Books and coconuts and cats

I’ve done a lot of moving around the past two and a half years. I’ve had three different host families on two different continents. Each time I arrive somewhere I feel like a child, having to learn how to do everything: how to speak, how to cook, how to take public transport, how to take a bath, how to eat. But this past month, when I moved to Machanga, it was different. This time, I had the advantage of being in Mozambique for a year already. I’ve surprised myself, and many others here, by what I’ve managed to learn over the past couple of years. For once, I didn’t feel like I was a child. Still an awkward teenager maybe, but not a child.  

 I know how to grate a coconut with ease. How many Canadians can say that?

Still learning to cook new things. This tiny fish
Chere Chende is quite common in Machanga

You make this fish into a sauce using
onions, tomatoes, and most importantly
coconut milk!

  I’m an old pro at washing my clothes by hand.

 After a year and 6 months in Mozambique, my portuguese is as good, if not better, than most people in Machanga. Now I just have to work on the local dialect which is much more important here than in the city.

 I know how to ride a motorcycle thanks to my time in Cambodia and Tete, a thing very few women here know how to do, and which gives me a lot of independence.

 Machanga has a very different climate than where I was last year in Tete. The staple here is rice instead of chima (maize porridge that you eat with your hands). When people in Machanga ask if I’ve ever eaten chima before I laugh and tell them it was the staple for lunch and dinner every day the whole year I was in Tete. They shake their heads and feel sorry for me!

Xima and beans, a staple in Tete. 

I am amazed at my own capacity to surprise myself when given the chance. My first Sunday at church in Machanga I managed to get in with the youth right away. I asked when practice was and convince them I could sing in the local language so long as someone took the trouble to pronounce the words slowly for me so I could write them down phonetically. On Sunday I sat on the choir benches up front with the youth. Turns out it was a special offering week, which involves different groups of people going up one at a time singing and dancing to bring their offerings to the front. This part was not rehearsed. However, I managed to sing along to a chorus I didn’t know in a language I can’t speak, dance along to steps I’d never practiced, and not feel the least bit shy or embarrassed. Better than that, I was having fun. In that moment I realized how far I’ve come in this last year. Singing and dancing in front of others at church doesn’t faze me. Although I’ll never lead the choir, I was able to let my reservation go, laugh, and BE there.

The United Church of Christ- American Board in Machanga

On Palm Sunday I learned another very valuable life-skill from the girls sitting beside me: how to braid palm leaves. Of course we also payed close attention to the sermon... 

 What is my point in all this? Certainly not to brag about my own abilities. If you think I would boast about my dance moves, you don’t know me dear reader. All of my accomplishments listed above I only ever achieved by the grace of God and patient help of kind friends. These past couple weeks have taught me to appreciate the value of these experiences, both positive and negative, that I’ve had. That tiny piece of dog meat I gagged down in Cambodia has given me so much street cred here in Mozambique. The most valuable ones don’t just happen to you; they come when you take risks, put yourself out there, and are vulnerable for the sake of others. The year of struggling along in the youth choir in Tete paid off- even though we are singing in different language in Machanga, the basic idea is the same and I can follow along. 
Experiences can be valuable in ways we’d never expect. I’ve learned to extend myself more grace during trying cross-cultural situations. Other people may not know me, but I know myself. Over the course of my life I've learned, to varying degrees, 8 different languages. There’s always room to learn, but no one can make me feel inferior for not trying hard enough.  I’ve traveled in 11 different countries on 5 continents and in the course of those travels I have learned what a privilege it is to have the opportunity to experience other cultures.

 Perhaps most importantly, I’ve discovered the things from my own culture that I really value. Things that I won’t compromise, things that I don’t apologize for. I have a cat in Machanga; my cat has a name, and I give her food and water in a bowl. I’m afraid of spiders, laugh about it, and accept that there are some things about me that will never change no matter how much I want them to. I value literature. Reading just for the sake of it is a strange concept to many here, probably due in large part to lack of access/opportunity. It has made me reflect on the immeasurable number of hours I’ve spent reading during the course of my life, and the culture and heritage that sits on my bookshelf in Machanga (how many pages have I dog-eared in my life Dad? Blog topic for you).

 Though my list of lifeskills may have expanded over the past couple years, making it easier for me to adapt to new situations, life in Machanga is not without its challenges. But that’s a topic for next time.

Snapshot of my some of the books from my bookshelf in Machanga, most inherited from past MCC'ers. Can you guess which four are mine? If you know Canadian Literature you've got half of them. And if you know my favourite pass-time that's another.