first few days at site.

I have been at my site for a few days and I am feeling really good. My house is spacious- it has a kitchen, living room, indoor bathroom, bedroom, and an extra little room that would be ideal as an office space if I could afford to furnish it. I have electricity but no running water in my house. I live next to a family and they are great. They are really kind and they even have a good sense of humor. On Tuesday, I went to get some water in the front yard from the torneira (water spout) but the water had been turned off by then… I guess the water system gets turned off in the late afternoon. Since the water wasn’t running minha Mae told me I would have to fetch my water from the well. The well is really deep so you have to lower a plastic container with a tied rope to the bottom and then pull it up once it feels full. During this new life lesson, I remember thinking “I’m a real volunteer now!” ahahah. And “I’m not in the palacio anymore!” When I carried my two buckets of water back to my house, my Mae and her sister laughed at my clumsiness and my obvious lack of water-fetching skills. I didn’t mind though. This fetching water situation is bound to give me some upper body strength.

On Tuesday, I also went in to my association and met my new colleagues. My association is a small community based org. and since they have limited funds, their staff is compromised of only 6 members (including the President and VP). Small, but from the sounds of it… these are women (and one man) that are dedicated to their work and actually care about the projects that they carry out.  On Tuesday, I spent most of my day at the office (which is a house they rent out) and just tried to get to know everyone. My association has an income generation project in which they make anatomically correct dolls to teach sex-ed/HIV prevention & such,… two of the members were working on this and I asked if I could help. I ended up sewing next to them for most of the day…

During lunch time, my supervisors invited me to eat with them and I accepted. We went into another one of the rooms in the house and sat down together to eat rice, couve (a typical Mozambican dish) and peixe seco (dried fish). That’s right. I ate peixe seco! I told them that I don’t normally eat fish but that I would try it. I ate it to be polite, but surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad. I don’t plan to eat it again, though…

Since I am new to the association and the community, we spent the next few days running around the community and into the city to present me to local leaders/authorities as the new PC Volunteer.

On Wednesday night, I met up with a few of the other volunteers in the city for dinner. Since it was a late reunion (and by late, I mean after sunset), I took a taxi from my house to the place were they were hanging out. Since Chimoio is a city, it’s not advisable that you walk around at night and especially not by yourself. Being the newbe in town and still cautious about my surroundings, I was a little nervous about this excursion, but it turned out fine. I took a taxi, stayed in a group, and shared a taxi back home with another volunteer. It’s cool to get together with other volunteers, but being social here in Mozambique seems like so much more work.

I remember when I use to go out at all hours of the night back home and now this concept seems so distant to me. I think to myself, “oh yea… I remember when I use to go to bars, clubs/etc after 10pm, and didn’t have to worry about getting robbed,” ahaha. I am so blatantly aware of the manner in which I am perceived here. I’ve never identified with any of the signifiers that are being imposed on me here- but here… I am white. I am rich. I am sometimes a ‘brasileira’ …I am a ‘Mozungu.’ And while we all know that my identity is much more complex than this… the people here are not interested in my identity issues. I am the ‘Other’ and while I am not new to this idea of being “the other” (immigrant, working class, etc), it’s still hard, if not harder to deal with in a place where you are no longer anonymous.

Sometimes I feel like a walking target. The truth of the mater is- many volunteers will experience some sort of theft. Whether its pick-pocketing, out right theft, burglary, etc. Although I nervous about this reality- I have kind of come to terms with it. If some fool wants to rob me on the street and take my cell phone/camera/whatever… ok, fine. You can have it. The truth of the matter is… yea, it would suck to get robbed. And yea, it would suck to have to replace this stuff … but at the end of the day- I WILL replace it, if it were stolen. Maybe not right away. But eventually. I will be able to buy another camera, cell phone, laptop, etc. The over-arching message from our security sessions (& statistics) was that people don’t really want to do you any harm, they just want your stuff. And from the conditions we’ve seen- it makes sense.

I don’t know. Let’s hope for the best.

Well, didn’t mean to end on such a low note- …which is not really a low note… just a realistic reflection. I have a feeling that there will be many of these to come.

Até ja.