The circle is now complete. When I left you, I was but the learner; nowI am the master

Ok I am done! I visited my host mother yesterday and like always it was great to be back home. My Mozambican home as my host mother says.

I have more things to add later but for now I'm in a hurry to get out of Maputo. Happy Thanksgiving


Love Jimmy

Someone has to save our skins. Into the garbage chute, fly boy.

Helen brought to my attention that my blog is too negative and serious. So before I start complaining again; I got something lighter.

Helen comes from a more traditional family where she should live at home until she gets married for example. One of the nights when I was visiting Helen, she was talking to her mom. Since they speak Korean, I didn't know if Helen told her I was there. If she did, I wanted to greet her from the background.  I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, "Can I say hi to your mom?" 

I showed Helen. As I showed her, I noticed it kind of sounded like I wanted to talk to her mom on the phone. Which I did not feel like we were at the point yet. I quickly took the paper back. I scribbled how I don’t want to talk on the phone, but simply want to greet her from the background. I was not in time. Helen read my new note and looked shocked.

"You do not want to talk to her?" Helen said as she covered the phone.

"No," I said no.

"I already told her you wanted to!" Helen said.

"Okay, give me the phone." 

I stepped up. After handing the phone back to Helen I felt like it was a good conversation. Helen's mom asked me some questions about Tete and Helen. I told Mrs. Yang that Helen's house was nice, her school was nice, her students are very nice, and how everything is very nice. Over the next couple minutes all I hear is Korean and laughter. I wondered what they could be laughing about??? Me of course, haha. Helen already told her parents that I was a Marine, who are commonly known as jarheads. Helen was laughing because her mom made a comment about my overuse of the adjective "nice." I kind of confirmed, minus the kind of, my jarhead stereotype in that short conversation.

I find your lack of faith disturbing

Not a whole lot going on in Mabalane. Shortly after Forrest left three weeks ago, I went and traveled around for a couple weeks. I finished my grades and bounced before the students had much time to beg me to change them.

I left Mabalane at 4:30am and pushed all the way through up to Tete City where I meet Helen at about noon the following day. 30 hours from Mabalane to Tete City, that is a very impressive display of traveling. I had a little rest at a police station in Inchope for about 90 minutes in the middle of the night. Once it was a more reasonable hour, about 4am, I instantly found a ride to Tete in a semi truck.

Tete is very hot and very dry. Helen lives in this newly built resettlement village named Cateme. It reminded me of a flatter 29 Palms with a more dead looking vegetation. The miners kicked the people of Cateme out of their previous village so they could mine it and moved them to this flat and dry area with nothing. Pretty standard operating procedures for greedy foreigners taking your land. Luckily for Helen it hasn't been too bad for her, my words not hers. They have energy, and two or three times a day running water. In addition it is pretty easy to get into Tete City. Because there are many Brazilians and South Africans in Tete working the city has a lot of westernized stores and products.

I don’t like how these foreigners are here taking advantage of the locals, paying them crap wages for dangerous work. But that is what our species history looks like, people with power taking advantage of those people without it. Maybe I’m not much better; I like to think I try though.

Frow Cateme we took a short trip to Blantyre in Malawi. It is a nice city. Cleaner and less crowded than many of the cities in Mozambique. It has decent roads and sidewalks, a shopping mall with a movie theater, and a verity of restaurants. I bought a basketball rim for our hoop in Mabalane and two snicker bars. We ate Indian and Ethiopian food.

After a couple days at Helen’s we went to another friends site before wandering towards the beach for a going away party. I don’t know the name of this beach but it is about an hour outside of Beira. We rented two vans to take 30 something of us 30 miles down a dirt road then hopped a boat across this bay to an island resort. We rented a house and most of us camped out in the yard. We pretty much had the island and beach to ourselves. It was pefect. We packed in lots of food and beer. Then split up all the cooking and cleaning duties for the weekend. It worked out great. Saturday we had a Halloween party and the rest of the time we chilled and enjoyed paradise.

After the beach I had another long travel adventure home. Which included lots of discomfort and sleeping outside in the dirt. But I made it home and was relieved to walk into my dirty house.

Before Forrest left we found out that there is an American at the prison in Mabalane. I was skeptical until Forrest went down there to meet Travis. He is American and was sentenced to 14 years for smuggling drugs. I didn’t talk to him about what happened but Forrest said he was tricked into bringing a bag for someone on his way to the World Cup in 2010. So he has been in Mozambique a couple months longer than I have. I went to see him yesterday and take him a few things. Helen gave me a bunch of candy from her last package for him, I bought him a toothbrush, took some fruit, a couple books, and Forrest left some shorts. Forrest also took him food, books, clothes, and gave him his ukulele before he left. So yesterday I went to see Travis. We just talked about random things for maybe an hour until the guards said it was time. 

I can’t stop thinking about Travis. He sits locked up in this cell with several others all day. The cell only has a small window and poor air circulation. There is a toilet that they try best not to poop in, but I can imagine how bad it smells in there. Before Forrest took him some books he had nothing. He just sat in this cell looking at the walls. When I asked him what he did, he said sometimes he would just sit there crying. The prison is an agricultural prison but Travis cannot leave to work in the fields yet since he was just transferred last month. Maybe he will get to work in the field once the guards get to know him. The prisoners only eat one meal a day consisting of unflavored beans and cornmeal porridge. 

Travis talks to his mom sometimes because the guards allow him to use their phones. Forrest took a photo and short video that we sent to his mother. I called her too. She seemed grateful we were there, but also very frustrated. Forrest and I have been emailing her. She sent me a package last week and I hope I can get it to Travis before I leave Mabalane.

As I walked home from meeting Travis, I thought about how much time Travis has to think about the mistake he made. How must be hard. With all the time in the world to think about what you did and how long you have left. How alone? He was locked up not knowing any Portuguese. I remember how overwhelming my first days were in my sheltered Namaacha home. I care to find out how difficult it was for Travis I love solitude, but I'll pass on spending it in a prison like the ones in Moz. I guess that is why Forrest and I want to help him out a little. If we complain about life here being able to travel and getting a couple hundred dollars every month, how must Travis feel?

Travis hopes that after four years he can make a deal to buy out the rest of his time in prison. Or he hopes that he will get out on good behavior after 7 years. But even then he would have to stay in Mozambique until his 14 year sentence runs out. Mozambique is a corrupt country and the rules and laws are funny. So who knows what will happen . If Travis was from a rich family he would have probably been home a long time ago. But if he was from a rich family, he wouldn't need to smuggle drugs. To make matters worse he has received little help from the US embassy or anyone else.

Be grateful for what you have! Some people are stuck in dark, stuffy, and crowded rooms that smell horrible with neither anyone to communicate with or help them. Peace, love, and do good things

Jimmy 

No time to discuss this as a committee

It has been a while since I wrote. But since I got back from South Africa there has not been a lot going on. Here is most of it in a few sections.

***

We had a Close of Service conference in Maputo. We stayed at this fancy hotel in this very rundown part of town. By fancy, I mean the rooms were standard for a nice American hotel. The food on the other hand rocked, both breakfast and lunch buffets. One lunch I had shrimp curry, grilled chicken, duck fried rice, and fish. It was the best food I ate so far in Africa. Although it was cool to hang out and see everyone, I was feeling really guilty about all the resources we were wasting. It was a three day conference that was useless. Everything we could have read in an email.

The poverty and homelessness surrounding us put my trip into perspective. Every time I left the hotel, I saw the “street kids,” groups of homeless orphans, roaming the streets at night. It was a tale of two worlds two different worlds on one block. With all those tax dollars for us to stay in one of Maputo’s finest hotels, I couldn’t stop thinking that I would have rather those kids have gotten to buy clothes, go to school, or get shelter. I wrote more about it in my journal. Of course, since it was a while ago, I already lost sight of it.

***

Helen and I went down to Maputo a couple of days before the conference and we hung out just the two of us. Most of you probably already know, but Helen and I have been dating since South Africa. I like her a lot. We are going to travel for about two months before she goes home. This is our rough plan. We will spend about a month on the beach in Tofo, my favorite beach in Mozambique. Then we will meet up with Drew on our way to Tanzania. We’ll spend Xmas in Malawi on the lake. Do a week long safari in Tanzania and after Helen flies home, Drew and I are going to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain in Africa.

***

It finally rained two or three weekends ago so we have water here at the school for the first time since April. Forrest and I have been carrying water every other day over a half mile. Every once in awhile we would get hooked up with some water from the river. (Someone asked about drinking water: we use a filter for our drinking water.)

***

Besides the usual stuff (reading, sleeping, teaching, eating, working out, and playing music), English Theater had been occupying a lot of my time. The Peace Corps sponsors an English Theater competition in every province. Last year Mabalane got scratched from the lineup, pretty standard for us. This year one of my best friends in Moz, Ali, made sure Mabalane was in it.

Where to start? Refresher, Mabalane was the second worst rated school in the entire country last year based on the national exam scores. But with the corruption in this country that is almost meaningless data. My theory is we were the second most honest; which still wouldn’t be very honest because I know lots of teachers helped the students by leaving the classrooms during testing so students could talk, copy, and cheat. So the expectations from Mabalane were low to say the least. Another fun Mabalane fact, people refer to Mabalane as, “behind the sun." To make matters worse, we started practicing late, about three weeks ago.

From talking to other volunteers, observing other classes, and meeting other students, I knew that my student's English is comparable. Because my day classes are smaller, I get to spend more time with each student. I also don’t really do anything outside of teaching so my focus is on student learning. Each class has some strong English speakers. So I knew we could put a good crew together.

First off, half my best students were not interested. Luckily for many of my students the opportunity to leave Mabalane is rare and motivation enough to participate. Still I only had about 6-7 students interested initially. The theme for this year's competition was “we are all equal”. I told them the theme and asked them to get ideas and start writing something.

The first couple practices were worthless. Day one, I explained the competition details: ten schools from the Gaza province would give 10-12 minute plays (only eight schools ended up coming). I told them to come up with ideas for the next day and we would start to write. Day two, they had no ideas. Then one student came up with this rip off idea of the Mozambican Independence. I nicely explained how that idea was not very good. Luckily I had an idea. I told them and they liked it. I thought we could write a comedy by changing and exaggerating the roles of men and women in Mozambique. The boys would take on the cooking, cleaning, getting water, raising children, and doing what the wife says. And the girls would be working, getting drunk, and hanging out with their friends. The next day they had a really horrible idea about domestic violence. Then I explained how the judges would be Americans and that we couldn’t use that idea. They were getting frustrated and wanted me to just write it for them, which a lot of volunteers end up doing. But I refused to do that.

Day four we spent about two hours writing and came up with about two minutes worth of script from the 5-6 people who showed up. Not good! I was wondering why I waited so long to get started. I gave an extra credit assignment to all my classes to write a dialogue of normal situations in Mabalane so I could get more material from students. The next couple days we wrote about 5-6 short skits. Then I took everything and tie something together. I typed up a script on my computer using my students writing. Then I found out the hard way that there is almost nowhere in Mabalane to print anything. Next practice I read the script from my computer and the students seemed to like it. The following day I printed the script and made copies for everyone. That day we assigned roles-- Sorry, this is way too boring and descriptive.

Long story short, we procrastinated big time. I wrote a script from all the skits my students wrote then we scrambled to fill the last couple roles. We didn’t have enough female students so we cancelled changing the gender roles. When we started to actually practice, it was eight or nine days before the competition. We meet every single day from there on. And when we started practicing my students started to come up with lots of excellent ideas and I had to tell them no, it’s too late now.

Daily, I showed up on time and had to call all the students to ask them why they weren’t there. We started 30-60 minutes late each day. Only two days we practiced with all the students. But the students practiced their lines and memorized them on their own. Some days the students had chores and couldn’t come. Some days they just flaked out. I wasn’t feeling good about my group. But each day things got better. We presented to the school last Thursday and that was the second time our whole crew practiced together. They performed well. The students watching were laughing and everyone seemed to enjoy it. One student taped it on his phone so I copied it to my computer and we had film practice that day. That really helped for them to see the things I was talking about changing or correcting.

That day walking home from practice one student asked me to buy him a beer. I was like, “I’m not buying you beer.” Then after joking back and forth I told them if you guys get first place I’ll buy everyone a beer. I was pretty confident that our one week of real practice would not be enough.

I was on the other hand worried about getting to the competition. It was in Macia and that is about four to five hours away. We had to be there by 9am. We met in the village around 330am everyone was there by 410am and we left Mabalane at 430am. At 830am we were the first school to arrive. Trust me, travel never goes that smoothly in Moz.

We signed up to present fourth after the first three I thought we were better than them. I gave a little pep talk for them to relax and have fun and told my students they were the best. They did great. There were a few small mistakes but no big deal. They spoke loud, used gestures, and spoke to the crowd. Their timing was perfect. We had a break and the other four schools presented. I felt my group did the best, but I knew I was bias.

I didn’t know how the judges would be scoring, so I focused a lot on speaking to the crowd and not turning their backs to the judges when during practice. No other school did that well. Other schools, the best three or four students did almost all the talking. My group was spread out well. Then some schools were really boring. Ours, not the funniest, was pretty entertaining. My student's accents sounded better too. So I knew we would be up there in the judge’s eyes.

Award time, Rita won best actress, awesome! Then third place, not us, one student went up to accept the award. Second place, I was feeling a little nervous actually; not us! One student went to accept. I knew it was us. First place, Mabalane! All my students jumped over the rail and ran up. Everyone was screaming and jumping up and down. They pulled me out there and one student picked me up. They were all so happy. We celebrated, took photos, and all the schools went for lunch.

Fidalgo, one of my best students told me he had never won first place before in anything. Most of my students probably hadn’t, and Mabalane definitely doesn't win normally. They all took turns carrying and kissing the trophy. I was really proud of my students and happy for them. Helen texted me and told me her group got second up in Tete. I congratulated her and then bragged about my students getting first.

During all this Forrest had taken Armando, I wrote about him in the past, and Tomas to the beach. Neither of them had seen the ocean. Armando had never left Mabalane. I hope Forrest writes up a blog about this because it was a very awesome day for Armando and Tomas.

(Forrest did write a new blog it is mainly complaining about stuff and it is really long. But it is all part of the Mabalane sage. http://forrestinmoz.tumblr.com/)

We met Forrest, Tomas, and Armando at the gas station in Macia to go back to Mabalane. One of the students asked about their beers. I already decided I would hold up my end of the deal.

Mozambique pretty much doesn’t have a drinking age. You’ll find little boys drunk on the beach. If there is a law it is probably 16 or 18. But anyone could go into any store or bar and buy a beer. Most women don’t drink, and the bars are always full of men. While we were waiting for Forrest, I told them all they could go and get one drink, a beer or soda whatever they wanted. Only four of the male students got beers. The female students got gum and yogurt. Two students shared a bag of apples. It was about 15 dollars, well worth it. And an experience I’ll never forget or reproduce in the states. Who takes their high school students out for beer, gum, yogurt, and apples to celebrate???

I felt like a champ, and my students, I could see, felt even better. The ride from Macia to Chokwe was full of singing, yelling, and celebrating the victory. I ended up staying in Guija with Ali so I could copy all our photos and our video.

http://youtu.be/y3PoGmtUNb8

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100435372701608.2460722.19717384&type=1&l=572973cf34

Waiting for Ali I started thinking about how upset the other groups were, even the second and third groups wanted to win and they were bummed out to "lose." All the volunteers were saying how sad or disappointed their group was when we were cleaning. Is the sadness or sorrow from the others students and schools worth the happiness we experienced? That thought has stayed with me. That is the thing I hate about sports and competition. People put too much emphasis on winning and not on competing. Why can’t all participants get to experience the pleasure that my group did? Or why cannot all participants go home happy at least? Why is winning so much more valuable than doing your best?

Overall it was an excellent day and one of the highlights of my service. Peace, love, and do good things

Jimmy

And I thought they smelled bad...on the outside

I have not written anything in awhile. And now is not the time for that although I hope to take some time to write somethings sooner than later. But for those interested in Mozambican culture. Lisa has this amazing blog that Helen was telling me about. I didn't really believe her. Then I checked it out and here it is!

Lisajospencer.blogspot.com

The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force

I’m back in Mabalane after 3 weeks in South Africa. There were many highlights and things to tell. Here is only a quick run through of what I did.

Forrest and I traveled down to Cape Town together and met up with Donna and Luis, a couple that just finished their Peace Corps service. On our way we stayed in Johannesburg with Drew at a fancy hotel by the airport. Forrest, Donna, and Luis all left me in Cape Town but that night Helen flew in to join me for the rest of my/our trip. I rented a car, and was waiting for her when she landed.

We spent a couple more days in Cape Town then traveled along the Garden Route, tasted a bit of the Wild Coast, and cut up to the Drakensberg Mountain range before dropping off the car in Nelspruit. We saw penguins and whales on the Garden Route. I went surfing at Jeffrey’s Bay. We went canoeing; slept in a tents; had great views; saw sunrises the best after cooking a warthog breakfast spaghetti; and hiked among other things. Hiking for a couple days in the mountains was my favorite part of my trip besides Helen’s company.

South Africa is beautiful here are some pictures for those with Facebook, http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100382487309358.2448514.19717384&type=1&l=b45a617db0 http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100374515959008.2446851.19717384&type=1&l=6c98e3be90. The camera died and we lost the charger, so there aren’t as many photos for the second part of the trip.

Besides the geography, I didn’t like the country very much. There was a racists vibe, and the country is extremely segregated. The rich areas are almost completely white with black servants. The poor areas, extremely poor, are completely black and colored. I heard these crazy stories from white South Africans about how all the blacks are going to rise up and try to kill all the white people after Nelson Mandela dies. Some people are building underground shelters, storing food and ammo. We picked up some hitch hikers on our journey, trying to pay it forward from all the hitch hiking we do in Mozambique. They all seemed friendly and grateful to get a free ride. Some of these hitch hikers gave me a better understanding of South Africa than my tourist view.

The following is my opinion based off the limited time and interactions with the people of South Africa. I was visiting tourist sites and only staying in nice areas. But everywhere I went was predominantly white with black or colored servants/workers. South Africa is only about 9% white but all the nicest places to go are all white. Everything we did costed a fee, or a form of racism because most of the black and colored people cannot afford such luxuries. Socialist roads and parks, like in the US, are pretty nice!

Occasionally we saw townships, I heard the more rural you go the worse they get which is difficult to imagine. I couldn't help wonder what the government does with all money from the never ending fees? Even their sales tax was high, about 14%. I asked some hitch hikers and they said there is welfare for children and old people. It is 250-450 rand (30-55 dollars) a month. They also said people in the rural areas never get any of it. I was told the president has five wives, numerous girlfriends, twenty something kids and two private jets for his family to travel. They say people gave up on voting because candidates come in with free shirts and food then they make a bunch of promises and once they get elected they never return. Instead elected officials buy a new house and car and take care of their family. This I witness in Mozambique, the people at the top seem to take advantage of their positions while the people at the bottom remain in need. 

We picked up this boy hitch hiking by himself. He is a primary school student who hitch hikes 30 km (18 miles) to and from school every day because the school in his town is too expensive. His father passed away and his mother stays at home to take care of his siblings. He seemed a bit awkward. I wish I remembered his name and knew more about him. I bet he has such interesting perspectives. I wonder how many white people give him rides? Will he remember me, as I suspect I will remember him?

South Africa is a very rich country, they produce a crazy amount of the worlds diamonds.There economy is significantly better than their neighbors if not the rest of Africa. But even with all that money there are serious problems. The people are not happy with the government, there are tons of crime, and extreme racial tension. At least, all the beautiful places are really developed, safe, and white. Got colonialism? Was this America in Jim Crow days?

There were many other things that I will try to add later. I’m getting tired of typing. Peace, love and do good things

Jimmy

Just a little higher! Just a little higher!

Forrest and i have been on this overnight bus to Cape Town for about 13 hours and we got anoth 4 hours left, hopefully. The landscape looks like the desert in California or Nevada. Even though it feels cold compared to Mozambique, I don't think it will be anywhere near as it is back home.

Saturday we took a bus to Johannesburg from Maputo. The boarder crossing was crazy because there were so many people; probably since South Africa doesn't require a visa. Hundreds of 
people waited and cutted the lines to get across. During the long wait, nature called. As expected, no toilet paper or toilet seat. When I left, I had no idea where our bus was with my bag. But a seasoned
veteran like myself came out of that situation feeling like a million bucks! 

Anyways by far the worse boarder in Mozambique. The place is also a joke. Forrest and I switched passports just to see if they would notice or check. They didn't. Forrest Elliott, 6'4", 220 lbs, blue eye, and brown hair. James Gomes, 5'10" 160 lbs, brown eyes, and brown hair. But all us white boys look the same anyway.

Drew's parents are visiting and they got him this awesome room at one of the airport hotels. Getting there was annoying and almost very dangerous. Online there is information about this cheap shuttle that goes from the airport to the bus station. Well we spent over an hour trying to find it. There were the city chapas that are super cheap but not the best option for white tourists; luckily we passed on that. We had to make a decision: to stay at a hostel or pay twice as much to go stay with Drew? We paid the extra money to go stay with Drew, and it was well worth it. His hotel and room were American nice. I took a long hot bath, which used more water than I have used showering in the last couple months. The next morning Drew and I did a workout before this amazing breakfast buffet. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Garlnad!

Many volunteers get really excited about McDonald's, Forrest had been talking about it for a while. Yesterday we finally filled Forrest's fix. And, well, it is the same ole poopy Mac D's from the US. Fries,
burgers, and ketchup all sucked.


Peace, love, and do good things



Jimmy

Darth Vader only you could be so bold

A couple weeks ago I went to this music festival in Swaziland called Bush Fire. It was a cool festival it had decent music, really good food, arts and crafts, local cultural stuff, and a social responsibility theme. A perfect place for a bunch of Peace Corps Hippies to meet for the weekend. My friend Jenna and I traveled together from Guija. She had us a free place to stay and a ride lined up from Maputo. Friday morning we left Chokwe and found a nice ride to Maputo. It is always nice to get a ride and not have to wait for and cram into buses. Anyways we met up with Vicki, a South African working in Matola about our age. After a few minutes Vicki had already told us all these crazy things about her life. How she just broke up with her boyfriend and he is also going to the same festival. Jenna’s window wouldn’t roll up or down and Vicki said she spilt beer down it the other night. She told us all her issues, there was plenty. Then I kept hearing the Dexter theme song. So finally I asked her about her Dexter ring tone. It’s her ex’s ring tone, interesting choice. We stopped for gas and Vicki goes inside to pay, Jenna and I looked at each other, laughed, and acknowledged that this would be an interesting ride and weekend. How did Jenna meet Vicki? She is a friend of Nick. Nick is a cool South African who lived in Chokwe last year. So Jenna and all the girls in Chokwe knew him. Now he is living in Swaziland and Vicki is a friend of his. She didn’t want to travel alone and we wanted a ride. An hour after finding out every private detail about Vicki we blew a tire in Swaziland. Poor Vicki would have had a hell of a time with the popped tire alone. We were stuck there on a hill and curve with a flat then with the angle of the road it was difficult to raise the jack. But finally I got the tire changed and we found a tire place to repair the popped tire shortly after. Sorry this is taking too long to explain. Anyways Vicki is quite the character. Jenna and I will be laughing about meeting her for some time to come. We have to ask permission to leave the country and are supposed to text our travel line every time we leave site. I never do. Usually because I forget but I do hate having to ask Peace Corps permission to do what I want. I understand the rules I just don’t want or think I should have to follow them. I will be happy to finish my government commitment and all the bureaucracy manure that comes with it. So I found out that our country director, Crazy Carl, was also going to this festival on Friday night. And guess who was the first person we ran into Saturday morning as we entered the festival? Yes, Crazy Carl. During our short conversation and greetings he made two jokes about having a list of people who were supposed to be there that he will be checking later then says, he was joking. But he wasn’t joking, I know what a loser. I had to sign a policy violation warning but whatever I’m not upset. I knew the rules and consequences for breaking them before I went. In my eyes I didn’t do anything wrong. My principle knew I went and Forrest covered my classes I missed. Bush Fire had some cool bands and was all about spreading social responsibility. All the proceeds from the concert went to this program to help orphans in Swaziland. Swaziland has about 1-2 million people and 11% of their population are orphans. The promoters and bands all seemed pretty passionate about the problems that most of these Southern African countries face. Three bands I liked: Jeremy Loops es this really creative one man band. Then there was Nancy G & The Human Family. Nancy is a hot reggae rock punk version of Tracy Chapman. My favorite band was this rap group called Rooted Soulz. Their energy and passion were bringin down the house. So if you’re bored check those artists out. But Vicki kind of stole the show with her drunkenness and shocking random comments. Last week Forrest and I got tricked into our first meeting of the year. Sometime last year we quit going to meetings and had no intentions on starting this year. Simple meetings in Mozambique last hours. Everyone has to speak and to make matters worse Mozambicans have a habit of introducing their selves or comments so meetings seem to drag on with all these side comments that if you’re lucky they’ll be relevant. Well we went to this one because a government official came to see the school. The meeting was scheduled for 8am. About 9:40am the meeting started and since Forrest and I were at our house we were the last to enter. I walked into the classroom and, o poop! Only the front row of chairs were available so our kindles which we had brought and planned to read were useless. I was really afraid we might have been in for a long meeting and stuck in the front. Somehow we finished in about an hour. In the meeting we found out that Mabalane is the second worst high school in Mozambique. Last year our national exams had the second lowest scores in the country. And it looks like this year we could be number one!!! I have class the first period at 7am three times a week. And I’m always the only person there on time. The rest of the country raises the flag and sings the national anthem at 6:45. But we like to raise it around 7:10ish and joke around during the anthem. Every few weeks I have to reprimand the students about being respectful. Tonight, was a standard Friday night. Forrest and I were the only teachers present. Our turd students are a direct representation of our turd teachers. Speaking of turd teachers one of them fooled me today into giving her test during one of my classes. Since my Portuguese is horrible I must of missed the slight difference between “can you” and “can I”. I thought she wanted to give her test during my lesson and we would trade. Then I heard her when she was telling the students and she said I was giving the test. Damn. Some of my students were laughing because I think they noticed I didn’t understand. It serves me right because I was just talking to my students about saying yes to everything. I often ask my students questions and they just say, yes teacher or ok teacher. Then I ask a question that should be a no response and they still answer yes teacher. So I stopped the class, made some jokes, and told them all don’t say yes if your don’t understand! They thought it was funny and even funnier when it happened to me. In my defense I thought I understood. Why do we often need something bad to happen to us or someone we know to be grateful for our situation in life. unfortunately a friend of my got some bad news recently. After talking to them about it I couldn’t help think of how grateful I am and lucky I am. Not only to be alive but healthy and so fortunate. Friends and family take some time to appreciate life and what you have. I stopped drinking about two and a half years ago, most of you probably knew that. There was only a couple times I thought about maybe drinking and I was always glad I didn’t. There are many reasons that all added up to me not drinking anymore. But to generalize I just don’t need to. I can have fun and let loose without it. But I was thinking about maybe drinking each of the Mozambican beers before leaving. But then I’m not sure. Everyone is going to want to drink a beer with me or try to get me to try this drink or drink one more. I already get people wanting to see me drunk or drink with me after telling stories from college, the military, or back home. What do you think? There is only four or five different beers here. I could space them out over a week or have one big night? But don’t expect me to start drinking again. Peace, love, and do good things Jimmy

Don't be too proud of this technological terror

I have mentioned before about the attendance and punctuality here in Mozambique. Two of my students are from a small farming village near the river outside of Mabalane called Maitze. These two students are always really late to class, usually 30-60 minutes. Side note: Maybe I mentioned this before but I give stamps in my students notebooks for their homework every class. As childish as this sounds my students are highly motivated by this and it makes it very easy for me to grade and check. Normally if students come in late and they have their homework done I give them a stamp but recently the students have all been too late too often so I stopped giving stamps for late homework. This really pisses the students off and guess what? The tardiness has improved a lot. Ok back to my original topic. My two students Armando and Ismael. Both are good students. Ismael is one of the few students who speaks, understands, and tries to learn English outside of class without my motivation. Armando is a really good kid(I’ll write more about him). So they are always trying to explain and reason with me why they are late and should get a stamp when they show up really late.” I’m sick teacher”,” it’s far teacher”, “teacher I had to help get water” ect. I do sympathize for them and understand the difficulties they face. They have to leave their houses when it is still dark to arrive on time. But I tell them part of being a student is being on time and maybe someday they will have a job they have to be on time to. Although I don’t know of any jobs in Mozambique you have to be on time to, I still think it is important and I want to teach my students to be responsible regardless of how far away they live. So I show no mercy and tell them to wake up earlier next time. Armando is one of the brightest students in the school and was the only 10th grader to pass all the national exams on the first try last year. He studies hard, has a daughter and wife at home, his father has passed away, and he has to work in the fields to produce food for his family to live. He is 20 or 21 and has never left Mabalane before. Last week Armando asked me to come to his house to meet his family. I told him I would and last Friday after school we walked to Maitze. Another side note and African Milestone: I finally walked to the river to do my laundry after over one and a half years in Mozambique. I filled my bag with a month’s worth of dirty clothes, soap, water and fruit, strapped a bucket to my pack, and then I left on the 6-7 kilometer hike to the river through the bush. This is what the Mozambican women do in the villages. And on my walk back I felt proud to be like a Mozambican women for an afternoon. After my laundry hike I thought the Maitze hike would be a piece of cake. I walked with Armando and Ismael to Maitze. This walk is no joke! The 8km must be from the market and not the school because it took us almost two hours to walk there. We got near the river in about an hour and I thought we were getting close then I seen a small village off in the distance and I asked, “is that it up there?”  They replied, “no teacher that’s zone 8.” After about another hour along the river in the sun and through the fields we arrived in Maitze. My compassion significantly increased for Armando and Ismael. I had more than a liter of water which was more than enough for my river hike and back. But we drank all that water on the walk. The students never take water to school and they ride their bikes which Ismael was walking and Armando’s brother was using on this day. But they were impressed that I wasn’t tired. But I was I just didn’t let them see that I was and very thirsty. Needless to say I drank a lot of untreated river water that afternoon. The little village was very nice. It looked peaceful and was full of big green trees, unlike Mabalane. There is no energy and all the houses are mud huts except for a couple brick foundations being built and the primary school. But the village looked beautiful. The yards were all swept and well groomed. People were surprised to see a white person without a car and especially shocked to see I walked out there. Armando’s family was waiting for me and very excited to welcome me. (Most people in Maitze speak the local language Changanha (spelling?) so I had to have Armando and his brother translate for me) They welcomed me with hugs and kisses and told me I was at home. It felt good to be appreciated and accepted by Armando’s family. They were disappointed to find out I wasn’t staying the night because I still had classes that evening. But I hung out for about an hour and drank tea and had lunch. It was really nice. But then I had to head back and it looked like I would be cutting it close. The walk back was just as long and I barely made it to class on time, haha. I had about ten minutes to drink some water and change my clothes before class. That would have been ironic having to explain to my students that I was late because I went to Maitze and its over 8km. I’m reading Gone With the Wind, which is surprising good. Reading about the South and the Civil War is very interesting. Reading this got me thinking about Southern Hospitality and Mozambican Hospitality. It was crazy reading about how generous the Southerners were( at least to the other rich plantation owners). Mozambique is also a very hospitable. People go to stay and live with their families for weeks or months. It is socially acceptable to ask for water and food when traveling through places. I often am invited to stay with people and asked to eat lunch or dinner when I am traveling around. Except the Southerners had a lot: lots of money, nice food, slaves to do all their work, and just tons of free time to enjoy life. But many Mozambicans have little and they seem just as generous. They are proud to offer you what they do have. I was asked by one of my loyal and exquisite readers about life with Forrest. For those who do not know Forrest. Forrest is a very easy going guy and I think both of us feel really happy with our roommate placements. Out of all the volunteers in our group Forrest is most similar to my friends back home. He is a 23 year old male who parties, chases girls, curses, makes fun of people, and is crazy by many people’s standards. Forrest tries to act like he doesn’t care about anything but he is a good person and every once in while I catch his soft side. Ok that is enough of me fluffy Forrest for now. We both read a lot and have a lot of time to ourselves. We share the cooking roles and often eat together watching a tv show or movie. Then we jam most days, less recently though probably because I’m reading a lot. And then we make fun of each other, tell poop and fart jokes, make up foul “would you rather” situations, and disgust all the crazy things we would do for Burger King or a burrito. Drew and Eddie, the other two male volunteers from the Southern part of the country are jealous of us. Forrest and I are chillin to the fullest and taking full advantage of your free time and solitude. If you want to know what we are doing? We are probably reading, jamming, laughing, eating, sleeping, or some combination of those things. I finally got my package from parents. I wanted these cd’s to show my students photos from America, Iraq, and Okinawa. The packaged turned into a box of goodies. I was a little upset to see how much it cost to send. But quickly forgot once Forrest and I busted into those chocolate cover graham cookies! O my I never remember those things being so good. And the ranch on our sandwiches has been a perfect replacement to avocados which are no longer available. We joke about quitting our service early because life in Mabalane without avocados is unbearable. But ranch stepped it up maybe we can hold on another week now. So thanks mom and dad! Jodi, the ring looks really nice. I am going to a concert in Swaziland this weekend and going to show my students the photos next week. So you all can look forward to my next post. Forrest finally updated his blog after a year, forrestinmoz.tumblr.com Peace, love, ad do good things Jimmy

May the 4th be with you

I was trying to make my blog a little more exciting so I wrote a to be continued from a sketchy situations I found myself in. But while I was writing it I got really tired and now my lack of a quality internet resource is preventing my thriller suspense post. Maybe next time! Anyways I had an amazing three week vacation. It was five days of traveling to get to my destination Victoria Falls in Livingstone, Zambia. I spaced it out over seven days. I stayed with other volunteers along the way and ended up on a diesel truck overnight into Lusaka, Zambia the nation capitol. Then after leaving Victoria falls I returned to Mozambique in under 24 hours and was on the beach the following day. I spent a week at the beach before returning to site. The Lusaka was great. Helen and I arrived at about 6am and had two days to wander the city before meeting up with Ian and David. It was like being in American. They have Subway and huge shopping malls. The malls were just like the ones at home. Our first night in Lusaka we went to the movies after walking around all day trying to find the US embassy and Peace Corps Office. Helen ate Subway and I found a burrito for dinner and then we went to see The Hunger Games. The movie theatre was better than the one in Medford, the movie wasn’t very good but just going to a movie was. The next day we tracked down authentic Belgium chocolate in Zambia, which we confirmed as being authentic. I ate like an American for the two days I was in Lusaka. From Lusaka we took a nice bus to Livingstone. We arrived fairly early but after going to big grocery store and checking into our backpackers hostel, which had a climbing wall and a decent pool, we decided to chill for the rest of the afternoon. The feasting continued in Livingstone. Our first day at Victoria Falls we hit up the National Park and spent most of the day there. April is about the peak water volume for the Zambezi river. The mist from the pressure of the water falling creates a wicked down pour of water near the falls. There were rainbows everywhere as we enjoyed the waterfall and the shower. We were all completely soaked from head to toe, besides being a little cold, it was astonishing. There are a few different trails and viewpoints exlore. On our way down to the bottom trail we almost were attacked by baboons. Luckily they went for the four white chicks behind us and the old ladies in front of us, seriously. The group in front of us and behind us had a purse stolen. We didn’t have our bags because we left them at the office after they were completely soaked from the falls. We also had Helen with us who is something like a professional baboon fighter (Helen was wacked in the face by a baboon stealing her purse last year). I ended up joining some of the locals in a baboon hunt. The baboons had stole two purses ripped everything out and ran off with the cameras for some reason. I watched one of them biting at the girl’s camera before disappearing into the bushes. It was pretty funny, probably not for the girl without the purse though. There were hundreds of baboons around the park. The rest of the day Ian and I carried sticks just in case. There are two resorts next to the park that have a lot zebras. We went to check it out and got a tour by the security guard. The one resort was ridiculously rich and we were walking around looking like poor volunteers. We also seen giraffes and a crocodile. Ian’s life flashed before his eyes as we were walking and out of nowhere this crocodile quickly sprints out from the bushes straight at us. Luckily the crocodile was a huge salamander. But we realized that if we can’t out run a salamander we are in a world of hurt if a crocodile comes for us. As our tour came to a close I wanted to take a picture and noticed I left my phone on a rock hours ago tying to let it dry from the waterfall showers. So I’m back to a normal phone now. Day two in Livingstone started with a safari walk at a local park. There were not any predators but we seen about everything else. We seen elephants, zebras, giraffes, impalas, baboons, rhinos, warthogs, wildebeests, and several birds. After the safari we went back to the hostel to relax a bit and head back to the falls. We had been debating bungee jumping the last couple days. I noticed that I had spent all my money and Ian didn’t want to jump off the bridge. Most of me didn’t either. So we went to the falls to check out the bridge area that connects Zambia with Zimbabwe over the Zambezi river. It was looking like a no go on bungee jumping. We were taking photos and I was broke. Then all the sudden Helen steps up and tells us we’re jumping off the bridge and takes off to the office. This is a 120 meter bridge and I’m not going to lie, jumping off it scared the poop out of me. We look at each other and were like I think she is serious, which she was. Ian and I went but were not expecting to do anything besides watch. Helen was not taking no for an answer so she ended up loaning me the money. I was thinking, “what did I just get myself into?” We did the Big Air Experience, a zip line across the gorge, a rope swing off the bridge and the bungee jump. The zip line was a joke. But the other two jumps were not. Both are from the top of the bridge with complete free fall until the cord runs out. The swing is feet first and the bungee is a dive. Diving off a bridge is extremely scary to me and jumping feet first is not any better. Both were really scary but I liked the rope swing better. Look it up on google or youtube. I traveled back to Mozambique through Zimbabwe, which we are not allowed to do in the Peace Corps. But whatever it’s shorter and a new country for me. It was a bit sketchy and I ended up traveling a night too. But all worked out well. Read my second to last blog post for more on that. Then I hit the beach! I watched the sunrise 7 straight mornings on the beach. I spent 3 nights in Tofo, where I met some cool travelers and chilled. Tofo was empty and I felt like I had he beach o myself. I read a lot and relaxed. I went surfing one day and it was the best surf day I ever had. I hope to do it again sooner than later. Then I went to meet up with some other volunteers at Drew’s house, Drew is the one who visited me a couple months ago. Drew’s house and site is something else. He has running water, shower, indoor toilet, three bedrooms, and furniture. We just cooked and hangout that night. That weekend there was a big party in Vilanculus. So we all left Drew’s to meet at the backpackers. There was about 60 volunteers gathering for a drinking competition. It ended up being surprisingly fun even for someone not drinking like myself. Forrest brought my guitar and there were two drums. So we jammed each night. Forrest and I call our little band we have Spicy Poop and we are kind of a big thing here with some of the volunteers, haha. The weekend was spent swimming and laying on the beach all day. I cooked shrimp for the first time and it turned out well. I camped out on the beach Saturday night with a friend. The weekend was so fun and a perfect way to end my vacation. Forrest and I stayed another night in Vil at Drew’s. I went to class with Drew Monday morning, he teaches English at a teaching institute. His school is just as spectacular as his house. I took my guitar and we jammed Bob Marley for his students. Then they asked me about my life. They were all very interested about the military and I ended up hazing four of his students. It was surprisingly fun. Check out the previous blog post of Drew’s weekly email for more details about it. Now it’s Friday night I just finished teaching and am back to my Mabalane life! I may have missed a few things but that should be about it. Check out Helen’s blog too for her perspective on our Zambia trip, http://moz15.blogspot.com Peace, love, and do good things Jimmy

Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited

Here is another post from Drew starting me. Did i write this? No. Is Drew in love with me? Maybe! The following italic text is all Drew Dear Full Metal Jacket enthusiasts, I have had many different visitors come to my classroom over the past year and a half.Most of the visitors are clients of my friend, Mrs. Mandy, who runs the horse safari in Chibuene. But some of the visitors are fellow Peacecorps volunteers or people who visit me. So far my two most memorable visitors have been Jackson my brother in law who played bluegrass guitar (the students freaked out) and Amy a naval pilot who told the students about how her planes have gigantic magnets in the back which can detect Soviet submarines (I freaked out, how cool is that job!!). Those two guests may have to take a backseat to my fellow volunteer James who visited my classroom yesterday… For those of you who read this missive week in and week out, first of all G-d bless you, but second of all you may remember me mentioning James a few times. Most notably as the awesome bro who let me use his drawstring bag as a substitute shoe when my flip flop popped at his site Mabalane. This was an awesome gesture because we were about 7k from anything approaching a road or surface that was not scalding hot sand. That was James’s site, now he would visit mine, and not just my site but my classroom. All my guests bring their own flavor or experiences to my class. Since my students will be English teachers next year it is a great resource to live so close to an area that has so many English speaking visitors. I have had Canadians, New Zealanders (I believe they are known as Kiwis) Americans, Brits, Scotch, Irish, Australians and even French people who speak English to my students, they visit and speak about their life in their home country. This is great for many reasons, 1. my students are exposed to lots of different accents, b. when the students ask questions about the guests home country they are expanding their worldview, threeve.) it is a really nice experience for the visitor who gets to meet future teachers of Mozambique, and finally it is not boring!! I am sure that some people would love to watch me stand in front of a room and talk all day, I haven’t met these persons yet but they seem awesome, but with visitors my students are exposed to an ever changing cast of English teachers. The volunteers who work at other IFP’s (teacher training colleges) are jealous I have such a cool resource. So what did James bring to the table? His guitar of course. James and I sang three songs with the students, in much the same way that we have music appreciation class. After each song the students would point out the English words they knew and also try and figure out the meaning. James and I sang Bob Marley’s “Three little birds” and “No Woman, No Cry” as well as the old go to standard “In the Jungle.” James led one and a half of the discussions and I picked up the others. James was a hit, how could he become more popular with the students. Well, when James began to answer questions about his life the students were very impressed when they learned that James had joined the Marines when he was 18 and that he is a former soldier. James shared the following items with my students. The military is: • Interesting: you get to go live in lots of different places (the students were intrigued) • Difficult sometimes: you go out into the desert and the jungle for days or weeks and you don’t get to bring deodorant (students laugh) and there are no women (students laughed a lot, long and hard too). • Helpful to go to college: after you get out of the military they will help you pay for college, like when James attended Oregon State University (the students were intrigued by a free university education) James was a hit, and was just about to finish when I raised my hand and asked James if he could, “…explain what a Drill Sargent is?” James smiled and said he could if I wanted to, but that he would need about 4 volunteers. The volunteers assembled in the front of the classroom and Alberto was designated as their unit leader. James warned them that when you go to boot camp the drill sargent is hard on you and that you can never do anything right. The students nodded although I am not sure if they knew what they were getting into. James left the room with his baseball cap off, but when he returned it was back on and the brim was pushed way down over his eyes! Drill Sargent James immediately noticed that Aly’s belt was out of order and made sure Aly knew too. “What is that! Is that a belt, that is ugly, how did you do that?” Berto, who was standing next to Aly thought this was humorous but DS James immediately invaded his personal space and asked him, “Am I a comedian, do I amuse you? Is that what I am here to do? Do you want me to destroy you? I will destroy you? Get on the ground? Pushups!! Fast, FAST, FASTER!! Up, up, up jumping jacks!!” (I stayed out of the way throughout most of the proceedings but did assist Berto in demonstrating what James wanted when he told him to get on the ground ((pushups)) and what a jumping jack looked like). DS James then demanded to know why Alberto was letting his unit get out of control, pretty soon DS James had all 4 members of his unit on the ground, and according to him were not doing pushups nearly fast enough. One of my other students, Godfrey, got up to take a picture with his cellphone but I quickly asked him to sit down. We don’t need pictures of PCV’s forcing students to do pushups, at least not out of context. James had the unit stand back up and decided he didn’t like how Bosse was looking at him, he invaded Bosse’s personal space and assured him, “You’ll never make it my United States Marine Corps!! Do you want me to destroy you? I will destroy you!!” Then James the PCV returned and he hugged and thanked all 4 volunteers. Throughout the entire proceeding the entire rest of the class had been laughing uproariously and finally the 4 vols got to join in. James and I finished the class with a few more songs, he and I sang Weezer’s say it ain’t so together followed by a solo James performance of TI’s “What you like.” The students loved both renditions. Before James left he asked the whole class how many of them wanted to join the US military and almost every hand went up, later he told me based on that question he didn’t explain boot camp well enough. On the way out of the door the students asked James to teach them how to salute. James informed them about the very specific way that a Marine salutes and took time to correct a few students who had technical difficulties. I whispered to James as we left the room, “Dude their gonna salute me from now on.” James responded, “Just make sure they do it right, blade of the hand out, crisp up, fast down with no palm showing…” Thanks James. Thanks for visiting and until next week, or until you come visit my classroom, I’ll see you in another life brother. Drew Garland

You have your moments (Part 1)

It's about seven or eight pm and I find myself in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe waiting for a bus to leave to the national capital Harare. The city is dark and dirty, both literally and figuratively. The tide has turned since this morning.

This morning was a beautiful sunny day as I departed from Helen, Ian, and David in Livingstone, Zambia to travel back to Mozambique through Zimbabwe. I am off to a late start but I feel confident in my options and rough idea of a plan. Of course there is never a dull moment in my travels especially after adding my lack of planning to the equation.

I’m alone, it’s dark, and I don’t know the city or country I’m in. I have no phone, no map, no watch, no clock, nor a flashlight. I’m not freaking out but I’m definitely feeling very alert and asking myself why am I in this situation? There are a bunch of men outside the bus I’m on just loitering and joking around, nothing unusually for Southern Africa; the city is full of trash and the buildings are run down, still not unusual for Southern Africa. I think I may have just been hustled. The person I paid for my bus ticket is long gone. I really hope I have a seat because I have nowhere to go. How did this happen?

Mistake number one happened months ago; I lost my US debit card. Mistake number two is more recent; over the last few days I spent all my money from my Mozambique account without making any plans to transfer money. My third mistake, getting off to a late start, is a direct result of my first two mistakes. I should have left at 5-6am but I ended up leaving around 10am. Mistake number four, I got on a very slow bus to Bulawayo and watched numerous vehicles pass us that I could have gotten a ride from. My plan was to catch a 9:30pm train to Mutare that would arrive the next morning. After an hour on my bus, I realized that the 9:30 train would never happen. They have over night buses to Harare but as I did the math in my head I was going to arrive at 1-2am.

To Be Continued

Not many of them, but you do have them (Part 2)

A little less than 24 hours after departing from Helen, Ian, and David I find myself crossing the boarder to Mozambique safe, sound, and with a ride to Chimoio. My travels were slow, nerve racking, and often uncomfortable, but in the end the worst thing that happened was I left my book on one of the buses. Not to shabby!

You don't have to do this to impress me

The following italic text was written by one of our visitors earlier this year of his experience in Mabalane. I.didn't change any of it I only cut out some of the original email that wasn't about Mabalane. Why is it so dramatic? Well if you knew the author or Mabalane, you'd understand. I present you with

True Peace Corps Stories: Mabalane by Drew

"The first line of this email is dedicated to the greatest act of brohesion that has occurred in my Moz peacecorps experience. There I was trekking with Forrest and James along a path that led from their crocodile/schisto infested river back to their town, a path that was roughly 7k long, and my flip flop popped… What did Forrest offer, he asked me if I was missing “Vilankulos” yet. It was roughly the 82nd Vilankulos related comment he had made since I had arrived in Mabalane roughly 19 hours before. What did James offer, the greatest gift a bro can give… but well I’m getting a little ahead of myself, let’s dial back the story about one and a half days and roughly 400 miles.

Traveling to the matu-est site in Southern Mozambique requires a five day weekend. I found out school wouldn’t be starting for another 9 days until February 15th, so now would be the perfect time to travel down to Gaza, past the KFC in Xai Xai (the best part of Gaza) to my friend Forrest and James’s site in Mabalane. Mabalane has become the stuff of legend in our 15er group, it seemed every time we got together for a conference or a get together James or Forrest had another story about their uber matu site. “Yeah, we live next to a prison, sometimes the prisoners leave and wander around the town.” “Yeah, it takes us four and a half hours to catch rides out 40k.” “Yeah, this one time I fell asleep in this carvao (charcoal) truck and fell asleep in the back and then we broke down and I slept on the side of the road.” It seemed that Mabalane itself was the wacky third roommate in Forrest and James’s peacecorps “Three’s Company” experience. But if I was ever going to get down south I would have to take another five day travel weekend to get down there so I could spend more than 19 hours at their site before turning around and heading back up north. On Wednesday morning/Thursday I was off, I took the overnight express Maputo bus (Don’t tell Peacecorps, this phrase will occur in multiple places) to Macia so that I could make good time and spend a day in Guija before I hopped a truck with Forrest on Friday.

However after my brief respite in Guija was over it was time to do what I came to Gaza to do, find the mystical city of Mabalane! I rendezvoused with Forrest in the burgeoning metropolis of Chokwe, he had to buy several items, 27 baggias, 3 cheeseburgers, a basilla, a new fan, a new broom, and 40 breads. Forrest was easy to spot, James had just shaved his head so spotting a six foot five shaved headed white guy was the easiest part of my day. After acquiring the necessary grocery items we headed out to James and Forrest’s home. We caught a reasonably fast ride, the 4-6 hour journey was completed in a mere 3 hours, very cool if you think about how much time I’d be able to spend there, not as cool if you look at the pictures of the road we took in or look at the bloodblisters on my hands from hanging desperately onto the bed of a cargo truck.

As I entered James and Forrests house I was faced with how not unlike hell on earth it was. Sure it was not the ritz carlton but my co-pcvs were also not squatting in a ditch shading themselves from the sun with banana leaves. The most striking feature was how hot it was inside, easily 40 degrees centigrade or more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Three fans were running at once, and the breeze they created was pleasant but if you were not immediately adjacent to the fan they really just pushed the hot air around, weak. Apparently the fans were also a relatively new addition to the house, only having been around since after last thanksgiving. The first night we deep fried vegetables and smothered them in smuggled in ranch dressing. We needed the fuel for our epic hike the following morning.

After really comfortable night of sleep (3 nestera mats stacked on each other plus two fuzzy peace corps blankets equals one halfway decent bed) we set out around 11 AM, right before the hottest part of the day, we are geniuses in southern Mozambique. The plan was to hike the 7 or 7 and a half K down to the river and initially this is what we do. Things are going well, its hot but we are moving at a nice clip. James points out the prison that is within 2k of their school. I hear about the time they, and some expat Eastern European tourists accidently wandered into the prison and were detained for questioning… we took the wide way around the prison. But soon after the prison we found that the path next to the canal had merged with the canal. Not the canal had not dried up, it had actually spilled over and about three quarters of a k had become a marshy highway. With no alternative we trudged on, and it was actually kind of nice because suddenly our feet, ankles, kneecaps and in some instances our upper thighs suddenly became cooler. After crossing the LOTR-esque marsh lands we finally came to the river. It was…flowing at least. Several Mozambicans had warned us that Crocs were all over the place so Forrest and I started hucking rocks into the water hoping that if there were crocs on the bottom this would force them to surface. James pointed out that perhaps the rocks would attract crocs but at that point the rocks had been thrown, they couldn’t be unthrown. Forrest and I gingerly waded up to our mid ankles then immediately flopped into the water enough to wash the sweat and crud off ourselves. However we only replaced said crud with stagnant river crud, so all in all it was kind of a draw. After quickly scampering back onto shore James, the boldest of the three, waded out to his hips and then flopped around a little, then got out of the water quickly.

With the river trip under our belts we turned and took a different trail back to town that was about 8k away. Everything was going absolutely fine until the thong on my flip flop popped… If there was a worse place I’ve been in Moz to pop a flip flop I can’t think of it. We were on an incredibly hot road, it was roughly 1 pm and there was no one else around for kilometers. I won’t reproduce what I yelled word for word, let’s just say that I flexed and exercised my vocabulary that day. At this moment Forrest chose to point out once again the difference between Mabalane and Vilankulos. Forrest had frequently pointed out the differences between our sites during my visit to his site. I decided that was the ideal time to tell Forrest about all the different things I was going to do the following week and how I was going to text him about every single little detail. I did this in a perfectly calm and normal voice, and by normal and calm I mean I was screaming with veins bulging in both my neck and forehead. James meanwhile kept his cool and reluctantly agreed to let me use the drawstring bag he was using as a backpack to fashion a temporary shoe. By tying the drawstrings tight around my ankle we were able to create protection for my feet from the hot hot sand. James gave me the shirt (technically backpack) off his back so that my foot wouldn’t be subjected to an ungodly blistering. Forrest decided that time was the ideal time to point out the ways our peacecorps experiences were different. Eventually we followed the path and arrived back in town. We promptly went to their towns only restaurant and got 3 big bottles of water as well as a huge grape Fanta to split four ways. We also ordered three meia frangos that eventually arrived.

What could top a tortuous afternoon of hiking? A violent thunderstorm you say, well that is exactly what we got that night. Luckily Forrest had fully charged his laptop so we were not without entertainment. We tried to watch the incoming storm but the winds were pushing us off of their porch. Sometime between when the storm started and when we looked out the window the tin roof that was the only covering for their latrine/shower (one and the same room, thanks peacecorps) had blown away. Forrest also took this opportunity to mention that with the weather there was no way I was going to escape Mabalane in less than 7 hours. Thanks again Forrest. But the next day I caught a medium full truck that got me back to Chokwe in only four and a half hours. By the time I rolled into Chicumbana to pick up Vivienne it was decided that KFC was needed immediately. The last time I had eaten was the meio frango in Mabalane so I proceeded to order- two twisters, two popcorn chickens, two fries and two coke zeroes. Vivienne bet me I couldn’t finish it, a foolish bet if I ever heard one and while I was finishing the last fries I texted Forrest about what I had just eaten and that I was about to buy a soft serve cone too. I thought as long as I was known as the soft coastal volunteer I might as well embrace that roll and all the fringe benefits it entails. The following day was another blur of travel but at some point I did arrive back in Northern Inhambane, and there is no place like home, oh Dorothy you said it alright. This week will be a nice relaxing week, I just found out that even though the students have arrived we won’t start classes until next Monday. Swell, spare time, that’s exactly what I need at this point."

Occasionally, maybe... when you aren't acting like a scoundrel

Well Joseph is gone. The term is almost over. I killed a rat with a blow to the head. We had a couple visitors. The province gave these stupid final test. I read War and Peace. I almost burnt down the house. And played a little jam session for the students Friday.

The students finally stopped passing out and started coming back to class. There were a couple rallies, some witch doctors doing their thing, and who knows what other spiritual or magic tricks. I think most students realized that they needed to go to school or they would fail. Last week we had these province wide testing. The tests were written poorly as usual and full of stuff I didn’t teach. No one told me about these tests until a couple days before. So the students did pretty bad. And I was reminded how much the school system here frustrates me. Half the teachers let the students cheat and talk. Unfortunately most students don’t know the answers so even with all the cheating the scores were still horrible. There were no lessons te test week or the week and a half after. In Mozambique the 13 week trimester turns into 9 weeks, 7 if you have ghost.

But I have a couple more days then im taking off and going to see the largest waterfall in the world, Victoria Falls. Ill have to travel on buses for about 5 days there and back. although I think it will be worth it.

Forrest killed a rat with this metal pole a couple weeks ago. Then a few days later another was in he house. Forrest closed all the doors and trapped it in the front room. Then we chased this rat around the room like Tom and Jerry. This was a very resilient, agile, and crafty rat. I wanted to let him go after some of the acrobatic moves he pulled. But we finally trapped him into a bucket with the lid on. I told Forrest it would be easiest just to let me suffocate and he would probably die in a few hours without air. I also thought this would be less brutal and painful for the rat too. I was wrong. He quickly passed out or appeared to. Then in the morning I heard a lot of noise from around the bucket from my room and had a dream about the rat escaping. We check the bucket in the morning after 10 hours in the bucket. The rat was still breathing and bleeding from its eye balls (like he was hanging out all night with Eye Sucker inside joke for a few of my loyal readers). So the bucket is not air tight. And this little opening has completely re-energized our captive. I say lets drownd him, should be easier and more humane. Well he jumps half way out at the first sign of water, Forrest tightens the lid and the rat is flailing around trying to get away. Forrest secures the bucket upside down on the ground and I come in for the kill with the metal pole to the head. Of course I feel bad about killing the rat but Forrest would have sooner or later plus he was holding the bucket.

Two weeks in a row we had visitors, Kaitlin and Jenna. Kaitlin joined me for my Friday night class. Kaitlin is a pretty white girl with big blue eyes and she gets a lot of attention from Mozambicans. I told my students to prepare questions to ask her. So of course they ask right off the bat if she is married, has a boyfriend, and has children. Then a few of the guys start hitting on her, haha, I had to settle them down a few times. Then we took Kaitlin to eat at the restaurant Saturday evening, bad idea, lots of drunk Mozambicans out on Saturday nights. So we kept getting harassed by all local drunks. They were friendly and not wanting to cause problems but it was just a little annoying since we were hungry and sober.

Jenna’s weekend was a lot nicer, don’t tell Kaitlin! We avoided the village Saturday night. Before my class Friday I took Jenna around the town and showed her the market, train station, my workout spots, and the neighborhoods. She brought us cheese, so that night after class we cooked quesadillas in the dark because the energy was out. They were so awesome. Then Saturday we went to the river and chilled on our sandy beach.

I finally read War and Peace. It is the book you want to read but never get around to read it or make time. It is one of the longest novels ever written and considered one of the greatest books ever written. The book has 366 chapters. Reading it is a real commitment. I was.surprised how much I liked it. It really is an amazing book. I want to read it again later in life. Leo Tolstoy is great at entertaining and teaching you. It has a little of everything. History, philosophy, romance, war, and upper class society drama. I probably spent about 3-5 hours a day reading in and it took me exactly a month to finish. If you have a month off you should check it out. Tolstoy was an interesting man and I want to read more of his stuff.

The other night I almost burnt down the house. Luckily our house is cement and doesn’t catch on fire. I was making beans and got called down to the school to monitor test. So I quickly finished cleaning the beans and went to school. Well apparently the stove was too close to our box of coal, gas, fan, a bucket, and maybe a few other forgettable items. Forrest comes home to your neighbors pulling things out of our house and trying to stop this fire. We might have lost all our stuff if this house wasn’t cement, but it is and we didn’t. luckily. So if you were wondering if I’m still brain-dead? Yes I am!

I’m teaching a few of the students how to play guitar. So yesterday we jammed I played a few songs and the students kept requesting more. It was fun. And English as a foreign language students cant tell when you make a mistake, haha. We are going to work on a Mabalane song.

I think that is about it. Just reading a ton. Not the last week though because I was busy with school work. The days are shorter and much cooler. And dark times are coming soon when avocado season ends. Forrest and I eat so many avocado sandwiches. I’m too tired to re-read this. So sorry for any spelling and grammar but you should be used to it by now.

Peace love and do good things


Jimmy