Where am I now?

So this past week has flown by. Last Tuesday, all 51 volunteers loaded up and said good-bye to Namaacha. The town and our families have served us well for the past ten weeks. They taught us how to cook, clean, and kill our dinner. In return we played with the crianças and contributed to their economy. Specifically the bars, bajias (small bean patties that are sold on the side of the road), and black cat (popular brand of peanut butter).

We traveled (almost) directly to the U.S. Ambassador's house for swear-in. The house was three stories, with a pool, and an ocean view. I almost fantasized about living in such a beautiful house some day... but the electric fence and armed guards are not as appealing.

We were checked in to our hotel by 2pm, then had the rest of the afternoon to explore Maputo. I went with a small group of friends to a small cafe that is popular among volunteers, Café do Sol . It took us twice as long to get there because the Chappa first took us to a place called Costo do Sol. We would have realized we were going to the wrong direction if the five of us weren't squished into the front standing room only part of the van. But when we finally made it, I saw a cafe that looked similar to a Panera Bread; it could have been picked out of Birmingham and placed in Maputo.

That night I spent giving hugs and telling people, whom I won't be seeing for another year, things I should have told them much earlier. I am truly lucky and proud to be a part of Mozambique 21 and when I was faced with the prospect of not seeing most of these people for a year, I definitely got teary eyed. I cannot wait to see the amazing things that these people will do.

The next morning, PCVs going to the North and Central flew out of Maputo. Central flew to Chimoio, Maneca and North (that's what group I'm in) flew to Nampula. This is the second time I've been to Nampula and it was just as beautiful as the first. When the plane starts to descend, these strange rock formations seem to pop out of the ground. I'm not sure what they're called; I don't think mountains is the right word because these aren't a gradual rise. The clouds were also perfect for our entrance. You could see these thick white clouds floating mid-air with their shadows covering the ground immediately underneath them. I felt like a giant in a playground; I could run from mountain to mountain, cloud to cloud without touching the ground. 

But in the human world, we had our Supervisor's Conference on Wednesday/Thursday/Friday. Everyone met a representative from their school and we worked together to develop a plan of action to integrate into our community. My roommate Kris, will also be working as an English Teacher at the IFP. We met a fellow professor and neighbor, Pie. He worked closely with the former volunteers and gave us a lot of insight as to what our expectations are and what the school will be like.

Emotionally, there were a lot of up and down moments this week. However, at this point, the night before my trip to Pemba, I'm feeling excited and motivated. Earlier today I saw 10 volunteers leave for their site and start their journey. Now I'm ready for mine.

At US Ambassador to Moçambique's house. 

Flying in to Nampula. I'm sorry this photo doesn't do it justice. 

What is training?

Training, formação, is what attracted me to the Peace Corps. Only ten weeks to learn a language an change the world? Sign me up! …. Seriously, how did I get this far in life?

In reality, formação can be boring, exciting, difficult, joyful, stressful, pointless, overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating.
The usual week begins with two - four hours of language at a classmate's house. Language is completely immersive. Our teachers only speak Portuguese with us and if we ask a question in English they stare at us like we're crazy. Our teachers also happen to be some of the best trained teachers in all of Mozambique, several have studied in South Africa. So, in reality they all speak English fluently. But for 10 weeks they pretend they can't speak a word.

Language is usually followed by two - four hours of Tech training. This is where we tackle topics like "Teaching large classes" (you just do it) and "Gender Differences in Mozambique." (They exist). These are done with the other English trainees. We all live in the same barrio, so we are able to walk. Occasionally we are visited by the Math Trainees. I'd say one of the biggest frustrations of PCT is not being able to get to know all of the trainees. Once you get to Namaacha you train for 10 hours a day with the same people that live in your barrio. The only time we see the Science trainees is during I.F.P. days. On these days everyone gets together at a local training school for teachers for large lectures from Medical, Security, and Core (general PC information). Usually, at the end of these days, I walk home positive that I will end up with AIDS, die in a knife fight. or be sent home for not wearing a seatbelt. Honestly, after working with community organizations of various sizes, I am very impressed with how thorough and organized training has been.

Every week we have two current Volunteers help facilitate training and be available to answer questions. This, by far, has been the most helpful part of PCT. Volunteers are able to give us information, advice, and stories to help shape our vague idea of what our future will be like.

Training (supposedly) finishes at 5:30 everyday. That gives me 2.5 hours to complete homework, relax, and tomar banho before dinner with the family. Not every training experience is the same, and (i've heard) that the family home stay is unique to Mozambique. This has been another facet of training that is irreplaceable. It has NOT been easy adjusting to living with a Mozambique. However, it's hard to argue against home cooked meals and guaranteed playmates. However, however, I will be glad to be at my own place (in less than a week!).

On Saturdays we usually have some sort of activity like painting a mural! These are usually over before noon (the mural was not), giving us plenty of time to walk around the neighborhood and enjoy our time in Namaacha.

So, that's the general outline of training. There's no silver bullet or magic spell to the language. Just when I think I'm improving, I get that blank stare from my host sister. It's a stare that kills any sort of pride or motivation. And just when I think I'll never get it, my Mae asks me to get her the broom and I do it without thinking.

Training moves so quickly, that I can't mull over mistakes or worries. It's a train chugging along on predetermined tracks. Climb aboard.



Love love love.

The Little Things

The last two weeks of training have been spent at Model School. For six days, eighty school age children have woken up before 7am, during their summer vacation, to listen to 51 American butcher Portuguese. What could be the benefit to all of this?

Cookies. What else?

I'm not sure how the students have felt these (quasi) two weeks, but I'm having a blast. Being in front of the classroom finally feels natural. Something has aligned in the universe and it's pointing towards a blackboard. Four other English trainees and I were assigned the ninth grade. We have all taught atleast 3 classes. Ninth grade tends to be smaller then eighth and tenth because there are no national exams for the ninth grade. So I guess my five students really like cookies. I have already become attached to them. I brag about their progress, the jokes they make, and their good behavior. I have one student that speaks fluent English; she's originally from South Africa. I asked her the first day, "Why are you here? Do you have a volunteer for a brother or sister?" " No," she replied, "I just want to learn more."

whoa.

Today was the last day of Model School. We passed back our seven question test, certificates, and more cookies to the students. Then we just got to hang out and chatted with them. Of course, my Portuguese being the way it is, I wasn't able to have the best conversations, but at the same time the students were very patient with me and we were able to talk about Namaacha, America, and where I'll be living in Mozambique. Several students really cared about their grades, even though it has no effect of their actual school grade. There was a genuine interest to learn from every student, no matter the grade they earned.

             Students reviewing their test scores. 

These test have zero affect on their actual school grades. 

Escola Modela 9a Turma A 

I hope this doesn't sound too much like bragging, but I have to mention this. Two of my students (top picture) wrote me the nicest letters! One was from the student mentioned earlier, and another from a lower-level student that I hadn't talked with outside of class. I cannot believe how thoughtful those girls are! It really shows you that you never know where, when, or how you will impact someones life.

Love love love

Site Announcements

At this moment I have 4 other drafts waiting to be finalized and published for this blog. I want to tell people about training, site visits, and education in Mozambique, but right now there's only one thing on my mind. Site announcements. 

Tomorrow all 51 trainees will learn what community they will live and work in for the next two years. I'm nervous, excited, impatient, and terrified.

One year and four months ago I signed up to go wherever and whenever I was needed. For a year, I structured my life around this moment. I quit a full time job and worked 3 part time jobs to make ends meet. I moved with my parents, sold my car, and said so many goodbyes. I've sat through hours of tech training and lingua. I did all this to dedicate two years to a community  I don't know. And tomorrow I'll be given an envelope with the name of my new home. 

This day has shadowed the whole week. On Monday we had interviews with an APCD (Area Peace Corps Director) and turned in a 5 question survey on our preferences. The moment I was given the questionnaire I wished I hadn't received it. Why have us create expectations after training us not to have expectations? Until I filled out this survey I had no idea urban sites were even a possiblity. You mean electricity and running water are options?! The last question on the survey was, "If you had a magic wand to have anything at your site to make you happy, what would it be?" UGH. Well, I know bringing my nephew to Moçambique isn't an option so I ended up putting down " easy to travel to and from". The rest of the survey I left blank or gave vague answers. I can't say that I joined the peace corps because I have strong opinions about what I want to do. 

In the end, I gave up to the ability to choose where I live because I just want to go here I'm needed. 

As a reminder of why i'm here, Here's a picture of kids getting ready for breakfast at a local orphanage. That's also another blog post I'm working on.

Love love love 

Small Victories

I've heard over and over again that surviving in Peace Corps is all about lowering expectations. This isn't meant to be a bad thing. What's happening is that our lofty goals of changing the world are smacked around by reality. Goals go from erasing illiteracy in Maputu to passing 70% of your 10th graders. Ya know, things that are actually possible.

For me, the biggest struggle/fear is language. I really believed that the magical Peace Corps training would have me fluent by the end of 10 weeks in a language I knew VERY little. Now, with the training almost half way over, my expectations are going to have to change. Maybe I won't be fluent by the end of 10 weeks, but I'll be able to give lessons, or at least with a script. I won't be able to talk about philosophy, but I'll ask about the weather, or maybe, I'll be able to buy food. Maybe I'll be fluent after 1 months in service. 6 months? A year?

The point is, I don't know. Fluency is this transient thing between me and happiness. Every time I think I'm progressing, I'm faced with another word I don't know, or pronunciation I keep forgetting, or conjugation I mess up.

Rather than be overwhelmed by the impossibility of fluency within 10 weeks, I'm deciding to celebrate the small stuff. For example, today I bought phone credit by myself. Usually, this is a simple process of just finding a guy wearing a yellow vest, saying "vodacom" and handing him 50 MT. BUT this time was different. I found out our neighbor sells credit, so rather than walk all the way over to the Supermercado, I can go next door. BUT it's not that simple. I've discovered that our "neighbor" is actually a small village, and there's about 5 small houses behind a large house. (Who knew?!) I'm sure you're dying to know how I pulled off this very do-able task.

First, I asked my sister what's the name of our neighbor that sells credit. Como se chama nosso vencina que vende credito?

After asking her to repeat the name, I asked if she knew if the neighbor was home and if I could visit her. Conhece si esta ale? Esta bom si eu visita?

M replied that it was fine, and after repeating the name (I've forgot it) I walked over. I passed the large fence and entered through the driveway. It looks like your average house until you pass the garage and see a stretch of cement houses; then your realize it's an entire community.

I saw a woman washing laundry. Before asking if the neighbor was here, I did the obligatory hello how are you questions. Ola, como esta? Tudo bem aqui. Obrigada. Eu estou a buscar para "Name". Eu prefero comprar credito.

The woman very clearly said "She's right here," and from behind a corner out popped the neighbor that sells credit. I had met her once before with my irmao. She came over to me and asked what I needed. Tem doscentos para Vodacom? I spoke in a complete sentence!!

I even introduced myself as we completed the transaction and went on my merry way. It was a simple conversation but I had no friend, no mae, no irmao to step in if I need them. Victory!

Love love love

P.S. Sorry for the missing accents. My teacher would not be very happy right now, but I don't know how to type them in blogspot, or word. I'm working on it :)

How to Take a Bath.

I bet you thought you knew how to take one. You probably thought you mastered this basic need back in elementary school. However, I'm here to tell you, you have no idea how to take a bath.

First, is to get over this.

Be it a rusty indoor tub, or outdoor basin. That is where you are taking a bath. Be there toad, cockroach, or big-ass spider. This is where you are taking a bath.

Next, is to heat your water. My preferred method is to not be the first person up. Others have learned to start a fire and wait.

Third, you grab the hot panela with a burned, faded rag, while your Mae repeats "Cuidado, cuidado" as you pour the boiling water into your bacia (basin). Also, don't think about the last time the basin was cleaned, or what it was used to clean.

Fourth, set the basin down in the tub and balance your towel and clothes on the shelf. Pray all of your things don't go tumbling into the dirty toilet water.

Fifth. Fill your copo (or the bottom half of a pop bottle) with your bath water and rinse hair and body. Soap, Soap, Soap and more Soap.

Sixth, repeat rising technique.

Seventh, scrub feet on the rock you found in the driveway.

Eight, wrap up in your towel, covering your shoulders with a kapulana if necessary. You're living with a family after all.

Finally, if you don't feel that clean, remember that here in Mozambique, tomar um banho (to take a bath) is done before breatfast and dinner, so you've got another bath in about 10 hours!

That's it! Happy Bathing!

Things Mozambique Has Not Changed About Me

Whether it's a good thing or not, I think all people who uproot their lives in order to move to a place known for poverty and illiteracy (amongst other amazing, positive things, but not my point right now) must want something to change. And when we (I) dramatically change our (my) surroundings, it's most likely because we are looking to change, or improve, ourselves.

Yet, going into my third week of training, there are a few traits of mine that I can't seem to shake. Which leads me too…

Top 10 Things Mozambique Has Not Changed About Me

10. I still root for the Detroit Tigers - Even at 5 am in the morning.

9. I'm uncomfortable in large groups. Doesn't seem to matter what language they're speaking.8. I loose/steal pens. I came with 3 from the hotel in Maputo and the one (ONE!) the PC gave us. I'm down to one I stole from a friend.

7.I can't seem to wake up early enough to do yoga. Yet I am up early enough to tomar cha (take tea).

6.I don't look where I'm going. Despite the chapas and lack of sidewalk.

5. I still don't iron my clothes the night before. When will I learn?

4. I'm still not the cool sister. My irmao: "Do you have a soccer ball?" Me: "No" Irmao: "Do you have games on your computer?" Me: "No" Me: "Do you want to read children's books with me?"

3. I still don't put my things away or close drawers/suitcases. Even after I found a toad in my room.

2. I still have to return to the house at least twice before finally leaving for school because I forgot my keys, water bottle, textbook, etc.

And, THE NUMBER ONE THING MOZAMBIQUE HAS NOT CHANGED ABOUT ME...

1. I still don't speak Portuguese. Working on that.

Engluese

I'm now in the middle of my second week in Namaacha.

Things are going as well as can be expected. I haven't had to kill my food. I haven't exposed myself to my host family. And, I haven't asked for more balls instead of tomatoes. I even feel confident that I will be speaking Portuguese by the end of my 10 weeks.

Right now it's more of a combination, English+ Portuguese= Engluese. (If you haven't figured that out.) I am very lucky to have a great teacher and to work in a small group. In fact, it's just me and one other person. I think you can guess what level I'm in from that piece of information.

When I'm not in language classes, or sitting through a large PC meetings, I'm hanging out with my host family. My Mae (mom) is a retired teacher. She is very patient with me and really tries to understand my broken Portuguese. I have two older sisters that work outside of the house; L is a teacher and C is a janitor. The two of them occasionally talk to me, but more than once our conversations have ended with "No Entendo" and we both just leave it at that.

There are also 3 younger kids in the house Lay (10), E (8) and D (5). Lay has started to speak with me more, but our conversations usually end with him asking if I have something for him. FIrst it was playing cards, then a laptop (just to see, not to have), and lastly was a soccer ball. I didn't have the last one; we haven't talked lately. I cannot understand a word that D says and whenever I speak he shrieks with laughter.

E didn't not say one word to me for the entire first week. Which of course means I made it my goal to be best friends with her before I leave. She does answer my questions now, and she even came into my room to read a book with me. Progress!!

It's hard to spend much time with my host family though. The Peace Corps schedules so much of my day it's hard to really sit and comprehend what a different world I'm in. Occasionally I'll get these small, fleeting moments when I remember I'm in Africa. That I am over 9,000 miles away from home and it will be 2 years before I can hug my mom again. Moments like when I'm waking up to the sounds of dogs barking and my Mae sweeping the yard. Or when I'm mixing cold water into the hot water heated for my bath. These moments always sneak up on me, but I'm always glad to be reminded of the dramatic change I've made. And to feel like this was the best decision to make.

I'll end with this. Please send me emails! I want to know what's going on with my friends and family. Access to the internet depends on a lot of things. For example, I now have of a modem, but my computer is about to lose it's charge. But there is only one available outlet in the house (and that's a long story). So send emails so I still feel apart of your lives!

Love Love Love

Rayna

Primer Dia

Around 10am on Saturday, September 28, 50 PCTs were stuffed into 3 Chapas and driven to Namaacha (Na-maa-sha). A small town 2 hours west of Maputo, Namaacha will be our home for the next 10 weeks.

On the ride over, we saw what anyone else could see from a movie about Africa. Chaotic drivers on trash ridden streets. Women dressed in a mix of traditional and modern clothing. Men working on houses, at food stands, or begging.

At one point, after at least an hour of road and trees, we found ourselves in a city. Everyone immediately noticed a two story business building that stretched half a block. The architecture seemed old, but it's most stunning feature was that it was completely burnt hollow. As someone who called Detroit home, even I was shocked at the amount of decay of such a large building in the middle of a bustling center.

"That's from the war." Someone called out. So decay isn't the right word, maybe "destruction"?

No, this is definitely not Detroit.

After miles and miles of cinder block homes and burnt buildings, I began to wonder what exactly "safe" and "secure" meant to the Peace Corps. Would I be living in a one room block with 6 other people? Would I be sleeping on a dirt floor? Would I have a lock on my door? Will I have a door?

Thankfully, I was with a great group of people. On the way we practiced Portuguese. Our collective nervousness turned into laughter at our awful accents. Here we are amongst people who we don't have to "explain ourselves" too. We are applied for this crazy job, no need to defend ourselves.

--------

Unlike everything else in the PC, when we got to Namaacha things moved very quickly. As I fell out of the champa, I could see a line of families all holding up a white slip of paper on it with a name. One of our names. Our fearless PCV Trainer "L" told us to find our names and go home.

After a few moments I found my host Mae. From our morning discussion I was expecting (read: hoping) for the two check kisses and moved my head slightly to the left, however I just received a light hug. There was a young boy with her so I asked "Come se chama?" "L" they responded. That was the best Portuguese I spoke all day.

As we walked the large group of people quickly thinned out. As our group decreased to 5 families, my host mom started pointing to all the PCTs and saying "neighbor" - but I Portuguese, I just can't remember the word. - During the walk we learned that we would walk to school together and who would pick up whom. I am fourth on the list.

As I went through the door I met my oldest host sister, "M", third youngest sister "C". Later I met the youngest brother, "D" and the youngest sister "E". D is five years old and very chatty. I can understand him better than anyone else. I understand about every tenth word. C also speaks very slowly to me, which I appreciate.

I think C is a little sassy. When I asked if I could help clean "Ayudo limpiar?" C said to her sister (not me) "Esperana pouco" which I THINK means "I hope a little" However, by the time I figured out a response (Espero tamem!) she was out of the room.

After helping clean I went to my room and translated some questions to ask my Mae.. Ever so patiently, she explained what time I should wake up (6 or 7- I think 7), where to throw away my trash, where to put my water filter, how to use it, and how to make bath water. It was a long process mostly done through pointing and trail and error, but I got an answer for most questions.

I ended off the evening watching cartoons with the kids and drinking tea (tocar cha). It's only 7:30pm, but I'm am TIRED. Even though I can hear the shrinking laugher of the kids, and chatter of the woman, I think I will fall asleep as soon as I stop typing.

Moral of the story: I feel calm. I feel happy.I feel safe.

Love Love Love

Rayna

The Calm before the Storm

Today we finally meet our host family. All of us PCTs (T for Trainee aka NOT VOLUNTEER YET) are living in two Barrios that are said to be close to each other. I'm staying with a family of 6, one being a 30 year old woman, who's a teacher! I'm very excited/nervous/anxious/all those types of feelings.

Mostly, though, I feel calm. I haven't felt this calm in at least a month. I'm here. I've made it. This sense of peace started when we landed in South Africa. Even after Skype calls with the family, and Security training with the Embassy, I am still feeling like this was the right choice to make.

Time to get this started.

Saying Goodbye

I've said goodbye a lot this month. I've said goodbye to people I've known for 6 months, and people I've known my whole life. Each time it takes a bit out of me.

My parents were wonderful enough to give me a going away party (which happened to land on my 25th birthday, but one topic per post). There I gave hugs, opened presents, and cried. I was emotionally drained at the end of the night, but I also felt loved. Which is all anyone really wants. I felt loved and supported and every time I think about the friends I've so luckily made over the years, I know I'll be ok.

Now, a little less than a month after my party, I've had to say goodbye to my family. It's difficult, it literally feels as if someone is taking a wrench to my gut and squeezing.

So, even though every goodbye is growing more difficult, I'm glad that each of my friends and family have a bit of me to keep.

Goodbye. Adeus!

P.S. - On a positive note, no goodbye is every really final. I am really looking forward to keeping in touch with all my friends and family!

Communication is Key

Several people have asked how to keep in touch with me while I'm away and, like many questions, I'm not sure of the best answer. Internet seems to available for many PCVs in Mozambique, but not guaranteed. Even if it is available, there's no telling what programs will end up working best. So, here I will list all of the potential ways that we can keep in contact, but know that these will most likely change.

If you can, download Whatsapp and Viber - these are apps that work with your phone number and allow you to text/call internationally for free. As soon as I get a phone number in Moz, these apps might be helpful.

Facebook (duh)

Email (best for now) - rleeketchum@gmail.com

Skype: rayna.ketchum

Mail (September 27-December ?) -
          Rayna Ketchum, PCV
          Corpo Da Paz/US Peace Corps
          Avenida Zimbabwe 345
          C.P. 4398
          Maputo, Mozambique

Love you all! Please send stories and pictures of life at home!

- Rayna

Why I joined…

I'm not sure my previous post put my journey to Mozambique in the most positive light, so here is a not-so comprehensive list that I threw together - and keep editing every time I look at it so I'm just going to publish it now - about why I joined the Peace Corps.

1. To become fluent in another language.
2. To challenge myself.
3. To learn community development skills.
4. To put on a grad school application (no more student loans for me)
5. To live in another culture.
6. To understand the idea of culture in a new way. (And then understand myself a bit better)
7. To face my fears…and I don't like roller coasters.
8. To feel a sense of accomplishment.
9. To say that I lived without running water or electricity.
10. To be in a situation where I must trust strangers.
11. To learn how to wash clothes by hand.
12. To teach a class of 60 students.
13. To spend 15 hours sitting on my ass doing nothing.
14. To hug my family when I get back.
15. To eat food I never knew existed.
16. To have a going away party with a small but amazing group of friends.
17. To have no regrets.
18. To have an adventure.
19. Because my gut told me to.

My first post related to the Peace Corps

For a second I almost forgot my emotions. It's amazing how Facebook instantly seduced me into the neverending flow of status updates. Before I opened my computer, I was feeling the most intense pain and fear; the worst I've felt since making this decision over a year ago. Am I making the right choice? Will this make me happier? Will my nephew forgive me for leaving him? Does he understand? Am I leaving for the right reasons?

A year ago, when I officially turned in my application, I was unhappy. I had recently quit an awful job and had no future prospects. I was in a relationship that, even though I am thankful for, had long surpassed its expiration date. In simplest terms, without seeking pity, I was unhappy.

So -  I made a different decision. I joined the Peace Corps. Well, really I applied and 5 months later I was officially accepted. But, let's face it, I was gonna get in. The day that I finally turned in a completed application, I felt nothing. No excitement, no fear. Maybe a bit of anticipation, but really I was still exhausted from the previous school year. I was mostly numb.

Preparing for my interview added a bit of excitement, made the situation seem a bit more real. But only a bit. After all, I didn't wear any shoes for my interview and to the right of my computer screen was a pile of dirty laundry. A week after my interview I was officially accepted and my only thought was Ok, they really did receive my application and that interview wasn't a dream. But that feeling of tangibility was fleeting (transient?) because I had to wait another 4 long months for an invitation. Again, doubts about my placement surfaced. Did my file get lost behind a desk, under a rug? What would I do if no placement was found before September? The later was a favorite question of my parents. One of many questions that I had no answer for.

That invitation did come, and after that many emails and deadlines.  My to-do list got longer very quickly. It's still long, but now I have less distractions. And now, 1 month and 15 days before I leave I am having doubts. Like my parents questions these doubts surfaced in a sneak attack. While  driving home after a fun relaxing night with a friend, my stomach churned and I thought, I'm happy now.  I don't have to go if I don't want to.

And there it was. I'm happy now. The thought was thought and there is no way to unthink it.

I'm still not sure what to do about this thought. But I do know that in 1 month and 15 days I'm going to get on a plane and not come back home for two years. I also know that the reason I have this problem is because one year ago I made a decision that made me happy, and I continued to make more decisions that made me happy.  I accepted two amazing jobs: one for an amazing after-school program, and another as an ESL tutor. I moved home with my family and accepted a third job at a yoga studio. I ended my one relationship and invested time in my friendships. I did lots of yoga and color runs.

Earlier today, I practiced Portuguese as my nephew practiced the piano. I took a moment to realize how happy I was to hear him play, and how happy I was to be learning a new language. That was a good moment.

-----------------------------------

I can't leave this post alone. I should be done. Doesn't it just sound beautiful to leave it as "That was a good moment"? If I knew how to edit I would just leave it as is. But something is bothering me. I don't feel like I'm telling you everything. Do you see what I'm not saying? If I was unhappy then,  does that mean I applied because I was unhappy? Therefore, if I am happy now, I should not go?

That can't be good. That can't be healthy.

So these two thoughts won't leave me alone. I was unhappy. Now I'm happy. There they are. I was here. Now I'm leaving. There it is.

----------------------------------

After rereading this post I've realized something positive. I'm no longer numb. Yes, I'm sad to leave my family, friends, jobs, and the positive life that I've built over this year. But that's a good thing! I'm extremely lucky to have such an amazing opportunity in Mozambique. And, I am extremely lucky to feel such gut-wrenching sadness when I think of having to say goodbye to my family and friends.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that.