Sunday, January 24, 2016
Live'n in Moz: Training in Namaacha
Monday, January 11, 2016
Afr-IKEA
Since my site here in Chitima only had one previous volunteer before me and Drew’s arrival, and Drew got the spoils of the previous volunteer’s room over a intense 5 OT rock, paper, scissors game in Chimoio prior to our trip up here. My room was bare bones state. A cement room and floor with one dangling light bulb, only a bed and frame in it after my arrival. Although the green paint job it came with is quite nice and I find it a decent up grade from my room in Namaacha during training; not that I didn’t appreciate the what my host family provided me. That room had character ,with my host brother’s name carved into the wood of the bed frame/night stand combo or the only picture hanging when I arrived and throughout training, a calendar photo of mountains in east Oregon without the calendar dates. That picture was surprisingly comforting during some struggles in training. Plus the added sentimental value of my first personal space in Africa helped make it a place I won’t soon forget.
(First go at the bug net wasn't so great)
Though I was back to square 1 with my new quarters in Chitima, but with so much to explore about the town, neighbors to attempt to meet, and SO much more Portuguese to learn, the room and nesting projects kind of took a halt for a little while. I was content for the time being to live out of my retro blue leather suitcase I picked up at goodwill the night before leaving and the rest of my clothes laid out on cardboard and hanging all over any spot I had to keep em off the dusty floor.
Which lasted a good while until the apparent rainy season of Tete decided to just show up all of a sudden and make up for all the lost time. Water coming down in buckets, creating quite the moat around the front and back side of our house that put our first step of the porch under water. Mean while in my room water was being blown in sideways through both of my bedroom windows. The liters of water coming in were hitting my bug net and spraying all over my mattress from one window and the other flowing right into my row of clothes on cardboard, soaked. Switching into damage control mode I quickly grabbed two capulanas I had (Mozambican cloth used for everything, literally EVERYthang) and a handful of nails and started hammering those bad boys up as the best barrier available at the time. They didn’t stop all the water but enough to keep it from drenching my bed more. After that ordeal I needed to change some stuff up as living of the ground 24/7 wasn’t going to be cutting it anymore.
So you might ask, “Where do you go to get all and anything furniture wise you need for your house in Mozambique?” Well you could shell out a decent chuck of change at the local carpenter - though PC doesn’t pay that well to furnish my room with all custom made digs. You could buy some prefab stuff in the larger cities with superstores - but lugging all that back on a chappa (public transport, I’ll talk about these in another post later) would be damn near impossible and total pain. OR you could go to the awesome place I will refer to as AfrIKEA.
Let me explain, right outside my house about ¼ km away from the school the area becomes straight up mato (African bush land). With a saw and a decent idea and plan about what you are wanting for furniture you can pretty much find every thing you need. And in my mind it’s about the closest thing to IKEA that you’ll find in Chitima. You can even be choosey about what time of wood you want your stuff made from; rough wood, smooth wood, wood with a few thorns, and bamboo! After taking a walk down the dried up river bed and having my pick of litter with the local timber, hacking down a few solid and straight saplings and a bamboo tree I was set on lumber. A quick trip into town to the ‘Home Depot’ lojas picking up some nails and the hammer of Thor, all the materials I needed were in hand.
Now AfrIKEA doesn’t come with instructions, but be honest who reads those instructions you actually get anyway? I know I don’t, so just like an IKEA project in the States I jump right in, winging the whole thing. I’m thorough with my work though, measure twice and cut once, cross beams, side supports, and re-enforcing I know. Do it right and do it once, hopefully, is the motto. So after some blood (nicked myself splitting a branch), sweat (it’s Tete, I sweat when I take a leak), and tears (that hammer of Thor pounds nails and thumbs) I had fashioned myself a decent clothing rack and hanging area with room for my trunk underneath, able to keep all clothes dry during any rainy season storm. And since I was feeling sentimental and missing all you family, friends, and hooligans back there. I made a couple of picture holders out of bamboo for all those Kodak moments we’ve had together.
And although it ain’t the real IKEA and there are no Swedish meatballs, we still had delicious balls of food. We call em stuffed xima balls. Xima (very thick grits) stuffed with sautéed onions, peppers, black beans, and then fried with piri piri sauce on top. BOMB
Though I was back to square 1 with my new quarters in Chitima, but with so much to explore about the town, neighbors to attempt to meet, and SO much more Portuguese to learn, the room and nesting projects kind of took a halt for a little while. I was content for the time being to live out of my retro blue leather suitcase I picked up at goodwill the night before leaving and the rest of my clothes laid out on cardboard and hanging all over any spot I had to keep em off the dusty floor.
Which lasted a good while until the apparent rainy season of Tete decided to just show up all of a sudden and make up for all the lost time. Water coming down in buckets, creating quite the moat around the front and back side of our house that put our first step of the porch under water. Mean while in my room water was being blown in sideways through both of my bedroom windows. The liters of water coming in were hitting my bug net and spraying all over my mattress from one window and the other flowing right into my row of clothes on cardboard, soaked. Switching into damage control mode I quickly grabbed two capulanas I had (Mozambican cloth used for everything, literally EVERYthang) and a handful of nails and started hammering those bad boys up as the best barrier available at the time. They didn’t stop all the water but enough to keep it from drenching my bed more. After that ordeal I needed to change some stuff up as living of the ground 24/7 wasn’t going to be cutting it anymore.
So you might ask, “Where do you go to get all and anything furniture wise you need for your house in Mozambique?” Well you could shell out a decent chuck of change at the local carpenter - though PC doesn’t pay that well to furnish my room with all custom made digs. You could buy some prefab stuff in the larger cities with superstores - but lugging all that back on a chappa (public transport, I’ll talk about these in another post later) would be damn near impossible and total pain. OR you could go to the awesome place I will refer to as AfrIKEA.
Let me explain, right outside my house about ¼ km away from the school the area becomes straight up mato (African bush land). With a saw and a decent idea and plan about what you are wanting for furniture you can pretty much find every thing you need. And in my mind it’s about the closest thing to IKEA that you’ll find in Chitima. You can even be choosey about what time of wood you want your stuff made from; rough wood, smooth wood, wood with a few thorns, and bamboo! After taking a walk down the dried up river bed and having my pick of litter with the local timber, hacking down a few solid and straight saplings and a bamboo tree I was set on lumber. A quick trip into town to the ‘Home Depot’ lojas picking up some nails and the hammer of Thor, all the materials I needed were in hand.
Now AfrIKEA doesn’t come with instructions, but be honest who reads those instructions you actually get anyway? I know I don’t, so just like an IKEA project in the States I jump right in, winging the whole thing. I’m thorough with my work though, measure twice and cut once, cross beams, side supports, and re-enforcing I know. Do it right and do it once, hopefully, is the motto. So after some blood (nicked myself splitting a branch), sweat (it’s Tete, I sweat when I take a leak), and tears (that hammer of Thor pounds nails and thumbs) I had fashioned myself a decent clothing rack and hanging area with room for my trunk underneath, able to keep all clothes dry during any rainy season storm. And since I was feeling sentimental and missing all you family, friends, and hooligans back there. I made a couple of picture holders out of bamboo for all those Kodak moments we’ve had together.
And although it ain’t the real IKEA and there are no Swedish meatballs, we still had delicious balls of food. We call em stuffed xima balls. Xima (very thick grits) stuffed with sautéed onions, peppers, black beans, and then fried with piri piri sauce on top. BOMB
Monday, January 4, 2016
Beat Ya’ll into 2016
Since Tete City doesn’t have a ball drop at midnight to bring in the New Year and even if they did it probably wouldn’t drop until 12:30 because everything is kinda just always a little behind and there is a good chance the power would go out on the ball’s way down getting it stuck half way. Drew and I got an invite to go celebrate the New Year with a Zimbabwean ex-pat we met in Chitima a couple weeks back, Matt, while we were walking home from the market. Dude was quite as surprised to see us, a couple of Caucasian guys walking down the road with groceries, as we were to see him when he pulled up and asked what we were doing out here, and was floored to hear what we as Peace Corps volunteers were doing and for 2 years. He is a guy about our age, mid-20s, working as a commercial fisherman on Lake Cahorra Basa, about an 1hr from our house, fishing for Kapenta. Anyway he asked what we were doing and that if we hadn’t any plans there was a bash being thrown at this fishing lodge/ water front resort called Moringa Bay Lodge. After going through Capital for Christmas and both of us wanting to explore more of the area around our place and see the lake, we decided we’d shoot up there to ring in the New Year.
Getting to this lodge though was going to be the most interesting part of this holiday adventure though. We had a name of the lodge and he told us the nearest village was a place called Embokie. When we asked our friends and neighbors around Chitima about it we got a laugh from em and the usual simple Mozambiquen answer whenever we ask how far something is, “E la,” translating to, “it’s there(far/out of eyesight).” Big help I know. But locals recognized the name so we weren’t worried about making the trip, so we set a plan to spend most of New Years Eve. hitchhiking (boleia) our way there, in plans of eventually finding it by word of mouth. The place had a website in English and said they took campers, so we packed our hammocks and portable bug nets and a bottle of Red Label for the holiday night or just in case of emergencies.
The trick to catching a boleia is a lot of patience, a semi decent plan scripted in Portuguese, some mixed hand signals and improve Portuguese about location, and a bit of luck.
Getting to this lodge though was going to be the most interesting part of this holiday adventure though. We had a name of the lodge and he told us the nearest village was a place called Embokie. When we asked our friends and neighbors around Chitima about it we got a laugh from em and the usual simple Mozambiquen answer whenever we ask how far something is, “E la,” translating to, “it’s there(far/out of eyesight).” Big help I know. But locals recognized the name so we weren’t worried about making the trip, so we set a plan to spend most of New Years Eve. hitchhiking (boleia) our way there, in plans of eventually finding it by word of mouth. The place had a website in English and said they took campers, so we packed our hammocks and portable bug nets and a bottle of Red Label for the holiday night or just in case of emergencies.
The trick to catching a boleia is a lot of patience, a semi decent plan scripted in Portuguese, some mixed hand signals and improve Portuguese about location, and a bit of luck.
(Find some shade and wait it out.)
The actual hand signal for hitchhiking for all you isn’t actually the thumbs up. It’s a downward waving hand to start and then there are a bunch of other signals that can be exchanged between the driver and the hitchhiker to get each others jist of what we want and what they can do for us. After you flag their attention, you can throw a finger pointing high that means we are looking for a ride going far (la) or a downward pointing finger meaning you’re looking to go not that far. And the driver can respond with a fist smacking the palm or flashing lights or a wag of the finger, meaning full or they cant or it’s not happening. Or they can just stop on the side of the road and talk it out with you. There are also a bunch more hand signals we are still in the process of learning, still pretty novice at the whole art of hitchhiking.
(And then you get lucky)
Anyway we are success full in flagging down an open back truck, after 1 & ½ hrs of failed boleias and cars that aren’t going that far, that is going that way and agrees to give us a lift at least until the road to Embokie forks off from the main road. We jump at the chance just to get moving. So we head out that way and pass through a few other small towns along the way and cross a couple bridges over some dried up rivers that are in desperate need of the rain season to fill up. And we get a few km outside a rather good size town to were a sign has an arrow pointing right and the town name Embokie and also near that is a sign for the lodge. We get dropped off and thank the driver, then look to were this next road is to lead. It is to the middle of freaking no were, heading straight into the thick of some real African bush. Drew and I just look at each other and laugh, which is all we really could do, TIA.
(The roads leads... la.)
We know the lodge is suppose to be another 20km up that dirt road so we don’t feel like hoofing it and we are just off the main road so we pull up some rocks and begin to wait for the next boleia we can hitch going that way to get to the lodge. Which luckily doesn’t take long for a Mozambiquen couple to roll up and we flag em down say they are going to the lodge and can give us a ride in the truck bed. They ask us if we know where it is and we just chuckle and say, “La.” We hope in the back and make our way 20 km up this straight outback rutted in road that has more bumbs and shakes than a carnival roller coaster. We keep on the road for like 30 min passing some of the most mato (rural area) villages I have seen. We have no clue where or when exactly to expect to get there but eventually it opens up from the bush to a massive view of the lake and the immense vastness it has. And we catch a few more signs that eventually lead us to the lodge.
This place is a crazy oasis in the Tete desert. It has grass and nicely constructed lodges with air conditioning, running water, and the works. Pool included. So we go check in and get our spot on a open lawn, find some trees and sling up our hammocks. Then just take in all the peacefulness this place has to offer. We even make some friends with the lodge’s dogs that were roaming around and the craziness it was to see a couple of pure breed dogs, rotwialer and a boxer, and for them to not be completely afraid of us.
After a bit of lunch/dinner and a beer, the lodge started setting up for the New Years celebration. Wasn’t too many people, about 40 consisting of some South African and Zimbabweans, the owner and his family, and a reunion of a couple Mozambiquen friends and their families, and us. The night progressed and we made friends with a couple of the South Africans who would eventually give us our boleia ride home the next day. As the New Year got closer and the lodge started to get a little more lively we continued to make more and more friends, explaining what a couple of Americans were doing so far from home and out this far in the mato. We actually made really good conversation with the Mozambiquen families later as they were all mostly from the province of Maputo where we had our training before coming to Tete. After a few more beers and some delicious cake the gave us on account of New Year’s Eve also being the birthday of the dads, we started to loosen up with the Portuguese and they also spoke a bit of English to keep the conversations flowing then we tried our hand at speaking some of the local language we had learned back in training, Xangana, which was their first language and they absolutely loved that. With huge smiles across their faces with every simple word we could remember they would cheers us and try and get us to remember another while trying to teach us more. It was quite a hilarity probably to sit outside the conversation and hear 4 different languages, Xangana, English, Portuguese, and Ndungwe, being thrown around with bits of native speakers mostly mixed in with majority of mediocrity. We had a blast with them and counted down the New Year together as universal tradition of popping champagne bottles as the clock strikes midnight continued even in Africa. Giving me a good sense of familiarity as I rang in the New Year 7 hours ahead of all you friends and family back in the states. Getting a head start on 2016, which is looking to being a good and memorable year.
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