Hello from the Northern Hemisphere. I thought I was getting to skip winter this year but happenstance has me home in DC for most of January and February. The break in my right wrist, held in place by my neon pink cast, is a couple weeks from being fully healed. The left wrist is in a removable brace; I can move it around but it is still extremely stiff from surgery (permanent metal plate and eight bolts). I am regaining mobility in my left elbow, scars are closing up, and the shaved patch on my head is slowly growing back. And I'm off the sickening post-exposure drugs I had to take for a month. The orthopedist thinks I should be in good enough shape to go back to Mozambique in late February.
I flew from Johannesburg back to Maputo on January 3rd to give a police statement in Macia and clear my valuables out of old house. The Macia police chief showed us the wrecked car in the lot behind the station and grinned at me as I turned away, saying in Portuguese, "Man, I can't believe you lived." Thanks, Chief. Very professional.
I got to see a few friends in Maputo on the night of the 4th then flew out business class back to DC on the 5th. Since then, I've been home decompressing, seeing a few friends, and rehabing my wrists, elbow, and shoulder. Overall, doing pretty well. Enjoying good food and a luxurious house. A bit strange being popped out of Peace Corps world back to a home I didn't expect to see for a couple years. Assuming the orthopedist and counselor clear me, I should be back on a plane to southern Africa in less than a month. Will surely be another strange transition back in, but I am definitely looking forward to it. I will be assigned to a new site (to be away from the scene of the accident) that is yet to be determined.
For now, I am drinking tea and building cool shit out of legos. Oh yeah, and hanging around with our newly adopted cat, Sofie, aka Ziggy Cheese Sauce. I can be reached on my old American cellphone for the time being.
I wrote a post on December 15th (five days before the accident) that I never had a chance to publish about life at my site in Macia. While it is no longer relevant (I am moving), I thought I would give you guys a little picture of what life there was and would have been. A few photos from my last days in Namaacha and Directors Conference in Bilene are also attached.
After a couple days in Maputo to “swear-in” at the ambassador’s house and enjoy a final night out as a training group, we scattered to our regional directors conferences. I, along with the fifteen other kids sticking around the southern region, piled into Peace Corps trucks and cruised up the EN1 (Estrada Nacional 1; Mozambique’s main highway) to Bilene. Our little hotel was literally on the beach of the calm turquoise lagoon that divides the town from the deserted spit of sand dunes protecting the inner-body of water from the waves of the Indian Ocean.
The goal of the conference was basically to meet our school directors and get us all on the same page. An 8 am to 5 pm schedule was easily condensed into half day sessions that left the afternoon, evening, and night open for seafood lunches, lagoon swims, slackline sessions on the white sand, dinner feasts (it should be noted here that we had been subsisting on bread, fried stuff, and fried stuff up to this point), and final nights reminiscing about training. We rented a boat and cruised out to the Indian Ocean one afternoon; deserted beaches and the force of a rough sea gave me some Northern California nostalgia. Pool (as in the game with balls and sticks) and cold beers filled the later hours.
Bilene is about 35 km from where I am now setting up my home. Assuming some kind soul picks up the mulunga (‘white person’ in Changana) standing on the side of the road, that trip should take less than 45 minutes. Whether it’s to hang out in a sandy yard with Portuguese expats playing pool or to cantilevered-spirit-quest (read that as a verb, please) by a campfire on the dunes by the ocean, I plan to make my way out there frequently.
Anyway, we wrapped up the conference on Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning my boxes and my body were dropped off at the house I will call home for the next two years. Note: I have not lived in one house for more than eight months since high school. A life of seemingly constant transition will finally see some stability in Mozambique?
As far as Peace Corps standards go, I live in absolute luxury. My school’s teacher housing was built two years ago; I have electricity, running water, and a fridge. Compare that to some of the kids up north living in thatch houses with no energy or running water. To be honest, I had really been looking forward to the simplicity of occupying my days with fetching water, lighting charcoal, and sleeping and rising with the sun for the next couple of years (I really mean that seriously). Alas, my life will not be the idealized picture of the escapist mind. On the upside, not occupying my time building fires to heat my bath water means that I will have time to do lots of other cool stuff. A nice house is nice, but two-year old military-base style housing feels a bit sterile next to the “cane” houses across the street. I’m planning to spend the next few weeks putting time into adding character to the place.
I have the slackline tied up between a porch column and a fence post; the kids next door are already hopping the fence into my yard to do their best Filipe Petit impressions. I dug up the backyard this evening in preparation for the “machamba” that should produce some tasty food for me over the next few years (planned: papaya trees, tomatoes, pumpkin, hot peppers, squash, TBD). I commissioned a carpenter in town to build me some benches (only $5 each!) for the fire pit that I plan to dig tomorrow in the backyard. I am scheming to use a Peace Corps map making resource (they give us a massive software file, MozSoft, before we finish training) to paint a giant world map on my living room wall. Though apparently the school might not be ok with me painting maps on my walls…
So aside from having to walk 45 minutes along the highway to get into town and living in characterless housing (did the Chinese build this place? They did pay to repave the highway here…) things are moving along nicely. Once work starts I will be a five minute walk through a field to class. The trek to town should keep me in shape. Living on the highway means 30 second waits to hitch rides all over the country. The beach is close. Macia has most everything you could expect to buy in Mozambique. My school is fresh and new. And I got the next five weeks to putts about building a badass garden, digging a fire pit (and then roasting freshly slaughtered chicken over it), playing with my inherited dog Bee-Bop , perfecting my line walking abilities (I can walk backwards now!), going to beach, and probably reading a bunch.
Saturday (as in December 17th; I lag between writing and posting these) will be enjoyed at the beach meeting other Peace Corps people from around Gaza Province. Sunday will be spent at the home of my new “host family” (the head of secretaries at my school is taking me in, as she did with the last PCV here) presumably feasting.
For all of you wondering why your tax dollars are funding this, let me tell you that I am going to give some damn inspiring physics lessons come school year!
