Well … it’s been a while since I’ve written one of these – so where to even start? As my one year anniversary in Mozambique passed by in September, it triggered me to reflect on my time spent here. I must say it has been a roller coaster ride to say the least. The greatest most fulfilling experiences in my life have occurred here, yet I’ve also encountered my lowest lows where I was struggling just to get through the day. Through it all though – I appreciate every second I’ve spent in this beautiful place and wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
As most of you know, my primary project in the Peace Corps is as a secondary school English teacher in a town called Monapo in Nampula, Mozambique. With each classroom packed with over 80 Mozambican students with a language barrier in a country whose culture I still wasn’t all that familiar with – it was intimidating to say the least. Surprisingly, being up in front of the classroom, teaching my 9th grade students felt very natural. My students quickly became my life here. Now that the first school year is over – I look back and realize that they have taught me so much more than I’ve taught them. They are so amazing. They live a more grueling and challenging life than I could ever imagine – yet still live so carefree and with beaming smiles on they’re faces each day. It truly is inspiring. Please don’t get me wrong though – some days I would come home from school completely exhausted and in tears from their lack of determination, capacity to retain information, and ‘collectivist’ aka cheating ways. The school system is quite different here though. As I said – each class has over 80 students in it – and each student is a number, not a name. I was a ninth grade teacher – however my students ranged from ages 15 to about 21 or 22. The majority of my students are males – because here, the women get an early start on getting married and having children and that gives them no time for school. Even many of the young girls who are in my classes are married with children already. My school is made up of 9 classrooms – each classroom with desks and a chalk board. That’s it. Nothing else. They don’t have text books, computers, maps donning the walls; chemicals for chemistry class, visual aids, diagrams – nothing. Thinking back to my high school days – I couldn’t imagine learning with such a limited amount of resources – and they don’t. It became extremely frustrating – but the students aren’t to blame. Even simple things are challenges, like pointing out where Mozambique is on a map of Africa, thinking white people can’t get sick, thinking that your blood type being negative or positive has something to do with you having AIDS, pointing out where Europe is on a map, thinking birth control pills are for men, having sex with a virgin cures AIDS, thinking Jon Claude Van Dam is a crazy man running around killing people in the United States that we can’t find and put in jail, if you don’t have sex-then you will go mentally insane, or thinking that Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor of California because they have no laws there – so he was sent in to open a can of whoop ass terminator style … I can’t make this stuff up.
As most of you know, my primary project in the Peace Corps is as a secondary school English teacher in a town called Monapo in Nampula, Mozambique. With each classroom packed with over 80 Mozambican students with a language barrier in a country whose culture I still wasn’t all that familiar with – it was intimidating to say the least. Surprisingly, being up in front of the classroom, teaching my 9th grade students felt very natural. My students quickly became my life here. Now that the first school year is over – I look back and realize that they have taught me so much more than I’ve taught them. They are so amazing. They live a more grueling and challenging life than I could ever imagine – yet still live so carefree and with beaming smiles on they’re faces each day. It truly is inspiring. Please don’t get me wrong though – some days I would come home from school completely exhausted and in tears from their lack of determination, capacity to retain information, and ‘collectivist’ aka cheating ways. The school system is quite different here though. As I said – each class has over 80 students in it – and each student is a number, not a name. I was a ninth grade teacher – however my students ranged from ages 15 to about 21 or 22. The majority of my students are males – because here, the women get an early start on getting married and having children and that gives them no time for school. Even many of the young girls who are in my classes are married with children already. My school is made up of 9 classrooms – each classroom with desks and a chalk board. That’s it. Nothing else. They don’t have text books, computers, maps donning the walls; chemicals for chemistry class, visual aids, diagrams – nothing. Thinking back to my high school days – I couldn’t imagine learning with such a limited amount of resources – and they don’t. It became extremely frustrating – but the students aren’t to blame. Even simple things are challenges, like pointing out where Mozambique is on a map of Africa, thinking white people can’t get sick, thinking that your blood type being negative or positive has something to do with you having AIDS, pointing out where Europe is on a map, thinking birth control pills are for men, having sex with a virgin cures AIDS, thinking Jon Claude Van Dam is a crazy man running around killing people in the United States that we can’t find and put in jail, if you don’t have sex-then you will go mentally insane, or thinking that Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor of California because they have no laws there – so he was sent in to open a can of whoop ass terminator style … I can’t make this stuff up.
Another stress and something that I still haven’t been able to get accustomed to and probably never will is the corruption in the school system. Although some of my colleagues are really amazing and care a lot about the students –others really are not. There are some that rarely come to class, sleep with the young, impressionable female students to raise their grades, accept bribes, come to school and teach drunk, hit the students and treat them with no respect. This was a harsh reality to get thrown into – and it’s sickening to watch and absolutely breaks my heart. I’ve become very attached to some of my students here and they have become really close friends of mine-so to see them being educated and treated like that kills me. One of my students had a baby a few months ago, and he asked me to name it. It was so exciting! I named him Marco after my dad – they look a lot alike - it’s uncanny. His child lives about an hour walk from where we are – so we’ve been visiting a lot recently. The walk is nice because it gives us time to talk – and I try to get through to him as much as I can. He’s an 18 year old child who now has 2 children of his own. Through our talks – he’s finally told me that he knows he needs to stop this behavior. He’s in ninth grade – and is not in the condition to take care of a baby. One of my other students came over yesterday and started laughing and told me that another one of my students’ children died the day before. He was laughing – so I thought he was joking. He kept laughing but assured me that he was serious. I asked him what he died of – and they were all shocked that I even asked that. They all were like, ‘teacher, we’re poor here. Malnutrition.’ in a- come on, don’t you know that, way. And so I explained to them that if they don’t have the means to take care of a child well – than they shouldn’t have one. I have noticed that many Mozambicans react to death very differently than I do – and it’s hard to relate.
Death has been a difficult struggle for me here. I’ve been fortunate to not have to deal with death in my life that much – at least up until I came here. My students are constantly going through and dealing with deaths in their families- and I’m shocked that they can stay so strong. This last trimester of school was an incredible struggle. I spent July break in Malawi and in the northern part of Mozambique – which was amazing. When I got back, I found out that one of my friends here passed away while giving birth to her son. She was like my Mozambican equivalent in a way. We were the same age – but I always looked at her and thought, ‘wow – this is what my life would be like if I grew up here’. She was 23 and pregnant with her 4th child. She was uneducated and lived in a mud hut with a controlling husband that sleeps around with other women, didn’t let her leave the house, let her talk to people, or treat her with any respect at all for that matter. Seeing how her life was like here, made me really realize how lucky I am. It was also nice to have a female friend here – because she was my only one. It’s almost impossible to find female friends here because most of the women my age are already married and have a family of their own – just worlds apart. She was the most adorable pregnant woman I’ve ever seen too – and although she didn’t seem to have the best life – she always had a smile on her face. It took a while for me to grieve after her death, because I honestly just didn’t know how and there was no one to grieve with. I was the only non Mozambican to know her – and as I said before - we deal with death very differently than they do. Death is a constant reality that people face everyday here – so in a way, it seems like they’re used to it – which is so sad.
Then, about a month after, a 10th grade student was washing his clothes in the river in my town and was eaten by a crocodile. People around saw – but couldn’t do anything about it because they would have been killed too. Then, about a week later, one of my students died suddenly without explanation except the fact that he was ‘sick’ for a few days. It was very strange the way it all happened. None of my students would say his name – like I said before, the students are a number and not a name. Everyone was just saying, ‘Number 5 in Nona Cinco died’– it was the strangest thing. Walking into his class the first time was kind of a blur. I was very unsure how to act, what to do, whether I should skip over his number when I was doing attendance – it was strange. I walked in with tears in my eyes, because I really couldn’t hold it in. My students seemed to be confused why I was so upset. I told them all to stand up so we could do a moment of silence. One kid made a joke and everyone started laughing. It was just so bizarre to me to see these kids so oblivious to the fact that one of their friends just died. After the moment of silence, I asked if anyone wanted to say anything. They were all just talking and joking around like nothing happened though. It was all very odd, and made it very clear that there is a big cultural difference when it comes to death.
On a better note (sorry for the downer) … now that the first school year is over, I’ve been keeping busy doing things around the house. I’ve become a big yard work enthusiast. It’s a new hobby of mine – especially sweeping dirt. It’s hard to explain, but its quite common here – try it out. I’ve also been spending a lot of time with my students. The other day, I went with a few of them waaaaaaaaay out into the bush where one of their families lives. It was beautiful and his family was so nice and welcoming of the white girl. We went to this party where they were playing big bongos and dancing and singing traditional songs. The party was for a girl that just menstruated for the first time – so that means that she will go out and find a husband now. It was a major – ‘Oh my god – I’m in Africa’ moment. They were so nice and it was so fun to see and be part of the culture.
So, like I said – I appreciate every experience I’ve been faced with here. I’ve learned so much about myself in this past year and I’ve truly never felt happier. I live in such an amazingly beautiful country with beautiful people and I considerer myself so lucky. The stupid little things – like brushing my teeth outside as the sun is rising, seeing women donned in beautiful brightly colored traditional clothing, getting visits at my house from my students, the beautiful views and sunsets, and just the day to day strange yet inevitable occurrences that make this experience what it is. It sounds so corny – but it’s so true. Thank you all so much for the support from home- I couldn’t do it without you. Especially my parents who are insanely amazing and help me through the tough situations. Your support and everything you’ve done for me means more to me than you’ll ever know. Also the rest of my family and friends back home –you all have helped me so much. The letters, texts, calls, and little random messages mean a lot. It keeps me going and gives me something to look forward to in a year. Last but certainly not least are my 2 favorite big heads-Jamie and Alex. There are no words that can even begin to tell you how much I appreciate the both of you. I feel so extremely lucky to not only meet you, but for you to be 2 of my best friends. You’re doing amazing things here in Moz and it motivates me to do better. Thank you a million times over – you guys are making this experience better than I ever could have imagined.
So I suppose that’s all for now. I think I did a pretty lousy job summing up the year in just one blog post – but it’s almost impossible. My goal is to write more frequently … I’m so mad at myself that I didn’t journal or blog at all throughout the year. However – no longer. Stay posted, and thank you all again. I have posted pictures on facebook if you are at all interested – and I have a whole new set that I will be posting soon of the last few months. Take care of yourselves and stay happy and healthy! xoxo Nia
