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.
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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
