How the heck will I wash my neck if it ain't gonna rain no more?

Well, you pump water out of the ground, of course! Here's a step-by-step guide on how to get water from nature to kitchen in Nauela.

Step one: pump water into bucket.
Takes about 1 minute and 30 seconds per big bucket

Step 2: Take a capulana (colorful cloth) and roll it up into a snake

Step 3: wrap cloth around head and tie it, to
make a more comfortable surface for the bucket to sit on

Step 4: Bend knee, put bucket on knee, then lift it up to head.
In this picture, my 9th grader Genito looks on, saying
 in English, "Teacher, you have power!"
Optional: spill lots of water on clothes.

Step 5: Carry water back to house. Above is my
water carrying limit: 20 liters on my head, and
5 liters in my right hand.

The Library Project

This is Lavinia.

She is 13 years old, and has never met Curious George, the Cat in the Hat, or Clifford.

Please help me introduce her to them.

What I Am Doing

As a Peace Corps Education Volunteer in Nauela, Mozambique, I spend my days scribbling vocabulary on a chalkboard, singing repeat-after-me songs, and teaching students how to pronounce “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.” When I am not in the classroom, I’m making sure the girls’ soccer team gets its allotted time on the field, helping students prepare a new issue of The Daily Macarena, or trying not to burn my rice and beans.

Not one of our 1,015 high school students has the childhood memories I do of being surrounded by shelves of books, then picking out a stack to borrow and take home. This is why three Mozambican teachers and I are building a library.

As one of my students, just learning English, wrote, “Every time you are intelligent, your knowledge will be large.” Reading is one of the best ways to expand your knowledge – we want to give curious kids the opportunity to experience these other worlds!

How You Can Help

Our students have already helped by starting to make the mud-bricks for the library walls, but we need some financial assistance with the rest of the structure.

To make a donation, just go to the link below by clicking on the words "Curious George" and enter the amount you would like to donate in the contribution box under “project details,” then follow the instructions. It’s quick, easy, and encourages reading and learning – and is tax deductible!

click here to help Curious George travel to Mozambique 

Here’s an idea of what your donation can do:

One brick: $0.10

9th grade biology textbook: $6.00

30-lb bag of cement: $17.00

Door: $50.00

Solar panel: $180.00

School full of smiling faces: Priceless. (just kidding, it’s actually $4,840.00)

Thank you from the students of Nauela!

The Ants Go Marching 100 by 100

Strength in numbers, that’s what they say. It’s me against one thousand tiny ants, and they’re clearly winning, because it’s 2 in the morning and I’m sitting amidst them on the bed, writing about how they’re bothering me, when I should be sleeping. It’s an army and they have launched a surprise attack.

I’m staying at a friend’s house on the way to another friend’s house, because I left my site this morning but won’t reach my destination until tomorrow. She arranged a nice large mattress with a sheet on the floor for me, but unfortunately, it’s ant season, and ants don’t respect personal space.

They’re like mini chocolate chips – because they’re small, so many more of them can fit in a given area. They started in one corner of the bed, so I swept them off and moved to the other corner, but they brought back-ups and are now swarming half the bed and have surrounded the other side. I’m curled up on the only unoccupied space, but they keep finding me. One just crawled across the paper I’m writing on. Two are actually inside the lantern, crawling around between the small lightbulbs and the plastic covering, making strange shadows on my notebook. How did they find their way into the lantern? I have no idea, but those two are now trapped, I just have to figure out how to deal with the other nine hundred ninety nine.

Instead of valiantly defending myself, I will burst into song:

The ants go marching one by one, porra, porra*

The ants go marching one by one, porra, porra

The ants go marching one by one, they wake me up, they think it’s fun

And they all go marching in

From outside

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching two by two, porra, porra*

The ants go marching two by two, porra, porra

The ants go marching two by two, and now I don’t know what to do

And they all go marching in

To the house

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching three by three, porra, porra*

The ants go marching three by three, porra, porra

The ants go marching three by three, oh why won’t they just let me be

And they all go marching up

On the bed

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching four by four, porra, porra*

The ants go marching four by four, porra, porra

The ants go marching four by four, they just keep coming, more and more

And they all go marching in

To the sheets

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching five by five, porra, porra*

The ants go marching five by five, porra, porra

The ants go marching five by five, you squish one and it’s still alive

And they all go marching in

To my hair

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching six by six, porra, porra*

The ants go marching six by six, porra, porra

The ants go marching six by six, their pincers feel like little pricks

And they all go marching a-

Cross the floor

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching seven by seven, porra, porra*

The ants go marching seven by seven, porra, porra

The ants go marching seven by seven, I want to sleep, it’s 2:11

And they all go marching o-

ver my arms

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching eight by eight, porra, porra*

The ants go marching eight by eight, porra, porra

The ants go marching eight by eight, what can I do? Just sit and wait

And they all go marching on

The mattress

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching nine by nine, porra, porra*

The ants go marching nine by nine, porra, porra

The ants go marching nine by nine, a midnight snack, on me they dine

And they all go marching in

To my clothes

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching ten by ten, porra, porra*

The ants go marching ten by ten, porra, porra

The ants go marching ten by ten, swept them away, came back again

And they all go marching in

To my dreams
To get out
Of the rain

*porra = a Mozambican-Portuguese interjection meaning "what the heck!" or "shoot!" (to put it kindly)

Rain

I’m sitting here listening to the rain on the roof. But not just any roof. This is a tin roof. This is rain on a tin roof.

When it pours, it’s deafening. It hurts my eardrums. I can’t think. If I scream, the person next to me can barely hear me. If I’m alone, I just stand in the middle of the living room and don’t know what to do. It sounds like a never-ending cymbal crash. It is spectacular.

When it rains, everything stops. People stand on the nearest porch and look out. Conversations are halted, because you can’t hear. Lessons are interrupted. Since they would have to walk outside, teachers can’t walk from one classroom to another, and teachers already in classrooms can’t shout over the rain. It’s physically impossible.

Then after 20 minutes the cloud goes away and everything feels fresh and washed and the sun comes out and my buckets are full of water, people on their walks steps out from under the porches they had scurried under and continue walking, teachers wrap up and move on to the next class, and life continues on from where it left off.

My bucket fills up with rainwater coming off
the roof. Don't worry - this water goes
 into the toilet, not into my stomach.

The view from my front door - small garden,
bamboo fence, and mango trees.

Why I was actually kidding about the previous post

You know my love-hate relationship with the internet. And my minimalist tendencies. But here’s why I appreciate electricity more than I ever have:

-          At night, you can just flick a switch and have visibility for more than a 2-foot sphere around you

-          Machines are fast and easy. Washing machines, toasters, electric kettles, fans, cell phones with full batteries, shrink wrapping machines... Sure, we can live without them. But it’s so much easier, more comfortable and time-saving to live with them.

-          You can write a lesson plan after 6 pm without straining your eyes

-          The afternoon session of school could actually go until 5:30 pm like it’s supposed to, even in the winter when it gets dark as you are beginning your last class

-          Your hands don’t turn black with charcoal dust every time you want to drink tea

-          You can turn the stove on “low” and let something simmer, instead of burning everything (charcoal is hard to turn on low)

-          You can calculate your grades for 300 students with just a few clicks on Excel

-          Worksheets and tests can be printed and photocopied for students, instead of every student copying it off the board

-          When you don’t feel like being social, you can stay in your house and watch 15 episodes of New Girl in a row

So, try it sometimes, and you can decide for yourself how you would rather live. In summary, here’s how I really feel – the following 3 sentences were written by the same person (me), on 3 separate occasions:

“I’ll be able to say I didn’t have electricity for 2 years!”

“Having no electricity is annoying sometimes.”

“WHY IS THERE NO ELECTRICITY IN MY HOUSE?!?”

Clearly, I have mixed feelings about the issue.

Why everyone should experience living with no electricity for one year

-          Your other 4 senses become more perceptive

-          Your electronics will last 7 times as long

-          You learn to differentiate the animal by the rustle it makes

-          You look really cool carrying around a battery powered short wave radio with a flash drive sticking out of it playing 10 songs over and over

-          You have romantic candlelit dinners every night

-          Your time on the internet becomes very efficient

-          You spend more time with other people instead of staying inside on the computer (like I’m doing now)

Welcome to my house at 12pm

Welcome to my house at 7pm

Divas, Headscarves, and Pumpkins

Last week a Big Important Event took place in Nauela. Believe it or not, this does happen once in a while. For example, one day someone sold cucumbers in the market, and another day a student raised a question during class, and one day I used only 1 match and less than 10 minutes to light my charcoal stove, and yet another day my girls’ soccer team scored a goal during a real game.  Ok, so Big Important Events happen a lot.

But this time people came from all over Zambezia (the province I live in, basically like a state of Mozambique) and even a few from the other end of the country to celebrate the 100^th birthday of the Evangelical Church of Mihecane, located in Nauela.

The celebration lasted 2 days, and luckily in the middle of this rainy season it did not rain a single drop. At least, not one fell on my head. On Fridays, dozens of cars and pick-up trucks drove by bringing hundreds of singing people five miles down the road and into the bush where the church is located. Each group brought everything needed to prepare their own meals (kilos of beans and rice, along with cauldron-sized pots to prepare them in) and to sleep outside or in various abandoned buildings (tents, straw mats, blankets).

On Saturday I arrived in Mihecane perched on the back of a bike (someone else was pedaling). I had friends coming from other cities so I found them and then milled about marveling at the crowds that I don’t think Nauela had ever seen before. The main event of the day - a competition between 29 choral groups - began around 11, so I found a nice naturally well-lit spot to take pictures, and promptly got a sunburn.

At 5:30pm, when it was about to start getting dark and there were still 12 groups left to sing, I decided to start walking the 5-ish miles back home with 2 friends who were staying at my house. We had excellent luck and within 3 minutes of leaving, a pick-up truck pulled up to let us on. I settled onto the floor for a bumpy ride, listening to the people around me singing for all Nauela to hear.

We were welcomed home by poop splotches everywhere, left by a chicken that I accidentally named Gabriela. She and I had bonded during lunch the previous day after I bought her; she pecked her raw rice and I chewed my peanut butter sandwich, but I didn’t meant to name her since she would be my dinner for Saturday. But, all turned out well, and we had grilled chicken and good conversations that night.

I went back to Mihecane the next day on foot, arriving in time to see everyone packing up to go home. I caught another pick-up truck ride on the way back, and had another bout of excellent luck – just 2 minutes after I mentioned that I had been awaiting the return of pumpkin season since last March, I came across a woman selling a bucket of pumpkins, for 20 cents each.

So I bought all seven of them.

It was a good weekend.

I didn't know this many people knew that Nauela exists

Choral group with matching outfits

Animated choral group and Diva

The women stood in front and the men stood in back, so
the microphones only picked up the women's voices...

Crowds and headscarves.
This country is quite colorful.

Sitting in the back of a pick-up truck on the way home from the church.
Bumpy road, hence bumpy photo.

Singing in the pick-up truck!

Students Handling Chalk Caught White-Handed

I am pleased to announce the release of our first school newspaper, “Jornal Makarena: O Saber Ler” (“The Daily Macarena: Knowing How to Read”).

Before

After

In Edition 1, published just this morning, you will find a suspenseful rendition of the wall of a house falling down because of the rain, an exciting premonition of which school’s soccer team will have the most screaming fans this year (Headline: “Nearing the Days of Truth”) and even a poem in English (“Part I: When I Was Baby”).

Eighth, ninth and tenth grade journalist apprentices could be found copying their articles by hand onto blank paper in an empty classroom last Wednesday.

Allegedly, the press was then pressed eye-catchingly onto a blackboard using duct tape, and is now standing proudly in front of the school for all to appreciate.

During the Monday and Friday bi-weekly all-school meetings, select students read aloud, reporter-style, a summary of this week’s hottest news topics: the weather, a donation of 2 markers to the school newspaper, and an eraser thief on the loose.

Next week’s update - Edition 2 of the Daily Macarena - is not to be missed. It will include a color-coded level super-easy Sudoku, and the poem “Part II: When I Was Child.”

If Nauela wasn’t making it into the press, it is now making its own press!

If You Give a Mouse a Potato

The true story of the mischievous rat that lives in my couch

Based on the book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Joffe Numeroff

If you give a mouse a potato (by accident)

He’s not going to ask for another one.

He’ll just take it, without permission.

When you buy more potatoes,

You’ll probably hide them inside a bucket so he can’t get at them.

When you want to cook them

You’ll discover they got all moldy

And realize you’ve been tricked

By a small fur-ball

With a brain the size of an almond.

When the potatoes are polished off,

He’ll probably start in on the eggs

Which will make you really mad…

So mad, you’ll probably bait a mouse trap with a dollop of your precious peanut butter

And hide it behind his favorite hideout:

The living room couch

Which will lead you to discover

That he is actually not a mouse at all, but a rat

No wonder he didn’t eat the peanut butter;

He is too big to fit through the mousetrap door.

You know this because you saw him poke his head out of the chair in the living room.

But that’s ok, you didn’t like that chair anyway.

It looks squashy but it’s not.

Since he couldn’t reach the peanut butter

And you hid the potatoes

And Nauela hasn’t sold eggs in 8 months

And raw onions probably make rats cry too

He’ll might chew all the labels off your containers

And then start in on the containers themselves.

Even if there’s nothing in them.

He won’t realize until it’s too late

That he’s chewed through the bottom of a bottle of bleach

And spilled it everywhere.

But he won’t learn from his mistake.

He’ll also chew through a bottle of oil.

But after letting the oil loose

He’ll feel a rumble in his stomach.

So he’ll decide to try the onions after all.

He may hide a bunch of them behind your charcoal sack in the corner.

The charcoal will make him think that

Maybe he wants a potato.

And chances are, if he eats one potato,

He’s going to take another without asking.

Left: mousetrap. Right: Stuffing that he pulled
out of the couch and left in a pile. Bed? Soft landing?
 Playground? You'll have to ask him yourself.

This liter of oil was full when I left my house
one week before. Now most of it is on the kitchen
floor and sunken into the wooden table.

He keeps a collection of onions behind the charcoal. Sneaky.

50 First Days of School

When I was in high school, the first day of school was always full of excitement, nervousness, and kids trying to arrive to class on time, thinking “this year I’ll be organized and do this the whole year.” In the high school I’m in now, it’s basically the opposite. It is decidedly not cool, and also pointless, to show up on time (or at all) on the first day. Let me give you a sample of something I wrote last January, to illustrate what the [official] first day of school was like.

I was told that school was supposed to start at 6:30. At 6:51, it’s still just me and an empty schoolyard. 

 At 7:09, kids in uniforms start showing up. I ask someone when school starts. Them: “7:00.” Me: “oh…right.” Silly me. 

 7:37, secretary arrives, opens the school building, still no sign of other teachers or director. 

 8:39, I have no idea what is going on, besides nothing. Is there no such thing as wasting time here? What the heck am I supposed to be doing right now? Did I misunderstand something? Do they know something I don’t? How did they all know not to get here when the director said to get here? 

 9:24, enough of this crap. I’m going home. 

5 weeks later: I’m on my way to school to see if they need help with anything, and I run into my director who’s on his way out. “Actually, we do have a problem that maybe you can help us with. Let’s go sit down and talk about it.” He turns around and I follow him back towards his office. “The 8th graders are without an English teacher, because he left.” 

 So I am now teaching English instead of physics.

I felt like I had mentally prepared for so many first days of school. I was prepared for the official first day of school; it didn’t happen. Then we made a schedule and I thought to myself “now school will really start,” and hardly any kids showed up. Then kids and teachers showed up, and I thought, “this is how it will be for the rest of the year.” Then a month after school started, I switched subjects. Then in March, we made the official roster and re-assigned kids their students ID numbers.

The point of the story is, I’ve learned from last year. I know that there will be no teachers, students, classes, or schedule the first official week of classes. That week, I determined which teacher would teach which subject (often, there is no teacher for a certain subject, such as Agriculture or Design, so a Biology or Math teacher must take over a subject they didn’t study) organized the schedule with my director (which is still being re-organized as of now, 3 weeks into the year) and read a lot.

This year, instead of preparing for a first day of school, I try to prepare for anything.

But it turns out, there’s always something you didn’t imagine happening, and consequently, are not prepared for it. How do you prepare for that?

I saw this sign on a plane and thought it was funny.
It describes perfectly the first day of school.

School uniform: white on top and black on
 the bottom. Minus the sunglasses.