Together We Can

6^th of December, 2018

I’m currently flying back to Boston after a trip in Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. I’ve been visiting and shadowing Andrew Hermann, an old high school buddy from Seattle Prep, for the past 10 days. Oddly enough, out of our 10 days on the islands we never actually made it out to the beach – we were too busy spending time with rural farmers in the mountains, meeting with cooperatives in farming districts, and touring processing facilities!

Our typical day started around 7am with a plantain based breakfast, fresh juice, and cup of coffee and ended splitting a large beer on the roof of a 5-story  building contemplating what we’re doing and how many people do not know what the “rest of the world” is like.

Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic were nothing like what I was expecting. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting – maybe something a bit more isolated since my only abroad experience to this point was in Mozambique, Tanzania, and Zimbabwe. Both countries have a lot more roads and general infrastructure than I was accustomed to. But again, that’s in comparison to Mozambique, the 7^th poorest nation on the planet.

For starters, Puerto Rico is US territory so it should be comparable to one of the 50 states, or at least more or less. We drove up into the mountains to meet with a 3^rd generation coffee farmer hoping to secure some heirloom coffee varieties. Shortly outside of San Juan there are various MANSIONS – like we’re talking masssssive compounds with ocean views. However, we also pass a lot of houses affected by the hurricane that are still in shambles: missing walls or roofs. I can only imagine how many people have been displaced. We’re making our way to the highway Vito, the coffee farmer, said his farm was off of. Our directions aren’t quite correct and Vito tells us to just go back to town and ask someone there to give us directions. Of course, the first person we ask knows where Vito lives and gives us some initial directions. Along the way, we have to stop and ask random houses to help us navigate the mountain roads and determine where to turn. Arriving to the coffee farm, it’s very much what Andrew calls “Island time” (not too different than “Africa time”). We chat for awhile, enjoy a marvellous view, and then Vito takes us on his jeep through his coffee fields explaining his history and story. Of the heirloom varieties we are hoping to find, the bushes do not have any ripe berries and Vito did not save any from the last harvest. Heading out, he sends one of his workers to pick some fresh advocados as a gift for us.

Back in San Juan, we have a meeting at a government office looking for old designs for a school compound built in the 1970s. Driving through town, there are a lot of stop lights not working. They went out in the hurricane and are still not operational yet. It becomes clear that Puerto Rico is still recovering from the last hurricane and has a lot of infrastructure work left that needs to be done. We were able to secure the CAD drawings and head to a meeting with an engineering firm in town. Upon arrival, we are immediately provided with fresh coffee! It’s amazing how many times I had fresh coffee while in Puerto Rico and the DR. The islands definitely began to win my heart over with all of the fresh coffee. In general, Puerto Rico is a calmer lifestyle, has affordable beer and food, and its people are welcoming, kind, and willing to engage with you.

The Dominican Republic. Empanadas, plantain dishes, TONS of fruit. Driving in the DR is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s kind of like whatever you can force you can to do, is allowed. Making a left turn from the right most lane? Go for it! The capital of Santo Domingo has some of the worst traffic I’ve ever seen. Andrew has been working in the DR for 8 years now and is able to explain and dissect the history. There has been a disaspora from the rural areas into the cities. Total population of the country is 10 million with 5 million living in cities. Santo Domingo has been built on the fly resulting in poorly designed roads leading to horrific traffic.

In the DR, we visit some Moringa farms, packaging facilities, and make our way to Andrew’s host family out in a rural coffee community in the mountains. Seeing Andrew interact with his host family brings me back to my host family in Namaacha, Mozambique. There are sooooo many good people and quality families in the world. All of them constantly opening their hearts and homes to others.  

Without a host family, integrating into the DR or Mozambique would have been incredibly challenging for Andrew and myself. It’s only together, as a community, that we can achieve the world we need to build. Andrew and I are using agriculture as a tool to serve the environment, economies, and communities in our respective spheres of influence in the world. Many of us may not realize the beauties, magics, and challenges farmers throughout the world (including the US) are experiencing.

Short human history note: Agriculture and food is the basis of our society. Until wheat and barley were discovered the vast majority of peoples were nomads (the only non-nomadic and non-agriculture communities were fishing communities, one located in modern day china and the other somewhere on the west coast, I forget if it was in Canada or the US). With the introduction of wheat and barley, production spiked. We then created silos to store the food and thus began small communities of 100-150 people.

How we eat, what we eat, how our food is grown, and where are food comes from are the core fundamentals of our lifestyles around the world. The beautiful aspect is we have developed technology so not everyone needs to be a farmer! However, if we forget what sustains us and what gives us life, we may forget the value of what it actually means to be alive.

I know this was a little bit longer of a post, so thank you for reading to the end! I have a challenge for you – pick any kind of vegetable you enjoy and grow it indoors (if you already do this, that’s great!). Just one potted plant, maybe a potted tomato plant. Watch your own food grow. Learn about the disease challenges farmers face. Engage just a little bit more with your roots, with that which sustains you.

May we continue to work together to build a better world for all peoples.

With all of my heart,

Daniel Bladow

 

The Strength to Endure

November 9^th, 2018

The Strength to Endure

Maurice and I celebrating his citizenship interview

The past couple months I picked up some part time work while in Boston as a health care aid. And today I want to highlight the incredible strength of two people – Banu, the woman I helped care for and secondly Maurice, my Ugandan colleague. Oftentimes we don’t know the strength that lies within until we are in a situation that requires the awakening of a deeper part of ourselves. A part of ourselves that we may not know even exists.

Banu is a 51-year-old woman who used to manage various property businesses across the US and Turkey and was the President of Alumni at MIT. Three years ago, she suffered a knee injury and had surgery. Shortly after the surgery, she was complaining of a pain at the back of her head. Thinking it was merely a headache, they waited nearly 24 hours before scanning her brain, but it was too late. A blood clot had formed at the base of her brain and she further endured a brain aneurysm. She entered a coma and was sustained on life support. Hope was gone – a mother of two would surely pass. Her family prepared for her passing and settled on taking her off of life support. Banu’s father would not let his angel go without a fight – he convinced the family to keep her on life support and eventually she came out of her coma. At this point, she had no ability to move anything other than her eyelids and was completely sustained by machines to keep her body functioning.

After 1 year in the hospital, she was discharged and her father setup hospice care in their apartment. During her second year (first year being home), her health was riddled with UTIs and frequent ambulance rides to the hospital. Now in her third year since the original injury, she no longer frequents the emergency room. She has regained the ability to move individual fingers and can nearly walk 20 meters with a walker and next to no support. She is regaining the ability to speak at about a rate of 1 word every couple seconds.

I have had the pleasure of seeing her progress these past 2 months. I’ve changed her diapers, discussed politics and economics, and taken her on drives along the New England coastline to see the leaves change colors. For nearly 3 years she has been trapped in her head. She is highly intelligent, loves a cognitive challenge, and was physically active. She is fully cognitively aware but struggles to communicate. Every day is a fight for her. A fight to get out of bed, get washed, dressed, do physical therapy, practice eating, and somehow still maintain a positive spirit.

Not only does she focus on what she needs, but she is extremely aware of the needs of everyone else 

around her. She asked me about my dreams and what I’m doing to follow them. She has had many talks with Maurice (another health care aid working for her) and fully supports his initiative to better educate himself and find better opportunities. Last week she took Maurice to New York to see a Broadway show and celebrate his passing of his citizenship interview.

Now for Maurice. He comes from a political family in Uganda. He fled Uganda to a nearby country until he obtained official status to come to the states. Upon obtaining his green card, he came to the US about 3 years ago. A culture he had only seen on the TV. A people where everything is perfect right? Where all of the people are wealthy? Where there are no problems? A country where hunger does not exist?

He had no family here. No friends. No one to explain the culture. He took to the streets of New York and created a family among the streets for himself. Slowly, he learned what it meant to interact like an American. He learned American phrases, gestures, and body language. He connected with Ugandans in the East Coast and eventually a fellow Ugandan was able to help him find legitimate work in Boston. Now he works for Banu. He dreams of the day where he can hold an American passport – which should now be fairly soon! He passed his initial citizenship interview and is in the processing for US Citizenship.

In Uganda, he studied law and worked as a lawyer for several years. Now he is hopeful he can one day attend an American university to receive a degree in economics or politics.

Both Banu and Maurice demonstrate a strength that we all have within ourselves. Sometimes we don’t know it’s there until we are thrown into the pits and have to summon a courage allowing us to act not because of our fear but despite our fears. I’d like to end with an excerpt from Rudyard Kipling’s ‘Brother Square Toes’- Rewards and Fairies’:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

  And never breathe a word of your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

  To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

  Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

May we have the strength to be kinder and more patient with ourselves. May we have the strength to accept our own humanity.

With all of my heart,

Daniel

The Return of Daniel Bladow

October 5th, 2018

A group of Mozambique Returned Peace Corps Volunteers 

I did the craziest thing last weekend! I was walking down the street like any normal day. Well, except there’s only concrete everywhere and I cannot for the life of me find some normal sand or dirt to walk on. It’s just row after row after row of concreted/asphalted ground – disconnected from the life and planet that lives beneath us. Anyway, walking down the street I pass a 7-Eleven. Pausing for a moment, I have a genius idea – I walk in and BUY A DONUT. MIND BLOWN. Like seriously BLOWN. I bought a donut. No rhyme or reason or anything. I just bought a donut. And it was delicious and filled with sugar and disgusting and sweat and everything I could have ever dreamed it would be. Arriving at home, I stepped up my game – I called a local pizza store and ORDERED A PIZZZZZZAA!!!!!! And it gets better – there was customer service, a patient gentleman taking my call helping me decide what kind of pizza I wanted. Then, the pizza CAME TO ME in a timely manner and it was still hot when it arrived. Man. Boy oh boy. Unlike anything I’ve had in a long time. The simple comforts of being able to buy a donut off the street or order a pizza and not have to leave the apartment.

Being back is weird. It’s harder for me to be back than it was for me to leave. Sometimes I struggle to explain the difference – life is fundamentally different in Mozambique. My colleagues and neighbours in Mozambique fight to survive yet are often happy and sometimes sad/tired. They go for walks and enjoy spending time with others. I integrated myself into their culture and adapted it, in-part, as my own. I would lose track of time and go for long walks. I would get lost in a book for hours or days on end.

Here’s the big difference as bet I can define it: the standard of living in the US is higher: access to clean water, food, sanitation, formal jobs, etcetera. The lifestyle in the US is more stressful: what are you doing with your life? How much money do you make? Where is your career going? Why aren’t you doing anything productive right now? Are you good enough of a person? Once all of those aspects are taken care of, only then can you take a break from the work grind and relax/play.

In Mozambique, your concerns are more basic because you focus on food, water, housing, education. Once those aspects of your day are covered, you spend time with friends and family chatting, relaxing, and playing. Spending time with the people around you is highly valued – even if you don’t know them!!

It used to be socially acceptable for me to start a conversation with anyone – on the bus, sidewalk, or in a store. Now, I’m supposed to sit close on the subway and put in headphones and try hard not to make eye-contact with anyone. Be quiet. Be still. Don’t disturb anyone around you. I’ve never been good at following the rules; I start random conversations with strangers and get to know them. I have less social anxiety about conversing with the cute girl taking her dog for a walk in the park or the Haitian gentleman driving my subway.

All-in-all, I am adjusting but some things I hope I never adjust to. I hope I never get used to walking on concrete or striking up conversations with strangers. If you’ve read my blogs, you know how the concept of heated, pressurized, and potable water at any spigot/facet is INSANE. It’s also amazing and makes my life much easier. The ironic part of being back is I spend less time fetching water, cleaning dishes, and washing clothes yet I some how have less free time in my day-to-day life. Seems legit?

Every day I am still processing the last 2 years of my life. I’ve had some close encounters. Like an open-back vehicle without functioning brakes and the engine died on the way up a hill. I had to bail because it started to roll backwards, and the driver decided to take it into a ditch risking a roll-over instead of coasting down the hill. Or the time a 4-foot-deep river formed and washed out the road between my town and Montepuez making it much more challenging to get my monthly salary…

I’ve had some heart-breaking experiences. Like when my house was broken into and the thieves stole things from my room and I did not wake up. It took me a few months after that to sleep normally through the night. Or the time a fellow teacher manipulated his students and tried to force them to pay him a bribe. Or the moment I realized that the Millennium Development Goals (and other United Nations programs/initiatives) in many cases are reinforcing humanitarian crimes. Basically the “statistic-driven evaluation” forces countries to fake development further reinforcing a broken system. Bribery and rape in the high schools gets reinforced because of the pressure to have x% of students pass an elevated curriculum so that on paper it looks like within y years Mozambique’s education system will be equivalent to the international standard.

I’ve had heart-warming experiences. Like my neighbours who brought me food and money after my house was broken into, or the neighbourhood kids who led more of an investigation into the thieves than the actual police (I’m currently laughing at how ridiculous this is: a group of 4-to-14-year-olds led a better investigation than the police chief). Or the time a student came over to practice math – I did not have time to help him so I gave him some toys and colouring supplies. He wrote me a letter saying, “Daniel you know I did not come to play. Today I came to learn.” You can bet I was never too busy for a student again. Or my 9^th graders who became tutors and helped teach my 8^th graders how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. In Montepuez I received a warm-welcoming by the American families who work on bible translations and pastoral development. Richard and Caroline repeatedly welcomed me into their house. They fed me, had my clothes washed in a washing machine, and lifted my spirits. In Namuno, Eusebia constantly offered her advice, knowledge, and protection. She welcomed me into her family. The director invited me over for meals and loved discussing math. The French teacher practiced coding skills with me and wants to start a chicken farm! Lino and Samuel helped with all household chores, so they could earn simple things like a cheap phone.

I am deeply honoured and humbled to have had the opportunity to serve in the Peace Corps and in Mozambique.

I’m currently living in Boston until Mid-November when I have some client visits, Thanksgiving, more client visits, and then back to Mozambique by early December. I have a long list of things I aim to do, many of which I’ve already crossed off: hiking, order a pizza, go to the top 30 coffee shops in Boston, salsa dancing, see a movie in a theatre, drink all the beers, and many other random-ish things. It’s a much-needed reprieve. I’m catching my breath and preparing for the oncoming challenges – the uphill battle of starting my own company and having financial responsibilities to my employees and their families. I have some part-time work, so I don’t dip into my savings while in Boston. Most other moments are me buying donuts from 7-Elevens or making connections and expanding my network for our agriculture company in Mozambique (check-out our website: NKAgSolutions.com).

For many, Peace Corps is the highest highs and lowest lows. Not only that, but it has been a humbling experience full of growth, sadness, and strength. Everything I wanted out of my Peace Corps experience I’ve been given (challenge, growth, adapting a 2^nd culture/language). Now it’s my turn to give back.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

P.S. I will continue to write my blog posts! I have plenty of content I still want to write but already recognize my posts are generally on the longer side anyway.

Farmer Bladow

July 18^th, 2018

Farmer Bladow! I grew up behind a 15 acre farm. When I was 4-years-old, my mom asked me to go outside and grab a vegetable we could cook for dinner. So I did – and came back with 6 freshly picked ears of corn!! Well, here we are nearly 20 years later and now I am a farmer!

Let’s get started with an update on what’s happened. Peace Corps made the decision to close down the province of Cabo Delgado. There were sets of extremist attacks in northern Cabo Delgado. Combined with other complications, Peace Corps withdrew all volunteers from Cabo Delgado. I was in the States for my older sister’s wedding when this decision was made. I was provided with two options – be relocated for my remaining 5 months in a border province or complete my service now, a little bit early. If I chose to be relocated, Peace Corps had offered me an amazing site in Niassa serving alongside one of my PCV friends, Tatsumi. If I chose to finish immediately, I would be allowed to return to Mozambique, have 12 hours at site to clean-up and say goodbyes, and then complete my Peace Corps service.

The two weeks following the Peace Corps evacuation of Cabo were some of the most taxing weeks of the past two years. I struggled sleeping and struggled with bits of anxiety. I like to think I understand my emotions well and remain clear headed amidst stressful situations. The first incident knocking me off my high horse was the break-in last January. For several months following the break-in I woke up several times during the night with an elevated pulse. The two weeks following the evacuation were similar in kind – increased stress and anxiety.

I made the decision to complete my Peace Corps service – so I am officially a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV)!! As a Peace Corps Volunteer one is not allowed to engage in self-profitable business. I have personally seen, experienced, and interacted with the different ways a lack of jobs in Namuno reinforces wage and labor abuse, prostitution, and malnutrition. I chose to finish my service with Peace Corps to start a farm in Namuno. When I first made this decision it felt crazy – I finished Peace Corps to return to a province they evacuated and start a company. I no longer have the support of the US Government. I suppose one has to be a special kind of crazy to make a decision like I did!

Now that I am in the heat of implementing my dream, it is invigorating and exciting!! Me and my team of 8 workers are preparing 9 hectares (nearly 23 acres) of land to plant roughly 14,500 Moringa trees. The Moringa tree is generally harvested for its leaves or seeds. It is a highly nutritious tree – the leaves are high in protein and provide all the amino acids needed by humans! We are planting to harvest the seeds to produce Moringa oil. The oil can be used to cook but due to a high price per litre is primarily used in cosmetic products – think hair and skin products. The plan is to train smallholder farmers so we can more quickly increase our access to quality seeds and increase our impact in the local region. We hope to train 25 smallholder farmers in December and then we will supply them with certified PKM-1 and PKM-2 seeds for planting on their own lands. We will then buy the seeds off them at harvest each year.

Logistically, I spend 6 nights a week in Montepuez working for and living with Richard and Caroline. Richard was a director of operations for Plexus, the cotton company in Cabo, but left 18 months ago to begin a 5-acre intensive drip-irrigation vegetable farm to combat surging vegetable prices in the local market. While in Montepuez, I build out the company and develop connections. The company license will most likely be completed in the next month! The 7^th day I am in Namuno checking in on our team and helping to prepare the 9 hectares for planting.

Each day comes new challenges and things to learn! I can be painting a room, installing water pipping, picking cabbages, disassembling a chainsaw, attending a meeting about Richard’s grant from gas giant Anadarko, meeting with some of Richard’s clients, or just cutting down a tree. Just last week, Richard and I were delivering several hundred kilograms of fresh produce to the Ruby Mine operating in Montepuez!

By the end of August, I’ll be back in the states for 3 months to allow enough time for my work-visa to clear. I plan on returning to Mozambique in December to further build out our operations and training program. I’ll be in Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic the end of November and beginning of December visiting a partner and a client for the Moringa oil. Long-term I’m hoping to split my time between the States and Mozambique. As you may now know, I do not backdown easily from a fight and I have no issue having to box clever as they say. I will always stand with the marginalized and refuse to do nothing. I acknowledge that I may fail, but also recognize that there are 8 families who now depend on the success of our project. In the following year, there well could be hundreds of families depending on the success of our project. As such, there is but one option – success.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

P.S. I will continue my blog posts! Every month is full of adventures, random stories, and life lessons to write about.  

A Simple Life

June 24^th, 2018

The Fam Bam at da Older Sis's Wedding Reception

Stepping off the plane in the Dubai airport it hit me and hit me hard. What is everyone doing? They’re all staring down at their screens!! How strange. I pass by a stranger and make eye contact, slow down, and greet them. They respond with an awkward head nod and keep walking. Daniel, come now, remember you’re no longer in Mozambique! You don’t talk to strangers here. And yes, I know we are aware of how our society is addicted to technology and the liking – so let me paint a picture.

No AC? No problem, that’s life. One sits outside under the shade of the Mango tree. And guess what your neighbours are doing? Sitting under the shade of their tree as well. So you chat. A man on a bike is passing by in the late afternoon clearly exhausted after his trip to the city. What does he do? Well, he walks up to your house and asks for a cup of water. You’ve never met him before and yet it’s not an awkward situation. It feels completely normal. You ask him about his health, his work, and his family. You share a polite conversation and he asks you about your kids so you have to explain that you actually don’t have any kids or a wife! He’s quite surprised and doesn’t quite understand. The conversation wraps up and he thanks you for the glass of water.

Strangers talk to strangers and it’s not awkward!! Until you get off the plane in Dubai or step onto US soil – then it becomes very awkward and strange quickly. I’m going to say something many of us already know and recognize. Life in the states moves fast. Constantly from one thing to the next. In Mozambique the only thing that matters is the current moment that one is living in. And yes I acknowledge that has some drawbacks when it comes to planning and preparing for the future. However, there is also a marvellous bliss in presence, in being able to acknowledge the strangers around you, in being able to go up to a random house and ask for a glass of water amidst having a warming conversation.

Not being socially allowed to strike up conversation with strangers is just one aspect that made my transition back to the states feel so strange. There’s also the Mozambicain handshake! It’s similar to the “bro-shake” but slightly different. And oh boy did I throw a lot of people off with it, whoops!! We’d be doing a normal “bro-shake” and then I’d go for the Mozambicain thumb flick and you could see it in their face “What is Daniel doing!?! Uhhhh this is weird” or the classic continue to hold hands for the next few minutes as you converse – I guess that’s also not normal in the states…

The first thing I recognized stepping onto US soil was the amount of concrete – everywhere. Concrete, concrete, concrete. Where’s the soil? Where’s the dirt I’m so used to walking on? Where’s all of the life? Yes there are some trees around and road dividers with grass and plants. But Americans even walk on concrete sidewalks! Strange. Who would want to walk on concrete when you could walk on soil/dirt/sand?

Walking into a grocery store, I took a double take and had to slow down. Too much. There’s just too much stuff here. Where does it all come from? Who’s making all of the boxes and plastic everything is packaged in? Why are the peppers and tomatoes so abnormally big? How does a mango cost 1 USD!?! I can buy 12 for that price back in Moz!! And why are there gallons upon gallons upon gallons of milk all being stored in fridges….? And who needs 50 different choices of BBQ sauces? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen! 50?? Like why?

Living in excess influences people. Living in extreme poverty also influences people.  One lifestyle removes you from the earth and from day to day life. The other has you only living in the day, forever unprepared for tomorrow. I won’t claim to know where the balance or solution lies – I’m still learning.

I’m incredibly grateful I was able to return to the states to support my sister and her new husband in their marriage! It was my first time back in 21-22 months. Living in extreme poverty has affected me – probably both for better and for worse. It’ll take me sometime to sort it all out. I can say I’ve learned how to appreciate the little things like pleasant conversation, not having to worry about water, and constantly having energy. I’ve also learned how to take things in stride. Serving in the Peace Corps, I have grown in my ability to adapt, grow, love, and be resilient to the curveballs of life. I’m finding that it takes a lot to be thrown off my game.

To be fair – the last two weeks have been incredibly emotionally challenging but that’ll be for a future blog post!

I’ve grown in my ability to just spend time with people without needing to be doing anything. I’ve grown in my ability to compliment people for what they do well and to state the things I appreciate about them. I’m better abled to stand up for myself and speak out when something frustrates me. Overall, I’d like to think I’m a simpler person or at least I have much simpler needs. Just the pleasure of a hot shower makes my heart sing! Or having learned how to bypass the awkwardness and strike up random conversation with nearly anyone (hint, hint even in the states in can be done! What I’ve learned is that in your approach and first 5 seconds you need to make the stranger feel comfortable). Being able to cook at any moment is truly amazing – no need to light charcoal.

All in all, since the majority of my readers are Americans: may we be more intentional with how we walk through life day to day. Planning and forward thinking is important – but it is not worth sacrificing life to achieve it, and remember life can only be lived and experienced in the present moment. But don't just remember that, do something about it! Invite a random neighbor over for dinner. I dare you.

One last pro-tip (but I am no pro so take it as you would a grain of salt): it is much easier to be happy when living a simple life. 

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

The Adventure Never Ends

June 11^th, 2018

Favors. Friendships and favors. That’s what we’ll be talking about today! Sometimes in life you find yourself in a unique position to help someone else, and you help them. So many months later when they are in a position to help you, they do! I’ll go out on a limb and say the vast majority of kind acts are done without expecting a favor in return, however we often do hope and assume that if we are kind, it’ll pay off right?

Let’s shift to Mozambique. For most Peace Corps Volunteers meat is a specialty and specifically I mean chicken. In my site you can buy chicken, goat, and pig. Generally we PCVs prefer to spend money on travel and experiences than meat with most meals, so we forgo it. We buy chicken when we feel like treating ourselves. I will clarify that if your site does not sell frozen chicken that also deters many of us – there’s the killing and the time that goes into the prep work; plus there’s not a lot of meat on local chickens. With that said, I probably have butchered around 10 chickens thus far in my Peace Corps tenure! Okay, back to the point, we PCVs generally forgo meat. Second point – when we travel, housing options are expensive so when possible we crash with friends or other foreigners in the area willing to put us up.

A few months back I was passing through Montepuez and crashed with Richard and Caroline (Zimbabwean and South African immigrants living and working in Montepuez). They constantly support us PCVs in any way they can. Not only did they put me up for the night, they also decided to cook a marvelous steak dinner with sweet corn! It blew my taste buds out of the water. It must’ve been over 9 months since the last time I had tasted such sweet bliss. They expected nothing in return – no money and no favors.

About a month ago, Richard mentioned they were trying to get some more young female goats to prevent in-breeding amongst their small herd (currently about 16 goats total). What did I do? Well I jumped on the opportunity to help them find some goats!! Goats are no longer raised or easy to find in downtown areas anymore. A few years back the prices of goats soared so thieves started stealing goats in the cities so now you can really only find them out in the bush and more remote locations.

They also do not raise goats in Namuno, but I was determined to help. I had been given an opportunity to return the countless favors Richard and Caroline have bestowed upon me and many PCVs for the past decade. I call up Eusebia, a nurse in Namuno who takes personally responsibility for the health and safety of all PCVs in Namuno. She often works in the aldeias (the suburbs/remote areas) and she jumped on the opportunity to help me get some goats! I’ve helped her with electrical issues in her house and various other things. Heck, I taught her how to make pumpkin bread just a few weeks ago!

So a favor for a favor for a favor – all amongst friends and I’m left walking a goat across my town on my back! It’s humbling to be helped and receive a favor. Sometimes we have to swallow our pride and be like “Hey Richard and Caroline. I could use some help with… (transporting a fridge, installing security grates, building a water tank, selling Peanut Butter, you name it)”. Every now and then we are given an opportunity to give back to those people and it feels like a duty and an honor to repay the massive “favor debt”. And so often we find ourselves helping strangers and repaying our “favor debt” by paying it forward.

I’m currently stateside with my grandma. We had to transport 12 8ft 4x4s from Lowes to her house for a yard project. It’s about 1 mile. In Mozambique I’d just walk them back 3 at a time! However, that’s apparently not normal here in the States? So of course, the middle age gentleman named Rob with a truck helped me out. He’s a plumber. He served in Vietnam for 2 years. He loved the idea of helping a young kid like myself (yes I am still a young kid! We’ll see how long I can hold onto that title) transport some wood for his grandma. It’s amazing how we are all in this together. Sometimes we need to ask for the favors. Sometimes we can see when someone needs help and we can offer the favor.

Here’s my bit of cultural exchange for the day – in Mozambique if you give someone cash it means you are extremely close friends. One of my closest colleagues one day tried to give me 50 mets. I was incredibly confused and had absolutely no idea why he wanted to give me money. Did he need me to buy something?? And this was a few months back, so the issue was not communication or language. I understood the words coming out of his mouth. In the states cash is not given out to signify friendship. Maybe we buy our friends coffee or a meal or offer to help them do some yardwork on a Saturday.

Regardless of the culture some aspects hold true – friends help friends. However sometimes we are unable to repay our friends or those who have supported and given us so much. In those instances all we can do is an occasional favor when called upon and pay the rest forward. A favor for a favor for a favor leads us helping a young kid transport wood to his grandma’s house. It has us buying a meal for someone who cannot afford it. It has us taking an extra 30 seconds to truly greet the cashier and ask them how they are doing, but not just listening for the classic “good how are you?” but rather listening intently and purposeful to engage in a meaningful human interaction. Heck, we’ve got plenty of tech around us and I think we could all benefit from a little more good ole human interaction!

It’s been a wild ride the past week and a half. My life is a-changing once again but I’ll save that story for another post! I also plan on writing a post specifically on what it’s been like being back stateside after living in an area of extreme poverty for nearly 21 months. Here’s the foreshadow – we are crazy. Like you can turn on a tap and water comes out! Not only that, it comes out fast! But hey it gets better, you can actually control the velocity with which it comes out! Wowowow I’m not done yet – you can make it hot! Or cold! Or something in between like WARM! Absurd. Absolutely ridiculous. Oh, and get this, you can even DRINK IT. What. Like How!? It’s magic (well not really). But seriously it is truly amazing and pretty dang ridiculous. Just think about it… Could you design a water system that would provide yourself unlimited water at any temperature at any time of the year?

Any who, thank you all for the support and reading yet another adventure! I’ll see y’all soon. In the meantime, may we be brave enough to ask for help when needed and bold enough to give it when we see the opportunity. A favor for a favor for a favor may lead you walking a goat across the neighborhood on your back! You truly never know.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

Broken Up, Deep Inside

All in all, I live a good life. In pemba for a science fair meeting and I crashed with a friend on the beach. Waking up at 5 AM daily has its perks. 

Having almost decided to write two different posts this month, I am splitting this post into 2 parts.

Part I: Broken Up Deep Inside

The past several months small things have been vanishing from my Veranda. A pencil here, a pen here, a small ball, a few colored pencils, a sponge, half a bottle of dish soap – you get the idea. Basic things – things that make life and schoolwork a little bit easier for a young student. Leading up to April, I’ve known small things have been vanishing for roughly the last 4 months now. There were 4 different students plus my 12^th grader I live with who had access to my veranda. I wanted to avoid he said and she said situations so I passionately waited and observed. In January I had a strong hunch in was the 9^th grader from turma C.

It’s late February and the sun has set. Normally this is when I pack up outside, lock the house, and head to my room for some light reading before lights out (I’m asleep at the latest by 9 PM these days). As I’m putting things away outside, my 7^th grader is sitting down on the concrete exercise pad looking exhausted or confused. Something is amiss. Of late, his family has been out of town and he’s been living with his uncle who is a 12^th grader. He oftentimes shows up to my house hungry and hoping for some leftovers. I ask if he’s hungry – he looks down and says “no”. Are you thirsty? Need some water? Again, “no”. Now he’s looking timid, almost nervous and I can’t figure it out. Alright so if you’re not hungry or thirsty, what’s up? He quietly responds that he’s nervous to which I reply, “that’s fine, you can be nervous but what’s going on?” He tells me the other boy, the 9^th grader from turma C, has been stealing things from me. I asked what he took today – “The soccer ball that went missing – it’s been at his house and he played with it today”.

Well that’s one piece of evidence. I waited a bit longer to have a second piece of evidence – the sponge. Having two pieces of irrefutable evidence, I wait to have a one on one discussion with the 9^th grader. It’s roughly 6 PM and we’re the only people at my house. I tell him I know he’s been stealing from me. I pull out a notepad and pen and tell him to recount everything he’s taken – to which he says “I stole your soccer ball in November”. I write down soccer ball and then look back up again – 
“mhhm, what else?”

“That’s all I’ve taken”

“Are you sure??” At this point, I’m mildly stunned. I’ve pulled out my notepad and pen. I’ve made it clear I know he’s taken “THINGS” emphasizing the plural. My paralysis and disbelief quickly turn to frustration. I ask him 5 more times that he’s sure the soccer ball was the only thing he took. He is.

“Okay fine. If the soccer ball is really all you’ve taken we’re going to go talk to your Uncle now. One last time before we go to your house “TENS CERTEZA QUE SO LEVASTE UMA DAS MINHAS BOLAs??” I ask one last time in a state of frustrated confusion.

We walk to his Uncle’s house. I explain everything that’s happened to him and then give the proof about the sponge. Roasted. However, I’d feel better about myself if I weren’t outthinking a 9^th grader. Not much pride when you’re a relatively well educated individual outthinking a 9^th grader. His Uncle is quite frustrated and threatens to send the kid to live with his uncle in Nakala (600km away, and realistically Nakala would probably be seen as a step up from Namuno so probably not the best threat).

The following morning I inform all of the young boys who spend time at my house of the situation and the new policy – 1) you can only be in my backyard if I’ve met your parents 2) at no point can you enter the veranda. Also that morning, I go back to speak to his uncle and evidence arises proving the 9^th grader had taken two more items – a small can of leftover paint and a lightbulb. For now, I decide he’s no longer allowed at my house. I need time to think about what I want to do. I feel torn up inside. Here’s some background knowledge – this 9^th grader grew up in an even smaller town 30km south of me, which is even further in the middle of nowhere. He’s never met his father. He sees his mother about 2-3 times per year since 6^th grade when he was sent to live with his uncle here in Namuno to go to school. He went to pemba once for science fair last year. He spent the holidays with family in Montepuez. His uniform is constantly in a state of disrepair and his shoes are usually not much better. For my first year of service he would do yard work for me. And in turn I would cover his school supplies and other various school related costs. I paid for his school matriculation fee for 9^th grade for him.

Given all of that – 1) kids had a rough life. He’s taking small things like a sponge that make it easier for him to do housework at his own house. His Uncle doesn’t give him quality attention and he lacks role models and mentors in his life. 2) Everything I’ve done for him and he’s willing to betray my trust? Over what, a sponge? You’ve got to be friken kidden me!!? No logic whatsoever. There’s plenty of other young people here who I can support, tutor, mentor, and cover their school fees.

I spoke to some of the American families in Montepuez over Easter. I knew they have a 0 tolerance policy with their workers. No matter how small, any stolen item means you lose your job. But this kid is, well, a kid! Not a worker. I ask for some advice 1) people are notorious for taking advantage of opportunities. There’s a saying that if you want to fire a worker, let them handle the petty cash. Eventually they think no one is watching and take a small amount. That’s more than enough to fire them. The simpler solution to preventing thievery is to remove the temptation. If they cannot enter your veranda then they cannot take things out of it. 2) Sometimes with young kids (and adults) we don’t appreciate what we have until it is gone. So, give him a break from your house. One of the American mothers recounts a story about a young local who played with their kids. The young mozambicain started swearing one day and the mother said one more time and you can’t come back for two months. Kids love a challenge don’t they? What’d the kid do? Yup, that’s right. The kid swore again. So the kid was banned from entering the yard for 2 months. Since then, the kid has acted poorly and sworn exactly zero times. We appreciate what we have when we have lost it or when we imagine ourselves losing it.

I was skyping with one of my old high school homies and recounting the story and trying to think/talk through my solution. I was explaining the 0 tolerance policy the American families have with their workers and how someone had mentioned that there are plenty of people here who need support, love, and their school supplies covered so might as well support someone who will not steal. To which she said “Ya, but Daniel that’s not you”. It stopped me in my tracks. It was like, damn straight that’s not me! Harsh punishment has its time and place. Mercy, redemption, and more chances have their time and place. Ending a relationship forever over some stolen items regardless of the logical reasons is not me.

The 9^th grader is banned from my house until second trimester (so about 2 months in total). After which he can come over to my house on Sundays only after he attends mass.

With my 12^th grader roommate I discussed my full plans. If everything goes well during the second trimester I’ll bump up Sundays to include Fridays and Saturdays. Third trimester I’ll let him come over during the week again. Harsh but just. I’m happy with it. I run into the 9^th grader every now and then and he lights up every time he sees me. Seeing that gives me a self-fulfilling emotion that I made the right choice.

Part II: Education

The system here on paper should work effectively. In many countries it does work effectively. On paper, it appears to be a top-tier world education. However I still have 8^th grade students who cannot read or write. How is this possible?

First, let me briefly layout an aspect of the system – grades. The traditional European grading system is used here in Mozambique. This means grades are out of 20 points and a passing grade is a 10. 

Here’s the general impression of grades:

6 – You’re failing miserably and probably not showing up to class (like a 50% in the states)

8 – You’re failing but barely (like a 60% in the states)

10 – Passing! Phew. Still not proud, but feeling okay about yourself (a C in the States)

12 – Excitement, but not bragging rights

14-17 – You’ve earned major bragging rights. This would be around an A in the States

18-19 – Generally this is where one assumes the professor would rank. Scoring this high means you understand the content as well as the teacher.

20 – You’re the next Genius who is going to revolutionize your field

Overall the government seems to be attempting to reform the system to improve education and to help cross this disparity gap between what it looks like on paper and what it is in reality. However, I do not believe the government alone will ever achieve a lasting solution. They are fighting a losing battle – let’s talk about passion.

Oftentimes you hear young children and students aspiring to one day be teachers or have government jobs. Sounds awesome right? If only more americans dedicated themselves to service roles right? Not quite. Government jobs are the best chance someone has of securing a monthly salary and crawling out of poverty, of having a better life than their parents – at least that’s the common view and from where I stand, it feels correct (I’m sure a research study could prove or disprove this conjecture).

Therein lies the problem – education is a service based role performed best with passionate teachers funded and supported by the community or a formal government system (someone or something to make sure the teachers have what they need to do their jobs to the best of their abilities). Until obtaining a government job is not longer the easiest or lowest hanging fruit, education will remain in shambles.

Coupled with the rapid growth in medical care, medical treatment, and population growth, there will quickly be too many people for the education system to handle. My school has 64 teachers and roughly 1800 students. Last year we had 58 teachers and 1600 students. With all of this education, where are the students hoping to go afterwards? They’re hoping to go into nursuing (government paid job) and teaching (government paid job).

Theoretically governments get their income from taxing the local population – taxing land, income, and sales. So if everyone is trying to get a government job, what exactly will fund the government in the future…?

If we want other nations to become independent of international AID they need more jobs. Mozambique does not need another 1 Million USD in grant money to fight malaria. They need 1 Million USD to invest in their economy, workforce, and infrastructure. They need Americans willing to come here and do business. As a government volunteer coming from the US maybe what I’m writing is a bit heretical. After all, I’m currently being funded by US Govt money (thanks Uncle Sam!).  

I do not mean to imply that we should stop funding projects that fight malaria – we need to be doing that do. But fighting health topics and education inadequacies without addressing the economy seems ineffective in the long-term. And to further clarify, I know there are business support programs here and the business AID/grants do exist. However, it is no where near as prevalent as it needs to be.

Given my situation, I cannot bring hundreds or thousands of jobs and I do not have millions or even thousands of dollars to invest. However, I refuse to do nothing. I’ve led several mentoring programs throughout my years in college. I’m using my experience to pilot a new tutoring/mentoring program between my 9^th and 8^th graders. So far, we’ve only had one tutoring session so far and it worked exceedingly well. Most of my 9^th graders were in my 8^th grade class last year. So, they know how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide at a bare minimum. On Fridays I have a double period with my 8^th graders. So a small group of 9^th graders meet at my house Friday mornings at 7 AM. I go over the plan for the day and give tips about how to tutor and how to teach. I walk the 9^th graders through the exercise problems and where the 8^th graders are most likely to get stuck.

At 8 AM we all walk over to the school and the 9^th graders enter the classroom with me and my 9^th graders. As I said, we’ve only been able to do it once but it worked well. We’re at the end of the first trimester so I plan on continuing the program every Friday next Trimester. Here’s the sitch about me and my work – this program may or may not work. If it does not work, I will stop investing my time in it. I will come up with a new idea and pivot. I will continue to try new ideas until something works. I refuse to be bogged down in a system that neglects the learning of the students.  

To wrap things up, here’s a short conversation that happened while I was in chapa going to Pemba:

“I teach at the high school” – me

“Oh so you teach English?” – fellow passenger

“Nope” - me

“So you teach Portuguese?” – fellow passenger (this makes me feel real good about myself!! That’s right you thought I teach Portuguese!!!!!!!)

“Nope – I teach math” - me

“Math!?! Wow.” – the fellow passenger

“Oh and Physics” - me

“WOWWWWW!!>!?@” - the fellow passenger says in disbelief having previously assumed that as a foreigner I clearly must be here to teach English. If not English, then clearly Portuguese with my ability to speak it. Wait math and Physics?? I can only imagine him thinking to himself “who is this dude who speaks English and Portuguese well enough to teach it but actually teaches Math and Physics?”

My hope for all of us is we continue to be idea generators. May we always find another solution, another idea, another way to move our societies forward and bring them together.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow