Boleia

I’ve caught a boleia to make my way back home. After loading the two new bikes and settling on a price with the driver I climb aboard the truck and sit with two young men amongst the fruits, chairs, and bicycles. After exchanging pleasantries one of the men tears off a hunk of soft bread and tosses it to me. I hand him and his friend some powdered drink mix and the smiles stretch from Mozambique to Arkansas. They’re headed farther north to Nampula; a long ride on this hard truck bed. It is clear these two men are not of means but they buy and share a chicken dinner from a street vender without hesitation.

Children begin to collect around the truck to tease me and I tease back. They ask for my money. I ask for their shirts in exchange. As we pull away the children flip their thumbs in the air and yell something in xitswa that I don’t understand. I toss them a peace sign.

We’re moving fast now down the EN1 and I think that I may make it home before dark. The wind is strong and beats my head on all sides like a pillow fight. The air is the perfect temperature. Only the wind tells me where my skin ends and the world around me begins.

 

Wine and Cheese Night

There is no better remedy for a hard week than wine and cheese. We set out Friday evening in the hopes that we might nurse ourselves back to health with the best vinho and quejo Mozambique has to offer.

As we waited by the roadside trying to flag down passing trucks, Alice and I swooned over the imaginary taste of Gouda and goat cheese and licked our lips to the ghosts of shiraz and pinot noir. Would we find fruits? Dare we dream of dark chocolate? Back home we would often skip dinner and round up our friends and these guilty pleasures to bring them together in a symphony for our eager tongues. Locating them would be hard, but we feared that failing to would be far worse.

There were rumors that a South African store in Vilanculo had a small selection of fine liquers and the odd bottle of wine along with a modist selection of two or three cheeses that were not served out of can or squeezed from a tube.

When we arrived at the store two hours later imagine our joy at finding not only Chedder and seasoned goat cheese, but also apples, peaches, and, yes, dark chocolate! Sparing no expense and wasting no time we hastily checked out with our bounty and hitched back to the chapa stand to get a ride home. The forty-five minute ride dragged on as Alice’s and my fingers tapped against our backpacks loaded with the food of the gods.

Once back at the school we nearly sprinted for the door and once inside quickly began preparing our feast.
First, uncork the wine and let it breath. Next, slice the apples paper thin and break up the chocolate. When all was ready we sat across from each other and decanted the wine into our finest glassware that had held mustard in another life. Without a word we dove into our drinks. We tore at hearty piecies of bread and piled them high before stuffing them into our mouths.
It was an unbelievable treat, to be sure. It had been over four months since our last glass of wine and we had all but given up on enjoying real cheese for the next two years, but something was missing.

Maybe the bread was too soft, the wine too acidic, the cheese not quite sharp enough to remind you to take another sip. Maybe it was the heat that took the crisp out of the apples. Maybe it was the conspicuous absence of our friends back home that make Wine and Cheese Night about more than fine food.

 

Yes, I’m Still Alive

I don’t know which is worse. The fact that I haven’t updated my blog in roughly four months or that what I am about to write is completely and utterly inadequate to capture all that has happened in that time.

First, the basics. I spent the first several months in training and I am happy to report that I am now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. Language classes threatened to keep me from swearing in, but in the end they felt I would still make a decent volunteer even though I can hardly string two sentences together in Portuguese. I have to admit, as I stood to take the oath I was more affected by the words than I expected to be. Swearing to “protect the United States of America from all enemies foreign and domestic” is some pretty heavy stuff! So if you see any photos of me at the ceremony and I look a little misty eyed, it is because the sun was in my eyes…or something like that.

I have been at my permanent site for a little over a month now. I wish I could tell you exactly where, but it’s a little touchy divulging the precise location of US Government employees abroad (cue the James Bond theme).

I live at a Catholic mission school in a little town in southern Mozambique that is not too far from Vilancolu and the surreal waterscapes of the Bazzaruto archipelago. I’ll be uploading some low resolution photos to show you what I mean as soon as I find reliable Internet access for a reasonable price. As of now we are relegated to using our cell phone as a low bandwidth modem.

Alice and I really are enjoying our new home, especially now that we have gotten rid of all the bats that were living in the house when we arrived. No, we don’t have electricity nor do we have running water, but we do have the most spectacular night sky I have ever seen. It is simply stunning.

Until recently Alice and I have been passing the days working on making our house into a home. There is a little video of some of my handiwork below. I got tired of taking bucket baths in a shower that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie, so I scrubbed it good. Then I used an old water filter, some twine, two broomsticks, and duct tape (god, I love that stuff!) to fashion myself an overhead shower. Works like a charm.

Now that school has started my days are being filled with preparing lessons for the two chemistry and one English class that I teach. I can’t tell you what a challenge it is to teach chemistry when the students do not have textbooks or even a periodic table of elements to refer to.

Today Alice and I are at a nearby town to pick up a deep cell battery to go with the one that we already broke. We’re desperately trying to bring power to our house, so wish us luck!

I hope to write again soon. In the meantime, I would love to hear what you want to know about my expereince so far. Just click on the comments button and shoot me your requests. Tchau!

Casa de Banho

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Tchau!

We had a wonderful gathering at Miller and Jordan’s this morning complete with quiche and cocktails.  I don’t typically enjoy big crowds at 8:00 AM on a Monday, so it means a lot when I say that it was a pitch-perfect send-off.  There were tears, to be sure, but I dare say the atmosphere was down-right festive.  No one can accuse Alice and me of being unloved.

The numbness of the day’s events hasn’t worn off yet.  In fact, I don’t know if I will be able to truly wrap my head around this whole thing until we land in Africa in a couple of days.  It is like I can’t form an accurate picture of what we are walking into, so I keep seeing flashes of the Hollywood version of Africa  (think: ”Blood Diamond”).  I know it is absurd to rely on the movies for guidance, but at this point it is all I have to go on.  The next couple of days will be so far outside of my everyday experience that I expect my mind will be blown at least once every hour after arriving at our final destination.  For now, I am content relaxing in a cozy hotel room, watching awful television, and enjoying drinks with ice in them.

 

Now With Video Goodness!

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…And Then There Were Ninjas

Where to begin? Let’s start with the basics. I’ve been in five states and driven over 3000 miles (props to mamaw for the van) since I last posted. We figured that if we weren’t leaving the country in June as planned, then we would at least leave the state and gather some memories of the good ‘ol U.S. of A.

First stop: Durango, Colorado for some backcountry living. There really just isn’t anything like spending time with Mother Nature to clear your head. After acclimating at 9000ft, Alice and I headed up Ute Creek on the north end of the Weminuche Wilderness. We took it pretty easy and found ourselves camping on a slope over a spectacular valley where the middle, east, and west forks of the Ute converge. Upon arrival, we encountered what can only be described as a band of ninja chipmunks. Few have seen them; fewer have lived to tell the tale. After one nearly chewed through my pants to get at my granola, I declared war. As the battles raged on, food supplies dwindled and spirits reached an all-time low. We finally achieved victory through rigging an ingenious web-like structure of rope and food bags (ingenious to a brain the size of a gummy bear, anyway). In the aftermath, I was faced with one undeniable truth: that I must go forth and catch fish.

It was a long day at the riverside with nothing to show for it. A few little fingerlings in a small pool were all I could land. That is, until about 6:00. That’s when I could do no wrong and they were hitting everything I threw at them. The water I was fishing couldn’t have been more than a meter deep and ten meters across, but I hauled in five nice Rainbows and a real nice Colorado Greenback Cutthroat in a matter of 45 minutes! We were saved! As luck would have it, Alice found a grate for grilling at an abandoned camp while on a day hike and schlepped it 3 miles back to camp. Though she was famished and near death, I was able to nurse her back to health with copious amounts of fresh trout that evening.

After nine days in a tent, I smelled like a baboon covered in fish sauce so we were thinking it was time for a proper bed and a shower, so up we went to Denver to see my cousin, Kevin. We hung there for about week to recoup. Kevin and I jammed around the clock and even did a little open mic gig. Our “band” name? Buckets of Awesome. Yeah. We rock.

Our good friend, Toni, was able to fly out and meet us for a little more R and R in the woods. West we went to the Rocky Mountain National Forest. Lost Lake was so serene I felt like I was in a Jack Handy skit on SNL. I caught another nice Colorado Greenback, but they are protected in these parts, so no BBQ that night. We had a nice evening looking at shooting stars with our friendly neighbor from across the lake and before we knew it, our five days in the woods were over. Back to Denver for more jam sessions and showers.

Next, the three of us headed to Kansas to hang out with my old lab mate from Houston. Aaron and his (very cool) parents live in Newton just north of Wichita. They were great to us and it was nice to catch up with Aaron before heading back home to Arkansas.

My cousin Kevin said we could crash his business trip to Corpus Cristi.  We loaded up the van once more and headed south.  The elevation swing from 11,000 feet to zero feet played havoc on my circulation and my feet and legs swelled up like Jay Leno’s chin.  It was all worth it for a couple of days on the beach with family and friends.

We had a short break back at home base in Fayetteville and then took a family trip to the White River with my dad, sister, and her two-year-old, Sage. More camping ensued and good times were had by all. We caught our limit on the last day. The 19 inch Brown I caught was nice, but my dad took home the gold medal with his 20 inch Rainbow.

We then set our sights on New York City. I had never been, so I begged and pleaded to tag along for Alice’s book release party in Manhattan. Did I mention my wife is a poet? Yeah, she’s got here own ISBN now. Pretty cool. The party was great and Alice did an amazing job reading. I did an amazing job of running up Spire Press’ tab.

Well dear reader, that, in a nut shell, was my endless summer. I’ll never forget it.

Little did I know, his friend was in my pocket.

Home sweet home.

I can see Russia from up here!

Alice: camp cookie.

How much farther?

Nice scarf dude.

Now that's just gross.

Moonrise.

A totally candid shot. I swear!

Colorado Greenback.

To him, I'm E GEE GEE GEE (translation: uncle A.J.)

Hangin' with the boys.

Ridiculously cute.

This was attempt number 56 at a shot.

 

From Coast to Coast

As you may have noticed, my banner at the top of the page has changed to reflect my new assignment to (drum roll, please)…Mozambique!  Now instead of telling people to picture a beautiful beach without the water I can simply tell people to picture a beautiful beach.  The photo above is a bit misleading.  It is of Ibo Island, one of of a chain of islands in northern Mozambique.  Along with beautiful beaches and amazing sea life, Mozambique has an extremely high HIV/AIDS rate, abject poverty, spitting cobras, black mambas, and the occasional land mine.

To say that I am excited is an understatement.  For those of you needing a geography lesson, Mozambique is a long, skinny country almost twice the size of California.  It is situated directly across from Madagascar on the Indian Ocean.

Unfortunately, I won’t be needing all of the french I have been studying.  The fine people of Mozambique speak Portuguese, Swahili, and a smattering of other languages.  My job has changed as well.  Instead of environmental education I will be teaching Biology and Chemistry.

Alice and I depart on or around September 28th, so we are going to be couch surfing for quite a while longer.  In the meantime, below are some links to get you acquainted with my soon-to-be new home.  Enjoy!

Wikipedia: Mozambique

CIA: The World Factbook: Mozambique

Mozambique Flickr Photos

 

Stop Me if You’ve Heard This One

So there’s this guy and this girl.  One day they wake up and decide to go into the Peace Corps.  A year and a half goes by as they eagerly prepare to go to Mauritania, where it is wicked hot and you still have to wear pants.  Three days before the brave young couple leave for the Sahara, Peace Corps calls and puts the whole deal on ice for a couple of months.  There is much gnashing of teeth and pouting  when ALL OF THE SUDDEN……….THE PEACE CORPS CANCELS THE WHOLE DAMN TRIP!

Badump ching…<chirp><chirp>………….<chirp>.

Thank you. Thank you. I’ll be here all week.  Erm…I mean for an indefinite amount of time.

Maybe my comedy needs a little work, but the punchline is something you can only laugh at, because what else is there to do?

Trouble with visas was the assignment’s official cause of death, but elections on the horizon combined with a U.S. citizen being murdered two days ago didn’t help.

I’ll be calling Peace Corps bright and early tomorrow to get some more info.  Stay tuned.  The saga continues.

 

You Know That Feeling…

You know that feeling you get when you board a roller coaster and the safety bar clamps down on your shoulders? Your senses are heightened and time slows down. You can’t shake the feeling that maybe you shouldn’t have gotten on, but at the same time, you are gleefully anticipating the unknown dips, twists, and turns that are ahead. Well, imagine that feeling when all of the sudden, the bar lifts and the pimple-faced operator tells you there will be a slight delay before the ride will resume.

Folks, my roller coaster operator called yesterday and told me that I won’t be riding for another TWO MONTHS! Yes, I am afraid that my departure to Mauritania has been delayed due to difficulties getting visas for my invitee group. It appears that the interim government is not giving them out. For those of you not up to speed, the Mauritanian president was ousted in a bloodless coup led by the country’s military leader.  The military guy has since stepped down so that he can run for president. There has been a bit of contention over election dates and oversight.  In fact, until recently things have been a little tumultuous in the streets.  The good news is that the elections have been pushed back to mid July and things are calming down over there. The bad news is that we will have to wait until mid August to be clear for takeoff.

I suppose since my calendar is now wide open, I can use this time to practice french, take a road trip, learn guitar, take up knitting–hell anything to keep me sane while I wait.

So, what would you do with no job, no house, a spotless calendar, and two months to kill?

 

“Peace Corps invites you to serve”

Well, it’s official.  Today Alice and I received our invitation to serve in the Peace Corps!  It has been a year-and-a-half process involving many essays, shots, and piles of paperwork.  As I look at my invitation to serve in Mauritania, Africa I can’t help but feel a sense of pride.  It is an honor to have the opportunity to represent the United States abroad.  There have been just under 200,000 Volunteers and trainees since the Corps was established on March 1, 1961 and I can now count myself among this elite group.

There is a long road ahead.  We leave on June 14 for staging in Philadelphia.  There we will receive some more shots and a little orientation before jumping back on a plane and heading to Nouakchott, Mauritania.  We will arrive on June 17th and be shuttled off to training in Rosso, a town on the southern boarder with Senegal.

I don’t get to call myself a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) quite yet.  First I must complete three months of intensive language, cultural, and work-related training.  If I pass, only then do I receive the title of a PCV.  If all goes well, from there Alice and I will head to our permanent site where I will be an Environmental Education/Awareness Agent and  Alice will serve as an English Teacher Trainer.

If you are wondering where Mauritania is and what it is all about, follow the links below for a little info.  I have been telling people to picture a beautiful sunny beach…. minus the water. Yeah, it is pretty much dunes as far as the eye can see if the pictures I have found are typical.

This blog is my attempt to capture the experience.  Please check back here for my thoughts, photos, and (possibly) videos of my experience.  Enjoy!

Mauritania Wiki

Mauritania Research Guide

Google images for “Mauritania”

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” -Walden, Henry David Thoreau