Not only was this the title of last week's english lesson, but it also happened to be our afternoon activities. We thought we were in the clear of the hot season since it has been been surprisingly pleasant for the last few weeks, but last week marked a return of 100 degree temperatures inside the house. But, as soon as the sun started to set it was the perfect temperature for working in the yard, and we now have a bustling basil patch and sprouts emerging for butternut squash, kohl rabbi, and tomatoes.
Today marks my two-month anniversary from arriving in Mozambique. It's hard to believe that it's been two months already, but looking back over the past several weeks, we have been admittedly busy (or at least it feels that way through the eyes of African time management). I know that it's been an embarrassingly long time since I've posted an update here, but I think I have a good excuse…primarily, the internet is longer functioning at Jonathan's school. We still haven't quite gotten to the bottom of the issue, but so far we've deduced that the school gets government money to pay for certain telecommunication efforts, and somehow that money didn't get paid this month. When we asked who is in charge of the bill no one seems to know the answer, it's either an education office in Maxixe or Homoine, but no one can say for sure. More than likely that money is sitting pretty in some district official's pocket; just another sign of the corruption in the system and the public's inability to work through the bureaucracy.
So what have we been up to for the last two months? We've been away from site every weekend so far that I've been here….to the beach for five of those and to other volunteer's houses for the others. We stuffed into a gas station in Massinga with about 20 other volunteers to watch the Super Bowl on satellite tv. The Petromoc offers the only satellite in town, and conveniently stays open 24 hours a day which was perfect because kickoff didn't occur until 1am. The sun came up just as the last plays occurred, and everyone dispersed in their own directions, back home just in time for morning classes.
The other big news is that I've started teaching yoga at two different lodges in Barra. I'm there two days a week and it's going really well so far. It's low tourist season right now so it's very quiet, but I have three loyal students who work at the lodges and dive centers and we have a good time each week. It's a good way for me to ease into my teaching career, and a mid-week trip to the beach isn't too bad either. The commute takes about three hours door-to-door, which sounds completely ridiculous by American standards, but it's funny when I say that to other volunteers because they always say "oh that's not bad". It's always an adventure though because it involves one truck into Maxixe, a ferry across the bay to Inhambane City, and then at least one more ride out to Barra. It's good for my Portuguese to have to negotiate around town on my own, and much to the surprise of all the students I am actually able to do it.
We know that in Inhamussua we are a bit under the magnifying glass and are aware that people notice our comings and goings as much as any nosy neighbor, but I've learned this week that that awareness spreads beyond this little community. Yesterday we were waiting in Maxixe for a ride back home and got picked up by a truck headed for Bembe, a small town about half the distance that we needed to go. We asked the driver if we could pay him a little extra to take us all the way and he agreed. We had to laugh when he pulled up right in front of Jonathan's house, never asking for directions. A similar situation happened to me earlier in the week when I was waiting for a ride in Maxixe, a chapa pulled up that said it was also only going to Bembe. A few other people at the bus stop began arguing with the driver in Shitswa, the local dialect, and then a perfect stranger leaned over to me and told me that the driver had agreed to go farther so I could ride to Inhamussua. It will always be a mystery to me how, in a town upwards of 20,000 people, everyone knows that the white people live 15 kilometers away in Inhamussua. At least they're all very friendly, and it makes you feel like you're running into friends everywhere you go…even if you have no idea who the person is who's waving at you from across the street.
(Images above of Olga's son hanging out on the front porch)
(Two students in English class, sporting the hairstyle of the week)
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