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Monday, September 19, 2011

Kittens!!!

So what do I actually do here?

The question I am most frequently asked (followed closely by, “Have you seen any animals?,” which other than the chickens, ducks, pigs, and goats of my neighbors is a no). Also a difficult question to answer, as my work as a Peace Corps Volunteer is pretty unstructured.

Generally speaking, I work with 2 small organizations, one community-based organization and one faith-based, in the area of public health. I attend meetings and participate in programs, like home visits or children’s activities. My role is mainly to build capacity; to strengthen both organizations so they can better assist the vulnerable populations in the community. So far, this has meant a lot of organizational development (creating forms, improving meetings, assisting with planning). I also help to train members in various areas (health information, monitoring & evaluation, basic business skills). I hope to culminate this work by helping both organizations to design well-planned projects, apply for funds, and manage the projects effectively. For example, one of my organizations is currently discussing various ideas for an income-generation project for its members (ideas include sewing school uniforms or raising chickens).

Beyond this, I do some other work in the community. I give English lessons and will help students prepare for the high school English national exams. I run a youth group for girls as part of a nationwide program called REDES and hope to take on a very active role on the national level this year. Finally, I spend a lot of time with kids in general, coloring or baking or just hanging out. And if all else fails, I walk around the market, visit people, read, or fulfill my duties as a crazy cat lady.

Back in Africa!

A hurricane couldn’t stop my return to Mozambique. Neither could accusations of importing tampons and daily contact lenses for sale at customs (Megan Lawless, International Tampon Smuggler would make an awesome business card). But I made it back, and there’s no culture shock like going from complimentary roast beef sandwiches served on an hour-long flight (the Jo’burg – Maputo connection) to being mobbed by chapa drivers, fighting for the attempt to rip off your white ass, in Junta (a giant chapa/bus park). I’ve been back at site for a few weeks now and have readjusted, but it’s amazing how different life is, just a couple plane rides away.

Signs I knew I was back in Mozambique:

  • Hearing myself yell “LIE!” in someone’s face (those chapa drivers couldn’t rip me off)
  • Having my aforementioned sass result in a marriage proposal
  • Bruising on my knees from chapa rides (too tall)
  • Being told repeatedly, by every acquaintance in Macia, that I “disappeared and got fat”
  • Having to physically carry kids out of my house to get them to leave
  • Being regularly mocked for bathing daily (which I see as an accomplishment) only

Ants in My Pants (or Lack Thereof)

One night, half-asleep and desperate, I ran out to my latrine. I had barely sat down however, when I immediately yelped and leaped off the cement seat. Fire ants. Hundreds of them. All over the seat and now all over the places one least wants to be bit. Apparently they had started some sort of invasion during the night, as they were all over the bathroom as well as kitchen. I ripped my pants off and just stood there in shock. Should I try to kill them? Shit in a bucket? Risk falling in by squatting on top of the toilet? Finally, I straddled the damn thing, on my tip-toes (the floor was also covered with them). And for good measure, I even peed. Completely upright. Like a dude, but facing away from toilet as ants nipped at my toes. The silver lining, though, is that when someone has some inane complaint about their life in America, I can respond, “Oh that sucks you were mildly inconvenienced. I was sexually assaulted by fire ants,” and smirk, in true Lawless fashion.

Circle of Life

I had a lot riding on my cat’s pregnancy. I had proclaimed it to all of Macia at week 3, so when Simba continued not to show, at all, for the next month, my credibility was on the line. I regularly say things that people are skeptical of, like “Yes, I eat potatoes without peeling them; they have more nutrients that way,” or “No, a person won’t get sick if they go more than a few days without having sex.” I usually get a discerning look that says all too clearly, “The white girl must be crazy,” but at least it starts a discussion. However, if Simba didn’t have any pão in her oven after all, I would take a serious blow.

Thankfully, when I got back from America, Simba was, as fellow volunteer described, a “watermelon cat.” And a week later, I came dangerously close to having to scrub placenta out of my coworker’s clothes. She wanted to give birth in my counterpart/host dad’s closet, but upon seeing a sac poking out, I grabbed her and sprinted to my house just in time. Thus, on Wednesday, September 7th, the anniversary of the Lusaka Accords (which granted Mozambique independence from Portugal), 4 precious kittens were born. They all appear to be thriving, though Simba honestly does not look too thrilled with motherhood. When she returned one afternoon to her kittens, all crying and climbing all over her, she shot me a look that clearly said, “Fuck.” I had tried to keep her away from the dude cats (not even joking, I would throw rocks when they were hanging around, not to hit but to scare them), but this pregnancy is just further evidence that abstinence-only education fails.

REDES Conference

The REDES conference was, hands down, my favorite week in Mozambique so far. As I’ve previously mentioned, REDES, which stands for Raparigas em Desenvolvimento, Educação, e Saúde (Teen Girls in Development, Education, and Health), is a nationwide program in Mozambique run by Peace Corps Volunteers and some Mozambican women. Annually, there is a conference in each region, and each group can send 2 girls, a Mozambican facilitator, and Peace Corps Volunteer (if applicable; there are independent groups as well). After some difficulty getting caretaker permission (I later learned people were concerned it was ruse to steal their daughters), the 4 of us loaded onto a bus packed with singing girls to Barra, Inhambane, a beautiful beach in a neighboring province.

The conference, which felt like overnight camp and reminded me greatly of Camp Dreamcatcher (if you live in the Mid-Atlantic area, look it up and volunteer as a counselor for the weeklong camp for kids infected or affected by HIV/AIDS), was a great success. Each day had a theme (self-esteem, health, education/planning for the future, women’s rights, and development) that included various sessions led by Mozambican facilitators. Additionally, there was a skills session each day led by volunteers (Mozambican facilitators had a training session during this). I led the nutrition session in which the girls learned the basic food groups and made peanut butter. My real claim to fame, however, was for “pulling the potato,” a Mozambican dance move that I have no problem making a fool of myself attempting to perform. I may have even jumped over a chair at one point to partake. Clearly, I had a blast and cannot wait for conference next year. And since I did in fact return with the girls, caretakers have already given advance permission for next year.