and the entire time I’m thinking “How in the world
are we going to carry these back!?! Each Jug will weigh about 50 lbs and it’s
me and two 8th graders. Even at best I doubt I could carry more than
200 lbs of water the distance we needed to walk”. Low on behold, mae, Fifi,
Diago, and the baby arrive to help us! Still not sure how this is going to
work. Well, we finish filling the jugs and proceed to wait around for 2 hours
until a truck arrives. Ahhhh now this makes sense L O L. As we’re
about to leave, Fifi grabs Rakelly (the baby – about 1 year old) and flips Rakelly
over her head and onto her back. Fifi grabs a capulana and ties Rakelly onto
her back. I just witnessed an 8-year-old flip a baby over her head so she can
carry her baby sister home… Oh and I forgot to mention that usually my mae
carries Rakelly on her back almost all day and will cook dinner, clean dishes,
do laundry, carry water jugs and all with a baby on her back.
-And to tie it all off, after dinner as I’m going to bed I
find a second dead cockroach in my room right in front of the bed.
And that was my first 36 hours with my host family!!!! Thanks
for reading my second blog post, I appreciate all of the love, support, and
prayers I’ve received from family and friends back home. This is my first time
out of the US and I feel incredibly supported. Oh and quick shout out to Dr.
Stevens for preparing me for an assignment with 0 directions, 0 guidelines, and
0 ability to ask questions. Who knew?
Daniel
One month ago I was leading an Urban Plunge. Tammy, a person
who experienced homelessness for 10 years commented on one thing that could
have helped her while she struggled on the streets: “I wanted someone to
acknowledge me for who I was, not what I was”
FiFi and me in our living/family/dinning room!
P.S. If you’re still reading, wow. Here’s a quick update on
my lifestyle/living style.
-I have 4 siblings: 8th grade brother, 3rd
grade sister, 3/4 year old brother, and a 1 year old baby sister. My family has
two parents and my dad works in Maputo every now and then so he is gone for a
few days at a time.
-I wake up at 5:30, run, take a bucket bath, and eat
breakfast. I have Peace Corps training or language classes from 7:30 to noon at
which time I return home for lunch. In the afternoon are classes again until 4:30.
I spend 4:30 to 6:00 hanging out with other volunteers. The sun sets and rises
around 6am/6pm so I like to be home by 6 pm to spend time with my family. I
help wash dishes for dinner, prepare dinner, and take my second bucket shower.
It is expected for me, as an elder male in the family, to take a shower before
breakfast and dinner so twice a day. We usually have dinner between 7:30 and
8:30 and I’m in my room by 8:45. I usually take 15-30 minutes to reflect or
send messages to peeps back home (maybe fit in a snap or two) before I crash on
my bed.
-I have a working cellphone and use what’s app/fb messenger
for contacting peeps. My family has a TV (and aka electricity) and watches TV
at night/during lunch.
Well that’s my life!! Thanks for reading this unintendedly
long post! 