Well hey there amigo, I humbly want to say thanks for stoppin by and takin interest in what this girl is doing! While you read, Keep in mind that the ideas and thoughts expressed in this thing are mine and do not necessarily represent the views and opinions of Peace Corps or the United States government...blah blah blah...go read!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Viva Ciencias!

So just to update you all on Science Fair news...I returned a few hours ago from a rather interesting journey to the regional capital with our three winning students from the local fair and one of my colleagues who helped me with planning and implementing Angoche's fair. Thirty-three students presented their projects at the regional fair, representing 11 different schools in Northern Mozambique. Competition was tough, but Angoche brought its game face. I'm happy to annouce that Iahaia, who placed 3rd in Angoche's fair, took 4th place this weekend with his height estimation equation! His interesting project and excellently delivered presentation charmed the judges. I was so excited to see him place in the top 5. Of all my students who participated, Iahaia comes from the least privilaged family. When I went to visit his family to ask permission to take him to the fair, I met everyone in his family and at the end of our conversation, I was given a small mountain of peanuts as a gift. They were pretty enthusiastic about sending their son/brother to this competition so I'm quite certain there was a lot of celebrating going on in his house when he returned with 4th place and a bunch of fancy school supplies and other prizes.
And here's Angoche with the new American Ambassador here in Mozambique, Leslie V. Rowe. Her presence was exciting addition this year and hopefully reinforced the importance of continued development of projects like this one. Plus, she's an interesting lady and seemed genuinely interested in Peace Corps Volunteers and our projects.

And here's Angoche again, with one of the Mozambican big-wigs in education. I tried to make them all smile, but didn't have much luck.

Viva Ciencias! Vivaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Thursday, August 19, 2010

c a p u l a n a

A capulana is a strip of material most often tied around the waist or worn as a scarf.

Photo by Ausi Petrelius

To fully express with authority the wonders of the capulana, I would like to borrow some words from the heart of a Mozambican writer, Paulina Chiziane, who recently featured an article about capulanas in the nation's most prestegious magazine. Of the capulana, she writes:

"It accompanies all the stages of our life. With it, we recieve the new-born infant; with it, we make attire for all ages; it is shroud, sheet, headscarf, and blanket. With it, we tie the baby to our back, or make a bundle of vegetables, or tie up a bunch of firewood. It's the practical funcion which gives this strip of cloth is very peculiar character. The capulana is the symbol of Mozambican women, of African women. A real Mozambican woman must have a capulana. Two capulanas. A thousand capulanas or more--the number doesn't matter. One capulana is never the same as another. There can never be too many."

I couldn't agree more, Paulina! There can never be too many! We've certainly tried our best to obey this Mozambican cultural norm. Our enthusiasm for capulanas is widespread. One day I was walking down the street and some young woman I don't even know ran up to me and burst out "Teacher! the new women's day capulanas are being sold down the street!" How did she know that I would be interested? That's easy. Everyone knows the Americanas love capulanas and they love that we love them.

Although we usually aren't seen using capulanas to carry bundles of firewood on our head (we don't have the skills for that) or strap a baby to our backs (we don't have the babies for that), we do find them incredibly useful. They make great blankets, towels, curtains, cushions on long chapa rides, embelishments, and of course, clothing. When we're talking clothing, however, I must admit, that I've never gotten too into the traditional way to wear the capulana-wrapped around the waist like these ladies.

Photo by Ausi Petrelius

Mine ends up coming un-done and/or I feel incredibly restricted. A girl can't take Americana-sized strides when wearing a capulana like that! (Maybe that's why everyone here walks at just slower than a snail's pace) So we turn our capulanas into capulana clothes, which is also a loved tradition, especially typical of Northern Mozambique.

Life in the Peace Corps gets difficult and sometimes boring. Some volunteers relieve stress by traveling, some journaling, some exercising, and many by drinking the national brew, 2M. But others, like ourselves, occupy some of our time developing fabulous capulana fashion creations.

STEP 1--> Buy a capulana.


Capulanas are typically 1.5m in length and come in pairs. They cost about 150-300 mzm or $4-8 depending on the quality, novelty, printing process, and origins. We walk to the market to buy them. I usually look for the softest and most colorful. They can have extremely modest to ridiculously flamboant prints. They often feature famous people's faces like presidents, the iconic Mozambican heroine Josina Machel, the pope, and even Obama has a capulana dedicated to him in Malawi. They also frequently feature completely random prints like computers, hands, cards, matches, turkeys, tree-stumps, or casserol--anything goes. So anyways, we bargain with our favorite dealers, then add them to our collection.

STEP 2--> Design the clothes.

With the purchase of a new capulana comes inspiration. We draw designs of clothing on note cards, rip pages out of magazines, or take pictures of people on the street.

STEP 3--> Go to the tailor.

This is always the hardest part. We have roughly 6 tailors that we frequent with our capulana needs. Each of them has his forte and quirks. It took them a while to get used to our American tastes--like not wanting to make every dress a little baggier in front to allow for frequent pregnancy--but they're more accostomed to us now. We carefully explain the drawing, get measured, and turn in the capulana.
STEP 4 --> Pick up new capulana gear.

Finally, after anywhere from a day to 3 months depending on how Mozambican the tailor chooses to be about time-frames, we pick up the clothes. Usually adjustments need to be made, and sometimes the piece is just a big flop. But when it's not...

STEP 5--> Work it!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

English

Sometimes--trust me, not too often--I wish I was an English teacher here so I could recieve more great txts like the following:

Hello my dear, how are you? I'm not well, i have stomach-ache.your student Pineapple

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Cow Hearts and (Weird) Fresh Starts

I can't believe we've already begun the 3rd trimester in this school year! I'm almost through my second full year of teaching. Weird. So since I'm an expert--not!--I thought I'd bore you all with some teaching philosophy stuff and a weird story. One thing I've learned so far is that a majority of classroom problems I encounter are my fault or partly my fault as a teacher. I never thought I would think that in a place like this where much of the blame for classroom problems can easily be placed on situational or environmental issues--like ridiculously large class sizes of 120 8th graders, lack of doors and complete walls, and little to no administrative support--but when I reflect on the past 5 trimesters here, I come to the conclusion that a really well-prepared and delivered lesson trumps all those other issues...usually. (There are those times when I think Mozambican classrooms would get the best of the greatest teacher in the world). So toward the end of the second trimester after a frustrating 2 weeks of battling for the lil monsters' attention, I sat down and tried to figure out what I was doing wrong. If I was an 8th grader squished into that classroom and some weirdo foreigner lady delivered me that lesson, I concluded, I wouldn't pay attention either. Back to the drawing board.
Since we were working on the circulatory system, I thought I would try to bring in something to grab their attention. So I went to our market one day after a cow was slaughtered and bought some cow guts. I got lucky. The heart with portions of all the major vessels was still in-tact and no one had taken it yet. I took it home, dissected it, and identified the structures I'd been explaining in class. Show and tell went quite well. Although, I don't think anyone has ever done anything like that before. They started giggling and exchaged the all too familiar glances that they exchange whenever no one knows--since they're only 8th graders and I'm a foreigner and sometimes the only teacher at the cashew factory--if I'm doing something wrong, taboo, or just weird. They got pretty into it though.
They're not a bit squeamish like American students are when it comes to guts and blood. In fact, I had to ask them to stop grabbing and poking the heart with their bare hands...cause after a whole day in the hot sun being squished and poked at (and with no bathrooms or running water for miles), I had no idea what lil extra microscopic prizes were growing on my cow heart. And to confirm what I feared, they all wanted the heart. Sick. I knew that they would cook it up and eat it if they took it home and I didn't want to be responsible for a salmonella death, so I told them no one could have the heart. They asked me if I was going to eat it. I said no and tried to teach them about bacteria, but that just sounds dumb and finicky to a kid who has always seen meat purchased after sitting in the market exposed to flies, poked over by anyone and everyone, and handed to the buyer in no packaging whatsoever. My plan was to take the heart home and throw it away, but people always go through our trash. Darn. So I told them that I was going to swim out to one of the islands and feed it to the sharks. Good one, Professora. They told me Allah would be mad at me for that sin. Got me there. After class, they all started following me home. Creepy. So I started running and someone driving by saw the American teacher with cow guts running from a pack of students and gave me a ride. Whew. So anyway, after their initial anger about me burying the heart in a top-secret location wore off, we've been doing a lot better in class. Yay cow hearts. Yay fresh starts.