Remember me?

Nineteen months ago I said good-bye to my friends and family. Today I received my Close-of-Service date. This has sent a minor shock wave throughout the Moz 21 group. I'm sure kayak and travelocity are seeing a spike is searches out of Maputo. I certainly added to that spike.

The date is December 11, 2015. That's at least when I'll officially be an RPCV, not the date I'll be returning to the US. That's still TBD

I've been pretty silent on the blog, so, in light of knowing when I'm leaving, here's a little bit about what I'm currently doing.

Grades are submitted and I'm working through recuperação, the week where students, who haven't learned anything for the past 13 weeks, are expected to learn everything. Magically, they do. In the United States, this is referred to as summer school.

Students using "word brochures" to practice project-based learning 

Planning a Workshop for REDES. This involves something I've always hated: talking to strangers. In portuguese! Calling drivers, hotel owners, school directors. YUCK. But, it also adds a sense of accomplishment to my day.

Still organizing the library. This will be a never ending process.

I'm at the mission every afternoon. Monday - REDES. Tuesday - Grassroots Soccer, Wednesday -Biblioteca Wiwanana (Library of Understanding).

I'm enjoying the routine. But, I feel a familiar pull ...




love love love

Poetry

In portuguese,

if you want to leave a meeting,

      you don’t sair,

              you fugir,

meaning        

              to escape.

Adeptly used in the phrase,

“She escaped the curriuculum meeting.” 

There’s no confusion between Can I and May I

because there is

              Estou a pedir

meaning                 
             I am asking for

which results in

never asking for

but really

              I am informing you that I am asking for.

       Luck is sorte

and 

      sorte is child

so, naturally

in Mozambique,

a child is lucky

a child  of emakua,

                             skimokondi,

                                           chitswa,

                                                       shangaan,*

 lucky to speak the Língua Materna

that’s the

                               Mother Tongue

because

Language isn’t just the words you speak

                                                  or think.

It’s what Raises you. 

* 4 of the 43 local languages spoken in Mozambique 

Condoms and Christmas

Friday 3am

I’m sitting on my porch with my new capulana yoga bag (with a matching headband), packed with only the essentials for my trip to Monapo, Nampula. I’m on my way to a REDES conference; my first time traveling solo in Mozambique. I’m waiting for the motorista, Javiar, who very kindly offered a boleia when he heard I was leaving. Classess were canceled and I am armed with 60 papers to read on the 8 hour bus ride. I am ready.

Notice the new head band! 

Friday 11am

I arrive in Monapo! The actual bus ride was not very eventful. I traveled on a bus similar to that of a greyhound, just imagine 50 people standing in the aisle. No sleep was had, nor papers graded. I spent most of the time trying to balance on the pleather seats (nylon capris+ pleather seats+ Mozambican roads = a slippery ride). In Namialo, I ran into three other PCVs on the way to the conference and together we boleiad to Monapo. Pretty smooth trip!

Friday 5pm

At dinner I met the rest of the group that arrived for the REDES Training. In total there were 7 PCVs and 4 Mozambicans. All here to learn about how to help young women in Mozambique.

Saturday 8am

So, what the heck is REDES? First, pronounced red-ish, it stands for Rapariga em Desenvolvimento, Educaçao e Saúde/ Girls in Development, Education, and Health. Basically, they are groups of young women that meet in order to help young girls develop positive and healthy futures. There is specific information about sex education and HIV/AIDS prevention that must be taught, but everything else depends on the unique girls that form the group. REDES can be centered around a sports team, creative arts, or a business. Whatever gives the girls positive self-esteem and motivation to attend. I have spoken with some Nuns at a local missionary about working with students that come to their after-school group. To make sure I know what the heck I’m talking about, there was a nice review of sex ed. Yes, there were pictures, condoms and a wooden dildos involved. Honestly, I’ve been to a lot of training – a LOT of training- in my day and this was one of the best. Every topic was informative and necessary. Sessions were energetic and engaging.

I, on the other hand, was not energetic or engaging. The sessions were 100% in Portuguese and that was freaking tiring. I’m a little embarrassed to say it, but I’m actually proud of how well I was able to follow the training. I expected it to be a lot worse. It just required so much attention that to contribute to the discussion was too much. For most sessions I felt as if a glass wall separated me from everyone else. Making the sound travel slowly and slurred. I only understood everything right as we were moving on to the next topic. But, I am not depressed, if anything I am more motivated then ever on improving my Portuguese. My REDES group will be lead in Portuguese, so I better figure it out soon!

Saturday 5pm

While still behind my glass wall, I see a Peace Corps car driving past the window (which, ironically, had no glass in it). There were rumors that Dr. Carlos would show up and give us all flu shots. Gotta love Peace Corps medical benefits because, not only did he come with shots, he brought packages!! The joy of receiving a package is nothing like what I have experienced before. Especially when I was still under the assumption that this package was hidden in the dark, damp cellar of the Maputo Office. I finally received my package that my father sent in December! Even though I knew all the contents of the package, I opened it like a kid on Christmas morning. Myself, and my friends, N, JR, and J all received Christmas packages. I know this is corny but the room was filled with love. Being away from home is hard. Not occasionally, not sometimes, but all the time. Every moment of every day I miss my family. It’s just a hardship that I choose to live with. So, to receive these packages, for a little bit that burden lessens; we’re reminded that we’re not forgotten.  

Sunday 8pm

The training went by quickly, and still blurred by the glass window. I was grouchy all day with a sour throat and runny nose. At lunch time I hurriedly ate in order to get as much of a nap as possible. And, unlike Saturday night, I was not elated by my Christmas package. I awkwardly left the dinner table coughing out some goodbyes and bom viagems to people I would not see again for a long time, and made my way back to J’s house. The plan was to put on my pjs and just relax. I was over Portuguese, and I was over people. Thirty minutes later, everyone showed up at J’s. You can imagine my inner-dialogue, but I ended up having some good conversation (in Portuguese) and listening to music. Finally, people started to leave and I was left with a small group of friends.

And then N said something magical, “Who wants to watch a movie and drink hot chocolate?”

Then J said, “I’ve got popcorn but I always burn it.”

Then I said, “I can make kettle corn.”

Then JR said “I’ve got Frozen.”

And, that is (not exactly, but you get the gist) how Christmas in April became The Best Christmas Ever. 

Monday 4:45am

I’m awoken by S from Namuno standing over me. “Oh shit, that was my alarm that went off.” The day before I had told S that I would get up at 4:30 and to come over whenever she was ready to leave. Oops. I’m not going to chat about the details of the travel, but just know that it was not as smooth as the first trip. I took 3 different chapas and paid 20mts more. I learned that when a child suffers from car sickness they suck on a match and rub black shit in their mouth. I did get peanuts and a banana from two nice women. I returned the favor with suckers that my parents sent from home.

Monday 4:30pm

I got back to Pemba at 3pm. I traded the gossip with K and by 4:30pm I was laying down for a quick nap before grading the papers I never graded.

Tuesday 5:30 am

A text from a friend wakes me up from the nap. It takes three different clocks to convince me that it’s 5:30 am the next day. I contemplate canceling class in order to grade the papers. But no, classes were already canceled last Friday. My students need some English.

Tuesday 8:30

I shuffled my way to class still complaining of a stuffy nose and the figurative burden of ungraded papers. Not wanting to deal with the frustrations of group work, I decided to do a listening activity for the first part of class and tell my students about REDES. I gave candy if they asked me a question. By the end of the day, I was offered help to lead a REDES group with neighborhood kids, asked to start a REDES group at the IFP, and was out of Dum-Dums. 

Not a bad day. 

Love Love Love 

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.

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.

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.