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. 

Welcome to Machanga

Welcome to Machanga

A year and four months after arriving in Mozambique and I finally am in Machanga. The journey to get here has been an adventure in and of itself. It has been a time of experiencing and learning in Tete, and an exercise in flexibility and patience when facing situations beyond my control.

Many of you are eager to know what it is like here in Machanga, now that I am finally here.

First of all, (and I didn’t know this when I first got here) it is pronounced with a “sh” sound- MashANga.

I am here working with MCC’s partner, the United Church of Christ. Machanga itself is a quiet town with a few shops and a small outdoor market that sells tomatoes, onion, dried shrimp, coconuts, and not much else. The church runs a girl’s dormitory in the village for young women who want to study at high school but live too far outside of town to be able to attend regularly. My house is next to the church, a few kilometers along the main road outside of town. My place is attached to the back of the home of the pastor and his family. We share a yard; it is always nice to have people and kids around, but I can retreat to my own space and have quiet when I need to work.

The school where I will be teaching at is another 15 km up the road from my house. Thankfully I have a motorcycle to help me get around! Lessons are set to begin on the 16^th of March. I’ll also be teaching the girls at the dormitory in the town a couple times a week. Me and my little motorcycle will soon become very familiar with the road to and from the town, church, and school!

My whole house on the back of a pick up. Even my motorcycle made it on. I stand there looking like I did all the packing, but really did little more than give emotional support to my wonderful colleagues who spent all afternoon at the job.

The new school where I will be teaching. Surrounded by bush, there is not much out there now, but once things get up and running that will change!

After a year of riding a huge Honda XL, finally this little dear is more my size! Any ideas for names?

My bedroom and my cat. The mosquito net does little to stop her from trying to chase my toes at night. 

A little piece of home

The pastor's kids doing the morning chores with the help of the ducks and chickens. I get up around 5:30 AM when everyone else does- it doesn't take long to get in the pattern of early to sleep early to rise. The one time I slept in till 6:30, everyone knew I wasn't feeling well that day.

The well where I get my water, pulled up by hand a bucket on a rope. 

My half of the house is to the right. Nice to have my own porch. I have two solar panels on the roof,. Ironically I have more reliable electricity way out here than i ever did in the city. Sadly it is not quite enough to run a clothes iron so i have to do that the 

View up the road from my house. Down the road looks pretty much the same. Remember this is the main road into town. Machanga is a happenin place. 

My roommate Zucchinha. You are probably all tired of the cat pictures I've posted on Facebook, but she is just too adorable. How can you look at that face and not start singing "soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur..." Or maybe that's just me. 

It look me a long time to get this posted as my internet access is very poor in Machaga. Hopefully I'll have another before long; stories start to collect quickly when you are in a new place.

There and Back Again- a not quite Hobbit’s Tale of a Journey Home to Canada

Unlike the final installment of the Hobbit trilogy that came out this Christmas, my journey was blissfully free of excitement and dangerous adventure. I left Mozambique mid-December and after a short stop-over in Durban for the Southern Africa MCC regional retreat, I stepped foot in Canada for the first time in 15 months. Besides almost losing my bags along the way home, and a couple good snow storms nothing unexpected happened.  

It is difficult to describe what it is like coming home after being away for a while. Many people wonder if it is ever hard coming back to so many changes. Many things are different. My sister has a boyfriend now; this I knew, but I didn’t know it was possible to spend so many hours on skype! My other sister now drives and took me to the Superstore. Kids who were shorter than me are now taller than me (ok, so maybe not much changes). I haven’t had a bedroom that was mine in a while. The kitchen cupboards were redone so it took me a while to search for where the tea is now kept. Though many things do change, there is one thing that doesn’t; it still feels like home.

It was such a blessing just to be there for a month. I am grateful for the time spent with family and friends. I am thankful for the opportunities I had to share about my life and experiences in Mozambique with my friends, church, and at my Mom’s school. My wonderful mother made every single meal on my page-long list of dinner requests. Never having to wonder what kind of strange meat was on the table. Sitting down for a cup of tea with real milk in it. Completing a 1000 piece puzzle with my brothers and sisters. Knitting socks at the curling rink. Snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, breathing deep the smell of a forest. Being a normal person again, passing normal people on the street with a smile or hello because that’s just what we do.  

I’ll keep my tale short this time but promise to be back soon. I’m in Tete now for a few days, visiting and saying a final goodbye to all my friends and colleagues who’ve been there for me this past year. This coming week I’ll hop on a bus to MCC’s office in Beira and start preparing in earnest for moving to Machanga. In early February I’ll finally begin my original assignment position; teaching conservation agriculture at the technical high school in Machanga. Comings and goings are ever bittersweet. It was hard to leave Canada after such a relaxing month home, and it is hard to leave my Tete brothers and sisters who I’ve lived and worked with last year.  But I am looking forward to the new opportunities, friendships, and experiences that will surely come my way as pick up my pack and set my feet on the path to Machanga.

Until next time.

Family Christmas pictures on Christmas day! I had the matching shirts made for my brother and sisters in Mozambique

On the Dobson Trail feeling very cold on New Years. 

Tea AND and puzzles AND rummio. Notice the winter scarf around my neck!

Skiing in Centennial Park with Mom after a fresh snowfall.