late night blogging

A year. It’s been over a year since I left home…. Over a year since I’ve seen my family. Since I’ve hugged my Mom, my brother, or my nephew…. It’s crazy to think that I’ve been in Africa (Mozambique, specifically) for a year now. This is the longest that I’ve ever been away from home and the longest time I’ve lived alone (10 months & counting!). I may not be a ‘perfect volunteer’ (what we call volunteers that just seem to be doing everything right- projects, integration, local dialect, etc.), and truthfully… this experience so far has taught me more lessons from failures than from successes.

Working here is hard. It’s hard for reason you can’t control. We come form a society and a culture in which we are use to being on control. We stem form an ideology that values self-determination and independence… We believe that we control the outcomes of our future though our own hard work and perseverance. We believe in punctuality and value good communication skills. We are straight-forward and have little patience for those who are not. “USA mode” is about productivity, efficiency… and at the end of the day- results. I won’t say that Mozambique is the opposite because I hate to generalize… but things here are drastically different and the culture shock does not always fade with time.

I would like to say that this year has made me more patient… but I won’t lie- It hasn’t. I am still extremely annoyed when people show up (45 minutes+) late to a meeting. My blood still boils when chefes (big shots/bosses that are on a power trip) try to cut me (you better believe I don’t stay quiet) at the ATM lines.. and I still roll my eyes when people give overly-verbose speeches that never seem to get to the point of anything. No, I’m not the perfect volunteer/Peace Corps poster child with infinite patience and fervent love for crianças (children)… but I am a million times more appreciative of all the seemingly small things I took for granted back home. I’d like to think that although I won’t change the world (much to my chagrin),  I’ve still learned some very important lessons- lessons that cannot be taught in a lecture hall or read in a textbook. Lessons that I would not have learned had I not gone through this experience. These lessons are woven deep into my being and they are lessons that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.