The Goat Rescue

So as I’ve had several requests for an elaboration of the goat incident, here it goes. I spent Saturday in Tete City, the provincial capital. I have to go there to go grocery shopping so I make the trip every week or two. Any adventure to Tete is usually exhausting since the city, which is along the banks of the Zambezi River, is regarded as the absolute hottest point in Mozambique and probably all of Southern Africa. Most travel guides suggest staying away as the heat is overwhelming for visitors, but since I don’t have a market in my town, I spend a fairly significant amount of time in one of Africa’s hottest cities. Luckily it’s a fairly clean, friendly city, and although the shopping trips are sweaty and exhausting, I enjoy them. Whenever I go to Tete, I spend at least half my time sitting in a restaurant with air-conditioning and stalling as much as possible while on errands in air-conditioned locations. My favorite restaurant has MULTIPLE air-conditioning units, giant fans, falafel, and ice cream….it is paradise.  However, the power was out on Saturday so Helen and I were left to run our errands amid the blistering heat without the promise of an air-conditioned oasis lunch. All was not lost though as the market was better stocked than usual, I found a fresh pineapple that I could afford, and eventually the power came back on.  Needless to say, when I arrived back home that afternoon, I was pretty tired. However, there would be no time for relaxation.

                As soon as I had put down my backpack and begun to unpack my precious cargo of fruit, vegetables, dried beans, rice, powdered milk, and peanut butter, my 7^th grade neighbor came by with bad news. She timidly told me that a goat was in my latrine. Now, I have to explain that goats are frequently in my latrine. They use it as a shelter when it is raining or when the sun is too hot, so I thought she was just informing me about the usual goat trespassers, but something in her tone warned me otherwise. She then told me to come look, so putting my shiny new jar of peanut butter on the shelf, I followed her outside to my pit latrine. My latrine is a cement structure with a tin roof. The floor is cement and has an opening cut in the middle of it with a very deep pit below it (probably about 10 feet). Although a wall provides privacy for the user, there is no door, hence the usual goat intruders. These goats USUALLY stay away from the hole, sensing as any intelligent goat would, its impending danger. Furthermore, the hole, over which the user must squat to do their daily business, is too small for most goats to fall through. It was just big enough however for a young goat to get itself into quite a crappy situation…literally. You could even say his life was in the pits at the moment. The poor thing had somehow managed to fall through the hole in the floor and into the deep, incredibly disgusting contents of the latrine. The goat was now crying and crying, calling to its mother or anyone who would listen, or probably just crying about how much of a bummer being trapped in a pit latrine is.

                I was startled, sad, and worried all at once. I asked my neighbor what she thought we should do. She said the only option was to leave him in there. Not willing to believe this, I went to talk to other neighbors about the situation. They seemed much less alarmed then I was, informing me that this happens all the time and blaming the goat’s owners for not keeping better track of their animals. Neighbor after neighbor told me that unless I could find a legendary old, drunken man who wanders the town and has been known to get goats out of latrines in the past, the only option was to leave it. However, this was definitely not an option in my book. The thought of having to take care of my daily “bathroom” business on top of a slowly dying adolescent goat was not only unthinkable for me, but sent me into a panic-driven frenzy to rescue the goat. I went back to my house, looking out for the old drunken wanderer, but he hadn't been seen for months, so that option was basically out. When I got home, I put on my headlamp, cut down my clothes line to make a lasso, and headed back out to the latrine. Shining my headlamp into the dark, feces-filled abyss, I could make out the goat. I secured my headlamp even tighter to insure it too was not claimed by the pit, and lowered the clothes-line lasso into the depths. The smell was appalling. As I tried to get the lasso around the goat’s body, it retreated into the corner, into the space under the floor of the latrine, where I could no longer see it. I handed over the lasso to the neighbor and went to a nearby tree to pick some leaves, a favorite goat snack. Throwing the leaves into the pit in an attempt to lure the frightened animal back in to our sight, I couldn’t help feeling incredibly sorry for this poor creature. What a predicament!  A few of my students who had come by to see what I was doing tried to help by making goat calls, trying to get the animal out of hiding. After several unsuccessful attempts to fish the goat out with my make-shift lasso, we had attracted a substantial crowd of onlookers, who once again advised me not to worry and to just leave the goat. I was getting frustrated. There was no way I was leaving a goat to die in my latrine. I mean it already smells bad enough and what an awful, AWFUL, AWFULLL way to die! No animal should have to suffer like that. I was beginning to panic due to everyone else’s lack of motivation, and my thoughts were racing. Was there any way for me to fit through the hole, climb down, and get the goat? I could take a really long bucket bath after. Could the goat be coaxed to climb into a bucket if I lowered one down?  Could we dig a tunnel through the side of the pit to retrieve the little guy? WHAT IF I HAVE TO POOP ON TOP OF A DYING GOAT EVERYDAY!???? AHHHHH…I think I would go home if that was the case.  So in a last attempt to inspire motivation and get the on-looking kids on board with the rescue, I offered 100 meticais (all the money I had in my pocket) to the first one to rescue the goat. 100 mets is about $3, but was a small fortune to the neighborhood kids.  Immediately they sprang into action. Goat rescuing contraptions began to materialize out of every possible resource. There were harnesses made of twine and attached to long sticks, a similar invention made of plastic bags, various ropes and cords, and even some offers to climb into the latrine. I refused to let any children climb down the hole…a goat stuck in the latrine was one thing, but I definitely did not want to responsible for getting a kid trapped in there.  After a few hours of attempts, altering the contraptions, re-coaxing the goat back into sight, and confused looks from passing adults, the winning contraption came into being. Two of my students made a lasso-like attachment out of yucca leaves and connected it to a long stick. I handed over my headlamp and wished them luck. They spent the next half hour or so trying to capture the goat. I was just about to give up on them when I heard a commotion inside the latrine. I had a sudden fear that they had dropped my headlamp in the ominous pit, but realized almost immediately that they were cries of victory, and the goat cries were definitely less muffled! Just then, the goat came storming around the corner of the latrine, flustered and very dirty and followed by the victorious goat-rescuers. I quickly snapped a picture of the group and asked them not to release the goat until I gave it a bath. So, after having a few buckets of water dumped on him and a heartwarming reunion with his mother, the little guy’s nightmare was over, two of my students became the richest kids around, and I when nature calls, I can use my goat-free latrine once again. Although a stressful incident at the time, the goat rescue brought me closer to many of my students, taught the onlookers that not everybody thinks it’s ok to leave goats to die in latrines, and was actually pretty entertaining in hindsight.   You’ll be pleased to know that I have since reinforced my goat-guarding mechanisms and have redesigned the latrine lid to be heavier and not easily pushed aside by a stumbling baby goat.  Thanks for reading everybody and much love to you all! Until the next adventure!

The Goat Rescue Crew  in front of the culprit latrine 

                                                         

A weekend in the mountains!

I have been super busy this week! Aside from my usual hours of sitting in the shade trying not to get heat stroke and pondering life, this week I also went on an a rejuvenating adventure to the town of Zóbuè, finally started teaching, and discovered a new soy product from Malawi that kind of tastes like chicken and doesn't have to be refrigerated! I’ll start with the Zóbuè adventure.

Aside from Helen, who lives half an hour (in a car) northeast of me, my nearest volunteer neighbors are about 4-6 hours away (depending on transportation) on the border with Malawi. I spent last weekend exploring their beautiful mountainous site. As the chapa (public transport mini-bus) began the climb into the mountains marking the Mozambique-Malawi border, the scorched, dry plains began to transform. Lush greenery, fields of towering corn, and even some fog increased exponentially as we climbed, and looking out over the mountainous landscape, I felt at home.  Aside from my 6 months studying abroad in Ireland, I have always lived in the mountains, or at least in sight of them, so there was something incredibly comforting about once again finding myself on high ground.  When we arrived in Zóbuè, we were met by our wonderful hosts and wandered through winding, bustling trails to their home. We had brought some cheese from the city, and since our hosts have an oven, we had a delicious pizza lunch! When Peace Corps volunteers get together, especially in houses that have ovens or refrigerators, delicious meals are usually concocted, and this weekend was no exception. With the luxuries of a refrigerator, an oven, and most importantly abounding fresh produce our culinary possibilities were infinite! So the first day we had pizza for lunch and decided on a Mexican picnic/ mini-hike for dinner. We spent the rest of the day exploring Zóbuè. We visited the school, some neighbors, and a very impressive market, fully stocked with everything from clothing, shoes, and dry goods to fresh-baked bread and heaps of veggies. It was in the market that I found Soya. This chicken-like soy product is made in Malawi, and not only is it a super affordable protein source (about 25 cents a packet which makes three meals), but unlike real chicken, it doesn't have to be refrigerated!  Beans have been my primary source of protein these last months, and although I really like beans and have created tons of delicious bean dishes, I was super excited to diversify my protein intake! I bought 5 packages and hoped they would taste good (turns out they are pretty good! Like I said, tastes kinda like chicken). As we continued our walk around town, we encountered lots of friendly neighborhood children, endless fields of corn, and even a chameleon!

That evening, we climbed a nearby ridge, quesadillas, fresh salsa, and guacamole in hand, and had a magical Mexican picnic dinner as we watched the sun sink behind the surrounding peaks. I could not have been happier. I mean mountains and Mexican food…what more could I ask for? We had attracted a crowd of on-looking children who found everything about the situation strange. Why were the foreigners climbing up the mountain to eat their dinner? What were they eating? What were they saying to each other in their strange language?  They inched closer and closer, until we returned down the mountain in the twilight. After sitting around and chatting, it was off to bed, and I slept incredibly well since for the first time in months, I actually felt a tad bit chilly!

The start of the hike

The next morning, we were up bright and early for our hike up Mt. Zóbuè. We set off in the early morning light, and wandered through the towering corn fields of the valley before beginning out assent. We encountered several homesteads and friendly people along the way. As we began the steep climb, we discovered that what our hosts explained was usually a clear, fairly simple to follow path, was now an overgrown jungle due to the recent rains. So we began to make our way up the mountain, sending the dog ahead to check for snakes and slowly but surely, we made our way up the steep slope. The scenery was spectacular. We found ourselves climbing through lush greenery, rocky slopes, and eventually even a forested area. Being in the trees, looking out over the sprawling green valley below was truly rejuvenating. Even the oversized stinging nettles were a welcome change and reminded me of home. After a dirty, hard climb we scrambled up a rocky crevice, through a sun-filled clearing, and on to the mountain top.  We made it! As we crested the peak, we looked out over the seemingly endless mountain ranges and valleys of Mozambique and Malawi, and sat next to a cement pillar marking the Malawian border to rest and hydrate. After enjoying the beautiful scenery and some cookies, we took photos and got ready to head back down. We arrived back home tired, sweaty, hungry, and dirty, but content. It was an excellent adventure and we made it through snake-bite free and with some great photos! After some much needed showers, we headed to a nearby restaurant for grilled chicken and cold beers-a perfect way to end the hike. 

Walking through fields to the base of the mountain 

On the way up

Helen and I making our way through the jungle!

At the top! Looking out over Malawi 

                We spent the rest of the day relaxing, visiting with neighbors, and of course cooking. We made delicious curried pumpkin and naan for dinner, then spent the evening watching movies. The next morning, Helen and I made our way back to our sites, and I found myself once again confronted with the daunting heat of my village. However, after the rejuvenating weekend adventure, I felt energized and excited for the week ahead!

Technically this week was the 2^nd week of school, but it wasn't until Wednesday that there were any students. I did get to start teaching though which was great. I really missed it and had a great time teaching introductions and greetings to my still super small classes. I am going to have between 50-70 students in each of my classes, but this week there were only about 15 in each. Some are still working in the fields, taking advantage of the rains, some have malaria or cholera, and some just haven’t decided to come back to school yet for whatever reason. However, this is normal here, and other teachers told me not to expect full classes for another two weeks. So this week was spent teaching whatever students showed up, cleaning out the classrooms which for the last month have served as homes for the wandering herds of goats, and getting to know my fellow teachers. The classes that I did have went well, and the students who were there seemed excited and ready to learn. The ability level in each class is very diverse, and after giving a diagnostic test, I was surprised by the literacy levels of many of my students. Although the majority of the secondary school students can understand Portuguese and seemed to have a grasp on very basic English, there are others who do not understand Portuguese and who are unable even to write their names. So, I have spent this week revamping my curriculum and syllabus in an effort to accommodate the many different levels of my students. I am the only female teacher who will be teaching full-time at the secondary school level, however there are many women teaching primary school l (my school is attended by students from 1st-10^th grade), and all and all I have wonderful colleagues. They have been very helpful and kind, and I am grateful for their welcoming attitudes, friendship, and explanations as I am learning the ins and outs of teaching in Mozambique.   Now hopefully next week, we will finally have full classrooms!

Since I have Fridays off, I spent today doing laundry and cleaning my house. Laundry in Mozambique is a process. Today it involved getting up at 5am to get to the well before the morning rush to pump water. I pumped my water and lugged the two heavy buckets back to my house, amid impressed onlookers. My neighbors always ask me why I don’t just tell a student to get me water, but I actually enjoy the task. Although physically exhausting, I always enjoy chatting with the other women who are waiting to fill their buckets, and upon reaching my house, my daily water supply in hand, I always feel a sense of accomplishment. Laundry day involves a few of these trips, then the hours of hand washing, before hanging my clothes to dry on the line outside my house. Today was a great day to dry laundry. Not only was it tremendously hot (105 degrees), but it was also very windy. It felt like I was in a hairdryer, but it was great for my laundry, and everything dried in less than an hour- even my jeans! So now, I’m off to take my evening bucket bath- one of my favorite times of the day. I carry a bucket of water out to the brick walls that act as my “shower.” The roofless structure allows me to look out at the tree tops, sky, sunset, and even the early evening moon overhead as I wash away the day’s stress, sweat and dust, returning to my house squeaky clean  (feeling clean is a luxury in the Peace Corps) and refreshed. Tonight I will even get to put on freshly washed pajamas! Better get out there before it gets dark! Thanks for reading!  Sending you all lots of love from Mozambique! 

A little girl in Zobue finds time to play in her basket while selling tomatoes. 

2013 So Far

Happy New Year everybody! I hope 2013 is off to a great start for you all! Here in Mozambique, butterflies have been emerging from their cocoons all over the place (seriously, there are swarms of butterflies exploding out of every nook and cranny of my house), monsoon rains have become a daily occurrence, and the seasonal bug infestation seems to have transitioned from giant beetles to giant ants. In other news, the first week of school is finally here! I found out yesterday that I will be teaching all the 8^th and 9^th grade English classes at my school, and should have around 550 students. I’m also going to be the coordinator of the English department and the director of one of the 8^th grade classes, so I will be extremely busy this year! It should be quite a challenge, but I’m excited to have so much to do, and am really looking forward to meeting all my students!      

The school and view from my front door...not a bad commute 

Here in Mozambique the school year starts in December and yesterday we had the 2013 opening ceremony. It “started” at 7:30 (which is what time I got to school full of energy and in my nicest professional attire), however, most of the other teachers and officials didn't show until around 10. I forgot to account for “Mozambican time.” So around 10:30, the ceremony began with the national anthem. Everyone was impressed that I already knew it, but not nearly as impressed as when they asked me to plant a tree during the next phase of the ceremony. The crowd looked on in wonder as I expertly dug the hole, removed the sapling from its bag, placed it gently into the hole, making sure to leave room for its roots, and replaced the soil with my hands…all without dirtying my dress pants. Thank goodness for my northern Californian childhood and the extensive tree planting experience that entails.  During the tree planting ceremony, a first day of school tradition here, several trees were planted on our school’s grounds. They are tokens of good luck, strength, peace, and of course FUTURE SHADE for the upcoming school year and were planted by representatives from the local government, the teachers, and the parents. I was honored that they asked me to represent the teachers in the ceremony, and I can’t wait for my tree to become a much needed oasis of shade for the community.  

My house! Check out all the new rain induced greenery! 

The next stage of the day involved opening remarks by several officials, a health officer, and the director of my school. I was very impressed with the messages these speakers brought forth. They spoke of the importance of addressing gender equality in education, of our responsibility to respect linguistic and cultural diversity, of the need to preserve national unity, of the need for health education and care, of the teachers’ responsibility to improve the quality of instruction in Mozambique, and of the district’s plans for the expansion of primary education into rural, hard to reach locations. As a Peace Corps volunteer, these issues are at the heart of my work and it was incredibly uplifting and encouraging to hear these thoughts resonated by the administration.

a beautiful post-rain sunset from my backdoor

The words of the health officer who spoke were especially eye opening to me. As an education volunteer, I spend most of my energy on school-based projects and teaching, but the words of this inspired young doctor really opened my eyes to the need for health education in my school and community and I hope to get a few health-based projects going this year. As the torrential  rains of the monsoon season dump amid window rattling thunder, the dry scorched earth is revived, greenery springs from the earth in the blink of an eye, and the usually stupor inducing heat slightly decreases.  Corn, beans, and manioc, the staples of the Mozambican diet, are celebrated at the dampened earth allows for planting, and the people are hopeful that the rains will continue and lead to a good harvest. But there is another side to this would be joyous monsoon story. For along with the life giving water, comes life taking disease. Along with the moisture and “cooler” temperatures come swarms of malaria bearing mosquitoes  In the past week alone, five people I know have contracted malaria and the rainy season is only beginning.  Aside from malaria, the daily downpours have resulted in flooded latrines, contaminated drinking water, and cholera outbreaks. I feel truly grateful to have my Peace Corps issued mosquito net, water filter, and medical kit, but it is breaking my heart to see the way these diseases are ravaging the people of my village. Talking with the doctor afterwards, I learned that a large portion of the daily health care problems that the local clinic encounters are the result of lack of education in terms of water and sanitation. I am hoping to work with the clinic to hold a series of meetings and trainings and will definitely be integrating health topics into my English curriculum.  Although things are rough, things are also improving. New health centers are being opened, passionate young Mozambicans are awakened and inspired to help their nation move forward, and education is being made a priority all over the country. I am happy and honored to be able to make whatever small contributions I can to what 2013 holds for Mozambique. Much love to you all!!! …and remember, it makes my day to hear from you, so please please let me know how you all are doing wherever you are!