"Because You Are Lazy"

Before I get into the reason for the blog title and my main motivation to write it, I just have a couple of fun paragraphs first: 

I have been lucky to have people ask what kinds of things we would like in care packages. First of all, we are so thankful for ANYTHING that comes our way. Seriously. You could send us just about anything and we will be happy to see mail from loved ones on the other side of the world! But, if you are feeling like you want some specific suggestions, right now we are all about candy and chocolate (which somehow does not seem to melt as other volunteers have successfully received) hand sanitizer, oh, and I hear a can opener would be good. As the months go on, I know specific toiletries, clothing items and other food will be on the list but that’s really it for now! Also, if you are thinking about sending one while we are still here in training, I would suggest this be the last week you send it out or we may not see it for months. J While we are in Namaacha, mail comes to the main PC office but once I am at my permanent site, I will have a specific address to my house. Since mail can take anywhere from 2-6 weeks to get here, I am thinking that if mail is sent after this week, it may not come until I am already at my site. If my site is nowhere near the PC office, I may not have a chance to pick it up for weeks.  So moral of the story is, if you are kind enough to want to send a package to us after next week, wait until we can provide our permanent address.  And, don’t forget the religious symbols! And, PS, we would love just good old fashion letters too!!!

I am super pumped today because I plan to go to a baking session at a current volunteer’s house. She is in her 3^rd year with Peach Corps and is often sharing her words of wisdom for how to live in Sub-Saharan Africa. Today’s topic is specifically on how to bake yummy baked goods very far away from the ovens we are used to.  A gal needs to satisfy her sweet tooth once in a while, especially when your diet consists of the same 10 staples (i.e. onions, carrots, rice, beans, etc.).  Yesterday, Chris got to partake in the joys of killing our dinner, a chicken. It’s definitely an experience he’ll have to share since it was pretty intense for him. For me, I was just surprised that I was able to watch!  At the end of the process, I was staring at the familiar chicken meat I was used to seeing wrapped up in the Styrofoam carton in the grocery store. It was fascinating to see what it takes to get to that point.  It definitely made me think of the different ways that animals could be killed for food, and there are ways to do it without making the animal suffer. I could probably write an entire blog on this topic but I will stop there!...As the weeks go on, I am continuing to make good friends, becoming more relaxed about learning the language, hiking the waterfalls of Namaacha and practicing English teaching techniques. We are starting to settle into our lives here a bit more but every day. For me, is still a rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows on an hourly basis. Here is a little tale about one of those rides…

As I mentioned in my last blog, Mama Maria is a tough Mozambican woman and is eager to teach us everything she knows about how to live in this country.  About 2 weeks ago, I was sensing a change in the way she was treating me. I was no longer the shiny new house guest; instead, I was starting to be closely observed. She wanted to see how I cut tomatoes on my own, if I boiled the water for my husband’s bath, how I set the table, etc. And many times, I was not doing it right in her eyes. But, I understand that I am here to learn from her and need to be open to her suggestions so I try not to let her (sometimes seemingly harsh) reactions bother me. Friday night however, the situation came to a head. Mama’s South African friend was staying over for the evening and joined Chris and I for dinner. We had met her once before a few weeks earlier.  She does not speak Portuguese, but can speak to Mama in the local language, Swazi, and to us in English. As soon as we sat down to eat, I could feel some sort of tension. Her eyes were fixated on my every move. As we started to serve ourselves, the South African Woman (who I will call SAW from here on out) said to me “You, you are so passive and your husband, he is so active”.  “Why do you say that?” I asked.  “I just always see your husband doing so much, setting the table, always doing things and you are more passive”. I knew where SAW was going, especially after knowing how Mama was feeling about me. I said “I wouldn’t quite say that, but ok”.  I decided to just let the moment pass and move on with the conversation. The rest of dinner was quiet, until I grabbed Chis’ plate to clear the dishes. SAW asks “So, who is going to do the dishes tonight?” Taken aback by this random question, I ask “What?”, she repeats the question but this time in very slow, annunciated  English. I tell her that I understood the question, but I want to know why she is asking. And then, she proceeds to tell me, “Because you are lazy”…Every part of my body started shaking with anger. I wanted to scream, cry, crawl in a hole and jump across the table all in that moment. Chris right away said, “Now wait a minute, there is no reason to be insulting here” at the same time I said, with hands shaking, “Lazy? I don’t think you have the right impression”. In the meantime, I am crushed, thinking about the fact that she has made this assumption from only 2 interactions with me and most likely, from also talking to my Mama who I would like nothing more than to make proud.  SAW continued, “Well, in my culture, the women do everything, they cook clean, etc., and the men just sit around.” Chris asked, “Well how does it make you feel that they just sit around?” She then said, with no expression and in a monotone voice, “I feel nothing.”… And that is when my emotions started to settle. The comment made me realize that these conversations are the reason I am here. These are the cultural juxtapositions I signed up to face. We went on to discuss how in America, things are different with married couples, not always, but generally men help out with things too.  We also explained that Chris has lived in other countries for years at a time, so this is very natural for him whereas for me, the adjustment and culture shock is more difficult.  Mama, in the meantime, did not understand what we were saying since we were speaking English, but I can only guess how SAW translated all of this to her later in Swazi.  We finished dinner, went into our bedroom, and I proceeded to have a little (ok, maybe big, cry). I journaled about it, I talked it out with Chris, and by the end of the night, I was able to sleep well. I feel like a stronger person from this experience because, first and foremost, I did not leave the table. I stayed and finished out the conversation. It took some of the most self-control I have ever had to not cry, freak out or leave. These are the moments that will make me stronger and feel like I can take on anything when I return.  Also, I am still here and with a smile on my face! I woke up the next morning and moved on with my day. I am testing my resiliency every day here, and opportunities are abound for self-reflection and improvement, something that I remind myself is not an easy experience to come by. But back to the topic at hand, the gender differences for married couples here in Mozambique. I may never gain the respect of SAW or more importantly, Mama because they see me as a lazy, spoiled American wife and that is ok. I need to be ok with that because I realize I will be coming up against that impression a lot here. I definitely thought because I was a married woman, I would have an easier time gaining respect in the community but I am finding the opposite to be true. In time, when I become more comfortable with who I am as the new African Laurie, I think I will be able to find the respect. In the meantime, with Chris’ guidance as a cross-cultural guru (I say again, he’s fitting in here like a glove!), I will do what I can to show Mama I want to learn from her, but I need to keep a part of the American Laurie too.

Life With Mama Maria

After living in African lala land for a couple of days (i.e. a lavish hotel in the capital city of Maputo), we have quickly learned what life is really like in Mozambique. We took another one of those overcrowded buses called chapas (say “shop-ah”) from Maputo to the town of Namaacha, where we are now officially Peace Corps trainees for the next 10 weeks.  As soon as we stepped off the Chapa, our Maes and Pais (Moms and Dads) were waiting in a line to greet us. We had about 2 minutes to sit down, let it sink in and allow ourselves to feel like we were about to pass out, and then it was time to find our names on a paper held by an unfamiliar Mozambican person. Our Mae, or Mama as she likes to be called, was the very first person in the lineup. We found out later this was because this women knows her shit! We are the 4^th volunteer she’s had, so she knows how to keep her American “babies” healthy and happy.  She quickly took our hands and led us to our new home.  That was only 6 days ago but it feels like we’ve been here forever. Mama has a way of making you feel comfortable, even if we often can’t communicate with words, so this has quickly become our casa as well.  We live with Mama, whose name is Maria, and her granddaughter, Lura and son, Julho. She has 5 children all together, but the rest are out of the house. With the language barrier, we don’t have all the details on this yet but we’re hoping to figure it out later!  Her daughter, Gillhermina, lives down the street and stops by often. Our living situation in the house is not too bad except that privacy can be an issue, which we are getting used to. We stay in a bedroom in the front of the house and use the bathroom that is across the hall. We are happy to say the bathroom is INSIDE! We are lucky, as many people have a latrine outside. We still have to take our bath and flush our toilet with a bucket, but it’s better than having to stand outside to bathe during the cold Namaacha mornings. The only issue is that the kitchen, which is where the main action of the house takes place, is between out bedroom and the bathroom (hence, the privacy issue). But we are getting used to the set up and how to live like a Mozambican in general. It’s amazing how quickly you can change your mind set when you are put in a totally different environment.  Things that would bother me in the US just don’t bother me here. Trash in the street is normal, getting your clothes and shoes dirty all the time is normal.  I don’t care as much about having my daily outfits in a rotation. You wear what is practical and that’s what matters. Vanity quickly goes out the window.  And, the lifestyle is slow, you need to take your time with everything. You aren’t able to just turn on the faucet and take a shower. It requires boiling water, then adding cool water and lifting up the bucket into the tub. If I did this in my normal quick, clumsy way, I would be sure to fall on my face and/or burn myself!  Taking things slower is a definitely something I will be able to take back to the US.  I have also found that here in Africa, I like tomatoes, beets and to drink tea every day, foods I was not into in the US. Mama is teaching us all about the food here and I have to say, it’s been great! Fish, potatoes, bread, rice, veggies and fruits.  Mama is teaching us everything about living like a Mozambican. As a married couple, we get to learn about the traditional gender roles for a couple including the fact that I should be helping my husband take a bath each day! We haven’t gotten there yet, but I do pour the hot water for him to show we are respecting the traditions. Each day, Chris and I go to our small language classes (we are in different classes) or our entire training group meets to talk about subjects pertaining to how to live in this new environment, what our jobs as teachers will entail, or Mozambican history.  In the evenings, we help our Mama around the house, eat dinner and study. We try to squeeze in a bit of social time with the other volunteers as well. The days are verrrry long. We get up around 5:30 and go to bed around 8:30-9:00 as is normal for this lifestyle. We will have classes on Saturdays and will only get Sundays off, but it really is necessary. We only have 10 weeks to learn how to live in a whole new world. Things are fantastic, we are both happy campers but I do have a dark cloud named “The Portuguese Language” over my head. The amount of things we learn in our language class in one day is insane and I am having trouble figuring out how to study since there is just soooo much to learn and not much time (and BTW, our language lesson is ENTIRELY in Portuguese!).  We get tested on our language proficiency in week 5 and I am not feeling very confident at this point, but, as they say, I will learn pouco a pouco (little by little)! 

Love to all!

PS- More information on sending packages: It’s been confirmed that if you write religious terminology on the package, it is much more likely to get to us without being opened. So I would just go ahead and pretend we are brethren of the church! It’s best to address us as Sister Laurie Williams and Brother Christopher Williams as well as drawing crosses and writing things like “Jesus is Lord”. I know, this sounds ridiculous. But we will be really happy when we actually receive the goodies you send!  Oh and if the post office makes you claim a dollar amount on the package, do not claim over $5.00 (even if it’s more) or there will be customs fees that we’ll have to pay out of our very small PC salary. Ok, thanks for listeningJ. We would LOVE letters or packages!!!

PPS-My apologies for the absolutely horrific grammar on my last post. I will blame that on jet lag and adrenaline! I am making a commitment to you, dear blogger, that I will review my postings before looking like I should not be an English teacher.