Around the World and Back Again...10 Months To Go!

(two weeks old...stay tuned for a more recent blog update!)

Feliz ano novo e bem vindo a Moçambique! I just went to my blog page and saw that my last entry was on November 3^rd, 2011! Yikes, that was last year; it's been over two months. I apologize dearly for my long intermission, but I assure you that the past two months, while full of ups and downs and many unique challenges, have been positive for me and the promise of my next year here in Mozambique. So here we go, year two, bring it on!

Before I look forward to the year in front of me, I want to first take a moment to look back on the year that was, 2011. If I had to sum up my 2011 in a few words, I would say “new, humbling, and non-stop.” Considering I had never taught anything to anyone at any level before, figuring out how to teach biology, English and computers at a new school and in a new culture was a formidable enough challenge for me. Combine that, however, with the exciting but new challenge of running my English theater, journalism and JOMA (HIV/AIDS theater) clubs, and I often had my head spinning. I managed to figure it all out though and put all of the pieces of my life at Mangunde together. I found ways to commit time and energy to all of my projects and to make them fulfilling for me and my students. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, though, Mozambique found a way to throw a few more challenges my way to knock me off balance again. There was malaria, then there was a bus accident, then there was the break-in with the crazy machete-men in which I lost my computer, camera, phone, and ipod, then there was another bus accident and more malaria. Despite these setbacks, however, I was able to carry on and finish my year on a very positive note. October meant exam time and the end of the school year along with the regional English Theater competition that I organized in the provincial capital. I went into detail about the competition in one of my earlier blog posts, but it was a perfect grand finale to my first year here in Mozambique. Between running to and from the city, calling restaurants and hotels, and suffering through headaches at the bank, the competition ended up consuming every free hour of my life down the stretch. It was a glorious event, however, that made me remember why I am really here and the kind of difference a few committed Peace Corps volunteers can make in the lives of many, and I don't regret it for a minute. Needless to say, I was ready for a break in November.

November and December took me all over Mozambique and to three other countries. I began my break by making a journey down to Maputo to participate in the training for the new group of volunteers that were arriving to Mozambique. Suddenly, I looked in the mirror and realized that I had been here in Mozambique for over a year and was now “an experienced volunteer.” Thus, for a week in Namaacha, the very same town that I had spent two formative months a year ago for my own training, I dispersed my sage advice and broad experiences to the wide-eyed newbies. It was fun, and I was even able to spend some time with my old host family – Mama Joana, Papa Justino and their kids. After training, I was able to meet up with other volunteers in Vilankulos, a beach town on the way up the coast, for a few days, then head to Gorongosa National Park for a Thanksgiving celebration. Among a gathering of about 25 volunteers, we were able to procure a turkey and all contributed to have a feast of mashed potatoes, stuffing, squash, and pumpkin and apple pies for the holiday – now the fourth Thanksgiving in a row I've spent abroad. After Thanksgiving, I jaunted around the country a bit, seeing other volunteers and traveling to new destinations until, finally, it was time for me to go home. On my way out, however, I was able to stop in Malawi and South Africa. Both English-speaking countries, they served as a sort of half-way point between Mozambique and the upcoming month I would spend back at home in a developed English-speaking country – America!

Before I get to America, though, let me say that Malawi was gorgeous, well, parts of it. If you refer to your map of Africa, you will see that Malawi is a long and thin country that slices right through Mozambique, splitting between the northern provinces of Tete to the West and Zambezia to the East and riding the border of Lake Malawi, one the largest and most beautiful fresh water lakes in Africa. People say that Malawi is the knife that cuts right through the heart of Mozambique. As it's essentially in Mozambique, and it's another very poor country in Southern Africa, Malawi offers a lot of similarities to Mozambican culture: it's hot, public transportation is shit, and it seems to be full of many friendly people willing to stop and help you out. Allow me to elaborate on the public transportation. If you have read any of my previous blogs, or the blog of any PCV in Southern Africa for that matter, you've probably gotten the feel that public transportation can be a vexing, dangerous and pesky pain in the ass. The situation in Mozambique is one that I have gotten used to and now with an iPod and a sensible forgiving disposition can be made tolerable. When I stepped across the border into Malawi, however, I had no idea that I had just walked into a different playing field. I was trying to play football while someone had switched the game to field hockey at half time.

The first shortcoming of the Malawian transportation system that I found: the Malawian Kwacha (their currency) is tanking. It's depreciating at such a rate that it'll be cheaper to start using their bills as toilet paper in a few months. When we got there you could get 1000 Kwacha for about $4, but only a few months earlier it was probably double that and in a few month it'll probably be less. The result of this massive shift in values is that there are no stable prices in Malawi. Day to day, week to week, prices are in flux. Therefore, when you get on a chapa (public mini-bus) there are not established fares. Each passenger has to bargain the price independently with the money-collector for each different route. You could have 12 people in a van all going to the same destination but all having agreed to different prices with the collector. Being white doesn't help your bargaining power either. We found that collectors routinely began offering prices at least double what the other patrons were paying. Even after bargaining the price down to something that seemed reasonable for us, we found that the collectors often would not be satisfied by giving us the same prices as other Malawian passengers and would deny us passage. What's more, the other passengers would often refuse to tell us the rate that they agreed upon with the collector forcing us to bargain without any good reference. That was strike one for Malawi. Strike two was not having a cue. Let me explain. Let's imagine that there are five chapas that operate a route from A to B. Normally, that is, in Mozambique, there will be a line. Chapa 1 will sit at the front of the cue and wait to fill up with passengers while chapas 2, 3, 4, and 5 wait for their turn to fill, only accepting passengers when the chapas before them filled up and departed. All the passengers that come would file happily into chapa 1 and it would fill up quickly, allowing everyone to get where they're going in a somewhat timely fashion. Here's a hypothetical question: what would happen if the line system broke down and every collector was competing with every other collector to fill up their chapas first and leave? The answer...you would be in Malawi and ti would be CHAOS. You arrive to a town and immediately you have five different collectors preying upon you, breathing down your throat, forcibly trying to shove you into their chapa so they can fill up. They grab your bags and try to stuff them into the trunk, they honk their horns, and rev their engines all in a desperate attempt to get you thinking that they are going to fill up and leave first so that you will hop in. This is not a fun environment to wander around if you have just arrived to a new town. I came dangerously close to punching many collectors in the face after they tried to snatch my baggage out of my hands and force me to their chapas. Aside from creating a very hostile, noisy and stressful environment, you can probably guess what other shortcoming this pernicious filling strategy suffered from – chapas would take hours to fill up. There might be five different chapas each with five people in them waiting to fill up to 10 or 15 more spots, honking around and revving to seduce newcomers into their vans. If they could just consolidated their efforts and fill up one chapa we could all be on our merry way. It was extremely frustrating. If there is one thing I've learned in my first 15 months here in Africa, though, it's that things are never as simple as they seem.

Apart from chapa headaches, Malawi was really quite breathtaking. My destination was Cape MacClear, a small beach town on the coast of Lake Malawi. The water was crystal clear, fresh and calm. On our first full day there we rented kayaks and kayaked out on the lake, stopping at various islands to hop off and do some snorkeling. I heard later that Lake Malawi is home to the most species of fresh-water fish in the world, or something like that. Whatever it is, looking back, I don't doubt it at all. Just sticking your face under the water you could see hundreds of shimmering cyclids and vibrant blue tropical fish darting through the water. I had never seen so many tropical fish concentrated in one place before; it was a snorkeler's paradise and it was in a serene and transparent freshwater lake. We later looped around the back of one the islands and saw a whole population of bald eagles scanning the water and periodically swooping down to pluck a fish right out of the water. It was idyllic and almost worth the levels of transportational hell that we went through to get there.

After Malawi I headed to South Africa, another stepping stone on my slow re-initiation into the modern world. There are many parts of South Africa that are extremely poor, like Mozambique, but, unlike Mozambique, there are also parts of South Africa that are extremely wealthy. It's this juxtaposition that have made economic and racial tensions in S. Africa so volatile in the last 50 years, but also what makes it a very pleasant vacation destination for someone coming from the doldrums of undeveloped Mozambique. In Maputo, my girlfriend Hannah and I had met up with two other volunteers, Janet and Luke in order to travel South Africa together. We spent the first day in Johannesburg. While still fresh and embellished from its World Cup fame in 2010, Johannesburg couldn't hide its dark side. Racial tensions still run high as it boasts one of the highest murder and car-jacking rates in the world. Blacks still live in the mega-cardboard box townships that they were relocated to during apartheid and whites operate big businesses in skyscrapers downtown. Despite this, there were a couple of noteworthy destinations that we stopped at in our 24 hour stay in Joburg. First, I had breakfast at McDonalds...Egg Saugage McMuffin and a McCafe coffee. To the conventional American, it might seem trite to crave such cheap complaisance from the commercial and corporate world, or it might even seem to be a shameful forfeiture of all the values I learned in the Peace Corps over the past year to covet such a sinister symbol of obesity and materialism as the Egg McMuffin. But, folks, let me tell you, it was more than just a two dollar English muffin with a slice of processed cheese and a perfectly symmetrical cut of scrambled eggs stacked on top of each other. No, as I dipped my hand into the brown paper bag with the yellow “M” on it and furrowed my brow at the thought that McDonalds is still using the slogan “I'm Lovin' It” after 10 years, I felt as if I was dipping my hand into a little bag of home-grown comfort. Call me cheap, call me gluttonous, call me insensitive to the fact that McDonalds is brain-washing our country into an obesity-related coma, but to me, that Egg McMuffin on my first day in South Africa represented a little taste of home.

After the McMuffin, we went to a slightly more wholesome, but equally frightening destination in Joburg: the apartheid museum. Now I can't go into the same kind of detail with the apartheid museum as I went into with the Egg McMuffin, because, frankly, I don't remember it as vividly. I can, however, say that the museum was extremely well put-together, and daringly honest about the atrocities that took place in South Africa during the period of apartheid. The accounts of bold-faced unquestioned racial discrimination that were enacted by the white South African government between 1948 and 1995 were chilling. Black Africans were identified and systematically stripped of all opportunities to succeed in life by the perverse government – they were relocated and given bare-bones housing and broken down schools to ensure subjugation. Harrowing, though, were the stories of Africans like Nelson Mandela who rose up against the white government and eventually won his people's freedom back in such a noble and non-violent way.

Joburg was merely a jumping off point, however, for our final South African destination of Cape Town. All in all, we spent five glorious days in Cape Town. What can I possible say about Cape Town that hasn't already been captured by the stunning panoramas that I snapped and conveniently posted on “facebook” for my readers' pleasure? Well, not much, Cape Town has a breathtaking landscape and a lively atmosphere that make it a fantastic holiday destination for thrill-seekers and romantics alike...that's what I would say if I worked for Lonely Planet. It's true though. If you didn't get my hint before and follow the link to the photos, I'll give you a brief geographical description. Cape Town is a historic city on the beach-lined coast tucked into the rugged hills of the Western Cape. Providing a backdrop for the city is the magnificent Table Mountain, which sits majestically behind the city pinning in against the coast. As the sun glazes Cape Town in its warm summer rays, the perfectly flat mountain top watches over the city with its notorious shroud of clouds, known as the Table Cloth,” rolling up and over the mountain-top. When we were there our activities included climbing Table Mountain and taking the cable car back down, climbing Lion's Head, an adjoining peak, visiting the famous Fort, touring the wine country of Stellenbosch, walking along the waterfront and beaches, and visiting the Cape of Good Hope. At the Cape of Good Hope we ran into some unexpected guests – it was full of wild ostriches, baboons, and, best of all, penguins! Cape Town was pretty amazing, and there are about 1000 amazing restaurants to choose from. I felt that I had come a long way from Mozambique and had once again sold out to a material world that my friends and students back in Mozambique would never understand...but...it isn't hard to rationalize and tell yourself that you deserve something when you're gallivanting around a city as beautiful as Cape Town. After that, I think I was finally ready to go back to America...

Home. What was the first thing that stood out to me in America? Wealth? English-speaking? Obesity? Food? No, actually those things came later. I flew into O'Hare in Chicago, where my parents picked me up to drive back to Madison. My mom waited for me at the arrivals gate and I saw her anxiously craning her neck to see through the door as I walked in, still wearing flip-flops and shorts from South Africa in the December weather. She seemed to whisper to the crowd of women standing around her when she saw me and I saw them all give her nods of approval. I imagined her explaining to them while they all waited for their loved ones that she was waiting for her son who had been in the Peace Corps in Africa for a year. I can't deny that I felt a little validated. After seeing my dad and our dog, Maddie, in the car we drove off down the largest highway I had ever seen, towards Madison. That reminds me, what was the first big thing that struck me about being in the States? The roads. Driving on I-90 from Chicago to Madison we were on three lanes of glorious one-way interstate. Bright, freshly painted lines and reflectors marked the lanes, barriers separated us from oncoming traffic, bumper strips protected a robust shoulder and signs marked turn-offs for every possible destination one could have. I had never been so taken by such a simple concept as a well-maintained road. What can one good road do for a society? The answer is everything. People, goods, money and services can MOVE! Movement is a wonderful and entirely under-appreciated commodity. With a little bit of movement, people can start businesses, transport products, go shopping, and see their families. I sat there in awe, watching the signs and reflectors flash by my glassy eyes and imagined what Mozambique could be like with one road even half as nice as I-90. While not as eye-opening as the drive home, the rest of my stay in America was wonderful. I spent most of my time in Madison, catching up with my immediate family and grandparents who still live in Madison, playing tennis(!), jamming with my family on piano and bass, and eating my mom's delicious steak. I also had the chance to visit a few of my cousins, aunts and uncles, spend time at our cabin on Lake Superior and stop through Minneapolis to see my sister's place and catch up with some of my good friends from college. For New Year's I was even able to go down to Chicago to meet up with Hannah, who is from Michigan and was also back in the States visiting family for the same time period as me.

Like almost all PCVs who look forward to returning to the states for a brief stint in the middle of the service I had been compiling a list over the past year of all the things I wanted to do stateside that I had been missing. Sometimes when you're feeling lonely and restless over here, the most appealing activity is to fantasize about all of the good food and American things you are going to do when you get back home for those three weeks. While not the most productive activity for your service, sometimes it's a necessary escape. Cereal and milk, check, Subway roasted chicken breast on honey oat with pepper jack, check, Rocky Rococo pizza, check, Indian food, check, juicy home-cooked steak and salad, check....hmm, seems to be all food up to this point. Tennis, check, Christmas cookies, check, piano, check, ESPN, check, watch the Packers lose their first game in over a year, check, watch the Badgers lose the Rose Bowl, check, use a laundry machine, check, use a dish washer, check, use a micro-wave to heat up left-overs for lunch, check, sleep in my giant comfy bed, check, and finally, eventually get so sick of the ridiculous comforts in the US that I'm compelled to return to Mozambique...hmm, I kept expecting that to happen, and it never quite materialized. Nonetheless, January 5^th rolled around and it was time for me to say good-bye to my family, the comforts of home, and board a plane bound for Africa again. Stepping onto the plane and facing up to another 12 months in Mozambique wasn't as easy to confront this time around as it was a year ago for a few reasons. As some of you may have heard, while I was at home, there was a tragic road accident in Mozambique in which two of our fellow Moz PCVs lost their lives. While I didn't know the new volunteers that passed away particularly well, it was still a huge blow to our PCV family here in Mozambique and something that made facing the ever-present dangers and palpable grief back in Mozambique extremely daunting. Death affects everyone differently. For those people close to the deceased volunteers, I can only imagine the grief and loss that they are continuing to feel. For those of us, however, who may not have had close personal ties, but share the responsibilities and lifestyles of a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mozambique, it serves as a haunting reminder of how fragile all of our lives our, and the kind of risks that we submit ourselves to on a daily basis. That said, while I vacillated a bit in the days leading up to my departure, I eventually decided to come back to Mozambique and fulfill the rest of my service with respect to my school, my students, my friends, both in the Peace Corps and Mozambican, and for myself.

Now back in Mozambique, back in Mangunde, school has begun and I am glad that I made the decision that I made. When I arrived to my house I was greeted by a new Peace Corps volunteer, Mike, who will be my roommate for this year, our wonderful friend and housekeeper Gracinda, and her adorable and ever-growing one year-old son, Jacinto. I have been at site for a week and find myself slowing getting back into the flow of life here in Mozambique. The sounds, smells, and colors of Africa are all coming back. It's mango and pineapple season and Mike and I have already begun to satiate ourselves in the succulent nectars of Mozambican fruit. On Monday our school had its opening ceremony, and later that night we sat down with the pedagogical director to make the schedule. At the end of the day, I came away with almost exactly what I wanted: four sections of 8^th grade biology, the same grade that I taught last year, and four sections of 10^th grade English, the same students that I taught English to last year in 9^th grade. I may or may not pick up a few more classes, seeing that we are currently without any biology or chemistry teachers for 11^th and 12^th grades. We'll see what happens as the next few weeks unfold. For now, though, I am happy where I am and looking forward to another productive year here at school. Thanks for sticking with me through this, as usual, marathon of a blog post. In the future, I hope to post more frequently than once every three months and to keep the entries below five pages, something I failed at today. By the time I post this entry I will probably already be in Maputo, as I am leaving tomorrow (Saturday) to attend a week-long mid-service conference that all PCVs from my group will be attending. I'm looking forward to seeing volunteers that I haven't seen since training, and even though I feel like I just got back from the states, spending a week in the comfort of a Maputo hotel. I hope that everything is well back in the states and that you all finally got some snow! You're probably sick of the cold now and anxious for it to start warming up, but here I would die for a day in the 20s as it's already hot and humid in the thick if the rainy season here. Until next time! Peace and love. Ian.