Just Another Mos in MOZ: 2013

segunda-feira, 23 de dezembro de 2013

To Lichinga, Namaacha, and Maputo

After almost two-and-a-half years of living and working (i.e., volunteering) in Africa, I’m back in the states. I’ve actually been back in California for almost a month now. And still, I’m recovering from jetlag. I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, though, wondering where I am, where the crowing roosters have gone, or the humming of electric fans, or the loud hotel air-conditioner.

It’s interesting to re-experience a bit of (reverse) culture shock. It’s almost like the first time I came to the U.S. in November, 1990. The cold and the quiet, the speedy freeways and sterile suburbs. I’m being a critical grinch, I know. I have enjoyed and am still enjoying my visit. I finally met my 2-year old niece. Saw and hung out with a few friends. Spent a great deal of time with family. That’s mainly what I wanted to do. To re-connect. I was just commenting on how “home” doesn’t feel like home. I love my friends and family, but, unlike many “RPCVs,” that’s not enough to keep me here. If I’m going to be honest with myself.

Now, this blog is about Mozambique and Cape Verde, and other experiences of living and working outside of the states. It’s about an expat’s life. It’s also mainly a retrospective, a digital scrapbook of sorts. And since I’m still in the thick of things here, I’ll just write about last month’s events, going to Lichinga, Namaacha, and Maputo.

The night before I left I had my last dinner with fellow expats. It was a wonderful despedida with Kenny, Carla, their kids Eddie, Deacon, and Cameron, as well as other Cuambanos, Millie, Rich and Zacharia. Alexis from Metarica and Jamie B. from Mecanhelas also visited, making the evening delightfully different from our director’s despedida, waving to us as he drove past, leaving us in the wake of dust and exhaust fumes from his pick-up truck.

I left Cuamba (for good, as my sitemates would say) on November 13. Lucky Wednesday the 13^th, I thought, when our chapa broke down—the front axle twisted beyond repair—in the middle of nowhere. As we waited watching the driver try to “fix” the vehicle, I recalled horror stories in which volunteers actually had to sleep in a ditch by the road, stranded overnight. A few moments later, the chapa driver got a boleia from a car passing by, and he took off to Mandimba to fetch another chapa. I asked another passenger, a friendly Nigerian, if we all trust the guy to just fugir with our money, with all the chapa fare. And he said, Well, we have his chapa here, so he has to come back.

As it turned out, we only had to wait for about two hours. The driver returned, and we all packed into a smaller chapa. I lost my front seat, but was glad to be on our way. We reached Lichinga, smeared with dust and sweat, by 3pm.

In Lichinga I got to spend some time with Jade, Matt J., Victor, and Grisha, fellow Niassomes whom I scarcely see enough of. Jade was a terrific host, welcoming me to her house and introducing me to her Mozambican friends. Though I didn’t get to meet her special friend, I did finally meet Matope and Maningue, who made me seriously consider getting a cat next year in Chimoio. I would post the Lichinga photos here, but for some reason blogspot is not letting me insert any pics. I also lost a bunch of pics from my crappy camera, so I’m asking Lichingles to send me photos. Please.

It was also great meeting Pele, the Swedish forester. Hopefully he’ll still be in Lichinga the next time I’m up there. And Grisha, prepare yourself for a re-match. Even if it is your version of chess, a shot of whiskey per piece taken, I’ll be ready. Game on, my Russian rival.

Matt J. and I left Lichingles for Maputo on the 16^th of November. We met up with Bro-Eric from Zambezia, and then later (much later, due to LAM) with Helen from Tete. By the way, Helen, I’m drinking Erdinger as I write. Finally.

Believe it or not, I haven’t been drinking here as much as when I was in Moz. Or rather, I should say, as much as when I was in Cuamba. I’m sure there are a number of factors for this ebb and flow of alcoholism. The weather, for instance: winter here makes me drink less beer, tropical summer there makes me drink more. I would drink more red wine here, but alas, two-buck-chucks are no more. See, the volunteer stipend is another factor. And then there are my puritan parents and older friends with families. Though, Colin, I did get to try a bottle of that Argentinian Malbec wine, which is now my new favorite. My folks wouldn’t drink, so I did it all for them. Still, I’m drinking less, believe it or not.

While Eric W. and Matt J. stayed in the capital for Science Fair commitments, Helen and I left Maputo for Namaacha to participate in Moz21’s Pre-Service Training. The short and easy chapa ride was lovely. The cool climate, and Namaacha greenery were lovely. It was all so very different from the north. The then-trainee, now new PCVs of Moz21 were also very different, and also very lovely. And very young overall. Or they’re not young, I’m just an old geezer. It’s really just a matter of perspective.

I observed the new PCVs giving lessons during model school. They were all very nice and appreciated my comments. They know their real teacher-training will happen at their schools, in their classrooms. I also met the two PCVs replacing me and Zackaria at the IFP in Cuamba. Sam and Caitlin, I look forward to seeing your badasses in the north next year.

Namaacha made me realize that I finally left my site. It was a feeling of being out of place, and cut off from the Cuamba boys I had come to depend on. Despite the fun of meeting and hanging out with new PCVs, thank goodness for Eric W., Helen, and Matt J., whose peer support helped move me through a vulnerable time. Though Matt, you know you and I will be duking it out again in chess. No mercy, macdaddy.

We left Namaacha Saturday, November 23^rd, and back in Maputo we hit Café do Sol once again for milkshakes and sweet cakes. Actually, I think I had a burrito with my milkshake, which wasn’t the best combo, but still delicious. We had dinner at a great Thai restaurant, and it would’ve been a perfectly chill evening if I didn’t lose my phone. Mac was kind enough to accompany me back to the restaurant that night to see if we could still get the phone.

I guess I was off the grid for a couple of days, more than I usually am. All the stores were closed the following Sunday, and then after that I had to juggle COS affairs, medical, dental appointments, etc. with getting a new phone. I did get a new phone and my old number, as some of you know if you received my random Turkey Day text message.

That week in Maputo was busy with a lot of walking and going to appointments and checking out new restaurants. Let me just applaud former Moz CD Carl for hosting a dinner for us. Even though I wasn’t COSing, I still got invited. Another highlight was meeting Jonathan’s lovely sister, Kelsey. We had an awesome lunch at the seafood market, thanks to Yuri, man of Maputo.

Maputo is a great city, and I’m glad I got to know it better with some superb people. I’d like to check out the Jazz club and the Karaoke bar that Bro-Eric and Macdaddy Matt were raving about. I get back to Maputo on the 29^th. That’s 23 hours of fly time, and then about 12 hours of layovers through 5 airports—San Jose to LAX, then to Heathrow, then Joburg, then finally Maputo. Sheesh. It was one hell of a trip getting here, now let’s see if I can make it back.

But before all that, happy holidays, everyone, and feliz ano novo.

quinta-feira, 7 de novembro de 2013

Addendum to ´letter to my replacement´ post last month

I discovered during our ´concelho de notas´ that our English Department Coordinator, Rafael, will be moving to Lichinga next year, and so the IFP in Cuamba will only have at most three English Teachers, at least in the beginning of the schoolyear. It´s possible that the IFP will hire a new Mozambican English teacher during the first semester, but I think you may have more classes to teach in 2014.

Moreover, there´s also been some talk that all IFPs will switch to a two year program next year (we´re currently on a one-year program). This could mean that all turmas, not just the one English turma, will be required to take English classes. That´s as many as 9 turmas among three English teachers. The six subjects of English I mentioned in my original letter would probably be collapsed into two courses of Integrated English Language Learning. So there could be a total of 18 English classes next year.

You probably have plenty of questions. Again, I´d be happy to clarify any thing from this letter or respond to any questions you may have.

domingo, 20 de outubro de 2013

So, rather than blog about Cuamba, I´m just going to copy and paste the letter I´ve written for the person replacing me here at site. In case the new PCV doesn´t receive it on Week 7 of PST, then here it is, long before site-placement announcements.

As always, contact information and full names have been omitted from the original letter.

20 October 2013

Hello Moz21er(s)—

You’re almost done with PST, well on your way to starting your service and leading a more autonomous PCV life. Congrats! You will be replacing me and another Teacher Trainer here at the IFP in Cuamba. This letter will give you some information about living and working in the second biggest city in the province of Niassa. It probably won’t totally answer all of your questions, but I hope to answer many of them. Don’t hesitate to call or email if anything I say here needs more clarification.

You’ll be living in the school compound of the IFP, which is actually located on the outskirts of Cuamba, about 6 kilometers from the city proper. The good news is we have plenty of stores and three markets that supply produce and other goods. Bad news is that you have to go to town 2-3 times a week to buy groceries. But you learn to adapt, and after about 6 weeks, for me, biking to town just became part of my routine. The heat and the dust can be unbearable, so I minimize the number of trips to town. And yes, invest in a good bike. “Boleias” are rare for us Cuamba boys, and walking to the town center can take over an hour, whereas biking only about 35 minutes.

The advantage of being so far from the city is the safety in the IFP. We live in a walled compound, a sort of cement city built by the Japanese in 2009, surrounded by mud-hut villages, the bairros of Mendoça and Rimbane. My housemate and I leave our bikes unlocked outside our house, and we’ve never had any problems. People in the city, on the other hand, have seen many burglaries. During your service, you’ll probably hear of other PCVs’ houses being broken into while they are out on vacation or in conferences. We do not have this problem here at the IFP.

If you´re one male Moz21er coming to Cuamba, then you would probably move in with my current housemate, Richard (Moz19). He teaches computer classes at the secondary school of Cuamba. If two of you are coming, then a second house would be made available. Only two PCVs can live in a two-bedroom/one-bath house at the IFP. You will have regular running water and electricity. Occasional outages do occur, but the amenities are available most of the time. The cold showers and regular electricity make living in Cuamba relatively easy compared to other, more “mato” sites.

Another challenge that the distance of the city brings is integration. I admit, I’m not integrated in the city. My one favorite Mozambican is Dona Roquia—she has met many PCVs, runs a restaurant at her house near the train market, and you’ll probably visit her on your first night here. There is also Miriam from Malawi—she works at the big Movitel store and speaks fluent English. These are my only local acquaintances, as cultural integration is difficult when you’re in town for only a couple of hours twice a week.

I did, however, focus my integration at the IFP. I spent a lot of time with our 30 students, the “formandos,” training to become primary school teachers of English. I taught not just English Listening and Speaking courses, but also a TICs (Tecnología, Informática, e Comunicação, or Information Technology) class. With the same students, I did English Club, which was also my JUNTOS and English Theater group. We went on a hike up “church mountain” (which really is just a hill), listened to guest speakers of English, and watched movies in English. My students are not my close friends, but we’ve developed a professional relationship that became an important part of my cultural integration.

If I were to stay in Cuamba for another school term, I would participate in the students’ informal activities more. They play volleyball, basketball, and soccer, and sometimes have dances on Friday and Saturday evenings. This is what I would do differently, if I had another year at the IFP.

Like most PCVs, I experienced isolation at site. Cuamba is the end of the train line, and there are no paved roads linking it to other cities. Despite this, Cuamba is still somewhat of a hub: JUNTOS conference and English Theater take place here, so once or twice a year it receives waves of PCVs from all over Niassa, and even from Zambezia and Nampula. Moreover, your sitemates, Colin (Health Volunteer, Moz18) and Richard are wonderfully laid-back and remarkably well-integrated in the city. Colin lives and works in the city, and he’ll invite you to one of his splendid Sunday brunches. Richard, as I mentioned, teaches TIC’s at the only high school in town, but he also takes regular Makua language classes, and works with Colin. I’ll give you their contact info when I see you in PST, if not sooner. There is also a warm and welcoming family of American missionaries who invites us to their home for dinners. These people became my family in Cuamba and reduced my sense of isolation.

In terms of work, I found myself under-utilized. Hence, the secondary projects/extracurricular activities. (If you’re interested in EGRA, I recommend getting in touch with Rocio, an Argentinian missionary in town who is already doing work on literacy with kids.) The English department at the IFP has two Mozambican English Teacher Trainers (Rafael and Suzana), and if there are two new PCV Teacher Trainers, then you’d probably be teaching no more than two classes. The English classes are Reading, Writing, Listening, Speaking, Language Use (i.e., Grammar), and Methodology. There’s only one group or “turma” of about 30 students studying English, so you’ll get the same students in all the classes. In addition to your teaching load, you must also observe some of your students’ teaching at a local primary school, probably in Rimbane, which is the closest village with a school. The students are respectful, though their language skills are low. A few come from cities as far away as Metangula and Nampula, but most are from Cuamba.

The technology at your disposal here at the IFP is impressive. In addition to the computer lab, which has about 19 computers and access to the internet, we also have a “smartroom” containing a smartboard, 15 computers, an ink-jet printer, a document camera, and a flat screen television! Ironically, this “smartroom” doubles as a “biblioteca” (a library) that suffers from a dearth of books. The IFP director wishes to use this room for distance learning, but it is not yet connected to the internet. Nonetheless, it’s an excellent classroom that I use regularly to present podcasts, play songs, and show movies. I almost never use chalk since I use the smartboard and the document camera/projector.

All in all, though Cuamba isn’t the most difficult site, it is underdeveloped. Many are poor and poorly educated. The roles you play here, your work as a PCV is very much needed, even if not always appreciated. I look forward to meeting you all in PST, and again feel free to contact me if you have any concerns or just want to talk more about your site placement.

segunda-feira, 30 de setembro de 2013

Feliz Aniversario: One Year in Country

We arrived in Mozambique September 26^th, 2012. While I would agree with many that our first 3 months (of Pre-Service Training) in country pale in comparison to the 24 months of service at our own, individual sites, I nonetheless consider those first three months as formative of our views of Mozambique. My current site of Cuamba in the province of Niassa is very different from our training site of Namaacha, and it’s certainly poles, maybe even worlds apart from the capital of Maputo. But these differences add to our varied perspective of Moz. I’m still just learning about this enormous country. Hell, I’m still just learning about my site of Cuamba. Honestly, I’m still trying to work through my impressions and experiences here. Some of you have already heard me call it “Cuckoo Cuamba,” but that may only a knee-jerk reaction, I think. I’ll need to spend a bit more time to render a fairer, more accurate, representation of this city.

For now, let me re-cap this action-packed month of September 2013. It started out laid-back enough, during a fabulous (as always) Sunday brunch at Colin’s, when I got a call from RPCV Anwar Archer informing me that he’s already arrived in Cuamba. . . all the way from Namibia! Anwar is a fellow Cape Verde Transfer who got moved to Namibia as a Small-Enterprise Development volunteer. He COSed the end of August and travelled coast to coast from Namibia to Mozambique. It took him about 9 days of over-land travel, including stops at Victoria Falls and Lake Malawi, to get to my site. What an honor to be a part of the last leg of his trip to reach the Indian Ocean!

In Nampula on our way to meet JICA volunteer Takuyu, I almost got robbed on the busy Kankhomba street near the city’s major traffic circle. I got sandwiched between two guys, one of whom shook my arm, to get my hand out of my pocket, I guess. I quickly (and luckily) side-stepped out of the trap.

On my way to the airport, the taxi I was in rear-ended a motorbike. It got pushed and plopped onto the center divider of the road. Before the “mota” landed on its side, the driver and his passenger behind him were able to hop off the bike. They both seemed to be okay, though the biker kept on hopping, with a grimace on his face, holding his crotch. His passenger, on the other hand, hopped into my taxi, and for a moment I thought we would need to go to the hospital. They spoke in the local language of Macua, and I understood nothing of their minor squabble. But when we went straight to the airport I realized that the accidental passenger I think was just getting a free ride from the taxi driver.

Overall, though, I enjoyed the short stay in Nampula. I finally met up with the famous (perhaps too famous amongst PCVs) JICA volunteer Takuyu. We celebrated one of his colleague’s birthday and enjoyed some Japanese cuisine. I also got to see other PCVs at the Peace Corps office, gathering and preparing for their REDES (Raparigas Em Desenvolvimento e Saúde) conference. It’s so very rare, here in Cuamba, for us to see PCVs from other provinces, that seeing them in Nampula was special, to say the least.

As I mention in last month’s blog post, I would be travelling to Manica’s provincial capital of Chimoio for my own COS (Close of Service) conference. A direct route to that city from Cuamba would have been a little over 1,000 kilometers, but my round-about trip (or “creative route” according to PCV Helen in Tete), more than tripled the distance. The plane from Nampula took a 30 minute layover in Tete City Airport, before heading to Beira, the provincial and coastal capital of Sofala. There I stayed overnight at Hotel Indico, in a somewhat sketchy area near Miramar Hotel. The following day I was very tempted to crash the house-party in full swing around the corner, but I really just wanted to get to my destination, and I wasn’t sure what the chapa ride would be like, so, after taking a short walk on the beach and an errand to the bank, I checked out of the hotel, took a chapa to “Baixa,” the main hub/chapa station. There I boarded a full chapa (luckily got a seat way in the back).

The 3 to 4 hour ride to Chimoio was relatively easy and without much incident—a wonderful thing, since we sped through Sofala, which is considered RENAMO country. The road to Chimoio also showcased big-rigs that have flipped over on the side of the road. We have no paved roads here in Cuamba (actually, they just finished paving one road through the center of town where all the government buildings are located), but it seems clear that the tragic disadvantage of paved roads is the higher rate of car accidents. Thank goddess I arrived in Chimoio safely.

So I got to Chimoio, another city that’s worlds apart from Cuamba. I met up with the other CV transfers at Castelo Branco hotel. Our sessions, unlike some in PST or Reconnect, weren’t as demanding. We do have a bunch of paperwork to submit. . . For instance, our Volunteer Report Form (VRF) is due this coming weekend. And I’ve yet to write the letter to my replacement here in Cuamba. I have to revise my “Description of Service” (DOS), etc. etc. Aside from all the forms that we’re reminded to complete, I have to get ready to move to Chimoio, probably mid-November. I also discovered, during the trip, that I would be participating in week 8 of Moz 21’s Pre-Service Training. Hence, the early departure from Cuamba. So, busy, busy, busy.

But those three days of our conference were, believe it or not, relaxing. Maybe it was because we were well-fed, but I think we all are ready for the next chapter, whether it be graduate school, or a job-search, or another year in Moz. As I said during our closing session, I probably would not have decided to come to Mozambique without my Cape Verdean counterparts. It’s been tough here in the north without you all; no one seems to really understand. I appreciate the moments we spent together in Cape Verde and here in Moz, but I’m also grateful to you all because I might not have transferred, might not have met even more wonderful people, without you. I’m a bit sad that we’re all splitting up (again!), but I’m glad and happy that I got to know you.

During our fun conference, I neglected to write “warm fuzzies” to six of you. Sorry. You all know I’m neither warm, nor fuzzy. But let me try to be, just a little:

Marina— you’re an intelligent, strong, and caring woman. You excelled as a PCV, and I’m sure you’ll excel in other future endeavors. I very much enjoyed our hike in Sanicolau and our little ride around Beira to the airport. Wish I can visit you in Cabo Delgado! Alas, our time in country is short, and the distances to travel long. Hope to see you again, if not in CV, then perhaps stateside.

Brendão—I’ll never forget the time in Somada when you whooped our asses in poker, with a shitty 10-3 hand. Dude, I had a pocket pair of aces! And remember that music festa in Tarrafal? You and Lynette’s “sinister shade of green” concoction at Tobey’s? And then that one night drinking bomb brandy at “Baia Verde” restaurant-bar, overlooking Tarrafal beach—was that before or after our epic hike around Tfal? Good times, man. You were cool and stylish through it all. It was awesome to have been in the Santiago crew with you.

Mims— one of the PCV goddesses of Sanicolau, you rock in art and philosophy. I enjoyed hanging out with you and your students’ family in Canto Faja. I’ll miss your cool logic and heartfelt understanding.

Joãzinho— suave João, in case you didn’t know, all us boys looked up to you. Always gracious and thoughtful with an edge, you’ll rock in Portugal and wherever else you go.

Craigles—that was cruel of you to tease us with Blue Moon during our Skype call. I think you owe us all beers when we get back. I’ll miss your good humor and super chill attitude.

Kimi— I miss your visits in Praia, and my visits to your São Domingos, and your Funana dance lessons, and having ice cream at Arctica, and getting groceries at Calu, and hanging out at Café Sofia. . . Ugh, things are so different here in Moz without you. A reunião em Cabo Verde is a must, I think.

To all other PCVs and friends I met these last two years, it has been one hell of a trip and a great pleasure. Seeing you all again would be grand. It was quite grand seeing almost all Moz19ers of Niassa this last weekend for English Theater--a success, by the way. I was very happy and proud of my students´performance. Even though we were busy helping facilitate the event, it was wonderful to see so many familiar faces (Jamie B., Grisha, Eric K., Jade, Ella, Matt J., Alice B., Victor, Hannah), to catch up with what’s been happening even just for a short while. Peace Corps life is strange in that peak experiences can be so high, but perhaps only because they’re surrounded by lull moments. At least that seems to be the case here in Cuamba.

But the month isn’t over yet. Today is Cuamba Day (a district holiday for the city) and there’s to be a concert in town later this afternoon. Now, because I live 6 kilometers away from town, every time I go there is Cuamba Day for me. So, I’ll have to see what “real” Cuamba Day is like for the folks that live there.

sábado, 31 de agosto de 2013

My August (but not so august) Update

It’s the end of August, and a quick look at how September would shape up reveals how swift the school year is wrapping to a close. This coming month we’ve got three holidays (the ones that I know of, at least). Plus, I will be gone for one week of September—from the 6^th to the 13^th—for our Close of Service (COS) conference. I gave my last quiz last Wednesday, and plan to return the quizzes on Monday, which will be a quiz-revision/feedback class, and Wednesday will just be an easy, fun class. We’ll probably just listen to a song, or, if I can borrow the school’s microphone and portable audio/speaker system, an intro to karaoke. When I return to site after the conference, we’ll only have time for review/practice sessions, then the final test and the national exams are just around the corner.
Our (second) COS conference will take place in Chimoio, the provincial capital of Manica, which is about 1,030 km from our site of Cuamba. It’s a complicated three-day trip by train to Nampula (capital of the eponymous province), by airplane to Beira (the capital of Sofala), and then by chapa (minibus) to Chimoio. I’ve only been to Nampula twice, and never to Beira, so I’m glad Peace Corps is handling lodging in these far-away cities. I’m a little apprehensive but excited to take the trip, since I haven’t left site for the last 18 weeks! And, of course, I am looking forward to seeing Cape Verde transfers and other Moz19ers, whom I haven’t seen in the last 9 months. Most of us are leaving Mozambique on different dates from November to December. Actually, I think two have already left the country. No longer are we the “Dirty Dozen” from Cape Verde. I guess we can dub ourselves the “Tenacious Ten,” though all of us will be wrapping up our service, and returning to the states soon enough.

quinta-feira, 18 de julho de 2013

Sodade Revisited

for Kimberly Susan

Forsa, Kimi

I don’t know about other Cape Verde Transfers, but I find myself still making plenty of references to Cabo Verde. I’m sure my sitemates here in Cuamba, and other PCVs in Mozambique who have talked to me, are sick and tired of me doing it, but these references belie not just a sense of loss and longing, what Cape Verdeans call sodade. No, these references also attest to my integration in Kabu Verdi. You see, sodade pervades Cape Verdean culture: it’s the theme in much poetry, art, and music. Understandably so, since more than half of the population is absent from the country, living and working abroad. More than half! This means that probably all Cape Verdeans living in the archipelago experience some sense of loss and longing for those who’ve left, and those who’ve left also experience loss and longing for their homeland, in addition to their feelings and experiences of immigrant otherness. And yes, I’m sure other multi-nationals who have left their country of origin probably feel the same. Indeed, you don’t have to be a multi-national at all to experience sodade. But I know of no other country, save for Kabu Verdi, that sings so much about it.

Sodade, I suppose, can be related to loneliness, the feeling of sadness due to absence of friends, and to nostalgia, the sentimental pining for some happy past. I suppose it’s the loneliness and nostalgia that other PCVs are sick and tired of hearing. “Get over yourself already!” they seem to be thinking. “Get over it! You’re in Mozambique now!”

And yes, sodade is a kind of sadness. It is not, however, as sentimental as nostalgia. No. It is a mourning, a grieving for one’s loss—hence the popular, plaintive “morna” songs of Cesaria Evora. The loss is so immense, the rupture between past and present so deep and vast, that one not only feels loss but is also lost, to the world, or in the world.

I’m no Cape Verdean, but I can relate to this rupture. What startled me the most when I first arrived in Cape Verde on July 15, 2011 was how being there brought me back to the Philippines. I would look down a street in the city of Assomada, where we had our training, and in my mind I would see streets where my grandparents used to live in Batangas, places I hadn’t visited in 14 years. The experience was like looking through reflections of my past, or reading a palimpsest of my life. I would look at my host-mom and images of my aunts would come to me without forethought or premeditation. And how could I forget the sign for respect that Cape Verdeans would show to their elders, the "Da-m benson (or "Bless me)? They would hold an elder´s hand and touch the back of it to their forehead. (Catholic) Filipinos show their respect to their elders in the same exact way, except they say "Mano po" or ("Your hand please). It wasn’t just the place or the people that took me back—the hot and humid weather, the very palpable sticky and tropical climate took me back.

Towards the end of Pre-Service Training, what with all the language classes and the technical sessions and the role plays and the malaria meds, and the Funana, and the weird insect bites, and etc., etc.. . ..I think I started coming off the hinges. I think I went through not just culture shock, but also something else. I wasn’t just different or other or separate from Cape Verde, because I saw it strangely as a part of me already. A part of me that I had forgotten and/or lost. I was so disoriented and depressed at times during PST, I thought, what the hell was I doing there? I should’ve just gone to the Philippines—that country needs a whole lot more help than Cape Verde, after all. I should’ve just gone back to the country of my birth, and tried to cobble together something whole from my disconnected personal history. I did not expect that I was still working through some unresolved issues of being un-American and American, Filipino and un-Filipino. What the hell was I doing in another island nation that doesn’t even see me as an islander, that sees me as some Chinese other?

I had to learn to manage my feelings of affinity and indifference, my ambivalence for Cape Verde. I had to re-learn to manage and move on, just like some 23 years ago, when we first moved to the U.S., just like last year when we first moved to Mozambique.

My housemate Rich has told me, on more than one occasion, that he is ready to create “new memories.” I can see he is creating new memories here with his Mozambican and Portuguese friends, but he also wants to re-visit Honduras, which, to him, is like Cape Verde to us CV Transfers. What's most interesting to me is the phrasing, “new memories,” because it is such a great oxymoron. Memories, by definition, relate to the past—they are never new because they always refer to something old. What’s new, I think, are the thoughts and perspectives that memories can sometimes bring about, if we’re lucky, if we work hard and intelligently enough. They are “new memories” because we ourselves are re-newed. We truly re-see the past in another light, because we approach it from a different point of view. Our recollections are not merely of past events, but re-collections of ourselves.

Now, I’m no Cape Verdean, but I wouldn’t be a proper Cape Verde Transfer in Mozambique if I didn’t feel sodade. Despite my complaints about Cape Verde—and I did complain in Praia—I was, to some extent, integrated. I was a part of Cabo Verde, and now it is still a part of me. More important, I am glad and grateful for our time in Kabu Verdi, the country that takes up a great part of sodade in my heart, the island nation that brought me back to the Philippines, and brought Pilipinas back to me.

I hope you enjoy the following collection of photos from 2011-2012 in Cape Verde. Bob Toomy deserves credit for the ones that are better and of professional quality, so his authorship is cited for the photos he took. If any would like me to take out a photo, just let me know. Or if the caption to a photo is inaccurate/insufficient, I would very much appreciate your informing me. Some captions will definitely need revision. They are photos of some of my favorite people and places in C.V., arranged in chronological order.