Lessons of a Money Launderer

Let’s just say I was laundering money. Let’s just say I was the head of a well respected NGO for the province and still wasn’t satisfied with my salary. Let’s just say I was plan stupid but hey, everybody does it so I could never get caught. Let’s just say that was all what I was doing right now. (Please remember this is all hypothetical!) I may never get caught, this IS Mozambique, but I’m wondering, wouldn’t I be smart enough to keep the places operating costs functioning? Wouldn’t that provide some cover for me? Last week I was given a stack of papers to send off to various other offices via email and fax. I get this lovely job because I’m the only one that really knows how to use the internet. Apparently I’m the only one that realizes you have to pay for it too! But I noticed I had only 3 lights working on the modem. Damn. This is Mozambique and sometimes the internet just doesn’t work. So I gave it the rest of the day… and the next day too. Still no internet L. The phone line at least said that it was “fora do service” out of service so we could at least tell that that had been cut because it was not paid for. No phone line working equals no fax machine working, that’s easy math to do even for my mathematically challenged self. But everything was working fine with the internet until the disconnected phone line started ringing. It was the broadband company saying that the internet bill has not been paid so the internet was cut off. Man, how can people rob so much money that services they need to run their business don’t work? Why are people so stupid?

It's Beginning to Look a lot like winter...

It's not quite snowing but you know its winter. Last night I was watching some Arrested Development on my couch and I hear my dog make some noise to get some attention. This dog is definitely very expressive. Yesterday she was outside and made some noise. I go to the door and she is sitting there in all her "take pity on me for I am just a poor animal" glory. She was so damn cute I had to let her in the house. I went back down to the couch and she just jumped up and made herself comfy. She licked my chin and kept me warm for the rest of the evening. Then I knew why I went to go get her from Homoine.

OBAMA

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!



If a democrat is in charge I'll move back home!

You never know in Africa!

So I've been in Africa for some time now. I don't see animals on a regular basis. Most of the animals were killed or fled during the war. I DO see amazing birds everyday and they seem to know that they are amazing! They do wonderful dives through the air just to make sure you see them in all their glory. I thank them for that. Now I've had encounters with a couple animals throughout my 3 years here in the wild. Baboons - I go running the other way. Hyena - i didn't even leave my house to see if this one was true! And here is the story about what happened last night.

Last night was the first time I had really questioned my reasoning for bringing my dog back to live with me in Maxixe. She started barking at about 1 AM. I noticed the barking right away but also heard it to be more of a what the hell are you doing here in my territory kind of bark. Not Ian watch out there's an intruder!!! I thought it was a cat and I was right it was a cat but not the cat i thought it would be.


Here's a picture It's called a large spotted genet. I didn't even know it existed!!!

Day 3

Day 3 Sunday – Domingo (11^th May)

Today was a weird day. I was so tempted just to stick around and catch the blue panther bus north, but I didn’t think I could afford the one extra day. Last night I got a taxi to come by this morning and he was bang on time. That’s what I love about Isaac. It was worth the money because we all had some bags. Isaac was wonderful though and made sure to find the bus that would take us to Maxixe and leaving soon. We were the lasts ones on the bus and maybe waited about 20 minutes in Junta for it to leave. That’s record time! But the trip still took 7 hours to go 450 kilometers or 280 miles. Oh I’m going to love coming back to the West when you can go 700 kilometers (437 miles) in about 7 hours. That’s for next year. Sam and I were next to each other on the bus and Noel was a row or two behind us. We all had jump seats though (read not comfortable.) We were on the road at 5:30 in the morning though and got into Maxixe around noon ish. Alex from Chicuque had been there and she greeted us getting off the bus. Off we went on a trek through the sand to my house. We paused half way through because walking in ankle deep sand when you are not at the beach is not easy. Pictures abounded and then we made it home. Scott was sitting on my front wall. He had texted asking about his debit card, but I didn’t expect him to come to my house so quickly. The boy was desperate for cash though as most of us are when the 3^rd month of our pay period comes along. We hung out at the house for a little bit and I taught them the way to use a latrine and how I take a bucket bath. It’s funny how much you forget you had to learn coming here as well. After a chat, some baths and a lock down on the house, we were off to campismo of Maxixe. The camp grounds run by the city are like my second home. Everyone that works there is a wonderful person, the owners are some of the nicest people in the world and it’s just a wonderful atmosphere there when you need to go and relax and or possibly vent out some of the troubles of the day. I finally got to show my friends from here some of my family from home. It was a weird meeting of two worlds but something I really enjoyed doing. I think all my friends enjoyed meeting my family and Noel and Sam enjoyed meeting my friends. On the way home, we went to drop my friend Anne off because of a little incident on her road last week and passed by the Homoine sign. Noel recognized the name and once I get some pictures up on the internet, you’ll be able to see a little fun time we had trying to get a picture of me and of Homoine.

Oh yeah, today was Mother’s day, not something I’ve made a habit of remembering over the years. Jess did though. She sent a text saying, ‘aren’t you supposed to wish me something?’ I may not remember the day but I can take a hit. Luckily, last week I had bought 600 Meticais worth of telephone credit and that allows you to set 3 friends numbers in the States or abroad to a 25% discount. Jess was one of those friends I set. So we all called and yelled HAPPY MOTHERS DAY and said hi very quickly. Then all of us were so tired and wanted to sleep so we went to bed with a little help of melatonin.

Day 2

DAY 2 Saturday Sabado (10^th May)

Because of the night before, the next day started rather late. But hey, that didn’t bother me too much, until the hotel started bothering me that is. Nevertheless, we only got started at 12. Oh the days of sleeping in and not feeling guilty about it are long gone. It’s hard to do that when pretty much this entire country is up by 5 AM in the summer or the winter. Only after try 3 was I able to get these two out of bed. I even went over the road to a really nice bakery and got them some coffees for breakfast. Nothing shook them until I said, hey, the maid is coming we’ve gotta go. That worked. After that though, we went down to the bluff overlooking the Indian. I thought it was really pretty and apparently many other people did too. I counted no less than 5 weddings taking place in the garden – well not the wedding but the after parties and photos. It is called Lover’s Garden, so I can’t be too mad. After another quick bite to eat, we all got in a chapa and traveled doooooooooooown into the Baixa or the downtown of Maputo. It’s a experience. I always feel like I’m coming out very dirty when I go down there. It’s a part of the city that is over 100 years old and looks it. It’s also where most of the movie BLOOD DIAMOND is filmed so you can have a look if Noel and Sam can’t convince you to come out and visit. J

Saturday is the best day to go down to the Baixa because that is when all the street venders from around Maputo congregate and try to sell their wares. You run the risk of buying too much if you go down there but I wanted Noel and Sam to see some history so I brought them down. I think they are cursing me now but they had a good time. Mozambicans are desperate to make a metical and Maputo is an expensive city (states prices) so if you don’t have a salary, it’s HARD!!! They see white people and think there would be some sort of easy deal. Make sure you ask Noel about the $12 turtle. But that is for another day’s post. J Anyway, I thought we had gotten up too late for the wood market in the Baixa. It normally closes at one. So we headed straight to the old municipal market that was built in 1901. At least that is what the sign says. We go around there and get a little bit of this and a little bit of that having some fun bargaining and with my commentary on how expensive all the prices are inside the shops. Sam saw this really nice looking statue, that everyone started at 2 500 Meticais for. That’s roughly $100. Sam said no. He dropped down and she still said no. It became obvious that he wasn’t going to budge, so we left. The weird thing is how quickly Sam’s interest in this one statue was spread throughout the market. Every stall owner we then talked to tried to undersell the previous one and we quickly saw the statue was not as unique as previously thought. Oh well. I did get a really nice, genuine leather, map of Africa pendant though for 100 MTn.

Off to the Continental to get some cokes was our next move because of the tired feet. The Continental is a grand old café situated in the heart of Old Maputo where you could almost feel the history coming out of the walls. You could see the Mozambican revolutionaries sitting there plotting how to actually overthrow the Lisbon regime and the henchmen of the Lisbon regime right next to them plotting how to kill them. All of this right in the dinning room that was only in bad need of a coat of paint. But, outside for us on the sidewalk it was anything but quiet and calm; just how an African capital should be. Almost as soon as we sat down, the street kids came up and sat the wares right down on our table. Sam went to go touch them but I said not to because once you do, it’s yours. We paid and left… and they followed. I felt like we were the pied piper of Hamlin. It was just too much. They continued to follow us and our shouting at them just continued to draw more people to latch themselves to our wake. I do admit though I let it happen a little bit because I wanted to see Noel and Sam’s reaction. It did finally get to be too much though when the people were just getting physical. I don’t ever like that but I yelled the magic word it seemed like and they all dropped off. SUCA!!! Ask your friendly neighborhood Mozambican for a translation. J Eff off basically. Its something you only say to dogs or street venders. I guess it works.

Next stop was the train station. We weren’t going anywhere but it figures in the BD movie and is actually a very impressive building. Eiffel designed and built it for the Portuguese. Just ask Noel for some pics. The coolest thing though is that the movie left a refurbished door for the CFM company that runs the place. It’s a pretty cool looking door until you look on the other side of it and see it is definitely a film set. They just left a door made out of wood, completely out of wood! Nice of them huh? I can’t remember exactly, but that movie only came here in 2006 and I lived in Maputo in 2005 and I remember a door there. Oh well, at least they left it. We hung around a little bit but the sun was getting low and the Baixa of Maputo is not somewhere you want to be after dark. So, we were off back to the hotel and for a shower. That night though I introduced Noel to the pleasures of a PAN GALACTIC GARBLE BLASTER and I don’t remember what happened…jk.

The Trip!

The Trip!

writing and posting these after the trip but i've tried to break it down into a day by day with help from the photos. ENJOY!

Day One Friday – Sexta-Feira (9^th May)

Man, I can’t believe it is over already. It was almost two months of build up and the poof!!!!!! They are back in America. So let me start from the beginning and see how this all goes. The day before I picked up Noel and Sam from the bus stop, I had a horrible Larium dream. I dreamt they were stuck at the border and had to bribe millions of dollars to get into Mozambique. It continued into that they were being held at Park Station and I couldn’t get the money or get to them. It was bad. I realized after a little bit that it was a dream and tried to wake up. Unfortunately only about 20 minutes had gone by since I went to bed. Getting the trip off to a good start no?

Anyway, true to Mozambican time, the bus arrives almost two hours late. I had gotten the bus stop confused and got there early because I thought there was a cool little café that I could sit at and just wait for them. Nope. Nothing of the sort was there, so like a homeless man, I camped out in a building entrance and waited and waited. Finally the bus came from the other direction where I thought it would be coming from. Oh well, can’t be right all the time. I saw Sam and Noel right away. They were sitting on the right side of the bus and waved as the disappeared down the street – to turn around that is. As I was waiting for them to get off the bus, an Indian man came up to me and said, “Don’t worry, your brother is on the bus.” Apparently he had said to Noel earlier on that his brother was outside on the pavement waiting for him. How did he know? The Indian man responded that we are practically the same person… and so it begins.

After getting the bags we trotted off to the hotel. 5 “oh my god you look so similar” later we’re in the room but not for long. I had planned to introduce them little by little to my life here in Mozambique so I wanted to bring them up to the Embassy quarter of Maputo where the houses are nice, the Peace Corps Office is open and there are bagels. I took them past the viewing of the Indian Ocean and Sam hadn’t been in the country 12 hours before she said “can I join Peace Corps yet.” It’s pretty here guys. Bagels and some more “oh my god you look so similar” brought us back to the hotel for a nap. Noel and Sam had just been through 3 countries in about 24 hours and deservedly needed to sleep. Little did I know what was coming later that night! While they were sleeping I went off for part two of the thyroid doctor debacle (see other post) and came back. Dinner was at Piratas Restaurant the first night and then we were going to call it an easy night. A friend of mine phoned and we were off to a nice apartment overlooking the cliff of the baixa or downtown part of Maputo. That was supposed to be for a few drinks so my friend could meet my brother and his girlfriend. That turned out to be a house party until 3 AM and that’s when I collapsed. I wasn’t the one who just trekked across the world yet I went to bed first. Iva wanted to take us all to a party higher up in the city but I just couldn’t go. Sam and Noel went and they met my friend Alex who woke up at 5 AM to leave to go up north. Not a bad night for the first night in Africa. I just was wondering that night how I was going to keep up this level of enjoyment. It was a high class, high energy opening act to what would turn out to be a highly enjoyable trip.

A powerful mind

Oh I can’t wait for the day when I don’t have to take Larium anymore. I’m so worried about the long term effects this will have on my body. I do like the dreams though. They’ve been entertaining, good dinner conversation and down right kooky – until last night that is. I had one of the hardest things happen yesterday and the funeral was today. I was planning on going even though it was about 15 k from my house and really early in the morning. But my dream last night… what I can remember of it, put me off the idea of going. It was MY funeral in the dream that I was going to. I was watching the dream from my casket and wondering why they were burying me alive. I drenched the sheets in sweat I hope and couldn’t bring myself to go to the funeral. I just couldn’t do it and it’s already 9:30 in the morning and I haven’t shaken the feeling of the dream….

A Fine Line

Back home in the west, we human beings are able to cocoon ourselves into the delusion that we run the show. It’s not so here. Life and death are something that can be separated in America and the West. Life is what you are doing now; death is something that happens many years in the future. In the west if a child or even someone my age dies, it’s a tragedy. There’s “national morning”, a scholarship fund set up and the person gets talked about for years. It’s something that “never should have happened” or the person “died too young.” Here in Africa that is completely different. I can only speak about Mozambique but this line of life and death is just so different. Life and death walk hand and hand. Death can occur on so many levels in so many ways. It just sneaks up on you and hits you hard. Death is not something that is expected as it is in the west. It happens everyday and the people here deal with it and move on. It occurs on a regular basis and that can’t be stopped so it’s not a tragedy when someone “dies too young” because there never is a too young.

I’m writing this because of what has happened in the past 24 hours. I get a phone call from a boy I’ve befriended over the years, he stands on a corner in town and sells cashews. His English name is James and he’s been so friendly to me over the years. He’s in a family business too. He and his brother have been selling cashews on this corner for years. Everybody knows them, the tourists trust them and the cashews are delicious. That is why I was absolutely heartbroken to hear that James was in the hospital with his brother Pascoal last night. He was just walking home from the city and went to cross the road. He didn’t see a car coming around the bend and got hit hard by it. James seemed pretty upbeat last night. After all, they were at the best hospital in the region. I then remembered that we are in the poorest province of one of the poorest countries in the world. A friend of mine had worked at this hospital for a little over a year and she said that sometimes the hospital didn’t have any aspirin to give birthing mothers. Basically he was in trouble any way you looked at it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get to the hospital as transport was not running but there is another volunteer who lives very close to that hospital who could help I thought. I was woken up this morning at 5:00 by a crying James. Pascoal died during the night. He was hurt badly by the accident. James was hysterical this morning as he should be and I’m just confused because could he have survived if he had the medicines or help really. Just got a call that the funeral will be tomorrow and I’m going to try to go. As always, transport is a problem. I just got back from buying some SMS phone messages from the mCel shop around the corner. I saw James. He held it together for all of about nil point 5 seconds and collapsed in my arms. It was a scene that made me realize he appreciates me and the other volunteers as more than just cashew buyers. He was hysterically crying into my chest and people (who know both of us) were walking by asking me what happened. I had to explain this (in Portuguese punctuated with my own crying) and I’m crying still as I write this. Poor James is doing all of this by himself because he has no other family. This was the brightest, smileyest kid I’ve ever seen. Taught himself English just so he could converse with the tourists! Please pray for him. He’s going to need all the help he can get.

The Prophet or Malcolm

Things get better with age!

So my sister paid me an ultimate compliment last night, I think. She had just received my brother and Samantha back from Africa and they told her about the Marcos phenomenon I experience everyday. Thanks to the wonders of Google, she was able to look up a picture of this guy on the internet. You can too. I want to start taking a poll of all that read this to see if I really do look like this guy or it’s just a case of all white people looking the same. The show is called o Propheta (the prophet) and the character’s name is Marcos de Oliveira. I don’t know the actor’s name. Anyway, Jess looked him up and said it’s a good thing I look like him because he’s hot. It’s a lot better than Malcolm from Malcolm in the Middle. As soon as I can figure it out, I’m going to put pictures of the two characters up on this page. Hopefully that won’t take me too long. Along the theme of the title, apparently I’VE gotten better with age. I no longer look like a pubescent teenager who talks in a squeaky voice. I look like a Brazilian soap star that is apparently pretty famous. Most of the characters on the show like him too, except when he was beating up his girlfriend Sonia – that was a sad day when that story line showed up because I thought I would lose some street credential but thankfully, that didn’t happen! I do find it strange though that my growing up is mirrored by television shows from around the world. But look at the pictures, have a few laughs and leave some comments about the similarities.

With this past trip though, (I’ll blog more about that later) the most important thing was seeing my brother and Sam in my environment. Lots of things happened in the two weeks they were in Africa, but the thing I noticed most is that things get better with age. My brother and I tolerated each other when we were younger, but now I think we actually enjoy each other’s company. He flew to the other side of the world to hang out with me I think that shows he likes my company now!!! He and Samantha were kind of advocating for me to come back to America (at least for grad school) because I’ve never experienced the States as an adult. I don’t know if they are saying the country gets better with age. J I was also very happy seeing Noel and Sam over here because, as they said, it was an eye opening experience. They are already planning for next year’s trip to who knows where… maybe things do get better with age.

Marcos Oliveirs or Thiago Fragoso

The scrawny one on the right is Malcolm. Thanks Jess!!!!

Let the voting begin! :)

scare tactics

So I wasn’t going to say anything to anybody before I got home. However, life changes and I’m writing about it now because I have been infected with a complete case of COMPASSION FATIGUE. All I really want to do is help. It’s something I’ve wanted to do in pretty much all the things I do in my life. No I am just so fucking over it. I extended to help teach computers and English here in Maxixe. Now I’m seriously thinking about what I would be doing if I weren’t here. When Noel and Sam were here, I expected to have problems because 3 white people are hard to hide in a town like Maxixe. I didn’t expect anything like what happened to happen though. It was Noel and Sam’s first night under a mosquito net and also mother’s day. I made sure to tuck them in and then we called Jess to wish her happy mother’s day. We went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and went outside to greet my housekeeper. She looked upset. I asked her where my plastic outside chair was, she asked where my bike was. I looked down and saw the broken lock on the floor, the roof of where it was locked up a little caved in and the chain on the floor. I just couldn’t believe it. Every precaution was taken and still it was robbed. I went to go get my phone from the bedside table to call Peace Corps, opened the curtains and saw a gaping hole that had been burned into the screen. So that’s why my light had been on the night before when I was pretty certain I had turned it off. They had reached in and grabbed my phone. Sam came outside and was looking for her shoes that she left outside. $100 chakos gone with the wind. Gotta tell everyone that my yard was completely locked up, I think they jumped the wall. So 4 things gone, phone, bike, chakos and chair. I chalked it up to someone seeing my visitors from America and thought they were coming with lots of money. That’s what let me sleep at night until this morning. I woke up this morning and went outside. I saw the jar that I use to scoop water and the top to my water barrel just completely lying on the floor. They had tipped out 120 liters of water and stolen the barrel. Nothing was heard. I’m just so frustrated by it all. I went to call Peace Corps this morning and got told to go to the police. They are going to do nothing. I don’t know if I was supposed to feel better after talking to the police, but I didn’t. It was such bullshit. To them it was more important whether or not I was single or married then really what was taken. They all came to my house afterwards and basically made fun of me for living where I do. They don’t understand why a foreigner lives out in the neighborhoods when I have enough money to live in the city. I don’t know either. It’s part of Peace Corps Policy to have us out in the communities. But when the community is robbing you to try and get you out of there, is it worth staying? Half of me wants to go home to the States, (not the right thing to do) half of me wants to stay exactly where I am just to stick it to the guy that I know is doing this robbing to try and scare me. I don’t want to deal with this for the next six months I just want to have some fun with the rest of my time here in Mozambique. But, I’m so tired right now. I didn’t sleep well at all last night because every single noise I heard I kept wondering if someone was in the yard. I feel and look a mess. Just gotta remember, everything passes.

Communism is dead?

Communism is dead?

The day before Sam and Noel came; I went down to Maputo to see the thyroid doctor. I figured it was high time to see the doctor since I had not seen one since I got my thyroid taken out. In the true comedy of errors, or just Mozambican logic, I get out of my house at 5 in the morning to catch the bus. We don’t leave until 8:30. I had scheduled my appointment in Maputo for 15h00 or 3:00PM; I knew I wasn’t going to make it. So I sent a text message to the doctor. She said she’d move it. I still didn’t make it. The bus pulls into Maputo at 16h00 and I get a phone call from the doctor to go straight to the central hospital to see the thyroid specialist. Luckily I was very near the hospital at that time. I thought things would finally be working for me. I was wrong. I had never been to a Mozambican public hospital. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we are spoiled with the private hospital in the embassy quarter of town – not real life I know. Anyway, I get to the hospital with a backpack and my computer and am sweating and stinky. I had just made a mad dash of about 7 kilometers after spending 7 hours on a bus so I was little ripe. I go to reception to ask where to find Dr. Paula.

I get sent to check in. (step 1)

At check in they give me a form to fill out and ask for my insurance card. (step 2)

I then move onto another line that I’d been waiting in about 15 minutes to fill in my personal details which I had already filled in at step 2. (step 3)

I get told I’m in the wrong line because it’s not workman’s comp and I have to go to the next line, where there is no one sitting at the computer. (step 4)

The lady from step 4 comes over to process me. She’s covering both desks because private pay processing lady is sick. I get a bill to pay before the doctor even looks in my direction. (step 5)

I walk over to the payment desk where a rather butch and disgruntled Portuguese woman is sitting who really hasn’t been doing anything over the course of the past 30 minutes to pay. I pay and get a receipt and get some indecipherable response to my query about the location of Dr. Paula’s office. (step 6)

I RUN to the other side of the hospital to see if Dr. Paula is there, she’s not and with my tail between my legs and a whimper, I go home. (step 7)

7 step plan to complete lunacy brought to you by a “official not communist” communist health system. It gets better though, because the next day I tried to get all another appointment made. Another doctor calls me and says I need to go to a different hospital in Maputo (private) to see Dr. Paula. I get to Consultorios Medicos and she is not there. The very same doctor who told me to go to CM told the very nice Dr. Paula to go to HCM where I was yesterday. However, Dr. Paula drove from HCM to CM poked at me a little, looked at my charts, explained some things to me, told me I should see her one more time before I leave Mozambique and pronounced me healthy and only having to get a check up once a year! Is there a moral to this story??? I don’t know, I’m just glad I don’t have to go through that again.

I've not felt like this

since I was a kid on Christmas Eve. The excitement is building and I think I'm going to go crazy. In case you haven't guessed it already, I'm talking about my brother and his girlfriend Samantha coming to visit me in Mozambique. I've been here for 2 and a half years and only now does some one come to visit. But I don't want to make you feel guilty or anything! I'm just really excited for the time to spend with them in Mozambique and Swaziland. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, i can see that they are safely in Barcelona. Having a good time I hope, those lucky dogs. Anyway, tomorrow I go to Maputo for a doctor's appointment and then i get to pick them up all bright eyed and bushy tailed coming of the night bus from Johannesburg. It's going to be some fun nights in Maputo, then back up to Maxixe. After that over to the beach for some R and R and beyond that, back to maputo, on to Swaziland game parks and then its over. whoa I hope it doesn't go that fast.

Ian

as coisas pequenas

If there is anything that Africa has taught me, it is to appreciate the little things you do and see that make you happy. That and the amazing amounts of age Africa has bestowed on me have made me appreciate the things I do have in my life. The highlight of this week, and I never thought I would say this is Noel Hefele coming to Africa. Oh yeah, Sam too.

Hi my name is Ian and I am an office addict.

Considering I haven’t been in the States since god knows when, I feel like I am pretty up to date on some of the television shows out there. Who ever invented or thought of putting whole TV show seasons on to DVDs should be both praised and persecuted at the same time. Praise is due because you as the viewer don’t have to deal with really annoying commercials for stuff you never really need. But the persecution comes from the fact that you don’t have to wait until next week to see if Pam and Jim really do kiss! I’m 25 years old, living in a 3^rd world country for almost 3 years now, WHY THE HELL DO I CARE IF TWO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS KISS! Oh but I do! Since I’ve gone through 50 episodes of this series in the past week I seem to have nothing else to do. But, whatever! Pam and Jim fake romance is so much better than mine just as Marcus and Sonia’s from the Prophet was the talk of the town here for MONTHS! The show ended a month ago and I still don’t see an end in site to not being called Marcus. Sorry Sam I cut the blonde locks. J Anyway, Jiminy has been keeping me company for the past two nights and so I’ve been awake anyway, why not watch something.

I remember when I came to Africa I was made fun of by certain friends for even thinking of bringing my computer. I knew the iPod was a must have, but where would I use a computer? I didn’t even know if I had electricity. Then when I went home this most recent time, my dad and his wife were teasing me about not living on the level of others. I do live on the level of others, with my ratty old stereo (always blasting) my dvd (always blasting) and my television (which I don’t have.) Even though I’ve been here almost 2 and a half years, I’m still shocked when I see a reed house with electricity, a car port (sometimes a car freshly _________ from South Africa) a satellite dish and a DVD player. Most everyone has a television and a cell phone, but not many people have a land line. The contradictions are so stark to what I thought I would be experiencing and what I am experiencing. Next week, I get to show them to Noel! J

Ties that bind

TIES THAT BIND

This month has been a month of visits – not a calendar month exactly, but a four week period. I’m loving it though because I’ve not had many visits to Mozambique. I usually have to go to a westernized country like South Africa or Swaziland to meet them. But I just had a friend from Swaziland come up to visit me and in 10 days I leave for Maputo to go pick up a certain person named Noel Hefele and Samantha McD (Noel said I spelled her name wrong last time I wrote it, so I’ll leave it at that) Yes it is true, Noel is actually leaving PA for more than just a few hours. People do change!! J But, I don’t want to talk about that yet, my friend’s visit from Swaziland was more important.

This friend is such a trouper. Murphey’s law has been a cannon law while this PCV has been in Africa. My friend is the poster child for the little handbook PC gives us called “Worst Case Scenario.” However, he/she is still here. “Time is over”, though and this PCV will be going home soon. But, s/he was here when my brother called last week and said something very interesting after I got off the phone with my brother. My friend’s grandma died while my friend’s been here and her family did not allow her to fly back home – ie my worst nightmare. Apparently it is my brother’s too. However, my friend and I were discussing that you do have to live your life for yourself. I’ve missed so many things since I’ve lived in Africa. I missed a family member’s birth. It still seems weird to me that I am an uncle. But things like this happen and I feel even more grateful for the time I have with family and friends because of it. It is not just with friends and family from the States, but friends and family from here too. It’s made me think a lot about what I want to do with my life when I am done here though. I don’t want to be coming back only once a year and never see people I care about. But stuff I’ve been looking at and mulling over in my head is making me strive to be true to myself. That’s not easy in this world and not easy at all in Africa. But I will try, and someone told me once here that the ties that bind a family together are an ancient magic. I’m beginning to wonder what the human race lost when it left Africa…

Old is new is old is new again?

I just finished reading an article about the music industry reviving LPs to help and combat against the bags of money they are loosing in the battle against mp3 downloading over the internet. Let me just say they have a whole different level to deal with once they even take a look at Africa. The whole music industry here (except for Maputo) are burned CDs that anyone with an internet connection and LIMEWIRE puts together on their computers. Maybe that’s why no one really looks this way to often. Anyway, in the article, it said that music executives are trying to revive the sale of LPs for new albums - because the sound is "better." Well it is, but when you live out of a suitcase or two, bringing your music collection around in huge flat discs just doesn't seem practicle. But it got me thinking.

While living here, I've gotten to appreciate books and also just being social so much more than I did in the States or Europe. But the other night I was dreading going home because I was without power and going to be reading by candlelight or writing in my journal. So much self-analysis is not a very good thing. I had a pang of longing for the States or just the west because there "you have options." It's true you have options, but think about it, what would I be doing in down time in the States

Watching a movie

Reading a book

Watching tv

going out for food and/or beer

Well, I do all of that here too with and without friends. I may have to think twice now before I saw that Mozambicans and Americans or anyone else for that matter are really all that different.

Thoughts?

Stupid people suck

So, I'm back from Chimoio now and landed right into a mess. I just want to talk about the title of this blog for a little while. Stupid people, I don't know if Webster's or Oxford has a definition for who they are, they can come in all shapes and sizes as far as I know, but they do have one defining character - they suck. Now, there are about 15 volunteers within an hour or two drive of the city where I live now. So needless to say we see each other quite a lot. The majority of us have grown quite close over the past couple of years because hey, they are who you turn to when you have problems. One of the disadvantages of being a third year PCV is that you see a lot of people come and go. Sometimes it is good (meaning they finished) sometimes it is bad (meaning they got kicked out or for health reasons should be back in the States.) Now, one of the stalwarts from my zona just got sent home. No one knows why, except for one person who ain't talking. Now none of that really bothers me, because I've since found out that this guy is okay and that is really all I wanted to know. But, the thing that gets me is that he's since called every PCV in the zona and appologized for running off, explaining that it is in his character - which we all knew. I didn't get a phone call but my best friend here got told to keep his mouth shut because he doesn't want me to know anything because I talk too much! I've really got to work on this because I don't do any less talking than any of the PCVs around here. But then Mr. Robot (his nickname) is not exactly mister personality.

Chimoio was awesome, that comes for the next blog.

Off to Manica

Just a little note for all the people that have gotten used to my constant internet this year (including me!!!!) So I wanted to tell all of ya that I'm going to Chimoio in the middle of the country for a week. It's for the annual boys conference. Hopefully I'll be in such a good mood when I get back!

A typical day at work

So, yesterday I was just sitting in my office doing some things and two colleagues come in. They ask me to come with them (bringing a digital camera) to a meeting of curandeiras (traditional healers or witches depending on your beliefs) Off I trotted. I thought it was just going to be running in, taking some pictures and leaving. It wasn't even really worth it for me to try and teach the colleagues how to use the digital camera - which had a disc in it. Never seen that before. Then, the chief of the women sat me down and let me talk to her a little bit. She even brought me into her 'house of healing.' I had to take my shoes off and then kneel in the room. It helped that the ceiling was so low but I understood that I couldn't tower over the spirits that had come to reside in that house. I guess it would get them upset. We were there though because one of the colleagues from the Maputo office is writing an article on these women because of their use of traditional medicine to fight AIDS. Some people will insist that the witchdoctors can cure AIDS, but Mama Ruth (the lady in the picture) said to me right away that she doesn't cure AIDS, she only helps with the symptoms for those people who wish for her help or don't have the means to get to a western based hospital. Very diplomatic I thought. But I was just astounded by their respect for me! Strange thought no?
Inside the "house of healing" all of the medicines and tools, except for the drums, were covered. Just the colors and the smells are enough to make you crazy. I wonder if this stuff really works. Maybe I have to go to these ladies when I'm sick next. Please stay tuned!

oh yeah, click on the link on the right ------------->
to see pictures