Regionals

So, I am back in Vilankulo/Vilankulos/Vilanculo/Vilanculos (probably my biggest gripe about my town is that it seems to be constantly in an identity crisis) after a week of meetings in Maputo--In-Service-Training for us new volunteers, and then regional meetings with all of the volunteers in the southern provinces for the next two days.

I have heard it said by other volunteers that the only time they ever considered ETíng (Early Termination, aka quitting and going home) was when they were traveling in this country. Luckily, I am blessed to live in a town that has absolutely everything I need for day-to-day life, so I rarely need to travel unless its for work (and therefore in comfortable work cars) or the very occasional weekend trips. Usually people come to us, which is convenient, but also means that we "miss out" on the experiences that can come from trying to get around on the public transportation.

We set out for Maxixe on Sunday morning, a town that is about 3.5 hours away (or 5.5 in a chapa), "really close" for PC/Moz standards. We cram into the chapa as the onlookers kind of stare at the three mulungus (white people) and are kind of laughing, and then one even takes a picture of us when he thinks we aren´t looking. Seriously? We speak Portuguese and we are sitting on your chapa at 6 in the morning, we must have SOME idea of what we are doing here. Well, the ride was stuffed and uncomfortable as always, and then five and some hours later, we arrive in Maxixe safely. Yay! But then the cobrador (guy who collects money) tries to rip us off for our bags, which were under the seats. My sitemate Laura is amazing at confronting jerks trying to rip us off, and she had a little success with some of the money we were owed being returned to us. The guys on the chapa were lying and saying they had told us in the morning that we´d be charged for our bags--LIE. And they were laughing at our indignance. So this sours the mood a bit. We walk a good hundred yards to the place to take a large boat taxi to Inhambane City, across a small bay of water. When we try to buy our tickets (about 50 cents American), the guys selling them try to make us pay for our backpacks. Um, no. We walk away down the pier and when we hand over our tickets to get on the boat, the guy there also pedir´s us for money for the bags. Which you do NOT need to pay for if they fit in your personal space, which ours did. So, we are finally seated on the boat after all this harrassment happening in about 15 minutes, and then the people around us start talking about us (in dialect) and laughing. Laura calls them out, and they kind of shut up. Then a long sweaty ride to Tofo beach and... salvation comes. I am reminded when I see Tofo that this is a beautiful and wonderful country even though sometimes traveling can have me at my wit´s end. I wish there was some way to erase the dollar sign that seems to be on my forehead! But it´s all good, I usually have a good attitude about it. But some days like this it´s more difficult.

Tofo was a fun afternoon of swimming, reading and sipping soda at sundown on a beautiful beach. I just love this place. Vila(c/k)ulo(s) is a beautiful place as well, but there´s just something about Tofo! We left around 4:30AM on a machibombo (minibus) to Maputo and I will spare the details on the ensuing nine hours of discomfort with my knees pressed against a metal bar and a Mozambican trying to sleep on my shoulder. It is moments like this where I remember why a sense of humor is absolutely crucial to every PCV´s well being. So I try just to laugh.

Maputo was an amazing "culture shock," which was funny because the first time I saw Maputo I was shocked at how "third-world" it seemed--I had never been to Africa, and didn´t know what I was getting into! But now that that shock has worn off and Moz is my home, I was shocked in another way by how developed Maputo really is. We spent Monday eating/relaxing at Mundo´s, which involved chocolate brownies, nachos and beer on tap, and then saw a movie. A MOVIE. IN MOZAMBIQUE. I saw Doubt, with Meryl Streep, and it was a good movie that really made you think, but I was a bit distracted by the impending wave of tiredness AND the immense confusion that came from watching a movie in a movie theater and eating one-dollar popcorn. Beautiful.

The hotel we stayed at for regionals was gorgeous. It had hot water (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), wi-fi internet (didn´t bring my computer though, but I am happy with that decision), a pool, AC, and the best part was probably... no, undoubtedly, the unlimited buffet meals. I probably gained ten pounds there off of the eggs, sausage, guava and orange juice, ham and cheese sandwiches, lasagna, and never-ending dessert bar. But it´s okay. I will have plenty of time to lose the weight, some other time. Yay good food!

All in all the week was a great time to reconnect with other PCVs in the area. It was great to see how everyone was doing, and really reassuring and encouraging to hear and see that all of us Moz 13s are facing our own and unique challenges, but everyone is adapting and maturing and growing in response to these challenges. We are only a few months in, and I am sure that the next time I see everyone, we will all be collectively amazed at how far we have come.

As good of a time I had hanging out with "old" friends (and making new ones!), I was ready to head back to Vil (now that´s an easier name to use!). I missed my house, my routine, my cat and my dog, I even missed not eating very much food (and eating a PB&J sandwich every single day for lunch). I was really ready to get back to site and get back to work.

My trip back from Maputo yesterday was the complete opposite of my trip down. Determined to get back to Vil in one day, I had two choices: the regular bus or the Panthera Azul bus. The regular bus is just what it sounds like... a regular bus, but in Mozambique that can mean dozens of people standing in the aisles/on your lap, extreme heat, smelly, frequent breakdowns, etc. Now these things are just some of the many charms that come from African living, and are quite easy to adopt to. But this also involves catching the bus at the Junta. Junta is one of the scariest places on earth. Imagine a huge lot of land the size of a few football fields, completely covered with cars, vans, and busses heading everywhere in the southern african area, with no system of organization whatsoever. Pull up to Junta and have a hundred motoristas and cobradors suffocating you trying to get you onto a bus or chapa, and wading through the people selling refrescos and bolo com creme (that stuff is goooood). Definitely tolerable, but due to my desire to get home (and my desire to evade unnecessary travel stress), I decided to NOT be a volunteer who "knows the price of everything and the value of nothing," and take the Panthera Azul bus that leaves from the baixa area. Assigned seats, double decker bus (I was on tree level), air conditioning, reclinable and roomy seats, snack and tea served, TVs playing lionel ritchie music videos on repeat and martial arts films... it was glorious. It was completely worth being TWICE the price and I am doing that every time now, or trying to book a ticket. Maputo is far!

So there is a little synopsis of my week. Now I am back, fatter, but re-motivated. And I even missed my cold showers during the week... I guess I am adapting to this new life, after all.