My Favourite Things

How many times have I been asked the question, “ What is your favourite thing about your work overseas?” And how many times have I given the same predictable, unrevealing answers, “Oh, I like working with the communities, the way I’m always learning and growing, getting to use my interests in science in a way that really helps people.”

To get good answers, you have to ask good questions. When a child is in school, it is common to ask them, “What is your favourite subject?” Sure, if you don’t know them at all, this is a great place to start, and will give you an idea of their general interests. “I like science.” My father used to ask me every day after school, “What did you learn today?” This question demands thought every time and has a different answer every time. It reveals what really made an impression on me, what was of great interest and worth remembering, and why it was memorable. “Today we were learning about thermo dynamics in chemistry class and made ice cream by putting a ziplock bag of milk in a container of ice and salt. Now I’ll never be able to eat ice cream without thinking about heat capacity.” 

When people ask me what is my favourite thing about my work, I rarely have a chance to tell the stories; the stories that get to the core of why I love what I do. “What is it about working in with the communities in Mozambique that you enjoy so much? How has your understanding of development; community; religion; politics; truth; happiness; family been shaped by your experiences? What is it about your work that you look forward to every day? What did you learn today?"

I want to take some time today to share with you some of my “favourite things”. These things are too small, too seemingly insignificant on their own to earn a place in a response so broad as “the favourite thing about my work”. But these are the true, deeply meaningful experiences from my agriculture work in rural villages that I will carry with me always.

I feel so welcomed when community members remember me by name and greet me in their local dialect. It is my favourite thing when I return to Maule Maule and someone asks me where I’ve been for the past three weeks and then takes me to show how things are going in their garden.

It is my favourite thing when a kid climbs up the closest maçanica tree, shakes the branches, and I get to join everyone in picking up and eating the fruit.

It is my favourite thing to share an inside joke with my colleagues. 

It is my favourite thing when I get to show people that I’m actually just a normal person too. Maybe normal is a stretch, but when a group of people were digging a pit in the river bed to access water for irrigating their vegetables, I took my turn with the shovel too, to the surprise of many. In the hot of the afternoon I can fall asleep on the ground under a tree with the best of them. Just because I've not yet mastered the art of carrying water on my head doesn't mean I've never watered a garden before. Eating with my hands? No electricity? No big deal. Sadly, I somehow don't have many pictures of me being normal, but you'll just have to trust that I right after taking this picture I took the shovel from the guy on the left.

It is my favourite thing just to be with people. Yesterday I was sitting on the ground with a group of women and picked up the baby of the woman beside me and started playing with him. It touched my heart when my colleague translated what one woman said; “We can’t speak Portuguese so it is hard to talk with you, but we can see that this baby is very comfortable and happy to be with you.”

It is my favourite thing when people teach me things. Last week, this woman in Matambo was teaching me how to bundle kale using strips of wet bark.

I don’t want to give the jaded impression that my work is all “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.” There are times when the dog bites and the bee stings. These things should not be overlooked nor their importance undermined. The answer to the question “what did you learn today” is not always as delicious as ice cream. The roses have thorns and the kitten has claws. These lessons should be learned and not ignored. But at the end of the day it does the heart good to dwell on those things that are good; to give praise for the simple blessings that we experience everyday.  

A snapshot of life as an extensionist

The temperature in Tete is changing; winter is coming. Well, what they call winter. When my friends here see me shivering in a sweater and scarf at 25 C, I have a hard time convincing them that winters in Canada are like stepping into the freezer. A few weeks ago, before the temperature started dipping at night, my colleagues and I were sitting outside the little house where we stay when we are working in the field. The still, quiet dark was beautiful in a way only possible when you live off the grid in the middle of nowhere. I was lying on my back on a straw mat, drinking in the stars, when it hit me. I am actually here.

I am actually here. Here, doing agriculture work, building friendships, learning and growing, under the stars of Mozambique. What used to be a dream is now more real than I ever could have imagined. What I wrote off as impossible has become my career path.

That night, my colleagues and I stayed up late (9 o’clock!) discussing our work, the latest Brazilian soap operas, evolution, the Bible. We were up by 6 the next morning, getting ready to go about our work in the communities. The extensionists are all responsible for 2-3 communities where we have built sand dams. I take turns going out with different extensionists to see how things are going, meet with the community members, and give some suggestions. Now, in the cool season, the vegetable gardens are underway and the areas around the dams have transformed. Grass and brush has been cleared, fences put up to keep out the livestock, seedbeds are full of young plants, and transplanting has already begun.

I had the pleasure this week to show my host brother around some of the communities. The first time I told my host family I wanted to spend the night with the other extensionists in the field, they raised their eyebrows with a look that said, “really?” Now they’ve gotten used to the idea, and my brother has been asking to come out with me. He got quite the experience seeing three different dams, transplanting cabbage, spraying for grasshoppers, eating sugarcane and baobab fruit a boy brought us, and chasing goats away from our cook fire, all in two days. His real initiation to field work came when he went with one of the guys to bathe at the water pump and their motorcycle broke down. It took them a good hour to push it up the long hills back home!   

But why talk when I can let the pictures speak for themselves? Here’s a snapshot of last week. I just want to add that it is an honour and a privilege to have such a close relationship with this project, with my co-workers, and with the communities where we work. This really is only a snap shot. It does nothing to capture that wonderful feeling when people call me by name, greet me in their local dialect, and then ask where I’ve been the past 2 weeks. 

My colleague Romão teaching the women of Capinga to plant tomato seeds. These have long germinated and some have already been transplanted. 

Each generation, from the youngest to the oldest, is helping out in Nhamunyu!

There is always time for a little fun in the evenings.  I taught the extensionists how to eat with chopsticks like I did last year in Cambodia. They caught on a lot quicker than I did! 

Handing out papaya seedlings to community members in Maule Maule. 

Posing with the community of Capinga during a visit by the MCC Mozambique representative.  

Transplanting kale in Ngalo. This area is an association of 15 or so farmers who work together to grow vegetables and cassava. 

Host bro Inacio doing the same. 

Hanging out under the shade after a long morning of work. This was right before we dug into the sugar cane!

My favourite photo of them all. There is nothing like the smile of one who sees birds up close through binoculars for the first time! 

Any place worth going is worth taking a long time to get to.

You could cite a different African proverb every day for a year and still not come close to exhausting the supply of those fabulous bits of wisdom. It might seem strange to you then that I have not made proverbs a more prominent feature in my blog. This is largely because I feel like a child here at times- the recipient of said proverbs, not the giver. Can I speak with enough wisdom and authority to pass them on to others?  But I guess we are all both learners and teachers.

I have now passed through the Johannesburg airport a few times. On the wall of the departing lounge in letters a meter tall is written:

“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

Yesterday I was coming back to the city from working in the field with a group of other agricultural extensionists. We had all stayed the week in their house in the small community of Capinga, going out during the day to various surrounding communities to carry out conservation agriculture activities. Done for the week, we were heading home on our motorcycles, plodding along at 30 km/h on a highway where I knew I could easily go 60 or 70. We were stuck at a snail’s pace because a couple of the motorcycles had seen better days and decided that they’d had enough of highway driving. In case one of them spontaneously stalled and needed a push start, we stuck together. The temptation for me to pick up speed on a downhill, slip into 5^th gear, and speed home to a shower and clean clothes was immense. I could have made it there in half the time traveling alone. But then the above-mentioned proverb came to mind. I was wrong. Alone, I would not have made it home in half the time. Alone, I would have still been stuck in the little house in Capinga. That very morning I couldn’t get my motorcycle running on my own and needed to ask Dercio to start it for me.

Alone, I would not get very far.

My colleague Dercio Romão planting cabbage in Capinga. 

I felt bad a few weeks ago when I had to catch an early bus, and my host brother was volunteered by his mother to escort me to the station. I was telling my MCC colleague how I felt bad, but Stephanie said, “don’t feel bad Rebecca, that’s what brothers are for.” Sure enough, the next day when I knocked on my brother’s door at 4AM, he jumped out of bed without the least big of sleepiness or grudging, picked up my bag, and saw me to the bus. When I need to know what is appropriate attire for a wedding or want to learn how to crack open and grate a coconut… that’s what sisters are for. When I need to buy a helmet in the part of town where guys always whistle at me, that’s what brothers are for. You could choose to be independent and go it all alone. But when you choose to call on your brother or sister, instead of feeling embarrassed or helpless, you feel like you are a part of a family where people help each other, because that’s what brothers and sisters are for.

You don’t have to go it alone.

A group of women in Caphaia working together to make seed beds and plant vegetables for the first time. 

Mennonite Central committee works primarily by partnering with existing local organizations in the country where we work. We normally do not carry out our own projects, but rather support the endeavors of local churches and NGO’s working the areas of peace, relief, and development.  My North American sense of efficiency is sometimes compromised as a result of this complex but beautiful relationship. Then I ask my self,

“Why are we here? Is our purpose to go fast or to go far?”

Mr. Manuel standing in his garden plot in front of the dam at Maulemaule. 

Lucia António, Luisa Luis, and Quiniria Bernardo in Cabvewe. After three years with this project, they hardly need any reminders on now to prepare seed beds- they've got the experience they need to continue on their own.  

What does going far look like? It could be many things.  It could be local people with the compassion, vision, and capacity to have great positive impact in their communities in areas where they see need. It could be sustainable and just community development. It could be the growth of cross-cultural relationships based on mutual trust and collaboration. It could be communities worldwide in a right relationship with God, one-another, and creation (MCC’s own vision). We have far to go, but to the best of our ability, we are going there together.

Together, we can go far.

Me and the women of Caphaia standing in front of the 5 seed beds we planted together that morning- the first time for this community. As Romao and I were picking up our things to leave, a couple of the women picked up their hoes once again and started immediately putting to use what they learned by preparing more seedbeds so they could plant the leftover seeds.