tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80392372526353663812024-03-18T20:24:39.587-07:00Nia in the 'biqueNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-11976542035398922852009-07-07T01:27:00.000-07:002009-07-07T05:05:12.023-07:00Mural on school corruption<div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dyKAc5xSZRIWXVtb_yXUAGlkQLuH1JEsYOWwXx35O8ziRJ9fVJG4JSX2uS1MJK-FFIgP_sF_ngH4mTUQUAlIRXxhHTMVYrVN3iqxXWiFTrHhjIauTeZTmDNtS8k5kUZdVdEG137QiYAI/s1600-h/P2040105.JPG"></a>Hello everyone! Not to take up much of your time, but wanted to show you the great work my kids (JOMA community art group of Monapo) did this past week. We painted a mural in the school library about corruption in schools ... enjoy!<br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUNecCHV1LzkcxINJdR7_ByChF97qTp2QrbHVzian-OVeT_E2JIQhyphenhyphenRDmhWk2X6Z7Oza9YLqcs4yjjqXxzcntTpI92y-IBl3HfEMLk8U80Uk1K0s3itBb0ZOCi9QZdSIYXcoamrhIWL7W/s1600-h/P1210080.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355675346137384322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUNecCHV1LzkcxINJdR7_ByChF97qTp2QrbHVzian-OVeT_E2JIQhyphenhyphenRDmhWk2X6Z7Oza9YLqcs4yjjqXxzcntTpI92y-IBl3HfEMLk8U80Uk1K0s3itBb0ZOCi9QZdSIYXcoamrhIWL7W/s320/P1210080.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here, we're just getting started. Strike a pose Assane (aka 20 cents)<br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355676831262326866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKL5XGYKnzpJ8GmHMi2BQbHoT0vcUpZywG_hkwLVO-tz5Y8vRuP43Qf0wG_ej3ZNTtdKwNr3eVMxKqG1kC-9qB5EQbchuaM6wvbC2NGgARBkOiM4cAL2O-PIKY7Q7iv-oc-cUS3tUTDde/s320/P1250082.JPG" border="0" /> Work in progress - me and the boys<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibO5veRHJy-hMtflGrkhOKGtj9gPH9tim4rNM3wWRO4c1aJIRDi9a3cJyBdzxRDXIsmLBzTshyu68OcXhLnygRYxDnyaXcPtRmnwXzE6WK4x55wVbwLvTpQn9I1OpIRASTMuzszv-27c-l/s1600-h/P2040088.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355671342252493442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibO5veRHJy-hMtflGrkhOKGtj9gPH9tim4rNM3wWRO4c1aJIRDi9a3cJyBdzxRDXIsmLBzTshyu68OcXhLnygRYxDnyaXcPtRmnwXzE6WK4x55wVbwLvTpQn9I1OpIRASTMuzszv-27c-l/s320/P2040088.JPG" border="0" /></a>Finshed product! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355673710876473746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_tsDNInkddiH6335NR9Jo2Uj1Y0WuR6XtuB8AI6pkqZGuBtaGiP5KYbdRXKNvaX7vMMzzfPKLuHx3HEHtYB5SywWvafxcssOVtd8lR75b3RFSZKDt1nTt1MTZExcMHNpY7Z6wTvmdKDj/s320/P2040089.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>The title: "Faca a matematica" meaning "Do the math"<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPbhhJnbUAZcSnM4lvjJYNuQAA1OgYdTOoyVRMpMKl1z6CQAt_SITBCgPt-F-W4VKu1mo2_d45wakKyA5qNBrjTIp_20nj3zvvKt6bBNcY4RYGpL7zEaFMRbVHvPeLq3ID8wJ3M_noOG5/s1600-h/P2040109.JPG"></a></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355646853376562674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ujvZktbKcOP3M2iTH92-Fz4P5FtMZW3UZbjhjHXgp3oiGiwbf2zoHRY6326lLgbiqbvmgVD_2_e459feXCLYGlY_TWddg9p3Rbn6B4bLtwBt5X2fYH-XremNIx8h_gw_YJP20k7XsbVx/s320/P2040094.JPG" border="0" />Problem #1: Here is a teacher that drinks before teaching (a sad common reality) ... he's shown as a 2m bottle (the beer here in Moz) in a bata (the jacket teachers wear teaching here)<br /><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355656974396867954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Avb1tRligAryN5lcdWig-OnCNxKIJ4bE0ezIZtAMEqZUNww3kt8mz4CplxYs5voztiJEYdhHQlQiN2yUfN1VvN0sP7Oq0h7KM1L1ceb1RuWu4X9TMidO4O8Lvk_DkNsN03kI-3FLWZ3m/s320/P2040101.JPG" border="0" /> that plus this scene: A student paying his teacher to get good grades (another sad reality). He's shown as 100 metecais, the money here in Moz. Also, the girl student in the corner saying that the teacher will help her with her grades also-signifying sexual realtions with the teacher(another sad reality) </div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355658436878227986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEjYTgZRCs_C3SfbWt4Wgp3D22tRT1FzNQCAIL9TSek830rkwgRplodn1W9hHfSeD900AiOY3plcawnZbg-3ZyrkfBbCW_9Cr5LnL-q884jfckZ878oxf2uhT0XxKREg0d10_rtrFG5fF/s320/P2040102.JPG" border="0" /> equals: Mozambique spirling out of control. Students graduate with empty minds, AIDS, no value in education, teachers teaching wrong information, etc...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355659906191150914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBSh-1uPNMq6i46q8IZTFau3yeQcSPpg8MrcJgmaqGvBR2XDnROY2ZL1TdR5C4LfwW31JJWT1bqGUFCfxl2JDaWObhdrhg50uI5jzctE11iAoRgyGLVwn-DBrYw-c6YLvAwCT9ExC8gIt/s320/P2040093.JPG" border="0" />and here's the second scenario: A student trying to give the teacher money to raise his grades. The teacher is denying the money and telling the student the only way to get good grades is to study </div><div><br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355661950729053634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mR8LlkXDIHmZzemHBcjKxvwJtTmOdNCdPb8BqoW6mo9kJcsOESSfppHTyqxuFVKLf9Id-6JJ-flgqkx9tp3b4IjfQwXVMgt55jtSOfab4rt25KWMmbdJeGlPFkH9S5ZoK_a8UxmS5OFb/s320/P2040097.JPG" border="0" />Plus: a good teacher teaching students well<br /><br /></div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpc6_KB49F1hHEqYI6RbJZ6cfdd6k3KegCC5L9zFZ7cDOm42V8hIt9PNF1QBa_e2Q2dDZxPRCHnwU9jlEtLsjkrGX-Tjnb9x-f_-4XgNhI9snQzHNipRxFmnY9Hx4JZbAfP7HRUyfZi1UR/s1600-h/P2040099.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355663859467450466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpc6_KB49F1hHEqYI6RbJZ6cfdd6k3KegCC5L9zFZ7cDOm42V8hIt9PNF1QBa_e2Q2dDZxPRCHnwU9jlEtLsjkrGX-Tjnb9x-f_-4XgNhI9snQzHNipRxFmnY9Hx4JZbAfP7HRUyfZi1UR/s320/P2040099.JPG" border="0" /></a> equals: A developed Mozambique that's dominated the HIV/AIDS epidemic, has motivated, smart students with dreams, and free of illness and corruption. The sunny future.</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355681544043025202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_uxNLsIDulsgxMtawvTom8QXIr-805cY8vC7t9g4gKMRI5uXqsng7OJ5Hgnf9qiMwxdKnsWilnv4Lv6l0NJ2bilMyczY2yYPp43CUCNXMXU2W3KQGj8D2JaNfhM4dgZsXBX3yJrEsveS/s320/P2040109.JPG" border="0" />and the amazing artists!<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355679981196276722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aU43C8w4OAJXOy553LEmnMr4e3SG9ELnZqKUKUaPBY03zAUA4cIJEmK4xJz28GU48Hox8QUiVL3DEPK31uJeRCpIRbJ4VYTFxYPuzl-roaTA_2lUWWxz1vAFd7wmje7UcU16r_S9Z4kQ/s320/P2040106.JPG" border="0" />Nelito and Aulate all smiles after all the hard work!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Hope you enjoyed! Love you all and stay posted for the next mural! beijinhos from across the world! -Nia</div></div></div>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-61672339898015383062009-03-09T05:07:00.001-07:002009-04-10T11:58:07.275-07:00Well hello! Here I am – starting off the new school year in a few days! During the 3 month intervalo, I was able to get some off the chains traveling in. It all started with my Dad and Jane visiting this great country. We got them right into the culture by showing them how to get water and carry it on your head….<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311159875808597858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLi6NGLtP5dGAeG82-0LQs3uBMbpS1JR7LImnxiAEG9m1Lq6mCyFypUecBftqCaTBEjVDRFLQFF5f9094uC28zVb07oWV2XfQprFluFu143an3MAROTkhtKa6kbiI0UBDfjW3nySwfLLM-/s320/PB230027.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div>….the bush…</div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311161844854535682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHK9xBhsYC_DyGkSS3Kb-0UuISQHu8_6U3K8TU8fINKI40rT4erIRJUVXe5bED4Vfgb0lC6IIbU4TJ3n_hnmBjHL4xsUiRqj7hAzdiByKuJ4aNDUjYf8tIP8LYzNDSoUddHJI58l_9jFJ/s320/PB240112.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323123957701801058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FmEKQ1-XCN6NNqJfRXsMuJj8y5KmmA19WAZOa8t2EtV1W8TLkyyGsD_ioYElSo6BQQ4v7YgVLwUz_ULExaGTvJmHeY-khmdFP7Re01i26y75ikGubxkug1dRw3MumWan4RaCgl2gfD5V/s320/PB240090.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323124767937841570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdRjCTCg7-GcwVIEIfazzaxZ_99vYnSbzggB6CIQMVV_umsA42UyeeqOhHMshwA_aIzs_ON6aZ9OfqU7VWlPNmCDBWdZbuSzHVjKk6p99h0xy6zDGOUrtSjW3U34pjCb-auevD9qqcTSr/s320/PB240144.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323126201934051282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3f_qpFqpAVUeKHYWHhuCrT_aOA8qjC8NINbt3Y2qLbEDy4Oq5CLFxSBh0ueYx9HT4BVVMbjueMM6_n2OTboueEzs9v7q9yeYNjSU0oC56FB_dETVk3ZEFC0oMBnQmQTBewNYm-p0GDbb/s320/PB240102.JPG" border="0" /><br /></div>…local wine<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311163778960099330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRNAnHxGhRG29XDiwHlOSJdmJgkAtfOmVlaSXkIPyfhiRY3d9xN0tyQiH_qEBbwvoiZ1ZwAzKWTka36xVXNlovtQcrhGoPZ2Jfm07YL5eudD_zd986TG9F-dvSWs2zPX0FC_6spWeGROx/s320/PB240092.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>….local food and its' preperation…<br /><br /></p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311166763105726706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9SPNEBrSG1mauZaZoK7cvympSD9h2xpYMDJf3flRL0ZfAaDrPK4VhReTuMDMrZFrJKBzDBrgZolbL2gtVeVq5M65qWDMRd5s4N5i-AtnkyUiQhZQO_jQilxcQkLE7rMPsaCekl8uY626/s320/PB240141.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>...Cashew making with some of my students...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323122505068445682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGDWxGjX_UDKACG0f5xRblK2OdOUksBCgsyrcm7DWlpJAymvKA9aTmoX8QSmcGwkS2Oa45ok1wqIZsRe9wGGoigGTOLfqWQrSzCYL1ZEh0p12xkmnDP-2_BMQS9qSFutV2vu2TNqc_TFW/s320/PB230056.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323123182464872546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdh4Hpm8fe_CrbZoy-LlQfonA3kAJh6FhFy1IKF9VbY0QNQViQ2afOjksOFdXSPCdbQ1EtmZKY8J3Y1E3O5Pgr1NXDodnZMYShcJAxM4qAYSPoK5ZfW5PpSuARsgpp4QKiQbSD8SYdNUIg/s320/PB230079.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />…transportation (15 hour 3rd class train in a third world country in 3rd degree burn heat-I’m not convinced those smiles are genuine)</div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311170620377837298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1O-c2_Z7nzsIf6MmuA5UsdiKyJADdPMSZO2O-EZzUfZRgtIt45dmpdlOnMmiq28GO-8-8tzf3PEcr7BEAiHIkZf9Nid2l0UjEEBR5QVygykiIp1tKKo0OGYXnF19eQoH3Mrxvbl4dSbN/s320/PB290157.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div><br /><br /><p>then the next day a 6 hour open back chapa ride in the hot sun after the driver was running from the police…</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311172581802153810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQlWAjyp9UxDUf9vJvoPX3TS9iwGiya88bP0hzJSWr7A0bvbgnUFZdMIJ26U8wC8YyqwlJ9ABGHnexpCcwo8Lxt3Cb0Levbou35qiJSV2cNFxFE4H-HcpfzKkqY6c6QoGMvGdV7oFSXsJ/s320/PB300165.JPG" border="0" /><br />later that day, we took a private ride to end the day with a smooth ride without any problems – so we ended up broken down with a flat tire in the middle of the bush with 100 village children all around us. Needless to say- we spent the night in a REALLY nice hotel that night.<br /><br />and got to see some pacaderms and lots of really cool animals…<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311176449439393826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gPOI-dcbXx46NT67w4Q9FjcKlpwXXH42-MEfbBHOYjrk8ZxzlVE10gsOrzeCfX6XkyAScrw_Gi8FTTL_hHtR_V6FRiXh0LPpVADd32LwBUulpD_u1Bc6uOoH8ymVxegv4FWhuW2hQ6F0/s320/IMG_4720.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We finished our trip by hiking Mt. Mulanje (the third highest mountain in Africa). And I only say that because it makes me sound really cool and it sounds more impressive than it actually is. That doesn’t take away from how absolutely beautiful the hike was and how great the trip turned out however.<br /><br />I’m so glad they made the trip. Jamie, Alex and I had an amazing time with them. Thank you both for coming and seeing how I live my day to day life. I miss you already…really.<br /><br />So after we got hooked up with new headlamps, pocket knives, smelly old shoes from my Dad, we had a tearful goodbye at the airport – then me and Jamie were off, ready to rage southern Africa with nothing but a tent, some packs, and titanic cards at hand.<br /><br />In Blantyre, Malawi … first night in the new home<br /></p></div></div></div><p><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311178828792695618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB64WBhJZj85jVrg5OEzquM_eu9_EhwigxYUi3Ya0PiFPwsaeE3UuNYylS4LmVAiZUP5TXRvTjzJI7RvJadUbhgV72KLfe-xt8dFyw3g6wRkEumzMZ9ufPeeYzavHSCduP9ZQ5Qd99xbdP/s320/PC080004.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><p>Then, we finally made it back to the ‘bique and started traveling down the beautiful country in all sorts of modes of transportation – like a 17 hour ride in the back of a semi to chimoio…<br /><br /><br />While there, we saw the sights and somebody got a haircut –<br />“I want what you have” –James W. Mangan to the pimp barber<br /></p><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311182538052459666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-k_S3I-lIhgQiXU0STBdVp3mahoMBzBrlGNeLF0oZHdVtk12uXT7gfyjL02u9Mzv1ir5csZFyLEZ9Z1shhiKkp3pyEpBaEu2ChQR_A7lc4NbjQ_28GdHX9BWsKLaqE_J8mRT8pRPaVGm/s320/PC100030.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323128287652057250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgthL13qavPuiG5FegUfyt0NDGPfPP8r0qV2aUuJBrSnTk04EARFJU7Yiq9b_8ovCgeWMCuO6FpYkt8IfV-cFFa1ZSi_gfDIXORQEAPSIUZ6z90qSVIpSJYs-c841QpE0b3InoVAP-ev0/s320/PC100031.JPG" border="0" /><br />Then we made our way across to the shore in Beira, the second largest city in Mozambique. We got to see a movie in a movie theater for the first time in 15 months (Tropical Thunder has a permanent place in our hearts), we also caught a raging hormonal middle school talent show, and the best market food we’ve ever had for the equivalent of $1…<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323128979286683058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCVwiyYOFkbDfEWzzlYUZwcTyjsGEvlgRoJhpwusuuWT6wcPHrZPADeELv2knjk105dUOFroZiQHW_Gdul_G0RHd5Nuztv8HXcbiMheU2n-OqDrsanPEX22eArnMObKGTmygYnvYMyWpz2/s320/PC130101.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Then we were off to the beach to a place called Savanne … also known as paradise…<br /></p></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311185333958704882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPedpQ8-BUmXZtriJ6KUd1TodHZVzYM4wgwJER8PpkmaGWg9_8goF8a_iinmJQAJDPDyTiqfP76FIrvw-tYPhr7qxqBxMy65tr16kGdMziv8vqV-X619WHGlQOTwNKecL9cfrXx_HcpTLK/s320/PC110053.JPG" border="0" /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311187410616751746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbQsjo_jNNwfdn0t8bgLH1l1LSRO8nC4uWaKwUtmrz1KHmF1wskU_oTjIVCEL9CM42-EjtbdzmcZjJq2PzmhnQbFpSnpe0kTSBb8UMI_Yq_MOjo5GM9ptHZuv6oF_3kzS_Q6fMT6kFKr2/s320/PC110055.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323130046935340674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4aLbQd7zMmA9EFqewR_G_zs9CdjJF3rpmUbqRk1NQiJcalR6Usj3uMEXIJblLsBF6AAw8LFVVIUTBamrVAkbxdtozDbzOyRq3nkO-yQXgYoqBOlcMmwlz3yvmPF7TDkL5XMVxSJ9UwE7/s320/PC120087.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>Canned beans with a make-shift coconut shell spoon – story of our lives…</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311189899802233586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzcW3uTWV9WyYk9zVmYzEnnlSYbb8QQ_uNZsarPgQhNEr8kCKftzss8OPEjhz_eKx_ckdU91YBXp2UoB-TiZbto39efG4W9JLVF2TEhj4mR_dMRLHGJf0NXL_JSidhhM9yi0dDBdq3W5f/s320/PC110059.JPG" border="0" />middle of nowhere but heaven on earth….<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311191496971592098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUKD57WB9AIsm692hO5Y7cfvziWXOJYW2BJ5Fm0NxZmWH-wum_UauTo9xQ2aZWI-kFapn-sh42e2JYPUbsyj7sUy3EslvgEJl5tDQui2hL0vBE1ikFzYOp5ep8NvVEa_BtgwUGYXsOXUD6/s320/PC120092.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Of course, the transportation back is a little taste of reality (I showed some knee and got a spot upfront)</div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311201115105668770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQxNWVdQ2ywRiBxU3Xm7JcKokJsaXnleb8EIj0nzV7VAeYoL9Z9z2DZLa0EhV__nYEj8xUue_zVbDjUZOKiRL4QxqC_IxOnX-gXo5ZPDrophYOIn-T8Pg63lyBAsgI07ZbC3Ox761wFcJ/s320/PC130099.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><p>We finally made it to the capital city Maputo in the southern most province, bused it over to Jo’burg, then spent a rousing 12 hours in the airport awaiting our arrival in Cape Town South Africa<br /><br />And we made it … and holy culture shock! Cafés, nice roads, clean bathrooms, sitting toilets (with toilet paper), no malaria, cheese, boutiques, fast food, variety, art, cake, ethnic foods, ice cream(!!!!), organization, high speed internet …. this may not sound like much if your in the land of milk and honey – but it brought tears to my eyes. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323130800008212082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudbhUi6Jb6bq9FY1qQzOAo8tz9wc7AcXc_Y4msoAQr6TJMmYlUeBhfdsZ1ANenZd50DPUsHLKw5QA3uU7BGW68EuHmn98fRGxfAlfYIfi1FBjPA0LcD6Nchmf691GcIRDo-u_rW-kiykl/s320/PC230007.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p><br /><br />Cape Town is absolutely amazing, and has so much to do. We hiked Table Mountain<br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323097821825345490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnrNPQLjgfWrkxknG2zXSBLkIRQc7n12aYwb1Qdq_IW_Lz7zFNzFPThJT2ZpGwMX4ybdnwJX_0teXiZ1tpaoCMtCW5uHnmtEd4ZDXXATFbFvL4hV7XtLRr4V8UFtFNpWCK7IIjUN8du1yO/s320/PC230024.JPG" border="0" /> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323100057566901554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYtppW6VfB3inVS0JTu-gYDc0ok9__vbWUbc0Pw9_dx-t5tamhgdSKOwrp3SFBJiyl2nXvZ1k4DgSio4qU7gNfh_LB0epLL8ZLt2eGwm2nJQj0j9ZNrelApbfaPeCpQNzFfg_ufFeAQAZ/s320/PC230019.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Saw Penguins at Bolder Beach<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323101697932802514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHOkYV5C4XOQ8S0nScPSKBXVlJE6elmuW8H5MvS_2Sr9A_776iEqgE_JdVV7CE8wMK30yn3gIMIb6W1ul4n1FsUMbt9fLA5sSioZo0p4pe6RCdN2vSt-pMQeppaHUia9tIkDznqjzTCGN/s320/PC250076.JPG" border="0" /><br />Visited the Cape of Good Hope<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323103744463897730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCD5-d4hpKkpeNL7wf3HaUhLKICFuwleFUzYzoi0P7H8V9EVuVjG9nXQMWtJGtvpw1V0hw56_mFNpVH-qxWAx7SAzN7SMVlcaa2q2G4wurAqJ_Aic4EwoqRrR5NhtpbO7R9Cgc9hs08FX/s320/IMG_4824.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323131774027992306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzN1ZLliqu8Kvv2sTsjko9yrrqOxsC-QOqD8le9ALg5yEZQ_GkqxaLDdPovnc20RoSopR6LNyQhNcfm4Z81fyvI_srEIcqhal4QUfUztyd4hInxUyXoM5kbiuEpruXQ753h0uIK3NhpXCs/s320/PC250090.JPG" border="0" /><br />Spent Christmas with some Namibia volunteers we met. A traditional Christmas dinner of fajitas, nachos, and ice cream<br /><br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323105262578872146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA38YEW67E5cdKP1xFea30k0qxC4xsyieREkilnOPgWjSj8CQ6qTWySIfHzVPRY44GFHezCyaMvt_j26AuPZ3x-JMDkjNv7_IJaEJ0aU2dVxiUDJqSSCplubK51a9zopJp6v4F9u8PI_Zs/s320/PC250058.JPG" border="0" /><br />Scared before we went cage diving with great white sharks<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323106791423293458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_WbR0s8mYYbB-hUtr9_TLefEz08D4DQpUET3_qn2-JfDk7xLP9EuE2DCZg8fAI0MnwoH-Eik__2xVA-uBoS_m6VHT8bC6-0FlT8l-8Sv_jWLTGsG2-Md2NNOSBiWYtE1szgKoS5U8M3A/s320/PC260101.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Disappointed after we drove 2 hours then the captain telling us that the weather was too bad to go out<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323107469970479298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXW__qYaxfFpeCbxVUhboRWyNFfVbFdZejhdB2-MyibDepz4Bit8AQGMzwh-Y1EeTXdTmxMpVvUq7R4weNZCX7257cebhlw3_lC5nACWqP7IjW1h5TL9Hf0_Y3hqY_Hz5v7y1hoaYIZAk-/s320/PC260104.JPG" border="0" /><br />So we got Margaritas instead (may not sound that interesting - but it was a definte highlight)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323108455494860322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQ8_tOUhKUrxSpOB1krBAreEhDpSyI8_eZMDBbA22k-rLiGI8Trz6qzrY8Xw0WjZDyRb71f8TwzLwaE1yBR8Y-dT0CfhUXyp4V8S5KeKtL1sNaVETu1pasxjkmR2QP1NH27NRTvPt0651/s320/PC270115.JPG" border="0" /> </div><br /><br /><div>Then we were off to Coffee Bay, a beautiful beach community. Turquoise water, green rolling hills and great company made it a great spot to spend New Years. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323109561077025522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFH-z3dYXrdn52y0phrgKZ0N1cGb8RZLTK0UzP301jRc68BkmsDzR2rpbBDSW8UEok9MLmX6b9b4rJg93S4w0A4EGfm2WeAKLWdwvv-fA5ErY5Ok6RKcmFAA5vVdmqW7rKqgeBbVhq1E7/s320/PC290127.JPG" border="0" /><br />We got a hike in as well to ‘Hole in the Wall’<br /></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323110682308364242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEoEC6IbPH9l6wGV12n5ZSdcNehTIHaR6J1_nz-XwBPsKVvwj23NX7YSEc1TOn6udzKQDzqKCntYOdAkXnICfsEXkTZ3bMehFC79kSWlqfZglxpaHYBuE3H6MmcvBeQ6gmgfiFTZUCGcT/s320/PC290131.JPG" border="0" /> </div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323111938622454002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMEZ9lb3I4TnbNuT7lVZFqRcO4e4pL3_iRPo7-AGxBbs8GmOoPBmeepG98jGH22zIGcXAq3SFc58lpl2DyOnHpPL1UymTFHEeIOKV_n7Nio5KXqgMmersdJ6b4vy07zvxIPMFt5NmOOuq/s320/PC290161.JPG" border="0" /><br />Jamie on the beach with some fat cows<br /><br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323112973948720930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuPSYqYucgxYLCqjmk2tsTa3ZR7sYLPpnr3KTMjXsWHcocmSYi-rEXwoBQeEb4Rc67vfaL5pSgn70DBJ8iDjT6Yq1owlAMwnlZcPgENPzNLoH_oSLg56VQ1OABRIaiI105sXqLe-7-CYj/s320/PC290151.JPG" border="0" /><br />We continued up to hlungwe, a game park, where we saw elephants<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323114158375341154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPhdE8EoqlJYVeagvpIFx_XK-EMgs-CoNeeBHsdQ9tt_y6RzqZAhDcAsD05IYexChlEgsOIF53Gwyv3AR3rTFatAG7V7yVmnICHDBqd2JwGm564QhHnw4D79Ifftg1iqEHOrYgv4Vr_a2/s320/P1030015.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />giraffes<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323115886312831458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7ll_1yDpf_Yw1NjYNRn_QEfSaDOS3GAUUHBbrYY69xDA2-wdh9MDLysdUYdrI9GmNtTlENk-mfeSZ-REw1EndiorzJS2HiwYGPriADn7el43BeRsrJ3o7O_neLMtjE22IdporcSPTO-Y/s320/P1030191.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Zebras<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323117801250325138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQq9U5QqCufBxqSzZoscXRG9v4kLJicpnMdyN5YJIkNuSwIwc9gjkkO508AAoAcUQ3r6SFHH1ta85G_MegCzj7bTThXeDbJCWeFLmIMtaxyWTJecanhg0GsHPwiGwEUCSTQl5eb5NMSpOp/s320/P1030172.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Then we ended our trip by whitewater rafting in Swaziland. It was great that Jamie assumed that when you’re going down rapids, you let go of the medal paddle. The concussion was well worth the ride though<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323118870307637362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDvKZLxMcswEmMsBTQvEVwYKNGwMc9Xm7Ny4i9suX8JgjCWfYG9j2n5C183xSbcSqmagguwcYOKFW1GGG39t36ll5hSTLU8O73N73JkNsg5U4OS67R51ZCwScK6TC06PJ6_DlKekZPUMi/s320/P1050234.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />So after our 2 month back packing excursion, I must admit, I was a little nervous to come back to Mozambique. After experiencing reliable, comfortable transportation, great food, sidewalk cafes, movie theaters, hot showers, sitting toilets, toilet paper, no chance of getting malaria, free of the emergency runs to latrines and all those luxuries; it was hard to face reality that I had to go back to site. And when I did, reality slapped me right across the face. In late January, despite the fact that it is the time of the rains, I had no water and was unable to get any – not to drink, to wash dishes, do laundry, or even take a bucket bath. I will never take water for granted again. Also, during this time of no water, it means no food as well ...‘tempo de fome’ is what they call it (time of hunger). At my market, I could buy baby onions, dried fish, and maybe, if I was lucky, a few little tomatoes teetering on the brink of spoiled. I also broke out in a full body rash, which isn’t uncommon for me here, but definitely added insult to injury. So, I guess you could say I had a little bit of a hard time getting back and getting readjusted - but in the end, it is good to be back, doing what I came here to do.<br /><br />Since then, school has started. It’s so nice to be back in the classroom again. I really really enjoy teaching here. I was a 9th grade teacher last year, and since I got so attached to my students, I decided to follow them and teach 10th grade. It was the best decision, and I’m so happy to be with them again. Of course, the numbers of students who study decrease as the years go on. About 90 of my students last year are not this year due to failing, inability to pay for matriculation, and most common is the girls becoming pregnant and ending their studies altogether. Tenth grade will be the last year for a lot of my girls. Statistically, they are way past due on starting families.<br /><br />I’m continuing my art group that I had last year, which is going well. Right now, we’re planning a mural on HIV that will be painted in the new library that will hopefully be built at our school. I'm also working with this group on the national level and helping plan a conference with other PCV's. I’ve also started an English group for my smarter students who are really motivated to learn. They are writing letters right now to students of both my best friend and teacher extraordinairre, Taylor Kanzler, in Hawaii, and also one of my old teachers from middle school, Mr. Moore. They wrote letters about themselves, there day to day lives, troubles and sickness, and their culture. It will be very beneficial for both groups to learn about another culture and everyone, including me, is really really excited about it. The grant that I wrote to reconstruct a sports pavilion in my town unfortunately got rejected. It really bummed me out and kind of took a lot out of me – all that work for nothing. I think I’m going to try to re-do it, and get it done. I really don’t want to leave here with regrets, or feel like I could have done more in my 2 years than I had done. I also don’t want to spread myself too thin either, so we’ll see.<br /><br /><p>So, I suppose that's all for now. I miss you all dearly and despite my anxiety attacks and nightmares i'm having about the fact that I'll be back in the States by the end of the year, I am excited to see you all. Never worry about me being here. I'm having the time of my life, and appreciate every second - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Take care of yourselves, stay happy and healthy, and shower yourselves with family and friends. You are all always in my heart and I can't thank you enough for your constant support.</p><p>beijinhos across the world,<br /></p><p>Nia</p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-68792079508999119742008-10-30T06:00:00.000-07:002008-11-04T21:32:13.798-08:00Has a year really gone by??<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgst1m7IFM-3Ni5sQIOWsDVxdn4R4285rBU8JZaugb5NVlPzbkG7DCNV2Hc63ccfT6nkEhVAfDVPE4iJ_VQiLTWhJ9esMnK-uG5YyuPJqNQFoyXzMUr6kTo4BpvIWEtgkz727I6x0rvQ_sx/s1600-h/PA240027.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265031711467527106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgst1m7IFM-3Ni5sQIOWsDVxdn4R4285rBU8JZaugb5NVlPzbkG7DCNV2Hc63ccfT6nkEhVAfDVPE4iJ_VQiLTWhJ9esMnK-uG5YyuPJqNQFoyXzMUr6kTo4BpvIWEtgkz727I6x0rvQ_sx/s320/PA240027.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJN34FcWZ3T7XfGe2hiADLZgnVsnG6MTifTDsosETt7xCz9gUnagrY1TmdK9VLOIlM7yzpV4JYBLUqz-VamYLKCM37EYxQYBZftKK6TD8lSG2-gGPFqcAAjhxZtJx1NMvREcJ3-h-6pPkQ/s1600-h/PA130007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265019933400787170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJN34FcWZ3T7XfGe2hiADLZgnVsnG6MTifTDsosETt7xCz9gUnagrY1TmdK9VLOIlM7yzpV4JYBLUqz-VamYLKCM37EYxQYBZftKK6TD8lSG2-gGPFqcAAjhxZtJx1NMvREcJ3-h-6pPkQ/s320/PA130007.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>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.<br /><br />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. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />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. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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</div></div>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-25860236959395774712008-02-02T05:36:00.000-08:002008-02-06T01:30:34.226-08:00Back to life, Back to realityHello all!!! I hope this finds you all happy and healthy!<br /><br />Well holidays are over and school is starting soon. Back to life, back to reality! Although extremely untraditional, I had an amazing Christmas and entire holiday season for that matter. All the volunteers in the northern regions of Mozambique traveled hours to all come together in Angoche – a small fishing town on the coast. With water being scarce and the town only turning on the water for 4 hours every three days, it was quite the experience rationing for 13 people. Bathing was few and far between, we all ate out of the big pot that we cooked with because we couldn’t do dishes, and whenever it rained - even a little bit, we would put out buckets to collect the water. It was hard to grasp the fact that it was the holiday season considering it was in the high 80’s/low 90’s and we went swimming in the warm Indian Ocean everyday surrounded by white sand and palm trees – paradise. We did try to add some typical holiday traditions to get us in the spirit, so we made snowmen out of sand, fashioned stockings for each other out of capulanas (the traditional clothing that women wear here), and hung them over a paper fire place and exchanged secret Santa gifts on Christmas morning. We also attempted to make sugar cookies without an oven, using a pot on the burner – they came out magnificently! For New Years, there were four of us that stayed in Angoche. We went out to a bar in town that was celebrating the new year. We had made friends with the owner of this bar called Tuchers a few nights before. So we told people that our friend Jamie was a famous DJ in the States, so the owner asked him to DJ on New Years. He did the countdown and everything – it was hilarious. The next week walking around, all the Mozambicans would recognize him and yell, ‘DJ Jaime! Mexe Bem!’ So now, when me and my friend meet Mozambicans, we always ask them if they know DJ Jaime – the funny part is that their response is always yes.<br /><br />One of my favorite things to do in this country is joking around with the people. Mozambicans in general are the happiest people- they’re always up for a good laugh and just very easy going. My friend and I decided to go for a run when we were in Angoche one day. I have to say that is quite brave of us, because two white girls exercising makes for quite a spectacle. So we ran through the ‘matu’ – the bush. We were running through these dirt roads and paths in between mud and reed huts with little naked children running around and women in traditional garb cooking outside. Everyone was staring and laughing like we had 7 heads – thinking what the hell are these white chicks doing? So we start yelling, ‘Vamos!’ (let’s go!) and waving our hands. All of a sudden, these women drop what their doing and start running next to us with no shoes, their capulanas and head wraps. We were all laughing hysterically, and more and more started running with us. Definitely a top 7 moment in my life. Love this country.<br /><br />Also in Angoche, there are small islands right off the coast that are inhabited and it’s where fisherman go each day. The four of us decided to go to an island one day. We took a little chapa sail boat, where the sail looked like an old black garbage bag full of holes. It was crammed with people and we were sitting on bags of small dried fish, and there was a guy bailing out water the entire time. The boat trip took 3 hours total – maybe the best three hours of my life. We were having so much fun with everyone on the boat. There was a guy that – thanks to second hand clothing markets here – was wearing a snapped off hood to a jacket. My friend Jamie decided to switch his Sox hat for the hood, and then the guy took my big sunglasses and gave me his neon orange circa 1982 sunglasses. He looked pretty hip. We just had a blast with all of them, buying a round of mangos, rowing to help out, trying to teach them the song ‘row row row your boat’ – good times. Once we got to the island, it was absolutely gorgeous. White sand, turquoise water, palm trees, and nothing else in site. The first thing that we noticed was the rolling sand dunes … so like the little kids we are, we climbed them and just barrel rolled down them. All of a sudden, we see a clan of little kids come running from nowhere – Lord of the Flies style. They start doing crazy aerobics and back flips down the dunes. It was so crazy. We walked around the island, seeing fisherman with their big nets and old wooden boats. We walked through the small market they had. Next thing we knew, there was literally 50 men women and children following us and staring because they had never seen white people before. A woman gave us lanhas (baby coconuts before it’s dried out), and opened them for us with a machete. We sat under a palm tree and ate the fresh coconuts with the crowd around us – more fascinated in us then they would be watching the World Cup Finals.<br /><br />Every night at sunset, the four of us would go onto this old boat on the shore that has not been in use for years and now is inhabited by families. We would watch the most beautiful sunsets you could ever imagine over the ocean and help this man fish for food for his family – using an old small plastic bottle, a hook, and fishing line. It was a really cool thing to be a part of. So I really enjoyed my month long vacation spent in Angoche. It’s one of my favorite places I’ve ever been – sleeping outside on a straw bed with an ocean view and nice breeze. I think it’s a blessing in disguise that I wasn’t placed there – because if I was, I don’t think I would ever come home.<br /><br />So now holidays are over here and school has finally begun! I am more than excited to start! The stories will be endless, so stay posted!<br /><br />I have been asked by my lovely friends and family for pictures of what my life has been like for the last 4 months. I cannot provide you with my own personal photos due to technical glitches, but I am going to take the cheap and easy way out and direct you to my beautiful partner in crimes blog. I have spent every waking moment with her for the past month and a half, so just know that I´m right there next to her while these photos have been taken... alexkruzel.blogspot.com ... so I hope these will do for now - only to merely wet your palete. Enjoy, and maybe drop her a line to thank her for her great photography work!<br /><br />I love and miss you all, I hope you know that! I hope these blogs are keeping you updated enough. It's hard when each day is so eventful to put in words what my life is like. This blog really doesn't do justice. Just know that I'm living on cloud 9 and I couln't ask for anything more out of life right now! Never worry about me... stay happy healthy and safe and know that you all are always in my thoughts. Thanks for the constant support ... I have the best friends and family!<br /><br />love, biaNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-56389778678906433072008-01-02T01:22:00.000-08:002008-01-02T01:25:22.017-08:00My new home sweet homeSo here I am in beautiful Monapo in the Nampula province of Mozambique. Man, I’m loving it here! It’s ripe with potential, the people are so welcoming, and the sunsets are to die for. I’ve already made a few friends here, so they’re helping me out in the market so I don’t get the “stupid melungue (white person) price” – that’s a technical term. It’s kind of hard times here right now though. Water is hard to come by, and the only food in the market is fish, onions, and bread. Although I salivate at the thought of the bomb sandwich I can make and how excellent my breath would smell after- I’ve been having fat kid dreams of lasagna, pizza, and nachos …. mmmmm! It’s really fine though. They have the most incredible mangos here that I excessively over eat – which isn’t good because I seem to have an allergic reaction every time where my lips swell up like Angelina Jolie’s. I can’t stop though, it’s an addiction, and besides, that look is so in right now. <br /><br /><br />It is nice to be in a place where the clock doesn’t rule people’s lives … which is how I like to live my life. Organization is usually out of the question too. The other day, I had to go to the closest city 2 hours away to get a fan, because it is so incredibly hot, and sleep was hard to come by when I was trying to do so in a pool of my own sweat. So on the way back, we caught a Chapa – the popular mode of transportation I talked about before. So picture this: It’s a hundred degrees, the chapa is well over capacity like always, I have one standing fan and one regular fan on my lap, I’m drenched in sweat, I smell, my lips are swollen and I started developing a rash on my face and arms from the mangos, and I’m smooshed in between one dude on my left who has 4 squawking chickens that I would by accidentally hit with my fan, and a dude to my right who was proposing marriage to me and trying to impress me with his elementary broken engligh- “I like too much to speak English!”. Despite the fact that my left butt cheek was asleep and deodorant isn’t a popular product here for people (even on the hottest days), I had a moment of loving my life. Where else would that happen?! It’s great. <br /><br /><br />The kids here are my favorite, though. There is one that sits outside of my house on the cashew tree at the same time of day, everyday, and calls my name until I go out and talk to him. As soon as I go out and start talking to him- kids start to seep out from every nook, cranny, crack, and crevice of town until I’m completely surrounded. Recently, they have been trying to teach me the local language of Nampula - Emakhuwa. It’s really difficult because the sounds that I have to make are so foreign and it just seems impossible. I do know about three phrases now though:<br /><br />Miyo Kookhala – I am fine.<br />Nsina nanyu tani? – What is your name?<br />Mpakha nihiku nikina- See you later<br /><br />I hope to learn more because it’s important for integration into the community. A lot of people don’t speak Portuguese yet because they don’t learn it until they go to school, and there are a lot who don’t ever go. But I would like to master Portuguese first though. I think I’ll be a better assistance to the community if I can speak more fluently. There is a girls group that I’ve been thinking about starting in my town. It would definitely be more beneficial if I can communicate well with the girls. I also have been getting really interested in AIDS awareness. Where I was living before, 25% of the population was living HIV positive, and that’s where my interest started. When I would go to church with my family, it would hit me that one out of every four people around me was HIV positive. Unbelievable. Where I’m living now, it’s about a 10% rate, which is lower, but still 10% too high. It doesn’t help that this is a polygamist culture here as well. The majority of men have more than one wife and one family, as well as‘pitas’ on the side- and condoms aren’t usually their first thought. That has been a really difficult concept to wrap my hands around and accept. Although it’s their culture and we are not here to change them, it’s a hard line to walk knowing that this aspect of their culture is causative to the spread of AIDS. <br /><br />It’s a constant learning and accepting process here. Even thus far, this has been the greatest learning experience for me. I’m constantly challenged, and I’m finding more and more about myself and the world. It’s incredible, because I haven’t even started my work yet … so I can already tell there is a lot in store. I’m so grateful for this opportunity and even though times get hard – I admit, harder than I ever expected – I realize that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, the reasons I am here aren’t all for me, and I’m lucky to be doing this and working with such great people. <br /><br /><br />Christmas is coming up soon. All the Peace Corps volunteers in the northern regions are going to Angoche to spend Christmas together on the beach. It’s not your traditional white Christmas, but I’ll settle for a white sand Christmas. We’ll probably ring in the New Year on an island just off the coast. I’ll be thinking of you all- like I always do. I hope you have happy and safe holidays and you enjoy the company of friends and family. All my love in the world XOXO NiaNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-6998326280661611992007-12-11T06:19:00.000-08:002007-12-11T06:55:21.850-08:00Hold on tight...time is flying!So training is over-man, time flies. I must say it's a bittersweet time, though. I am so excited to go out on my own and do what I came here to do. What totally bums me out is that my training group is splitting up and moving to all different parts of Moçambique-and I must say that they are some top notch, kick ass people. The next time we will all be together is next year at the mid-service conference.<br /><br />But now it's time to leave Namaacha and my host family. Homestay was one of the more interesting experiances of my life. Although frustrating at times, it is an experiance that I wouldn't trade for the world. I feel like I went through the stages of life again in the last two months. When I first arrived, I was a baby. I couldn't speak the language so I didn't talk, maybe I would mumble something every once in a while but it was mostly grunts and hand signals to express what I wanted. I was experiancing everything for the first time like a baby, and I was also waited on hand and foot because I was so incompitant. I also should have worn diapers like a baby ... think hard why, but if you've ever been in a third world country before...you know. <br /><br />Then I moved on to the rebellious teenager phase. I started staying out later. I would tell my mom that I was going with friends to study portuguese, when in actuality, we would go to the bar for a drink. Before I would come home, I popped a piece of gum in my mouth to hide the beer breath - works like a charm. I'll never forget the first time I told my mom I had a beer. I arrived home one night when my mom and aunts were carrying water in buckets on their head for our weekly supply. My mom wanted to show me how and wanted me to help. Although what an incredible cultural experiance it would have been; visions of me carrying gallons of precious water on my head in the dark through treterous terrain after having a beer and just completly eating it were running through my head - so I clearly opted not to and 'negar-ed' that situation. I told her that I just drank a 2M (Dois Eme - the beer of Moçambique). All the women started laughing. "Nao pode tirar agua na sua cabeça porque tem 2m na sua cabeça!" Translation: You can't carry water on your head because you have 2m in your head! We were all laughing and it has been a running joke since. <br /><br />Now I'm getting sent off into the real world. I've learned how to light coal, wash my clothes in buckets, and of course, beat the sketchy ass men off with a stick. So I'm SO ready and SO excited to start my new life.<br /><br />These last two months have been filled with highs and lows. My highs have been when I felt like a part of my communityin Namaacha. It's the coolest feeling in the world when I walk down the street and hear, 'Mana Nia!' (my sister Nia), from kids and adults. My mom always told me that everyone in town knows me and asks how I am, because, let's face it, I'm a good time. Another high and thing that I absolutly love is dancing-which isn't much different than in the States. The difference is in the States I would be dancing with a bunch of white folks with no rythym (no offense ... yes you). Here, I'm surrounded by people who can pop, lock, and drop like you wouldn't believe. I've been served by my 4 year old host brother too many times - how shameful. But it is so incredibly fun and such a wonderful part of the culture that I have a blast doing it. <br /><br />As for lows-let's see. It was a low for me when I told my host family that I don't eat fish (judge all you want, but I really couldn't stomach eating a whole fish just chillin on my plate, eyeballs, fins and all). Then the next morning for breakfast, there was 2 fresh fish heads sitting on my plate ... JUST the heads. It's possible that that mishap was a small laps in communication-or let's hope. Another low would probably be the day I realized the pee bucket for my family is the same bucket I took showers with. I think tears might have been shed that day ... let's not talk about it. <br /><br />I have to say though, I feel like the luckiest person in the world. This country is amazing and I pinch myself sometimes when I realize that I'm actually doing this and experiancing these things. I do miss you all and I hope you are all happy and healthy and appreciating your accesibility to ice cream. I gotta run, I need to go to Starbucks and Walmart before my nail appointment! Tchau! xoxo bejosNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-22437274601733921092007-11-17T01:53:00.000-08:002007-11-18T05:11:54.561-08:00Getting in the grooveSo, the other day I walked out of my room at my home stay family's house and saw my little sister pants down peeing in a bucket in the middle of the house. I thought nothing of it and went on my way. It occured to me later that my shock value for things is slowly decreasing, so I decided to put some things down in writing that at one point were a little strange to me, but now it's becoming routine and ordinary. For example; going to the bathroom outside in a whole in the ground, using the same soap to wash the dishes, floor, clothes and body, second hand shirts that people wear here that are sent over from the states like the one that my friends 9 year old host brother always wears that says, "this bitch bites", being proposed to daily, riding in a chapa which can only be described as a 'Little Miss Sunshine' van that is falling apart at the seems and usually needs a good push start to get going, and the capacity is 15 people but somehow they shove 20-25 people (and sometimes chickens) in their at once for quite the luxurious ride, the over use of cooking oil, eating everything with your hands, and oh so much more.<br /><br /><br />I'm having a really good time at training, but it's not really a good depiction of how my life is going to be for the next two years. There are 40 of us Americans in this town so there is always people around to hang out with. We find out our site placements on Wednesday, and I´m getting really excited. This country is absolutly beautiful so I think I'll be really happy wherever I go. It is sort of bitter sweet though because I've made a lot of close friends here with the other volunteers and we are all splitting up come December. It's amazing how fast friendships are made when we're all in unfamiliar territory and we're all going through the same things. It's a really good group and everyone is young and fun and just all around good people. Everyone brings something different to the table. For example, I have this one friend who is the total opposite of me and extremly anal retentive. He's always overly cautious about germs and hygiene. So it was quite ironic when he came down with a bad case of scabies. He was the butt of all jokes for quite a while. It was the best when Moçambican men would come up to him and try to shake his hand like they often do. He would have to explain to everyone in broken Portugues that he has scabies and he couldn't touch them because he's contagious. I think they think that he just some strange white dude now... it still makes me laugh till I cry to think of it.<br /><br /><br />So Thanksgiving is coming up on Thursday and its the first time I'm away from home on my favoirite holiday, so it might be a rough one. All the trainees are getting together and making a big Thanksgiving meal, or something like that because we kind of have a lack of resources. I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving though and eat lots of turkey and stuffing and think of me!<br /><br />All my love xoxoNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8039237252635366381.post-77921353401883320402007-11-03T04:35:00.000-07:002007-11-03T05:54:01.562-07:00what a monthI'm living in Moçambique! Sometimes it hits me like a ton of bricks that I'm actually here and this is my life-it's a surreal and unexplainably cool feeling. I double-take here a lot . Partially because I am actually seeing and doing things that for so long were just images I saw on television or in newspapers. It's the little things like seeing women carry gallons of water or fruit on their heads, or every time I take a 'shower', which now consists of a bucket of water and a cup, or when I help my host mother cook dinner outside with pots and pans over hot coal.<br /><br />It's been one of the most adventurous and ridiculous months of my life, I must say. Before we arrived at our home stay families house, a previous volunteer told us that in this country, if you feel like your doing things that are just absolutly ridiculous, your probably doing it right. I have lived by those words, and oh man, she could have not been more right. Things happen and I just have to pause, think over what just took place, and then die of laughter inside. But this country is truly an amazing one, and everyone always tells us that we hit the Peace Corps jackpot because everone is so extremly nice and its just a clean slate because it's so undeveloped. They also say if you can do Peace Corps here, you can do it anywhere, so that kind of makes me feel like a bad ass. Haha!<br /><br /><br />The first time I did laundry here was quite a humbling experiance. My mom got out the buckets of water and I grabbed all my clothes. Then she asked me, in the States , who does my laundry. I told her I did. She said, no no no, who does your laundry? I told her again, I did. We did this back and forth a few times because I thought that she thought my parents or a maid did my laundry. She finally said, a MACHINE does your laundry! At that moment, I wish I knew the word for 'touche' in Portuguese, because ... damn. Now whenever we are doing something like cooking, doing dishes, or any given chore; they always ask me if we have machines for doing that in the States. I thought it was funny at first because I was thinking, wow, they think that we have machines for everything, huh. But then I realized every time they asked me that, I said yes, because my god we do!<br /><br />There's a few things here that have taken me a while to get used to, but I already feel like I've changed. The biggest one is the fact that I am so squimish and the only way you eat meat here is if you kill the animals yourself. I don't know how many chickens I have seen be brutally murdered here .... oh my how sad. First of all, the knives here are about as dull as a butter knife, and second of all they have no mercy when they kill the thing. So not to get graphic, but they just hold the thing down and saw away at the poor little squacking bird with a dull piece of metal. I cried the first time, clearly, but now I'm so used to it, it doesn't bother me as much anymore. I actually plucked the feathers off of a chicken after and I was quite proud of myself. The other day, though, I came home from training and a bunch of my brothers and cousins had just killed a pig. I felt like I was in a scene from 'Lord of the Flies'. They were all running around with their shirts off and blodd was just everywhere. Not gonna lie, I had to hold back my tears and and my vomit at the same time, which isn't easy.<br /><br />I'll think of good stories for the next post because there are some good ones. Here's one story, just so you can get the feel of it. My sister who is about 22 has a baby, and when I say baby, I mean a two year old that walks and talks. He still breast feeds, which is interesting in itself, but the other day a bunch of women were sitting around at my house. The baby got confused and thought my aunt was his mom, so he went and pulled down her shirt to breast feed. They all laughed because he was confused, but to my surprise, she let him give it a go anyway. Then the baby's mom pulled out her boob, so he went running to her. All of a sudden, all the women whipped out their boobs and the baby was running around from boob to boob. Awkward Nia just sat in my chair, face bright red, and just dumb struck and awkward. I guess you could say it was culture shock. But now I'm so used to seeing boobs all the time. It's funny because you absolutly cannot show your knees here because if you do, you are a permiscuous girl, but boobs are like elbows here. Last night, I knocked on my door to get in the house, and my mom answered the door with no shirt on. A month ago it would have phased me, but now I guess I would have been shocked if she answered the door with a shirt on.<br /><br />stay posted! miss you all! xoxoNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06990194631301323038noreply@blogger.com4