terça-feira, 7 de maio de 2013


Second Year with Peace Corps/First Year in Mozambique


The COS (Close Of Service) dates have been sent via email to those who will finish their Peace Corps service this year.  And I gotta say:  we Cape Verde transfers really are like the bastard kids of Peace Corps. 

We´re not Moz19ers (the 19th group of PCVs in Mozambique), since we can´t participate in some of the activities open to legitimate Moz19ers.  Now we´re also tagging along with the Moz17ers (perhaps even crashing their COS conference) who are finishing their second year of service in Mozambique this 2013.  I suppose once we´ve moved out and left our PC family, we can find our own way, our own place of belonging.

I´ve only been at my work site less than six months, but I´ve faced typical 1st year challenges (like figuring out where things are, how things are done, who to trust, living with a new roommate).  Just because I already confronted these problems last year in Cape Verde does not mean they´re less problematic this year.  In fact, having been in Cape Verde I think made Mozambique more difficult.  It´s harder and rougher out here.  I´ll be the first to admit it: I was spoiled in Cape Verde.  I turned soft. . . but still not too smooth, though.

Now, I couldn´t really face these 1st year challenges and confront 2nd year issues (like figuring out where I´d live stateside, whether I would return to previous teaching gigs, and generally what the bloody hell I´d do next post Peace Corps).   I haven´t even contacted my deans and supervisors yet as I manage with dodgy internet access.  Again, I´ve only been at site less than half a year—I could not confront both 1st year and 2nd year issues at the same time. 

So, in case you´re interested to know: I´m going to try to stick with it.  Because the truth is I´m not ready to move back to the states, I will try to extend for another year.  I say “try” because I´m not entirely sure Peace Corps will actually offer me an extension (I´m also trying to move to a more urban, perhaps easier, site).  If PC grants me an extension, I´ll be in Mozambique till December 2014.  If they let me extend for another year of service, they would also let me take a one-month leave back in the states.  And, while I´m not ready to move back, I am so, so ready to visit.

segunda-feira, 29 de abril de 2013


Work and Play


We’ve only had about two months of school at the IFP.  I’ve kicked out 4students, one of whom twice, for not following the rules and expectations (more specifically, for using the internet and playing computer games in the TIC’s class).  I’ve used papel gigante and podcasts and dictation and songs and games and different colored chalk and more papel gigante and etc., etc.  I’ve lectured on the costs of their education, and on how they can repeat the school year next year if they don’t do the work this year, and etc., etc.  The honeymoon stage with students has come and gone.  Work has, once again, overtaken life.  And not just teaching work, but other types of labor in a Peace Corps Volunteer life:  labor like sweeping and mopping the floor, walking or biking to town 6 kilometers away to buy groceries, handwashing clothes and thick blankets (which, when soaked, fyi, baloon into watery masses weighing about 60 lbs).  At the IFP, water and electricity are supposedly basic amenities we can expect and not have to worry about.  And recently we’ve had very few power outages.  About a month ago, however, we had what students were calling a “water crisis.”  The pump for our water supply, apparently, was broken.  We didn’t have water for over 60 hours.  Friday, 22 March, my housemate Rich and I carted water from the well at a Nursing school about a kilometer away.  The buckets were so heavy and the day so hot that we would have to stop every few feet to rest under a shade.  This whole water carting ordeal took over 3 hours.  It was hard, hard labor. 
            So Saturday, 23 March, I got up early in the morning to be sure to get in line when the school opened the water tank, the water source that’s only two blocks away in the school compound, unlike the Nursing school one that is about 12 blocks away.  The students were nice enough to offer to help carry my bucket, like the day before, but as always I refused.  They had their own water-carting to do; I had mine.  I won’t abuse my privilege.  I did, however, enjoy the privilege of getting in front of the line, or rather the semi-circle horseshoe that formed around the water pipe.  I filled up bucket after bucket, taking three trips, which only took about 15 minutes!  I still got sore fingers and arms, but it was nothing like the torture the day before.  And I remembered those times when Mozambicans would cut in front of the line at the ATM or at the loja (store) or wherever else.  During those times, and during the torment of the previous day, I couldn’t help but think: Cuamba sucks.  It sucks ass bad.  But days like that Saturday when Mozambicans are friendly and helpful make me think it’s not that bad. 
            The key then is to have more of those good days.  In Mozambican communities that are still unfamiliar with foreigners, in a culture that’s very closed and reserved like here in Cuamba, those days seem very few and far between.  It helps to hang with fellow foreigners and other PCVs.  Thankfully, we’ve got a few of them here.  We’ve met American missionaries, a married couple, Kenny and Carla, with their lively and beautiful children.  The dinners we’ve had with them at their handsome home bring us back to the states and remind us that our experiences in and perspectives of Mozambique are not abnormal.
            We´ve spent a good amount of time in play and travel.  In the last two months, I visited the city of Mecanhelas for PCV Vicente’s birthday.  We went to the city of Mandimba, where I heard a huge crocodile was found.  We were there for a JUNTOS meeting, and, (un)fortunately missed the crocodile.  I’ve been back to Nampula City for IST (In-Service Training)/Re-connect Conference.  We’ve travelled to the old cities of Angoche and Ilha de Moçambique.  Unfortunately, my camera, or maybe just the memory card, seems to be deteriorating on me, so I don’t have pictures to show for my travels.  I do have some pics to show from our Gurue trip, however.  And no, this was not the St. Patrick’s Day Gurue Weekend.  The following pictures were taken March 9th and March 10th, on a waterfalls hike in gorgeous Gurué in Zambezia.
Brunch at Pensão Gurué, after The Best Boleia Ever 

Blaine the Bliss-Meister to the left, observing some Americans

Teafields and Grand Vistas

The Local Fashion

Gurué Gorgeous


Crossing atop the waterfall


Local Ad for Tobacco. . . and a sample writing of the local language

I hope these pictures satisfy, especially if you want something different from those beachy Vilankulos pics!

domingo, 3 de março de 2013


First week of classes


We just completed our first week of classes (25 to 29 February).  Yes, it was just our first week.  We started late because the students had to take entrance exams and interviews and, well, we are in Mozambique.  We’re just on a different schedule at the IFP.

This semester I am teaching English classes in Listening and Speaking, and one class on computer literacy or TIC’s (Tecnología da Informação e Comunicação—Information and Communication Technology—a mouthful, I know; just think of it as computer literacy or basic use of the computer—I’m no IT specialist).  The students have finished secondary school, have had 4 to 6 years of English, and 2 years of TICs.  They are training to be English teachers themselves.

My agenda for the first day of Listening/Speaking was as follows:
25 February 2013
Monday
Today we will:
  •  Introduce ourselves
  • Discuss our goals and objectives for the class
  • Discuss what you did over the weekend
  • Talk about the rules and expectations in the class


To give the students an example, I introduced myself, told them where I’m from, and where I was or what I was doing last year.  I wrote these three or four points (name, origin/birthplace, work last year) on the board and asked the student to follow them.  There were 30 students, and most were able to follow the self-introduction format I gave, but most also diverged from it.  For instance, many divulged their ages and marital status.  After each student had introduced himself/herself (there are only 6 female students), I discussed the different cultural expectations (American and Mozambican) for self-introductions in professional versus personal or intimate settings.  I explained that usually, age is not offered in professional introductions, and certainly marital status hardly ever.  I explained that this information is personal, and in general Americans like to maintain clear divisions between the personal and the professional realms of their lives.

This talk on cultural expectations is important in a listening/speaking class as culture will mainly be our topic of conversation/interaction (as opposed to grammar, for example, which is the focus of their other classes).  But for the first day of class I really wanted to spend time on expectations because it segued to our objectives, expectations and ground-rules in the class.  Many of the students also said they wanted to be teachers, so I wrote “teacher” on the board as a segue to our main objective.  I pointed out that I am a different teacher from most teachers they have had.  I asked them what they noticed as different.  This took a little while, and then one student, Victor, raised his hand, stood up, and said rather quietly, “behavior, pronunciation, skin.”  I think he jumbled up the beginning of his sentence, but the three differences he stated were clear enough.  I agreed with him, and tackled the second point first, reminding them that I lived in the U.S. for over 20 years and so I am giving them English from the U.S., American, not British.  For “skin,” I pointed out that I am not white, which makes me different from the typical white American they might expect.  For behavior, I asked them to be more specific, and here is where I got a bit stuck.  Realizing that I haven’t given them enough examples of my teaching style, I told them the Mozambican and Cape Verdean teachers I have seen usually just sit in front of class.  We want them to be better teachers, i.e. more like me, I guess, asking for more interaction, more active participation.  I pointed out that we are in an English Speaking/Listening class, and that they are learning a language, lingua, which in Portuguese also means tongue.  I stuck out my tongue and pointed at it.  Then wrote “Practice” and “Use” on the board.  I explained that they need to practice and use English everyday so that they can be strong in it.  This is our main objective, to strengthen their language skills in listening and speaking.  I drew up the following diagram on the board:

Receiving Language
Producing Language
                                      Listening  à Speaking
                                      Listening  ß Speaking
                                        Reading  à  Writing
                                        Reading  ß  Writing

As I drew the arrows, I pointed out that better listeners make for better speakers, and vice versa, that these skills are linked, and that, even though our emphasis in class will be on listening and speaking, we will also do some reading and writing to support the first two skills (I drew arrows pointing up, from reading to listening, and from writing to speaking, but I do not know how to “draw” upward arrows on Word.

We went a bit over time.  I told the students they can take their first break, but most just stayed seated.  I realized that when I said “discuss the goals and objectives of the class” in the agenda this really meant just lecturing to the class.  But this was our first day and we were all just getting warmed up.

When we started the second part of class, I had the students work in small groups of three, asking each other what they did over the weekend.  They struggled with this.  It was good to have them present their findings in front of class, as I saw that they needed more practice with the use of third person pronouns and simple past verbs.  It was challenging for most, but the students had already done individual introductions (I am, I was, etc.), so the natural progression I thought was to introduce others and present what he/she did over the weekend. 

We then took another break and then discussed the ground-rules and expectations in the class.  I had them working in bigger groups (of 5 students), gave each group a sheet of paper and had them write four rules.  I elaborated on the meaning of “expectations,” as some of the students were using the direct translation of “esperar” which is closer to “hope” not “expect.”  I didn’t use any Portuguese, though I also did not prohibit their use of Portuguese.  I gave lots of examples (personal/professional expectations).  The definition I gave them went something like this:  “to expect” involves thinking, reasoning, logic based on evidence; “esperar” or “to hope” involves more feeling, emotion, desire.  I asked them to complete the following sentences:
1.       The class should ______.
2.     We should ______.
3.     I expect the teacher to be _____.
4.    I expect to be _____.

Some of them said they expect to be good teachers, which isn’t incorrect, but it also showed me that they were still conflating “expect” with “hope,” that they were not thinking about expectations as rules in the class.  A couple of other interesting expectations they came up with were:  that students should be obedient and that they expect the teacher to be sympathetic.  I just said okay to obedience—I figured, they are studying a discipline (from the Latin, disciplina, meaning instruction, knowledge), and they as students can be seen as disciples (from discipulus) of English.  So, fine.  I’m their teacher.  I’m to lead them and they are to follow.  I did not simply say okay to being sympathetic, however.  I told them, sometimes I am sympathetic, other times I am not sympathetic.  They were a little surprised by this, and so pressed me for more explanation.  I told them that I must be fair and professional first, and then I can be sympathetic.  If they are not trying, not practicing, not being active students, then I have no sympathy for them.  If they try hard, then I’ll be most sympathetic.

            I collected the sheets of paper (with their names and their completed sentences about their expectations) and gave them H.W. or TPC (Trabalho para casa):  What expectations and rules do your other classes have?

Day 2 of Listening/Speaking
Okay, I don’t mean to give you all the blow-by-blow of my classes, but these reflections I find very helpful in monitoring, organizing, and planning my classes, and I hope other teachers out there will find it helpful as well, at least in generating more ideas for lessons.  Besides, it’s not about sodade, it’s a little different from past blog posts, so hopefully you’ll appreciate that at least.
Here’s the agenda for Day 2 of our class:
27 February 2013
Wednesday
1.      Announcements
2.     Review Rules and Expectations
3.     Collect 10 H.W. assignments
4.    Practice Asking Questions
5.     Elect class leaders

After students had written down the day’s agenda, I announced that we will have English Club.  No one really knew what English Club was about, so I explained that it’s optional, extra English exposure and practice.  They were unsure about “optional,” so I explained that English class is mandatory or obligatory, English Club is NOT obligatory, it’s optional.  It is also for fun.  I then gave them examples of what we would do for English Club:  walks to town, hikes, watching movies.  We then decided on when and where we would meet for English Club.

Next I showed them the list of Rules and Expectations that I wrote up on papel gigante (giant paper, or poster paper), based on their group work from the previous class session.  Here’s the list:
Class Rules and Expecations
1.       Students are to be respectful to each other and to their teacher.
2.     Students are to be professional and disciplined.
3.     All students must participate in class, always using/practicing English.
4.    The teacher will be professional, honest, fair, patient, and sympathetic.
5.     Class lessons are to be clear and organized.
6.     Everyone must be responsible and punctual.

I asked the students to give examples for each rule and gave my own commentary.  I emphasized “no laughing at each other” and “being brave to make mistakes” as examples of #1 and #2, minimal use of Portuguese and other local languages for #3

Next, I asked them what consequences would result if they do not follow the rules or meet the expectations.  I gave them the example:  “If I am not ________, I would ______.”  Or, “If I do not _____, the teacher would _____.”  The students worked in groups of five to complete the sentences, to come up with consequences for each rule/expectation.

This activity was practically impossible for the low-level students, and challenging for most.  Again, I asked each student to offer a response, but I wrote up only some of their responses, and made corrections on the board. 

Only about half of the students presented before we had to take a break.  After break, we continued at a much faster pace, each student offering consequences.  For the groups with the low-level students, I gave a spiel about the need to help each other, to practice before presenting.  The best way to learn something is to teach that something, and since they are training to be teachers, then they ought to practice teaching each other.  I remember I used to get so frustrated about this, about students just being out for themselves, not caring about their colleagues’ learning.  But in this class I was fairly even-tempered about it, I guess because I expected it would happen.  Anyway, I’ll have to remind them about teaching/helping each other—most will want to take the easy route, to just come up with answers and not have to work with others.

At the end of their presentations, I asked them to copy the following agreement:  “If I, _____ (name), do not follow the rules or meet the expectations of the class, the teacher can send me out of the class.”  I had to explain what the agreement meant, that when they are not meeting the expecations, they are not ready for class, not ready to learn, and I am not sympathetic.  I told them I would point to the door and say, “Leave!”  Or “Sai!”  Or “Rua!”   I asked them to sign below their copied agreement.

After that serious activity, we practiced asking yes/no questions by playing the game of “Detectives.”  I chose one student as detective, explained that as detective he will leave the class for a moment while someone “commits a crime,” and when he returns he must ask 10 students individually if he/she committed the crime.  They seemed to love this game, which I took from Penny Ur’s Five-Minute Activities, by the way.  It’s a simple and easy way to practice yes/no questions.  The “detective” comes back to class, asks 10 students, “Did you steal the teacher’s pen?” and then guesses which student actually has the pen/keys/cell-phone, which student looks the most guilty or the most criminal.  You can change the “crime,” of course, and give them “Did you break the window?”, “Did you eat his snack?”, etc.  It was our first time playing this game, and the students seemed to really enjoy it, so we played it again, this time with three detectives, but each with only five guesses. 

Next we were going to practice Wh-questions, but we were running out of time, so instead I gave the activity as H.W.  I listed the Wh-questions (What, Where, Who, Why, Whose, When, Where, How), and asked the students to write as many questions as they can about the following statement:  “Cuamba is the best city in Mozambique.”  On Monday, I will randomly collect 10 H.W. assignments from the other 20 that I did not collect that Wednesday.  This focus on question-asking, by the way, is both pedagogically sound (some Language Learning theorists might even say that learning happens best when students are asking real questions) and designed with an end-goal in mind: to interview guest-speakers. I’ve already asked PCV Colin and my housemate PCV Rich to speak to my class.  I might also be able to schedule a talk with a Malawian woman, Miriam, who works in town and speaks English well.  Next semester, we might practice with mock (job) interviews.

At the end of class, we elected a Chefe de Turma (Class Chief) and Adjunto de Chefe de Turma (Vice-Chief of Class).  One student volunteered (nominated himself), and then, when no one seemed to step up, I just nominated three other students.  I then asked for a show of hands (their votes) for each of the students.  Luckily, the one I nominated and thought most responsible got elected.  I then asked the new Chefe de Turma to nominate three other students as her Adjunto, and we voted using the same open process.


Day 3 for the students of English—Day 1 of TIC’s
I was originally supposed to teach computer classes to students in the regular track, those who want to be teachers of Portuguese, or Math, or Biology, those who do not want to be English teachers.  However, after some negotiation with the main TICs teacher and our pedagogical director, I was able to get the TICs class for my English students, who also need more training in using computers.  Last Tuesday (26 February), I observed the TICs Teacher Trainer conduct one of his classes.  I realized then that, while I may be able to teach basic computer use in Portuguese, it is not strong enough for me to be able to elaborate and expand on the concepts that the TICs teacher (who is Cuban, by the way) presented in his class. 
            
     So I was happy to get my English students, thinking, of course, that I would be able to use some English in TICs class, and how wonderful it would be that they could use English in a very hands-on way with computers, many of which were set in English, not Portuguese, anyway.  The head TICs teacher also gave me his powerpoint presentations, which, you might think, would make my job easier, and they did; however, the presentations are in Portuguese, and so for our first class of TICs I mainly spoke in Portuguese.  I found it difficult to switch to English, since the lesson/base (the powerpoint slides) I was following were in Portuguese.  The night before TICs class I went through all the slides, revised some of them, and made sure I understood what each one said.  Here was our agenda for that first day:
•      A apresentação da disciplina TIC´s e Pesquisa-acção.
•      Estructura Básica do PC.
•      Aplicaçaõ da TIC`s  no processo  de ensino aprendizagem.
  • •      Uso de mouse pelo “Paint”

Following the head TICs teacher’s lessons, I get a little weary at rapid pacing of the class.  Next week we are supposed to start using the internet already!  I like to go in-depth; I don’t like to just breeze through topics.  In this initial class, it was probably okay to just briefly cover concepts, most of which the students will not really need.  Concepts like ROM and RAM, for example, will probably have less practical use for them.  So, I spent only about 25 minutes talking about what TICs is, and then the rest of class time (about 75 minutes) on actual use of the computer, practice using the mouse, using the “Paint” program.  I gave them specific instructions:  “Escolhe a ferramenta lapis” (Choose the pencil tool). “Escreva o seu nome com o lapis” (Write your name with the pencil).  “Da um click no circulo, e faça este circulo no documento” (Click on the circle, and make this circle on your document). 

Now, while a few of the students struggled with handling the mouse and maneuvering the pointer on the screen, many seemed to do okay.  They all could use more practice, definitely.  So I think we met the main objective of our first class.  I’m not so sure about the other, future classes, though.  In English classes, I get a better idea of how the students are doing based on the level of interaction and the quality of the language they produce.  In TICs class, there’s not a whole lot of interaction, and we can’t really produce (or print) their work because we don’t have the resources for that.  For next class, I will have students themselves explain and expand on the concepts presented, so that I can get them to be more active.

Also, I still need to decide on how much English to use.  I think the initial, lecture section of the class should be in Portuguese.  But I still think English would help. . . not just me, but the students, as well.  Admittedly, I lack the mastery of teaching TICs.  I told the students this up front.  In the beginning of class, I listed my degrees in literature and in teaching English (in an effort to assert my own status and authority).  I told them I’ve got training in teaching English, but not in teaching TICs.  But, I told them, I’ve been using computers for over 20 years, so I could help them develop skills in using computers.  Then when I proposed the idea of using English in TICs, I recall one low-level English student that did not seem enthused.  Granted, using English may detract from learning TICs, but the students are training to be English teachers, so I’d be foolish not to take advantage of this opportunity to have them wrestle with some English in TICs.  So my plan is to only use Portuguese during the lecture/powerpoint portion of the class, then English when they are actually using the computers so that they would be using English in a very hands-on, (digitally) concrete way, and then with individual students I can still use Portuguese if they are lost.  I’ll propose this again in the next class, and then take a poll or have them vote.

English Club on Sundays
Today we met for English club and went on a hike up the “church hill” (atop the hill at the back of our school compound there is an old ruined church).  Actually, yesterday we were supposed to meet to walk to town, but only four students showed up.  Apparently, most of the students had to do some work, some weeding, as punishment for I guess missing their curfew the night before?  Anyway, students expressed interest in going, so I decided to do a hike with them today and 17 students came.  With such a large group, I was surprised I still got to talk to all of them.  I asked each one what they like or don’t like about the city of Cuamba (many said they didn’t like it).  So that was mainly our conversation as we hiked up the hill, whose name escapes me, but I think the students said Mpocura Mountain?  It’s easier for me to remember things when they are written down.  All I remember from this talk about the “church hill” was me thinking that this mound is too small to be called “mountain.”  It normally takes 40 minutes to get up there, but it took us close to an hour.  We left the school around 8:40am and didn’t get back till 11:30am.

The students here are very respectful and formal.  When they are sitting around waiting for class and a “Formador” (teacher trainer) walks by, they all stand up to greet this teacher.  I wonder if they would keep this up throughout the year.  I kinda’ like it.  In the U.S., I had my share of disrespectful students (who might have even slashed my tires—there’s no way to know).  My students also seem very motivated, asking me lots of questions about grammar.  I intended English Club to be informal and fun, but I do like grammar and think it’s fun, so it’s great that they’re asking me questions (even if they’re still not formulating those questions properly). 
            
For now, it seems English Club is a great idea.  In Cape Verde very few students showed up for English Club—Cape Verdeans in Praia are just too busy doing their own thang.  Even though today was just our first day, it looks like English Club would be a success because the students live in the school compound and we are far from town without much to do on the weekends.  

quinta-feira, 14 de fevereiro de 2013


Happy V-Day


            Happy Valentine’s Day!  Don’t you just love (LOVE!!!) this time of year?  The cold melts a little by the heat of love birds chirping along at the park, at the beach, at the movies, or, if you happen to find yourself in rural Mozambique, at the machamba (a small plot of farm land).  Heralds of spring, these love birds seem, until one is left disappointed, alone, heartbroken.  Then they transform themselves into vultures of vile, harbingers of hate. . . Happy V-day.  That sounds better.  Makes one think of D-day.  Also, it abbreviates quite neatly as V.D. 

As promised, this blog will not reek of sickly sentiment (it won’t go beyond sodade, I promise), though a bit of bitterness doesn’t seem so bad as long as there’s a little humor in it, and that humor is delivered at the expense of no one.  Of course, when one’s alone on V-day, that’s exactly what one often feels:  like no one.  Lest we lose ourselves in memories of past relationships, let’s re-direct this blog.  Let’s move into fiction. Short, short fiction, that is.  Or at least the sketch of a short story.

So, let’s re-start.  Let’s leave Mozambique for a moment, and the whole African continent, if you like.  Imagine . . . a writer.  She is a college student, let´s say, majoring in botany, but is taking a creative writing course to fulfill some liberal/fine arts requirement.  It is late afternoon and she sits in front of her desk in her dorm room, typing away at her laptop, letting her mind fly where it may.  The class is only an elective, so she might as well have fun with it.  It won’t affect her G.P.A. any; she registered the class as pass/no-pass credit. 

But she’s starting off a little flustered.  She spent the greater part of the morning and lunch time in front of her computer, but not on writing.  She was on facebook, stalking “friends,” seeing their jubilant pictures, indulgent comments, and asinine updates.  She had been stalking one guy in particular, an ex-boyfriend, and she realizes only now that she has been writing up a portrait of this ex:  of his insecurities, his issues with his mother, his teeny, weeny penis.  It was a useful exercise in descriptive writing, in showing not telling, but it isn’t something she would ever turn in to be workshopped in her class.  No.  He may have been one misogynistic little prick, but she herself was not brought up to be so mean-spirited.  She knows she’s expected to be nice and to play fair.

She saves her reactionary piece then and opens another document.  She rolls up her sleeves, takes a deep breath, plays Feist on her itunes.  She wants to write for real now.  But what does she want to write?  Even though it’s Valentine’s day, or because of it—hence, the aimless facebook stalking—she’s been meaning to write a romantic comedy for a while now, and today is just the impetus for it.  She knows it’s not great literature; she doesn’t intend it to be.  The male students in her class, let alone the declared creative writing majors, will surely look upon her with disdain.  The story will be cliché, but that’s the piece that she wants to write right now.  Something with a happy ending.  A romantic comedy.   

She knows the possible story lines.  Boy meets girl.  Or vice versa.  Or boy meets boy.  Or girl, girl.  She wants something she can relate to, nothing titillating, so, boy meets girl it is.  Just a simple story of how two people meet, undergo hurdles and hitches along their journey together, only to realize that they are their own barriers in the face of their love for each other.  There’s really no mystery.  The problem is she wants this story to be genuinely heartwarming, and, though she’s only a first-year college student, our writer knows well enough that genuine and cliché don’t mix. . .

What else would she know?  Does she know her psychology?  That her desire for this story is a sign of her wishful thinking?  Does she know how complicated desire is?  Has she experienced, for instance, actually getting what or who she wants, only to realize later that he is not the one she really wanted in the first place?  That he is not the one for her?  Or even that he is very bad for or to her?  Has she experienced wanting more, and more, and more from someone, yet never getting enough?  Or wanting someone who doesn’t want her back enough, or doesn’t want her at all?
 
Our budding botanist of a writer is only eighteen years old, but she is a young woman, and women, in general, seem to mature much faster than men, so let’s say that, though she hasn’t yet personally experienced the vagaries of romantic relationships, she has an intuitive sense about her.  But only an intuitive, sort of cultural sense, not the practical experience.  Otherwise, she would find it desirable to be alone, if she knows she can discover bliss in it.
 
But for now she’s caught up with the idea that bliss is embodied in the other, which isn’t such a bad idea.  The tension, it seems to her, is between the old-fashioned notion of one’s other half, the counterpart of one’s soul, and the more common or currently accepted idea that intimate relationships begin with physical attraction, with “chemistry,” before it can transform into love.  A part of her believes, or wants to believe, in the troubadour songs of love at first sight, in the meeting of the eyes, and recognition of identity in the other, that instant flash and seizure of the soul being swept away by divine destiny.  But another part of her really believes in the lust that sparks a relationship, in sexiness (or sex) first, and then development of the deeper, spiritual connection later.  She would like to believe that there is that one person for her, the man with whom she is meant to be.  But she thinks this is silly and naïve. 

Our writer is cool and hip, and so she decides to do away with the “boy meets girl” scheme, and starts in medias res, in the middle of things, or in this case, in the middle of a relationship.  She decides to begin her story with two college students, a girl and a boy already together as a couple.  The two characters are walking together to their next class through the quad.  No, the lawn is damp, and she’s wearing heels.  So they walk around the quad.  They are heading to Hart Hall, which literally exists on campus, but she chooses it for its homonym.  Get it?  “Heart” Hall?  The two characters are having a discussion that’s verging on an argument: on the topic of non-native eucalyptus trees in the Bay Area, how invasive they are, how they are fire hazards, and what should be done about them.  They are also botany majors, but the boy represents logic, the girl feeling and intuition.  Our writer-wanna-be is working out the dialogue that would demonstrate the tension between the two, when she hears loud knocking on the door.


 “Who is it?”  She turns down the music—Feist’s “Now at Last” is playing. 
“It’s Sal. . . from downstairs?”  He knows where he lives, but the doubt, the inflection in his words asks if she remembers him.
She opens the door.  “Oh hey.  What’s up, Sal?”  She’s met him before, but only now remembers his name.
“I heard music playing from your room, figured you’re staying in.  Not gonna go see The Notebook playing at the campus cinema?”
“Ha! Hell no!  Are you kidding me?  My roommate went, though.  I was just typing a paper for class.” 
“Oh.”  He looked disappointed. 
“Yeah.  Leila left with Dave, or Dan, or some dude or another.”  Guys are wont to look for Leila.  Sal’s probably doing the same.
“Why are you doing work?  Your paper’s not due tomorrow, is it?” Sal asks.
“No, no it’s not. . .” 
An awkward silence.  She doesn’t know what else to say; she already told him Leila has left the building.  The guy would usually be gone by now.
“I know it’s only Thursday, but a few of us are doing movie nite at the lounge downstairs.  My roommate Jack’s got a projector.  There’s popcorn, too.  Thought you might like to join us.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles.  Another awkward pause.  She wants to ask what movies they’re watching, and who “a few of us” are.
“You ever seen Happy Accidents?  It’s a great film.  We’re about to watch that and then later Shakespeare in Love.  I haven’t seen it, but it was Sandra’s recommendation.” 
Our writer/botanist has, in fact, seen both movies.  But she hasn’t seen them in a while.  She wants to see them again—for research, she thinks, as they are two excellent films—but this guy Sal seems too interested in her going.  She is reluctant.
“Maybe you’ve got a movie you’d like to bring and watch?”
“Okay,” she finally says.  “I’ll go.  Let me just grab my keys.”  Anyway, it would be good to talk to Sandra, who is taking the same creative writing class.  .  .

Maybe Sal will ask our writer-character out on a date at the end of their movie nite.  He doesn’t seem very shy.  And maybe she’ll be open enough to him, and say yes, if she’s not too hung up on her ex.  But this little fantasy is getting too long, as I’m sure you would agree. 
I need to get back to reality.  I heard somewhere out there, waiting for me, there’s a hot cup of chá de calcinhas—Portuguese for “tea of panties.”  I’ll spare you the details.  Suffice it to say that this chá is an aphrodisiac here in Mozambique.  

Oh Mozambiki!  Here’s a toast, to some of your quirky realities!  Bottoms up.

sexta-feira, 8 de fevereiro de 2013


novidades


Not much has been going on here in Cuamba.  The small bridge linking our school to the town proper is flooded, so we are a bit stranded at the IFP. . . I'm exaggerating--there's another, bigger bridge, but it is much farther from where we live.

About three weeks ago, prospective students at the IFP took their entrance exams, the results for which arrived late.  Last week we finished interviewing the students that passed the English exams.  I witnessed a director changing the score of one applicant, from a failing score of 8, to a passing 10.  I reason with myself, thinking that 10 out of 20, 50% as passing for Mozambique, is not really passing in the outside world.  Or, at least the applicant is only trying to be an English teacher, not a physician.  Can you imagine your doctor only barely passing his/her exams?  Sheesh.  

Still, I couldn't help but wonder what the point was of us teachers averaging and deliberating on scores only to be changed by someone who was never even at the interview.  And what the hell is up with these teachers laughing at the applicants?  Ok, so some of students probably should not have even applied in the first place, but there's no need to humiliate them.  Give them a non-passing score and send them on their way.  Teachers would laugh and look at me, expecting me to participate.  Ugh!  As one of the interviewers, I felt like it was as if they were beating a dead horse.  No, worse.  As if they were rejoicing around a drowning horse.  

Anyway, so now we are waiting for the results of those (dubious) past assessments.  I know secondary schools have already started, but we haven't yet, and so I've just been reading and writing, though there were a few days last week when I was just binging on chocolates and True Blood.  

I've almost finished Joseph Campbell's Power of Myth.  I've also just re-discovered my love for olive oil.  I guess I've been trying to escape, a little, from the everyday work of integrating in my community.  I need to get back into the swing of things. 

At the risk of seeming like a total bum, let me admit I was excited to hear about "Beer Olympics."  But the more I think of it, the less sure I am of going.  I want/need to see fellow PCVs, but Vil is so, so far!  But then if I don't go, I may never see some PCVs from Cape Verde, or from PST 2.0. . . depending on whether I COS (Close of Service) this year or not.

So.  I don't know.  I don't really care about the drinking, nor the activities associated with it.  I just want to see y'all again.

sexta-feira, 25 de janeiro de 2013


“Estamos Juntos”


All PCVs in Mozambique will be familiar with the expression “Estamos juntos.”  It is Portuguese (and Spanish), literally meaning “We are together” but it functions as a way to take leave or say goodbye.  Saying estamos juntos seems as common, if not more so, as saying “Farewell” (Fica bem) or “See ya’ later” (Até logo).  I first encountered the expression in Namaacha during Pre-Service Training, but I hear it now almost every day here in Cuamba.

The possibilities of interpretations for estamos juntos are fun to play around with.  The expression could be read as:  “We are joined together;” “We are united;” “We are in partnership;” “We’re linked;” “You and I are one;” “I’m leaving but I’ll still be with you, and you with me;” “Parting is such sweet sorrow, so let's keep in touch. . .”

Playfulness aside, what’s most interesting for me is the formal Tagalog translation, because one must decide between two interpretations—Estamos juntos, in Tagalog, could be interpreted as: 1. Magkasama tayo, or 2. Magkasama kami.  What’s crucial here is the first-person plural “We” which Tagalog splits in two, first as “tayo” (we-inclusive) and second, as “kami” (we-exclusive).  So, the we-inclusive number 1. of “We are together” in Tagalog could be interpreted as “We, you and I both, are together” (Magkasama tayo).  However, the we-exclusive number 2. would be “We, and others like me, but unlike you, are together.”

Perhaps a situational example can clarify.  Say for example you are a PCV in Cape Verde and, having served there for over a year, Peace Corps transfers you to another country and asks you to undergo “Pre-Service Training” again.  Naturally, you and others like you, would occasionally say during parts of this second training that, “We have done this already.”  In Tagalog your “we” must be “kami,” (I and other Cape Verde transfers, we) excluding the other trainees who are participating in PST for the first time.  Thus, “kami” excludes your listener(s), while “tayo” includes them. 

English and Portuguese (and perhaps all Indo-European languages) use only one word for “we” (nos in Portuguese, nosotros in Spanish, nous in French).  “Estamos juntos” is therefore ambiguous, obfuscating who “we” are.  In fact, you don’t even see nos in the expression; it’s omitted but is fused in the verb estamos.  Another way to look at it is that it doesn’t obscure “we,” but carries the double-entendre of “You and I—the both of us are together” (inclusive), and “We, Mozambicans, are united, but not with you, foreigner” (exclusive).

Generally speaking, I think Mozambicans mean the former when they use “estamos juntos,” but plenty of times I get the feeling they are actually saying the latter, acting as if they are only out for themselves in a dog-eat-dog world.  Let me list some examples that contradict “estamos juntos,” examples illustrating how disconnected “we” are:
  • ·       Cutting in line at the ATM and at the padaria (bakery) and at the loja (store).
  • ·       Next door neighbors throwing their trash in our backyard.
  • ·       We’re told not to use an electric stove so that we do not hike up the electric bill of the school—but our next door neighbor has just installed an AC unit, and another neighbor just bought a commercial deep freezer (we found out because he showed us the English instructional manual for us to translate into Portuguese).
  • ·       We’re told to use the gas stove provided by the school, but this stove is broken.
  • ·       We’re told to buy gas tanks in town, but the town is 6 kilometers away, and we have no means of transporting gas tanks. . . and no one in town sells gas tanks anyway because most use carvão (charcoal).
  • ·       We’re told that we have a meeting at 8am, but the meeting does not actually start till 9:15am
  • ·       The facilitator of the meeting announces the names of colleagues who are either late or are absent, as a way of reprimanding their lack of punctuality and unprofessional behavior.
  • ·       During the meeting, facilitators are sending or reading SMS messages on their cellphones.  One even answered the phone right in the middle of his announcements, and had a 5 minute conversation in front of his audience.

Our next door neighbors, as another example, also use our backyard to hang dry their clothes.  Is this what they mean by “estamos juntos”—that what’s yours is mine, and mine yours?  In our case, I think our back yard is seen as "theirs" because there is no reciprocity, no sharing between our two houses.  They share their garbage with us, but not much else.  They put up their clothesline in our backyard because, I think, they don’t want it blocking their own backdoor, and they want the extra space to hang the clothes of the two families living in their house.

I don’t mean to present too negative a view of Mozambique here.  Saying one thing and meaning or doing another is not at all particular to Mozambique, to be sure.  Certainly I saw the same “dog-eat-dog” world in Cape Verde, in the U.S., and in the Philippines.  It’s safe to say that hypocrisy is universal, that what varies is the degree of hypocrisy from country to country, culture to culture.  Perhaps what’s important, whether in a developing or a “developed” country, is to put up a mirror to that hypocrisy, to show reflections of the self from the other’s perspective, because things like “estamos juntos” only smokescreens the truth.

            So what is the “truth” behind “estamos juntos?”  Maybe it’s not a smokescreen at all, but more a sign of an aspiration, an expression of the Mozamibican dream of being united after the country’s civil war (1975-1992).  This aspiration we can see in their national anthem, in "Povo unido do Rovuma ao Maputo (People united from Rovuma [in the north] to Maputo [in the southern region]).  I know my experience is based only in Cuamba, Niassa; however, the disparity in levels of development between north and south seems to me very real.  So maybe “we” should not be read as “we Mozambicans,” or “we men,” or “we the elite, the ones in charge and in power (who are mostly men).”  I’m no expert on Mozambican history, but I can see that we are together in that we are all just working with and working through the postcolonial inheritance of rigid social hierarchies and inequities.  Taking this more historical perspective makes the challenges of living and working in Mozambique a little easier to take, or at least more understandable. 
The sign outside our school reads: "Mozambique--One and Indivisible"

Then again, is the “truth” we want really for everyone to be “juntos?”  Wouldn’t it be suffocating, maybe even repressive, to be lumped together in one big, monolithic “we?”  Wouldn’t we lose our independence, our autonomy, and our privacy?    

I don’t know.  Right now, what seems clear to me is the divisions, the separation, the isolation.  What seems clear is the everyday work of bridging the gap not just between utterance and meaning, between the word and the world, not just between writer and reader, but also between PCVs and host-country nationals (HCNs).  We really just need to keep talking to and keep interacting with our neighbors and with other HCNs.  Keep integrating.  There’s nothing else to be done.  Of course, it's easier said than done.

On another personal level, “estamos juntos” sounds like some wicked joke, now that I’m so far apart, so disconnected from most of you in the U.S., from those I met in Cape Verde, from the folks I got close to in PST 2.0.  I hate to always bring these blog posts to my own personal sodade, but maybe if I get more emails, calls or text messages, I’ll finally stop my griping.  Just drop me a line, for heaven’s sake!  Bridge the gap between our shared past and our present separation.  This gap between you and me.  
Estamos juntos.