Scene - outside my house in the village on Friday afternoon.
Random Villager 1: Oh hello sister. What are you doing?
Me: I am washing some clothes.
Random Villager 1: Oh why are you doing that? Can I wash them for you?
Me: No that's ok. I don't mind. I have nothing to do today.

Random Villager 2: Good afternoon sister. Why are you doing that? Why didn't you ask me for help?
Me: Oh it's ok. I don't mind washing clothes. It's not hard.

Random Villager 1: Where are you going now?
Me: I need to go get more water.
Random Villager 1: Oh let me help you sister.

(We walk to the pump, an "overwhelming" distance of 200 m)

Random Villager 3: White lady, is the sun burning you? Let me fill your bucket. (She fills it, in front of the dozen other people who are waiting around to fill their own jugs)

Random Villager 4: Sister, why didn't you send a child to fetch water? Wasn't there a child around?
Me: I don't mind fetching water. I don't need much.

(With the help of Random Villager 1 I put the bucket on top of my head and turn to walk back to the house. I have never felt less graceful in my life, as the water sloshes out with each step no matter how slowly and carefully I try to walk. I arrive drenched. How do the people here do it?)

. . . .

I cooked Ramen noodles for lunch because I was afraid to eat the chicken leftover from the night before (there's no refrigeration in the village). They were a parting gift from one of our generous Canadian guests. Ten minutes and lunch was ready. I wonder what our housekeeper Mary was thinking as she watched me prepare my food. Each day she spends most of the morning preparing lunch for us. For goodness sake, she had to kill and de-feather the chicken we ate the previous night for supper. In her own home she would have had to pound the corn to make shima on a fire built from wood she had gathered from the forest . . . We have the luxuries of rice and charcoal that make the task slightly easier. But no wonder people here are thankful for their food.
And then I wonder, was my lunch really food?

Over the last two weeks, MCC had the pleasure of hosting a learning tour of 10 Canadians from Canadian Food Grains Bank, the organization that funds our sand dams and food security projects here in Moz. It was really fun to show off some of our work here and to speak English a bit (I also had the opportunity to try my hand at translating from time to time). I also learned a lot! That is one thing that just amazes me about being here - I feel like I am constantly learning more about Moz and about myself.

One thing that struck me is how much I am assimilating into the climate/culture/conditions here. Hearing the reactions of our guests was like seeing Moz for the first time again. And even though life here now feels fairly normal I was reminded of how shocking the poverty is at first sight.

So in order to try to convey a bit more what Moz is like, here are some things that are different about Moz.

greeting friends with a kiss on each cheek
taking baths out of buckets
often no toilet seats (or toilets - the casa de banho is always an adventure)
no toilet paper (you have to bring your own if you want it)
electricity is not a given
the water turns off regularly for several hours a day (and sometimes irregularly too)
street vendors everywhere with really useful things like eggs, flour, vinegar, laundry soap, toothpaste, etc (it's like the ultimate convenience store)
riding in 15 seat minibuses with up to 25 people
ants everywhere (in the house, in the food, etc)
giant cockroaches
fruits, veggies, and dairy are not a huge part of our diet here
waiting (nothing happens as fast as you would hope)
television (if you have one and you're home, it's on)
geckos scurrying up and down the walls
cows, goats, and overladen bikes in the road
washing dishes in cold water
nearly constant noise
no napkins except in nice restaurants
men hissing in the street to get my attention
no pepper
a rotation of 6-8 different meals (and we often eat the same thing for both lunch and supper)
washing laundry by hand
receiving little candies instead of change if they don't have the proper coins
no hot showers (not that I would ever really want one)
almost no grass (especially here in hot, dry Tete)
drinking tea twice daily even though it's hot
walking everywhere because we don't have a car

Now you might think from this list that life here is pretty terrible (and this is just the city conditions) but I actually don't really find it to be a hardship. It's true that life here is hard (Moz is like 6th from the bottom on the UN's Human Development Index http://hdr.undp.org/en/statistics/). There are a lot of things I took for granted back in North America that you can't expect here. And I won't say I'll ever be excited about the giant cockroaches or finding no water in the tap unexpectedly. But for the most part I enjoy life here. And I am much more thankful for simple blessings like food to fill my stomach and water that is clean enough to drink.

11/20/08

Last Friday, Dzunga got the first big rain of the rainy season. This is a blessing, right? Sort of . . .

All of a sudden the world is green! There is grass popping up everywhere in the once dry soil that I had assessed as inhospitable due to the fact that it looks nothing like the rich black soil of Illinois. The trees had been starting to green up before, but now all of a sudden this land is truly green. Water is now much more easily available now too. We saw people digging scoop-holes less than half a meter deep in the riverbed, where previously the water depth had been about two meters underground. The coming of the rain also means that people can begin to plant their crops.

But this water is not all good news. The coming of the rains also means the coming of the yearly cholera season. The rain washes all kinds of things down into the riverbed, including cholera bacteria that could have been lying dormant for months. When people dig scoop-holes to obtain water, the water is a deadly blessing. Dzunga is blessed to have a small hospital, but now it is overflowing with cholera cases and the staff are exhausted. Though only 2 deaths have been registered (because they occurred in the hospital), there have been many others that occurred throughout the village because cholera strikes fast, killing people within hours at times. And without proper latrines the infection can continue to spread quite easily.

It is disheartening to be present in this environment. I suspect that people have been told not to drink the scoop-hole water before (there are wells in the community), but the task of collecting water can be such a chore that I’m sure it is very tempting to use a closer source (the riverbed) when one lives far from a well. I don’t know how to be of help in this situation . . . Sometimes the challenges of rural life can be so overwhelming. Please pray with me.