Katie in Mozambique

Support our Preschool!

2009-06-03T01:03:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, one of my primary projects here has been helping a local group of women establish a preschool, Escolinha Estrela da Manha (Morning Star Preschool), for the children of Chokwe. Early childhood education is a proven way to improve a community’s wellbeing: children who receive education in the early years of their lives are more likely to complete secondary school, less likely to live in poverty, and less likely to contract HIV. However, very few Mozambican children have the opportunity to take advantage of such programs. Recognizing that all children deserve a head start, we are reaching out to orphans and vulnerable children, to provide them with the opportunity for early childhood education. These children can benefit especially from attending our school, as they often lag behind their peers developmentally, are more likely to be malnourished, and face persistent discrimination.

Just in the last year, we have had tremendous success with our program. Melucha, an orphan, arrived at the preschool so malnourished that her skin was sagging from her arms and legs. She spoke no Portuguese and sat alone, removed from the other kids, watching but not participating. Now, she plays and communicates, in Portuguese, with her peers. She has gained weight, and is full of life and energy. There is also Nelson who graduated from the preschool last year and is now attending first grade at the local school. With a foundation from the preschool in many of the topics covered in the first grade curriculum, Nelson is receiving high marks. His mother has noticed that school is easier for Nelson than it was for her older children, who did not have the opportunity of attending preschool. We have watched Melucha, Nelson, and every single one of our children grow significantly over the course of our school year.

We want to ensure that early childhood education is available to the children of Chokwe for many years to come, and we need your help! Our most immediate goal is to construct our own building for classes to take place. If you’d like to support our project, you can do so by visiting this website . A gift of any size will help us hold classes in our own building by next year. You can also help us by spreading the word about our construction project!

If you have any questions, or to learn how you can support the preschool beyond classroom construction, please do not hesitate to contact me.
On behalf of everyone working to make Escolinha Estrela da Manha a success, we sincerely thank you for your support!

The Back of the Chapa

2009-01-28T04:42:00.000-08:00

In the tumultuous world of Mozambican public transportation, there is one highly coveted refuge: the front seat. Besides the driver, only two people ever sit in the front of a chapa. You have space for your legs, you’re not fighting the bags and babies for space, and the chicken and goats and whatever else is riding with you are all safely behind you.

The front seat is extremely hard to obtain. You have to arrive at just the right time—just as the previous chapa is leaving but before anyone has started to fill up the next one. Whoever gets there first takes it, although even that isn’t always enough—chapa drivers make friends quickly, and chances are the front seat has been “reserved”.

Last weekend, coming home from our mid-service conference in Maputo, I got lucky—or so I thought. Comfortably seated in my front seat, I was excited for a relatively pain-free ride back home. The chapa filled up more or less quickly, and it wouldn’t be long before we were on our way. It turns out I had started basking in front-seat glory too soon, however: ten minutes later the driver came over, opened my door, and told me to get out and move to the back.

The conversation went something like:
Me: Why?
Driver: This man (as he pointed to a man who had just arrived to get on the chapa) wants to sit in the front.
Me: Why?
Driver: Because he wants to.
Me: I was here first.
Driver: He’s a man. You’re a woman. You have to move to the back.
Me: I’m not moving, I’m the same as him.
Driver: No, you’re not. He’s a man. If he wants to sit there he can.

I stared at the driver, absolutely furious. Of course I’ve experienced gender discrimination before, both here and in the States, but never so blatant. And I’ve seen similar things happen to Mozambican women, which is no less maddening, but I guess I’ve usually been exempt, as many people realize that we Americans have “different ideas”. And something about it actually happening to you feels different than watching it.
In retrospect, I probably should have sat there and refused to move.

But in the end, I wasn’t that brave. As my refusals continued and my lecture on discrimination began, the driver raised his voice, I raised mine, and we were starting to create a scene. So instead I told him I wouldn’t travel on his chapa, and demanded my money back. As I stood outside of the chapa, watching the man take the seat that was rightfully his and waiting for it to leave so I could get on the next one, some of the passengers had some good natured fun: “Crazy white girl, now your trip is going to be delayed for hours, come in the back”. The whole thing was crazy—I just wanted to get home.

I could afford to wait. I didn’t have a family to go home and cook for, I didn’t have a cranky baby to hold, I had money to buy cold water, and I didn’t have a husband who would ask me angrily what took so long. It was annoying, but this was the first time I’d actively had to choose between inconvenience and accepting “the way things are”—but what if I had that choice to make every day?

I made it home, and per usual there were kids playing in my yard. Two of the older girls were calling the shots as the other kids, including the boys, followed their instructions. Baby steps.

Over the Hump

2008-12-16T04:56:00.000-08:00

Less than a year left on my time here. Exciting and terrifying! No way I’ll be able to do everything I wanted to, but so it goes. It’s been a busy month. Two weeks of amazing traveling in northern Mozambique and Victoria Falls. Traveling through other parts of the country was interesting: different landscapes, cultures, and day-to-day activities, and logistically there were the transportation nightmares, hitching rides on trucks that wouldn’t start, lost reservations, and blatant bribing of numerous officials (not personally, of course). But considering, everything went more or less smoothly and it was quite an adventure! From visiting the first capital of Mozambique with its abandoned Portuguese style buildings to sitting on the Indian Ocean beaches we certainly ran the gamut of activities. Victoria Falls was equally fun: stunning scenery, of course the waterfall, and rafting (and unintentionally swimming) in the crazy Zambezi water.

I spent the last two weeks helping with the training for the new volunteers. Such a flashback: homestay, Portuguese, a US “get-things-done” mentality that hadn’t yet been replaced by Mozambican concepts of time, and so much energy and optimism. If nothing else it was a reminder that I have learned, or maybe rather experienced, at least something in the past year, and it was extremely re-energizing as there was a complete lack of jadedness from the new volunteers.

So, now I’m back at it until Christmas break. My biggest project will be cleaning out my house of everything that moved in while I was gone: anthills, the accompanying hundreds of ants that are eating holes in the concrete (who knew that was possible?), a few families of cockroaches, and a frog that has taken up residence in my bathroom drain that is a very suspicious color of black and yellow. I finally just made my peace with things crawling on my feet.

Things are quiet as most things stop for the month of December. School is out and many people are either sticking around home or have gone to visit family, though not as many have left as usual as there has been a long wait for exam scores. For the first time ever the 12th grade national exam, needed to advance to university, was given as a scantron. But, the scantron machine processing all of the results, nationally, broke and so the results for the first “epic” (if you don’t pass the “first epic” you have another chance to pass with the “second epic” which occurs a few days after the “first epic” scores have been published) haven’t been released. So far it’s been a delay of a month, and things are starting to get confusing as university applications are coming due. But you can’t complete a university application without the results…

Happy Holidays to everyone! My little fake Christmas tree that I put up in my meat-locker of a house, while baking in the hot summer weather doesn’t quite compare to Christmas at home. Can’t wait til next year!

The American Elections…in Mozambique

2008-10-29T06:47:00.000-07:00

As one of the Mozambicans in the Peace Corps office put it, “the whole world will stop on November 4th” to watch America. For some Mozambicans, those involved in government and the aid industry, the chief concern is the next president’s policy stance on PEPFAR (President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief), which is currently providing millions of dollars in aid to Mozambique. But for other Mozambicans that know anything about the American elections, and even for the vast majority that don’t, an Obama victory will have much broader implications.

My friend has a picture of Barack Obama visiting his grandmother in Kenya hanging on her wall. Her neighbor, pointing to the picture, asked who it was. My friend replied that the man, Obama, is running for president and that the woman was his grandmother. The neighbor responded: “she looks like me!” And indeed, sitting outside her mud hut and dressed with a sarong, she does.

Of course I am not suggesting that anyone vote for Barack Obama because a Mozambican woman thinks she looks like his grandmother. But across Africa, and for racial minorities everywhere, an Obama victory would have important significance. In a world where many still internalize “white, good; black, bad” or at the very least understand that blacks often face obstacles that whites don’t, an Obama presidency would help challenge this reality. Clearly, it will not be a panacea. The Mozambicans in my community will continue to express disbelief when I tell them that not only are there (relatively) poor people in America, but some of them are white. I will still explain that white people do not have stronger bodies; we are also capable of contracting HIV. The racism that often prevents minority advancement will certainly not disappear. But it will be a poignant illustration of the fact that while being white continues to confer certain privileges, race does not make us inherently different, or black inherently lacking in any capacity.

On the Xai-Xai beach a few months ago, a white South African came up to a group of Peace Corps volunteers to say “Do Americans realize Obama is black?? Why are you voting for him?” Yes, we realize he’s black. And if elected it will show that we are one step closer to making the American dream truly attainable for all Americans. And for my friend’s neighbor in Mozambique, and millions of others around the globe, it will show that not only do we in fact have black people in America, but that we have successful black people in America. That contrary to the countless examples of white success that they’ve seen on TV, from the rich foreigners living abroad, or even from the majority of Peace Corps volunteers, it is not, or perhaps more accurately doesn’t need to be, the color of your skin that determines wealth, success, or intellect.

Where the Streets are Paved with Gold

2008-09-29T03:20:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago a group of about 20 neighborhood kids congregated on my veranda, eagerly awaiting the name of their very own pen pal. After a short geography lesson, and an explanation of how the letters would get there at all, these usually rowdy kids sat attentively as I explained some basic phrases in English, handed out some vocabulary words, and got straight to work. They sat there for over an hour, painstakingly copying and recopying until everything was perfect, writing whole paragraphs in Portuguese and sitting with me for minutes on end as we went through and translated.

If the seriousness with which they treated this pen pal assignment was unexpected, it was nothing compared to the genuine and insightful questions they generated. Without exception, everyone wanted to know something that transcended the “how old are you?” or “how many siblings do you have?”(which in and of themselves are interesting questions—I am constantly explaining why I only have one brother) that I was expecting. Instead, they ranged from the heartbreaking to the embarrassing, from “How are you going to achieve your dreams? I have big dreams but my family is poor. I’m afraid I’ll lose them” to “Do you like black people?” and “What do you think of poor countries like Mozambique?” and “Is your life hard like ours?” Suddenly what I had intended as a simple and fun cultural exchange turned into, at least for me, a real insight into their perceptions of America, and into questions for which I don’t really like the answers.

After all the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed, after pages were filled with questions, the kids handed in their letters and one after another thanked me for giving them this “opportunity”. I’m talking 12-year-olds independently and sincerely thanking me for organizing the fairly simple task of sending and receiving letters. This is certainly not how I regarded pen pals when I was in elementary school. With minimal effort on my end, these kids participated in something that for them was significant. When it was all over, I sat there for a few minutes, amazed at what had just happened—it was so easy, all I had to do was a little bit of organization and a trip to the post office—and the kids loved it.

This week we celebrated one year in Mozambique. Conversations went something like: “I can’t believe we’ve been here for a year” followed by “Oh god, I can!” As for me…it depends on the day. The idealism has faded into cautious optimism: not enough to keep from banging my head against the wall, but just enough to keep going. Most of what I’ve learned I’m pretty sure I have yet to realize, and the rest is impossible to explain here. But I can say that I am now capable of having a frank conversation about sex, sexuality, and all of its facets anywhere, at any time, with anyone and everyone. And contrary to popular belief, I can, in fact, survive with fewer tricks in my wardrobe than my father.

Little Towt Comes to Africa

2008-08-19T04:19:00.000-07:00

As I’ve already broadcasted to the world, Evan was here!!!!!! We had an awesome time. Pictures are posted.

Swaziland was beautiful. And so different from Mozambique. It is much more developed than Mozambique, and, on average, the people seemed better-off (though still indigent). The infrastructure is better, especially when it comes to transportation, which was efficient and well-organized. The cities were pretty developed, and many people were shopping in malls and eating at restaurants. Yet, perhaps contradictorily, Swaziland has the highest HIV infection rate in the world.

And so, highlights. Swazi was full of animals: lion, rhino, elephant, giraffe, zebra, hippo, buffalo, antelope, etc. We went on some amazing game tours that took us up so incredibly close, in some cases we could have touched them. And yes, I definitely flinched, especially around the lions. The scenery was equally beautiful: mountains, lakes, fields. The hostels we stayed at brought us together with such a variety of people: the 60-something Irishman who’s been living in Hong Kong for the last 25 years, the 30-something American, a “burned out” pediatrician, looking for a new direction, the Israeli soldier in his late 20s. Evan and I happened to be in the right place at the right time, and we stumbled in on Swaziland’s annual Bush Fire Festival, a benefit for children orphaned by HIV/AIDS that brings together African artists. Together with our eclectic bunch, we had a night of some of the best music from around the continent.

After Swazi we headed up the Mozambican coast to Barra for some time relaxing on the beach under the palm trees. Evan was a trooper through all of the chapa ordeals, including a miscalculation on my part that kept us waiting in a chapa at the bus depot for four hours.

After Swazi and Barra, taking Evan back to my site, I was still excited to have my brother visiting but less excited that the traveling part of my vacation was over. But in actuality, it turns out that having him here might have been my favorite part of the trip. Traveling is great, of course, but I underestimated how excited I’d be to, finally, show someone and say “this is what I’ve been talking about”. More so than seeing animals or lounging by the ocean, sharing my day-to-day with someone—what I like, what I hate, the challenges, and everything in between—was so important. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be as happy to have someone hang out with me at my home as to travel with them, but it can happen. I thought six days here might be too much, but in actuality it was too little.

Evan did it all: dealt with vendors, colored with the kids, came out to the field to a microfinance group, shopped in the market, tried (and did a pretty good job for having been here less than three weeks) to speak Portuguese, bargained, took a bucket bath, just generally saw how life is lived here. I can’t speak for him, but I think he learned a thing or two. For me, it was an opportunity for a much needed re-evaluation. There are a lot of things here that I don’t love, a lot of things that I miss. My outlook of late on this whole thing has been a little bit less than positive, and it’s all been a bit wearing. But when Evan looked at me after a walk around the neighborhood and said “Katie, I’m jealous, and you better enjoy this because you’re going to miss it”, despite my immediate reaction of “how on earth can you be jealous? Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you?” I realized he had a point. I can, and do, tell myself these things all I want, but having him here, saying it as an outside observer, reaffirmed it (what can I say, I need positive reinforcement!). Hanging out with my brother, realizing what I’ve learned so far, the relationships I’ve made, that I haven’t completely fallen off the face of the earth (at the very least to one person), and that home comes with its own set of frustrations, has given me a little more patience and has restored some of the optimism that I know was here somewhere.

In effect, Evan showed me my life from his perspective; I saw it all through someone else. As for me, showing someone my life made it all the more salient that my experience here is more than just another experience, more than another crazy thing that I decided to do, it is in fact my life now. My actual life. So now, it’s time for me to get back to work and for Evan to go back to school. Life is continuing as normal. And now one more person understands all the better what, exactly, that actual life is. And, of course, I can’t give traveling a bad rap. The animals, and the mountains, and the beach. That was pretty sweet too.

2008-07-26T01:06:00.000-07:00

Last week, in a small, very rural and remote town I attended a ceremony to protect a new house from evil spirits. The village curendeiros (traditional healers), gathered in front of the newly made one-room thatched hut dressed in bright colors, scarves, and beads. The curendeiros started to chant and go into trance as women on the ground beat on hide drums and shook rattles made out of gourds and rock-filled cans. As the music escalated so did the dancing of the curendeiros, screams rising as the spirits of their ancestors and other elements (water, earth, etc.) entered their bodies. The rest of the community, surrounding them in a circle, looked on. The chanting, singing, and dancing carried on for over an hour, after which a goat was brought into the circle and thrown on the back of one of the dancing curendeiros, where it stayed for the remainder of that chant. Later, the goat was sacrificed, and it’s liver buried by the curendeiros in the location specified by the spirits. Once successfully completed, the house was fully protected. All of this was carried on in a very specific tribal language, used by curendeiros for these ceremonies, which was then interpreted for my colleague in the local language, which he then translated into Portuguese for me.

We have a select population chosen and educated in spirituality (curendeiros), being watch attentively by a group of followers (the town), who conduct specific rituals to summon spirits to protect a home from evil. Substitute curendeiros for priests, the town for a congregation, and it doesn’t sound all that different than Christianity, or any widely accepted religion, to me. Yes, the rituals are different, and the spirits have different names, but it uses essentially the same principles. And if you think the goat ceremony is strange, well, what would they think about our religious rituals? Take, for instance the consumption of “body and blood”?

Three days later, I attended Chokwe’s First Annual Science Fair, put on by my site-mate who is a biology teacher at the secondary school. She and her kids did an awesome job, and it was so cool to see these kids get so excited about their projects and have the opportunity to do their very own experiments. And their creativity given their limited resources and unfamiliarity with the concept of actually conducting an experiment was pretty amazing. Anyway, one of the projects was to see if chicks exposed to music grew faster than those in a music-less environment. His conclusion was that yes, they did, which wouldn’t seem that unusual to many Americans who have seen a similar experiment displayed by elementary school children in gyms across the country. But to many of the Mozambicans in attendance this was preposterous. Chickens are “stupid”. There is no way that they could have been affected by music. The student might have been able to come out of it all relatively unscathed, but when asked why he thought he got this result, he responded that he wasn’t sure, that it required more research but he thought that, like humans, the chickens were more relaxed when listening to classical music (which, by the way, here is defined as Sting and Celine Dion), and therefore moved around less, gaining more weight. At the very mention that chickens might in any way resemble humans, there was an uproar. One of the teachers told him he would have to redo the experiment, this time without any chicken-human comparisons. I was later told by my site-mate that she often faces problems if she even brings up the fact that humans are animals; many people believe adamantly that they are not. It’s a matter of faith that chickens cannot resemble humans—they just know people are different.

It’s one of the oldest and most enduring conflicts: Intelligent Design versus Darwinism, the Church versus Galileo, stem-cell research. As a matter of science, these matters of faith are blatantly impossible (a body rising from the dead) at worst, and impossible (at least as of now) to prove at best. Yet even with all the science at our fingertips, almost all of us at some point or another push it aside in favor of this faith, things we just believe, with or without proof. Curendeiros rid evil spirits, chickens are inherently different from humans, God created the heavens and the Earth and, for some, had a son. Or even the faith that nothing exists beyond humans, that there is no “higher power”. Even though it exists everywhere, we’re so quick to demonize faith that isn’t our own. Very many would write off the spirit ceremony as superstition. I’ve heard “weird” and “creepy” used over and over again in reference to trance, people being possessed. My comparison of the spirit ceremony to Christianity will, I’m sure, make many wince. But if the West can have Christianity and other mainstream religions as a faith and not a pejorative “superstition”, so too should every culture.

If there’s one thing that all of our faiths have in common, it’s that they’re just that: faith. None is based on rational science, none can be proved, and therefore the legitimacy of each is entirely subjective. So if we’re going to accept one, we have to accept them all. Christianity, Judaism, and Islam as legitimate as Buddhism, Hinduism, Atheism, and yes, Voodoo, traditional religions everywhere, and witchcraft. And, if I haven’t convinced you, well, what would Jesus do?

Estas a Engordar!!!

2008-07-02T06:33:00.000-07:00

I haven’t seen a full-length mirror since I left the States. On a good day I might glance at my three-inch mirror on the way out the door. But generally, I have no first-hand idea of what I look like. That probably hasn’t happened since I was five.

That is, at least, until I walk out the door. And then, within ten minutes, I can usually tell if I’m having a good hair day or just need to throw it up, if my pants are flattering or if they should be tucked away in some corner, or if I’ve simply been eating too much xima (corn meal, the staple grain).

“Catarina, estas a engordar!!!” “Katie, you are getting fat”. Said with a big smile. The appropriate response? “Thanks!” This is said often, in casual conversation, and is considered a complement. It means you’re healthy, and in regards to me, the resident “mulungu” (white person), it means that I am doing well in Mozambique, that their country is treating me well. So, my knee-jerk, all-American reaction of “oh yeah? Well I don’t think you look too hot yourself today!” is suppressed for a smile and a “thank you”. My absolute favorite is “Estas a engordar BEM!!!” which in translation means “you are getting fat WELL” or “you’re doing a good job of getting fat”.

Everyone has their own opinion, daily. My neighbor will tell me today that I’m fat, but tomorrow I’ll look too thin. Am I sure I’m eating enough? Occasionally, I’ll have one person tell me I’m fat and another that I’m skinny in the same day. In the span of a week I can, apparently, go from looking like I’ve been doing nothing but sitting in my house eating to looking like I’m ready to run a marathon. Mostly, I find it’s best used as a guide for what clothing looks flattering and what doesn’t. And, when looked at in that light, I better take advantage of it now because it’s blunt honesty that I will never get in the states. Maybe I’ll start keeping a list of cuts and materials.

And it’s not only about weight. “Katie, what’s on your face?” Well, that’s a pimple, thank you for noticing. “Katie, your Portuguese is wrong”. Yes, I know, I think I’m doing pretty well for nine months, thanks. “Katie, your hair looks ugly like that”. Yes, one of my greatest disappointments is that I can’t get my hair to stay in braids like everyone else, but I can’t help it! And this is all said as casual small-talk. Just friends having a conversation.

Every one of these comments is taboo in the States. For us, they are rude and unnecessarily hurtful. For all of our directness in other areas, a directness that more often than not does not exist in Mozambique, these comments are off-limits. How many times would I walk downstairs in the morning and ask “Mom/Dad/Evan do these pants make my butt look fat?” Whenever I got the indirect “The pants look fine. Is that a new top? I like the color!” or, my personal favorite, the obligatory parental “honey, you look beautiful no matter what you wear” it was back up the stairs to try again, whether actually necessary or not. (And yes, I’m sure I was probably a little too paranoid and concerned about this at 14, but that’s another issue, and thanks, guys, for putting up with it!)

Or perhaps we can examine the all too familiar scene that plays out between millions of young adult females on Friday and Saturday nights. As six of us crowd into the bathroom to try to make ourselves look as close to the impossible image of “perfect” that society has imposed upon us, music blaring and drinks in hand, it’s a chorus of “what about this top with these jeans?” and responses of “well, that’s not bad, but try this instead, that really looks good”. Anyone who dares say something along the lines of “that skirt looks fine, but are your thighs getting bigger?” or “what is that monstrous thing erupting on your face?” risks a hot curling-iron to the eye.

Fascinating how directly opposite our tendencies can be. Here, unguarded and unprompted comments on personal attributes. There, cautious and veiled commentary. And of course, the situation changes when you talk about criticizing your boss or questioning authority or bluntly stating your purpose. How did we come to be so direct in some ways and indirect in others, and why is it so different depending on where you are? And what can we learn from these tendencies about our respective cultures? Stop anyone on a US street and they’ll give you their honest opinion of George Bush. But invite that person to dinner and serve cow eyes, they’ll grin and bear it, and tell you how delicious it was later. Here the president is only criticized in the most intimate of social situations, if at all, but they’ll be the first to point out if you’ve burnt the rice (as I, perpetually, do).

Maybe in my tenth life I’ll be an anthropologist. And for now, I’ll capitalize on this opportunity to figure out once and for all which clothes do, in fact, make me look like I’m “engordar-ing”, as we Americans affectionately call it, and which are more flattering. After all, I’ll never again be blessed with the brutal truth!

The Crocodile Ate It

2008-05-26T00:08:00.000-07:00

The hardest part of microcredit comes when it’s time to collect loan repayments. Watching these women, walking from their mud houses, with children strapped to their backs and big bundles carried on their heads, painfully counting out the equivalent of 40 US dollars, more money than they’ve ever had in one place, just to turn it over to us, is sometimes more than I can handle. Sometimes I can’t even be there, taking what for me is a relatively insignificant sum away from these women. I want to hand it right back and say “take this money, feed your kids, I’ll pay off your loan”.

I know that my way wouldn’t be sustainable. I know that this is how microcredit works. I know that in order for someone else to benefit from the money too, the loan has to be repaid. And if the woman has used the loan well, she is in a better situation than before. But when a better situation means that maybe you’ll be able to eat three meals today instead of two, how can I seriously look at this woman, and with a computer instead of a kid strapped to my back, take away these 40 dollars, hop back into the truck, and act as though we’ve done her a favor?

Although it’s worse for the program, and worse for others who want to borrow money, from an emotional perspective I actually like dealing with women who default better (don’t tell my boss—one of my big projects is supposed to be figuring out how to decrease the default rate—haha). Actually, this is true only when we don’t take anything away from them, thankfully something we haven’t done so far. We were talking to one woman about why she had defaulted on her loan, and she told us about how she was going to try to use the money to sell fish. She gave the fisherman the money, but he was attacked by a crocodile and didn’t bring back the fish. What do you do when “the dog ate my homework” excuse is actually true? Yes, there are all sorts of issues: business skills, money management. But people really are eaten by crocodiles. (On the same trip, hippo came to wade in the river and kids were swimming completely carefree about 50 yards downstream---meanwhile, I’m locking the car doors, half screaming “okay, let’s go!!!!”)

My original organization is still teetering on collapse, but when I passed by this week I found out that our guard had died. The same one who scared the hell out of me the first night I was here and sleeping in the office. He was HIV+, and the week before his death had written a letter to the organization’s president, saying that he couldn’t continue to work because since the funding had been cut he hadn’t been able to eat. If you can’t eat, you can’t take your retroviral treatment, and you certainly can’t fight off opportunistic infections. So the guard died as a direct result of our organization, which exists to provide support to people living with HIV/AIDS, failing to pay its employees. It is so ridiculous on so many levels, and my first real experience truly understanding just how preventable some deaths are. He was relatively healthy when I first got here and he was still being paid.

At the other end of the ridiculous spectrum, two businessmen from South Africa came to Chokwe last week to discuss making the city a wireless hotspot. A wireless hotspot. Seriously??? For my life, that would be about the coolest thing to happen ever. I can’t think of any one thing that would so radically change my life here. I am already dreaming of the possibilities. But it’s weird when I don’t even know anyone who owns a personal computer and I can literally count on one hand the number of people I know who have ever even used the internet, and they’re talking about wireless hotspots. It seems like there are a couple of steps that were skipped. Like cell phones before (and instead of) landlines, the steps of technology that we followed are certainly not those that are being followed here. Thinking about the larger implications, we’re talking about one of the five poorest countries in the world making cities wireless hotspots. Maybe I’m behind the times, but to me this seems inconceivable.

If it ever happens, probably a big if, it’ll be interesting to see how and if people other than myself, my colleagues, and the people at the other NGOs will benefit. Especially if the town is paying for this, will it actually fulfill a compelling social interest, or will it really only benefit people like me? There’s a lot of possibility: technology classes at school, websites to learn English, increased accessibility to information in general. But it’ll take a lot more than just setting up a wireless hotspot to get there. Anyway, even if they decide tomorrow to go through with this, the way things work, I’ll be lucky if it’s set up in a year. But damn, it’s nice to think about.

Visit to the Bush; Life in the City

2008-04-29T01:28:00.000-07:00

Things are continuing to move along. I’m still working with FDC on their orphans and vulnerable children programs and am now starting to work a lot with Project HOPE on their microcredit projects. Right now I’m just getting up to speed and trying to figure things out, and maybe, someday, I’ll actually know what I’m doing! I went out into the field with them last week, to the most rural communities I had ever been to. One was about 2 hours off of the paved road via footpaths that veered every which way. I don’t know how anyone knew where to go. The community was unbelievable. Sometimes there’s well water but it’s not reliable and often dry so they collect rainwater when they can. It was too dry to grow much of anything, so they don’t eat much and when they do it’s basically all cornmeal. If they want to purchase absolutely anything—from tomatoes to bread to whatever—they have to find a way to make the three hour trip to Chokwe. And there’s no public transportation. When we were done with the visit, my colleagues wanted to buy charcoal (what everyone cooks on) because it’s cheaper there than in Chokwe. So, we left the footpaths, drove about half an hour in waist high grass through the brush (again, I have NO clue how anyone could tell where we were) and arrived at a pile of ash. Then everyone got out of the car with big rice sacks and started to dig through the ash and pick out the pieces of charred wood. All I could think of the whole time was my god, all I do to cook dinner is turn a dial…

As everything becomes more familiar and I begin to think of this as my home, I have a lot less patience when people pay extra attention to me or treat me as though I don’t belong here. This is especially true when it comes to male aggressiveness, which I used to brush off but is now increasingly getting under my skin. I never thought how much I’d miss walking down a street anonymously. It’s the cavalier attitude that really gets to me. Nine times out of ten they act as cocky as possible, as if to say that they can call all the shots and have total control over the situation. And even more annoying is that they actually kind of do, and they know it.

I was walking through the market last week, and when I stopped to buy some vegetables a man grabbed my arm, turned my head, and kissed my cheek. I hit him, I guess kind of hard, he stumbled back, and everyone around started laughing at me. I definitely get away with more because I’m clearly a foreigner, but the bottom line was that my reaction was funny—that’s just what guys do and no one’s going to stop them. It was funny that I was offended, and perhaps even funnier that I tried to do something about it. In fact, I’m kind of lucky people laughed, because had they taken it seriously the guy might have felt as though he lost face and been not so happy with me. Of course, unfortunately, this stuff happens everywhere. New York City especially can be ridiculous. But in the past I haven’t stuck out like I stick out here and I’ve been able to talk back. As one of the few foreigners around of course this attention is concentrated, and I have to put up with some of it, but the real problem is that I can’t be assertive about it like I could be at home.

So what is the result? For me, and virtually all Peace Corps females, there are two main negative consequences that we try our best to avoid. First, we stay home more. It’s exhausting when you’re met with some comment every time you leave the house. Sometimes you just don’t have the patience. Second, we become suspicious of any male between the ages of 15 and 50 that approaches us. Even a simple “hello” can provoke an overreaction with the immediate attitude of “what now, no, you can not talk to me like that”. Clearly, neither reaction is positive, and so every day you remind yourself that a, you live here too and can’t just hide out in your house and b, projecting the behavior of a few on the many more people who are nice and just trying to be friendly is just flat out wrong, and doesn’t exactly leave people with the best impression.

So what do you do? Figure out what changes need to happen for this behavior to become less acceptable, and female assertiveness to become more acceptable. And clearly I don’t think I’ll be coming up with the answer to that, so I guess it’s just ignoring it and not letting it bother you. And of course death stares and trying to be an example of an assertive female when it’s warranted. But I can’t wait until the day when I can once again walk down the street and not draw attention. It’s hard to feel at home when you always do. It’s an interesting lesson on what it’s like live somewhere in a small minority, and a reminder of how lucky I am not to feel this way in my actual home. This is our life for two years; chances are I won’t wind up living somewhere where I’m a noticeable minority, at least not to the extent I am here. But for many people it’s their life forever.

JOMA

2008-04-13T11:43:00.000-07:00

I was in Chimoio this week for the JOMA conference which was absolutely fantastic. Chimoio’s about an 18 hour bus ride from my site, and that was not so pleasant, but the actual conference itself was awesome. And I got to see a different part of Mozambique and be in the city for a bit. It’s really an interesting time to be here because it’s just across the border from Zimbabwe and there are a lot of people coming in. I climbed the “Old Man’s Head” mountain (well, more like a hill…) and ate a lot of cheese. I love my site, but if I had to move I’m pretty sure it would be to here.

The conference went really really well but it was a ton of work. We were working 18 hour days—I totally underestimated the amount of work required to organize things like this. It’s also harder because things here are more informal, so it’s not unheard of for your facilitator to need his lesson planned, or to never show up, for example, and then you’re left with a room full of kids thinking wow, what are we going to do. But, it happened, everything ended up well, and the kids finished their projects. The photography kids learned how to use a camera and went to an orphanage and did a photojournalism project, the journalists went to different NGOs and government offices to interview and make a journal of different positions, the theater group preformed a play on alcohol, sex, and healthy lifestyles, and the art kids made a mural in the city about continuing education. We had an HIV testing unit come, and over half of the students got tested. Out of those over 90% were being tested for the first time, and afterwards they hung their testing cards around their necks because they were so proud of it. In the small group sessions one kid actually shared that he is HIV+ and talked about how that’s affected his life. One of the kids wrote basically a love poem to JOMA--yes, a little bit weird, and a lot hilarious, but nevertheless--about how JOMA had changed his life. Unbelievable.

Of course there were still some problems. One of the main goals is gender equality, and there were professors asking volunteers to marry them, or have sex with them, in front of students. There was a lot of stuff left to the last minute that kept us up. But that wasn’t actually all bad because it meant that I got to drink real coffee. We didn’t anticipate a lot of the stuff that happened and there was definitely more than one occurrence of interactions reinforcing gender roles, stereotypes, whatever. But overall, I was really impressed.

And that’s about it. Back to normal life once I get back. Hope things are well at home!

Six months in

2008-03-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve hit the six month mark, and looking at it from here it all of a sudden doesn’t seem like I’ll be here that long. In the beginning I thought the end would never come, but recently time has gone fast. For me, the biggest noticeable change is how quickly something can become a normal part of life. I don’t think twice anymore about bucket baths, cockroaches, or walking into my neighbor’s yard and eating dinner. It’s just what you do, and it’s only when I talk to someone from home or get together with other volunteers that we stop to think “oh yeah, this isn’t how I used to do things”. Of course it’s better this way: I’m no longer pining for things I miss—mostly. It’s amazing how adaptable we can be, and how quickly something becomes our normal life. There are things—small things—that I realize I’m forgetting about the States. When I first got here one of the old volunteers asked me how Maputo seemed different to me than a US city, because it looked to her, after a year here, like an American city. My reaction was “what?! This looks nothing like any American city I’ve ever been to”. Well, I realized after my last trip to Maputo that now it is I who can’t really tell the difference.

I’m still learning that you really just never never never know what you would do in someone’s position unless you’re actually, literally, in it. I know that’s easy to say, but I still catch myself saying “I wouldn’t do that” or “when I’m put in position x I’ll do y”. When I went on a site visit in training to another volunteer who had already been here for year, she told me about her box of worm-infested oatmeal and how she sifted out the worms, cooked it, and ate it. And I was thinking “Ew. A. I’m going to be careful to make sure that bugs can’t get in my food and B. I would have just thrown it out.” Well, three months later, finding some weird kind of bug and its larvae all over my pasta, I took them off, cooked it, and ate it. Because, guess what, it’s impossible to keep the bugs out of your food, they’re everywhere, you can’t throw out everything, and anyway you don’t want to waste the food. But of course I didn’t know any of that, let alone lived that reality, until later, and after I had prematurely made the judgment call. And this was with another volunteer, someone with whom I have a lot more in common than the average person I interact with everyday. I just have to come to terms with the fact that there are some things I will never be able to truly understand, because at the end of the day I will never have anywhere close to the same life experience as a Mozambican. But, nevertheless, this ties back to things becoming normal: I am suddenly used to, and in some cases even taking pleasure in, things that I would have considered an inconvenience.

Maputo for regionals was great. The highlight might have been sitting on the sidewalk at an ice cream shop eating a huge ice cream sundae that, incidentally, cost roughly as much as I normally spend on food for a week (about $8). It was also probably my weekly calorie content as well. The week after next I’ll be going to Chimoio, in the center of Mozambique, about a day’s trip away. I’m helping with a conference run by Peace Corps volunteers for students in secondary schools that come from around the country to learn how to execute a year-long theater, community art, journalism, or photography project on living a healthy life, gender equality, and other life-skills. I spent last week helping write the curriculum that they’ll follow after they come back from the conference, and am really excited for the actual thing, as apparently it was amazing last year. Apparently the kids come out of it so empowered and excited and it’s really cool to see. I’m also excited to see some more of the country.

Hope things are well at home! With six months down I’ll see everyone before we know it.

2008-03-11T05:02:00.000-07:00

I woke up one morning and somehow went from barely having any projects to having four, with four different organizations. I guess I went a little bit overboard looking for new things, and am now chastising myself—I couldn’t just leave it alone, could I? I’m counting on one of them falling through, especially with my organization still having to figure out all of their political issues, but in the meantime it’s been pretty busy. Thank god things in general operate at a slower pace here—there’s a lot of down time waiting for things to go through, etc, so when there’s down time for one I can be working on something else.

One of the groups I’m working with is a group of business-people who go to businesses in the area to give talks on HIV, STDs, gender issues, etc. My boss asked me to put together a quick presentation on HIV basics so that we are all on the same page giving the same information. What I put together was basically a reiteration of those health classes we all moaned our way through—minus making up songs for each STD, I’m sad to say. I was worried it would bore everyone to death, but it turned into a three hour discussion. I was pulling out 9th grade biology info (thank you, Mr. Gallagher…haha) that I thought I’d never see again. I was the expert (scary, I know) just because I explained what an anti-body is, how it’s possible for an HIV+ mother to have an HIV- baby, and why opening a condom just a tiny, tiny bit to allow for conception won’t protect you from HIV.

But my point is that I’m pretty sure that anyone reading this could have stood up there and been the expert. A lot of you much much more so than I. The implications of this are almost inconceivable. Based on knowledge that we take for granted, in front of the right audience, which includes millions of individuals all over the world, we are all experts. It makes you realize how great the potential is, but also the enormity of the divide. Yes, it felt good giving this information to other people, knowing that they would then go to give it to others. But I almost wish that they had been bored by my talk, and that these relatively well-off and well-educated professionals would have encountered this information elsewhere. Without textbooks, libraries, Google, doctors, and in the face of a general lack of education, where can people go to get the answers? Mass media campaigns have people reciting “abstinence, be faithful, and condom use” in their sleep, which is clearly a success, but without clarification and understanding of the finer points, so many questions are remaining unanswered, or answered with misinformation.

I’m off to Maputo for a week for our Peace Corps regional meetings. Showers and restaurants. Heaven. Miss everyone!

finally

2008-02-27T06:12:00.000-08:00

some photos: picasaweb.google.com/katietowt

Festa

2008-02-27T05:46:00.000-08:00

Just back from a fun weekend with the other Peace Corps people in my area. It was an explosion of English speaking, trading of package contents, and American music. Basically, a welcome break from site. We spent the day on the beach, and stayed out til five dancing, assuring me that I can, in fact, still stay up past nine. The club was a weird mix of techno/rave, American, and Mozambican music. I learned (well, kind of…) how to dance passada, and was generally just happy to be dancing and out again. Just maybe I won’t be totally out of practice. Although I paid for it the next day.
I also learned this weekend that the rumor currently circulating in Mozambique is that Peace Corps volunteers are American felons sent here to serve our sentences. I’m hoping that not many people actually believe this, but still funny. And kind of sad that they think we think coming here is equitable to prison. But it’s true that a lot of people are confused (as am I, during my weaker moments) as to why we’d leave the mythical America and family, friends, etc.
I finally decided to brave it and start running, which was a fiasco in the beginning but I think is starting to calm down. They’re starting to get used to seeing me running around, though at first it was quite the fun game for the neighborhood kids to run after the crazy American running in circles and yelling “look at the white person!!” I counted after the first time and there were over thirty following me by the time I was done. But now some of them actually come running with me (as opposed to after me) which is nice, though, I’ll be honest, a little embarrassing when they outrun me. I finally got a bike this week which I’m excited to ride but think it might be a little bit before I tackle that—I’m not sure I’m ready to handle the helmet situation which is even more likely to cause an uproar. But, at least I can provide entertainment I guess!

2008-02-18T05:46:00.000-08:00

Life here continues, still HOT as anything. Avocado season is here which makes me unreasonable happy and adds some variety to my food options. Oranges and tangerines come next, so I’m told.
I’m starting to work more closely with FDC, and they took me on a great trip out to a rural village, for the annual party of a group of volunteers that they support. It was in recognition of their work, for which they only get a t-shirt every year as compensation. I rode out to the village sitting in the back of a Land Rover next to a bull’s head, which later became our lunch. I was definitely the one in the group who stood out, and got a lot of attention, people were passing me their babies and coming up to shake my hand, and I kinda felt like I was running for some kind of political office. They had a lot of fun getting me to try mimicking their complicated dance moves and laughing when I failed miserably. The highlight was when they lifted me up in a chair and danced around me, a la bar mitzvah style. They were all so vibrant and friendly, and I have some pretty good pictures that the FDC people were taking, which hopefully someday I’ll be able to post.
I’ve been hanging out a lot recently with the teenage girls in my neighborhood who come over for help with English homework and like to talk. It’s really weird for me to be spending time with people I consider adults, but that are younger than me. I guess I’ve never been in that position before—I was either hanging out with people my age, people older than me, or people that were still kids. Anyway, English. It’s been really hard because they come with these complicated questions and essays that they’re supposed to write, but it’s all way over their heads and they haven’t learned the basics. They don’t have any books to work from, so it’s hard to know where to begin. Sometimes they don’t have a great command of grammar in Portuguese, so you have to start with that before you even get to the English. And a lot of times what the teachers themselves have written on the board for them to copy is incorrect. I have a newfound appreciation for my parents sitting down with me all the time to help me with homework, and have just found reason 957 that I am not ready to have kids!
The girls ask a lot of questions about home, and I finally pulled out my pics to let them take a look. They couldn’t get enough of them, asking everyone’s name and about every single detail. Apparently, three of my friends have appeared on TV in telanovelas (Brazilian soap operas), and one in films. I had no idea I had such famous friends, but they are absolutely certain. They also wanted to know what has happened to me. Apparently, I’m unrecognizable in the pictures because there I was a “real woman” but now I’m “nothing”, which had me laughing. (Mozambicans are pretty blunt about these types of things, and they meant it just in a matter of fact way and as inoffensively as possible.) As any of you who witnessed my morning routine for the past eight years of “out of bed and out the door in 20 minutes” can attest, I was far from the epitome of good fashion or meticulous grooming. But, I unfortunately don’t have any pictures of that and instead have weddings, and going out in New York, and being at parties and out with friends. Makeup and cute shirts and jewelry are far far away from my current uniform of polo shirts and hastily pulled back hair accessorized only by a sports watch. I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t seen myself in a mirror for 5 months. I’ll try to pull myself back together to at least some modicum of “real woman” status before I get back.

2008-02-08T22:52:00.000-08:00

I went to visit the volunteers in Massingir for the weekend, which is a town right on the border of South Africa. It was almost as rural as Peace Corps placements get, at least in Mozambique, and I have never so much appreciated what I have even here, in my modestly sized town. They have only tomatoes and onions at the market, are a 15 minute walk from the only water supply, and have only a few shops that sell a very very limited selection of packaged goods—pasta, cookies, and soda is about the extent of it. Despite being located at the site of one of the major dams in Mozambique, they only have electricity for part of the day. Their town is about as stereotypically African as you get: mud and straw huts with thatched roofs, which all of a sudden made my simple yet adequate concrete house look not too shabby. I really have to hand it to them because it’s taken quite a bit of adjusting. We spent a lot of the weekend with one of the volunteer’s neighbor and coworker, who is openly HIV positive and very active in the community. It was so encouraging to witness the strength that this woman had and her conviction to increase awareness, which is, in my experience, extremely unique as many positive people that I’ve encountered are living in fear of both stigma and the disease. However also depressing to really understand on a personal level what the woman, and her two year old son who is also positive, had to go through to get to that point.

My boss and I had a great conversation about life in the US this week. She is extremely dynamic and expressive, and the looks on her face while we were talking about some of the things were priceless. She knew about washing machines, but wasn’t aware of the dryer, and I still don’t think she’s convinced that anything could have the same power as the sun. And why would we spend money on something the sun does? Somehow my explanations about time and convenience were unconvincing…She asked if we actually do laundry at night, which is absolutely the craziest thing she’s heard. Also ridiculous is that some of us leave our houses totally unoccupied during the day: how does housework get done? Cooking? On my end, I’m still trying to figure out what makes women’s knees erotic and thus necessarily covered and her breasts not. And trying to avoid unfortunate slip-ups on my end like hanging my underwear on the line to dry—oops! I’ll get the hang of these things eventually…probably just in time to come home.

Despite this interesting cultural exchange, work took an unexpected turn this week when we lost ALL of our funding from our only donor. It’s a long, complicated story but basically the woman who was not elected as the organization’s president got angry, told the donor we were lying about our reports, not conducting the programs we say we are, etc. So, now we don’t have money for our office, to pay our employees, or to run our programs. So, I’m not really sure what’s going to happen or if I’ll have a job next week. It’s SO frustrating, not only because I’ve already put in a lot of work, but also because the organization and its programs have so much potential to be doing good things, and now these internal politics are setting everything back.

As some of you heard, there are riots in Maputo at the moment, but everything is okay at my site and they’re not really affecting me. The people who run the public transportation system, which practically everyone relies on, want to double the fares due to increasing gas prices. As it stands now it is ridiculously inexpensive, by our standards, to travel, but even that is hard for a lot of people to come up with. The government has to approve fare increases, which they aren’t, so the result is a little bit of conflict. The roads into Maputo are blocked, and there’s a bit of unrest and confrontation, but only in the capitol. We’re just not allowed to be there at the moment, and I’m sure it will be resolved soon. But really, everything is absolutely fine at site, it just means that a lot of the things that are usually available in town, that come from Maputo, aren’t at the moment.
Miss everyone!

2008-01-28T04:56:00.000-08:00

Finally, things are starting to get busy! I kinda sorta have a new job. I’m going to be working with my current organization 3 days a week and with FDC (Foundation for Community Development) for 2. FDC is a national NGO that is pretty well funded and has organized programs, and is currently trying to expand to more rural areas. They have an office in Chokwe, and I’m going to be working to help set up an orphan and vulnerable children program in Hokwe, which is a rural community about 20 minutes away. Now I get to do work with both a small/just getting started organization and a big well-established organization and hopefully this will help me figure out what I want to do longer term…maybe. (It also might mean free internet, we’ll see…)
After getting back from Maputo last weekend, I made the mistake of telling my boss exactly why I had gone—to learn about the program for establishing girls’ groups. So the next day I came to work and found a group of girls waiting for me, expecting me to get started. After fighting every urge to turn around and run, I wracked my brain for any childhood game that might be appropriate and was easily translatable, and we played duck duck goose (actually, cat, cat, dog). Not exactly the subject matter I was going for, but it’s a start and they’re coming back this week so hopefully that’ll go a little smoother.
It’s starting to get to the point where I feel like I need to pick a direction to focus on at work, and I’m running into the problem I always seem to have which is that I don’t know what I want to do. Income generation or HIV prevention? Community garden or credit union? I know they’re all related, and my organization is interested in all of it, I just don’t know which way I want to, or can even be successful at, going about it. I know I have to get to know the community better to figure out which will work the best, but I need at least some focus. I’m buying some time by starting with the basics of just even having an organization: they’ve been operating by writing notes on pieces of paper and throwing them together in binders, for example, so we can make that better, and work on assessing the programs they have now, etc. But theoretically the point of building up the organization is to expand the programs and their capacity, so which way to direct it? One of the reasons I did this whole thing in the first place was because I didn’t know exactly what area I wanted to work in, and it turns out I have to decide anyway! Oh well, so much for me escaping the decision-making.
I hired an empregada (maid) to come twice a week, which is really a weird experience for me. She needs the money, though, and honestly I don’t do a good or efficient job with my hand-washing, so it works. She’s so nice and knows how to fix anything and tells me which market stalls are the good ones, and is just generally a good person to have around. She is so underpaid, and I want to give her more, but you have to pay at least somewhat around what your neighbors pay or they get angry when their empregadas want raises. You can get an empregada to work 6 long days a week for about $20 a month. Yes, cost of living is definitely a lot lower, but still. That’s about the amount I spend a month on credit for my cell phone… And yet everyone wants the job. I had at least half a dozen people ask me if they could work for me. She cooks for me too once in a while, which means that I not only get to eat yummy Mozambican food which I still haven’t quite figured out how to make, but it also means dinner company! I can almost pretend that I’m at home having people over….

From the Big City

2008-01-20T02:09:00.000-08:00

I’ve, of course, been loving the mail, and I have to share what one of you wrote because I could not stop laughing for about 20 minutes: “Did I go overboard with my Jesus and God Bless You messages? I was thinking about writing ‘Educational Photos of Jesus, Do Not Bend at the Risk of Eternal Damnation’, but I thought mailing that so close to the White House might raise our national terror alert to orange.” You guys are fabulous and mail day is always my favorite.
I’m in Maputo this weekend for a Peace Corps meeting on the girls’ groups administered by Peace Corps throughout the country. I’m trying to help with the trainings and planning of the annual conference. We’ll see what happens! In the meantime I’m enjoying the internet and ice cream…Maputo is so different from the whole rest of the country it’s a little surreal.
Things here are going pretty well. The days where I feel like I’ve actually been successful at something (even if it’s just putting up curtains) are starting to outnumber the days where I feel totally incompetent, so I think we’re on the right track. Speaking of curtains, I’ve started making my house look pretty, which translates into an explosion of color from all of the bright fabrics with crazy patters that exist around here. I’m so going to be the person with a canary yellow house, pink shutters, and purple trim when I get back.
I’m working right now on finding my organization a computer: translation, grant writing and networking creatively with (i.e. begging, without seeming desperate) more established NGOs for help. But after that hopefully their monitoring and evaluation of programs will be better, which translates into more grant money, so hopefully it’ll work. I went to the hospital this week to work with my org on a project to increase anti-retroviral treatment adherence in positive patients, and was told that HIV prevalence has gone up eight percent in the last three years in Chokwe. Insane, and I’d love to figure out if it’s just because as the number increases the number of people in a sexual “network” where an HIV-positive person is also present is increasing, or if there’s some new factor involved. There are plenty of you who know more about this than me, so if anyone has any ideas, I’m curious…
As I’ve started to become more visible throughout town, I’ve gotten a lot of questions about what I’m doing here. I’ve tried to explain it—organization development is a hard concept to explain anyway, and in Portuguese…But anyway two questions in particular keep coming up and have stuck with me. The first is: does HIV exist in America? This surprised me a bit at first, but not really when you consider that we’ve gotten rid of or quickly treat most of the things that kill people here: malaria, TB, cholera, diarrhea, etc. And if someone asks that, it’s usually followed up by: “do you have a cure in America?” or, different, if only subtly, “you have a cure in America, don’t you?” One is doubt that they would know about a cure available in America, the other shows that some think that of course we have a cure (because why not, we have a cure or treatment for virtually everything else known to them). But in both cases it’s a realization that what is available to them here is not what is available to people there, even when it comes to illnesses that are deadly but can easily be treated.
So if and when we find a cure for HIV, when will it get here? Is there going to be a time when someone will have to say yes, there is a cure for HIV in America, just not here. When we say that about malaria or diarrhea, or for almost anything else, as awful as it is, we can usually sidestep the issue by saying well, they just need to work on improving access to medical care, because these illnesses can be completely treated. But with HIV there is no grey area: you can treat the symptoms and prolong life, but unlike malaria, for example, you cannot just make someone better. Even worse is the idea (not mine, I think it originated with Paul Farmer but don’t quote me) that it might not even be in Africa’s best interest for the world to find a cure for HIV: if it’s not available to the average African and richer countries have cured HIV, is there any incentive for rich countries to continue giving money for prevention in Africa? That is aside from altruistic reasons, which are inadequate considering the prevalence of malaria, TB, etc. Take the case of TB. It’s virtually non-existent in the US and promptly treated when it does occur. Consequently here, where the resources to treat the most basic cases are not available, multi-drug resistant TB has developed and is ridiculously hard to treat because what’s the incentive for companies to develop drugs for it? There’s no market in America because there are resources to treat it before it gets to that stage, and the need is only in developing countries that couldn’t pay for the basic drugs in the first place. So, the TB drugs being used are completely antiquated by today’s standards of fast-developing drug technology and there is, comparatively, hardly any money going into research for something better. I’m not really articulating this well, but are we on track to see the same thing happen with HIV?
Anyway, I realize that this has become somewhat of a rant. What else do people want to hear about? The single most exciting moment of this week might have been taking an actual shower, but I realize that talking about that might be a little ridiculous to those of you who, understandably, see nothing particularly fascinating about chocolate cake. Let me know what you’re interested in otherwise, well, there might be more ranting.

Back To Reality

2008-01-12T07:20:00.000-08:00

Finally back at site. Even though it wasn’t all that far away, the trip took quite a while because the road is so torn up. But the scenery was gorgeous, and it was a great trip. Hopefully I’ll get some pictures up once I figure out how to download them. It was so great and at the same time so weird to be around English speaking friends for a few weeks. I had moments where it seemed like I was almost somewhere back home, but not quite, so it was this weird twilight zone. I got to have coffee and cheese and ice cream and that plus endless conversations in English should hold me over for the next little bit! I know I’m spoiled having other volunteers close by, but I’ll take it.
I got most of the mail that was sent to me at my old address from Maputo today. Thank you guys so much for everything you sent. It was so great to hear about things that have been going on at home, and I laughed and cried and you just have no idea how happy it made me to hear from people. Most of the mail had been sitting in the office for about a month, so things will go faster with the new address!
I was welcomed home by a wonderful new family of cockroaches in my bathroom. Where are they coming from?! I thought I plugged all of the holes. So I have to figure that out, guess I wasn’t as clever as I thought with my plastic bag solution.
On the plus side I’m starting to take big leaps in getting my house together. I was really reluctant at first to do anything that was too permanent: I think that part of me didn’t really want to admit that this was going to be my home for two years, and it was easier for me to just think of it as a temporary thing. But now that I’ve accepted that I will, indeed, actually survive here I’ve been more excited to do things like put up shelves and everything. I’m looking into getting curtains made, and hopefully next week I’ll have a mini-fridge. Which is SO exciting because I’m going to attempt making yogurt.
I start work again on Monday, which I’m a bit nervous about because I’m not brand new anymore so that can’t be an excuse for not knowing what is going on. Hopefully I’ll actually get to start on some stuff, though, and have a better idea of what I’ll be doing for my job. It’s really interesting to be (a very small) part of the cycle of attempting to try to develop an organization that is under resourced—they want me to find a funding source to allow them to purchase a computer, but without internet in the first place, all of my research has to be interpersonal. So what would, in a perfect world, take a couple of hours of internet research will take days of finding the right person to talk to, etc. For those of you that can sympathize with this dilemma from the days before computers, I don’t know how you did it! I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but the speed of things here is one of the hardest things to get used to. Sometimes it’s so hard for me to understand why things can’t move faster, but they just physically can’t. I personally think it’s one of the reasons why people get discouraged trying to implement projects here, because it takes so much longer to do everything. I got home from my trip late last night, and all I wanted to do was eat something quick and easy, but quick and easy meant walking to the market, carrying back groceries, getting water, etc. Just surviving here takes much more effort, which is also hard for the outside observer because at first glance we wonder, for example, why everyone isn’t working paid jobs 9 to 5, but then you realize that water needs to be hauled and vegetables need to be picked, and clothes need to be hand washed, etc. Anyway I’m sure I’m repeating myself, but it’s so hard to get used to. At least it’s keeping me busy!

Up the coast

2008-01-08T00:57:00.000-08:00

So Christmas here actually wasn’t so bad. I went to my colleague’s house and they had a big dinner with lots of people. It was a lot like a summer barbeque. Parts of her family were there, and though some people traveled it wasn’t the same as at home where everyone travels a long way to see each other. Even immediate families were split between locations, and it just wasn’t the big deal that I think it would be in the States. A lot of neighbors and friends came, instead of traveling to see their families. It wasn’t at all like the big family reunion type thing I’m used to. It was fun and really interesting to compare the differences, and I feel like I’m starting to integrate a bit which I was worried about. The difference that struck me the most was listening to the kids talk about how excited they were about the cake they could eat—Santa Clause and the whole idea of present exchange doesn’t exist. Though it was a little bit strange listening to “Smack That” being blasted through the stereo time after time on Christmas. My favorite was, perhaps, being asked to translate into Portuguese “I’ll make it rain on them ho’s”. How proud I am of the American music that makes it across the Atlantic… Though I did get to dance, which was a first for me on Christmas. Maybe I’ll have to bring that element back home.
I spent New Years in the capitol of Gaza on the beach in Xai-Xai, which is about two hours east from where I am. Then this week a friend and I went farther up the coast, to Vilankulo. We went on a snorkeling boat trip to the archipelago off the coast, which was absolutely beautiful. A lot of cool fish, and the beach was amazing. The only people around were the others who came on the boat with us, so you could find your own corner of the island and just sit. Now we’re heading back down, and are in Inhambane for a few days. It used to be the main trading port for the Arabs, Indians, and Portuguese, so there’s a lot of cool architecture all mixed together. All of the buildings are run down, but you can see the remnants of the bright colors and imagine what it must have been like before the war. So, I’m trying to take good advantage of the time I have off from work! Luckily there is a relatively large number of volunteers in Mozambique and they’re spread out, so I can hop between houses. It’s been really interesting to see the differences between my site and the tourist towns. I’ve almost (but still, not quite)felt like I’ve been at home for the past week. There are a lot of ex-pats around, a lot of English, and a lot of amenities to cater to the South Africans and others coming up on holiday. But back to reality next week, and trying to figure out exactly what I’ll be doing at work. Hopefully I’ll remember how to speak Portuguese after a couple weeks of English…

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-23T23:05:00.000-08:00

Itºs definitely not the same not being around family and friends for Christmas. Christmas here is way different, from what I can tell. Itºs also known here as ªfamily dayª, which I havenºt quite figured out yet but I think itºs either a holdover from the communist government in the 80s or because of the large Muslim population. Itºs still all about sensory overload, but not with Christmas music, decorations, and advertisemenmts. Itºs more like fourth of july (without the nationalistic element) or like Italy after their soccer team has won the world cup or a tailgate party or something I just canºt put my finger on. Itºs basically all about relaxing and being with family, partying, loud music (but not christmas music), drinking, and eating. They donºt really exchange gifts, as far as I can tell, and when they do itºs something very small and useful.
Things are going pretty well. My house is getting together. Work doesnºt start again until mid Jan so next week Iºm taking a trip to Vilankulo which is a beach town on the coast. From there, weºre taking a boat trip to the Archipelago de Bazaruto, a national partk with a lot of wildlife, amazing beaches, and good snorkeling. Iºm excited for the change of scenery for a little bit.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

new address, new job, etc.

2007-12-17T01:47:00.000-08:00

This will be my address for (hopefully) the next two years. I’ll get stuff faster if you send it here, as opposed to the old one:
Katie Towt
CP 13
Chokwe, Gaza
Mozambique

So Peace Corps dropped me off this week, and I definitely thought (and let’s be honest, sometimes still think) “damn, what did I get myself into?” I was homeless for the first couple days while they raced to finish my house, so I lived in my organization’s office. I’m moved in now, and am trying to get the house set up. It’s pretty empty. Furniture here is really really expensive so I just have a table, two chairs, and a bed. I’m working on finding drawers and stuff and, don’t laugh, might even attempt to build myself a shelf for books, dishes, and food. Luckily no one will be around to witness this attempt. I did make myself a table out of a box, which I’m pretty proud of. But I do have the luxury of running water, which means I don’t have to cart it. I live in a row-house type thing, so it can get a little bit loud,there is always a game of pick up soccer taking place about 10 feet in front of my door, but I think I prefer that to the alternative of not having anyone around. I still have to figure out what to do with my yard to make it pretty. My neighbors seem really nice, especially the ones who have put up with me asking to borrow one tool or another a million times. I’m definitely the new American in the neighborhood and am getting a lot of attention, but hopefully that’ll stop once they get used to me. I’m sure it will be a work in progress for a long time, but at least I have a place to live! Iºve become a master roach killer, and my greatest achievement of the week has been stuffing the holes in my bathroom with plastic so that they canºt come in. So far, it seems to be working.
Chokwe is great, with a big market with tons of fresh vegetables and a bunch of little shops for other groceries. I can even sometimes get cheese, which is a huge plus. Itºs a small city, so thereºs a lot available. Everyone foreign gets a lot of attention here, which is the way things are in a lot of places, but my favorite is when the guys try to talk to you by using American song lyrics: ªHey baby, nobody wanna see us together, but it donºt matter, no?" It cracks me up every time.
I really like the people at my organization, but after week one I’m still just as confused about what I’ll be doing. The organization operates entirely in Changana, so communication is the number one issue. A lot of the employees don’t even speak Portuguese, so it limits the number of people I can interact with. They don’t know exactly what they want me to do or where I’ll fit in, which means that I have the opportunity to define my own role. Opportunity, yes, but scary as hell. It also means I could easily not get anything done for two years. Yes, I am more than a little bit jealous of people who have more defined roles. I also haven’t exactly gotten a grasp of what all my organization does. I know that’s hard to believe, given that I’ve gone to work every single day this past week. But things move SO slowly here. It also doesn’t help that most of the employees are part time, given that this is almost like a secondary project to them because they work elsewhere where they can make more. I’m so used to the American time frame, it’s unbelievably frustrating when you sit around waiting for a few hours for things to start or until someone shows up, or for whatever. But I guess that’s part of the point, to get out of the American mindset. So I’ve done a lot of waiting, and a lot of formal introductions. Everything has a procedure and process here. There’s an order in which you have to be introduced to people, certain people you can ask one type of question to, another person you can ask other, etc. So, it’s just a lot to get used to. I did get to help a little bit with food distribution for people living with HIV/AIDS and orphans and vulnerable children. It was difficult to see these people lined up waiting for the little bit of food that is nowhere near enough for a month.
My Peace Corps boss said to make a two-year plan for what you want to do, look at the first two months of the plan, and that’ll be what you’ll get done in two years. It’s so unbelievably hard to get used to. But, on the up side, people are definitely a lot less stressed. Well, just stressed about different things, so they don’t stress as much about their jobs, at least in my organization (it’s a little bit different when your job is to work in the fields and make food for your family, which is the main industry here). And I think that’s part of the reason why people are generally happy in the office, which makes the work environment pleasant, at least. Even though I have done a lot of waiting, I’m realizing that that’s how the relationships here are formed, and actually, although it doesn’t seem like it at first, how a lot of the work gets done. By the casual conversations that happen when people are what seems to the American eye as just sitting around. Hopefully things will become more clear this week, though I’m constantly having to remind myself that it’ll take time, which I’ve never been good at accepting. So, frustrating at the moment, but I’ll just keep working at it. At least I have work on the house to keep me busy.
After next week my organization is on break for three weeks, so I’m not sure what exactly I’ll be doing. I don’t think I’m going to go far from home for the holidays, because my house isn’t entirely set up and it’s a big time for crime. I might try to go somewhere after the New Year for a little bit for a break, but no plans yet. Luckily, the beaches are close.
Miss you, everyone be safe over the holidays!

It's Official...

2007-12-07T04:45:00.000-08:00

I'm a Peace Corps volunteer. I've made it through training, somehow, and swore in today.
So much has gone on. My intervention went okay. It was great to see some of the girls, unfortunately not the majority, catch on. But it was hard for me to explain to this age group the completely foreign concept of a goal. I take so m8uch for granted that that word is understood. Equally surprising to me was the group dynamic. The girls were all friends, so I expected them to talk to eachother and engage each other and be less formal. But since I was facilitating I was viewed as the authority figure, and anytime anyone had something to say they timidly stood up from their seat, quietly spoke, and addressed only me, not anyone else, saying "thank you" when they were done, as if I had granted them the priviledge to speak, and then sat down. I was prepared for them not understanding goals, but not this formal environment. It would be really great to find a way to get them to talk to eachother instead of at me.
And, I also met my supervisor. Myhousing at site, as far as I know, fell through, so I have no clue to where I'm supposedly moving in tomorrow. But ready or not the Peace Corps will drop me off so I'll figure it out from there. Definitely terrifying,. Meeting my supervisor was interesting. As I think I mentioned it's a small and very local organization in Chokwe, Gaza. I figured out that most of the people there and whom they work with speak Changana, so we talked in broken Portuguese. The though of having to converse in yet another language is also terrifying. Also, both a blessing and a curse, they don't really know what they want me to do. They need funding, program development, training support, outreach development: basically support for all their programs. But who knows where I fit in to that.
Also interesting is that this is an organization made up solely of commmunity memebers, not professionals (in the strictest meaning of the term). Great for knowing the target population and the environment, more challenging in terms of technical and business skills. Which is, agian, terrifying, because I supposedly can tell them all about this stuff.
Anyway, there's just so much going through my head right now, and the bottom line is I have no clue what is going to happen. It's funny what you can get used to--if you had told me before that there were so many unknowns and so much up in the air, I almost guarantee I would have been like hell no but now I'm here and they've somehow made me think this is normal. I'm more than a little scared of being dropped off at my empty house (hopefully there will be a house...) and then finding all of the things I need to make it a home in the next few weeks. I love that the first time I'm living absolutely alone I'm doing it here, where I'm totally lost on things as seemingly simple as how to find a table for my house. Damn I wish there was IKEA...
Miss you all so much!

My Placement! Finally!

2007-11-24T06:40:00.000-08:00

We finally found out where we're going! I'll be in a good sized town in Gaza Province, working with a relatively new community based organization called Associacao PEDLAR. They work on support and education for people living with HIV/AIDS, single mothers, orphans and vulnerable children, and other vulnerable populations. I'm hoping to work on income generating projects and gender issues, and since its small and they seem open to what I want to do, hopefully that'll work out. But trying not to get my hopes up... Apparently it's a really committed group, but they don't have a lot of money or organizational capacity--so I'll probably be doing some grantwriting. And working on getting them a computer..
I get to meet my supervisor the week after next, so I'll know more then, but it's such a relief to at least have an idea of what's going on.
I don't know much about my actual town, but it's on the bigger side (and I'm wishing on everything it has internet...)about 2 hours west of Xai-Xai. I'm really excited to see my house, which will, fingers-crossed, be finished in the next two weeks. I'm apparently living behind a sweet old woman, so hopefully she'll be a good communiuty link. A lot of my friends are going further up north, which is sad, but at least I'll have places to visit. And there are some good people around me too. I have a site mate and am about 2 hours from the closets health volunteer. I'm also still in striking distance of Maputo, which is convenient.
This week for training we have to do an intervention to be observed for feedback. I'm working with 10-12 year old girls, and we're going to talk about setting goals, and obstacles that can keep us from reaching our goals. HOpefully they'll come up with things like HIV, early marriage, etc. Or I'll tell them...in Portuguese...That's the plan anyway. It's challenging because I can really only ask them to pay attention for a short time, but there is so much to cover. Especially since this is really a new concept for most people, because children, especially girls, are never asked about goals and, as I learned from a trial run, it takes some discussion to grasp the concept of a goal in the first place. So how do you, in one sitting, define, make and identify obstacles to your goal, when you've never even thought about it before? Again, trying not to have high hopes and am consoli8ng myself with the idea that I'll try it now and perfect it later.
Thansgiving was sad without everyone, especially since I had so much fun going out in New York the night before and being with family last year. This year I ate my stew over xima, which is great, but still depressing on Thanksgiving. Today we're in Maputo for our version of Thanksgiving which will be lunch at an Indian restaurant. At least I get Indian food out of the deal.
US bureaucracy does come to Mozambique, in case anyone had any doubts about its ability to cross an ocean. None of us have received letters for 6 weeks, and I'm thinking it's more likely that it's a Peace Corps problem rather than the postal service repeatedly losing the mail for 65 volunteers. So sorry if I haven't replied, I'm sure I'll get them eventually, and it doesn't mean you shouldn't write (shameless plug for mail here...)I'll let you know my new address at site soon!
Hope you're all doing well!

Site Visit!

2007-11-10T05:00:00.000-08:00

Just got back from visiting a volunteer in Xai Xai for the week. It was so much fun, and so so great to get away from language training and living with a host family for a bit. I finally got to see that there is life beyond training, and the volunteer was so happy at her site and everything seemed to be going well. I really liked her organization and am actually starting to think I might want to live at a rural site--which is exactly the opposite of what I was saying before I left. But she got to know all of her neighbors and was really integrated into the community, which I think would be cool. She also gets to work for a community based org, so she has a lot of responsibility and leadership within the organization. And there's always the weekends for trips into the city and stuff. Wow, if only I could hear myself now three months ago...But everyone I've talked to has seemed to have had a great time, so I guess I can make any site work.
My favorite part of the week was going into the village's sacred forest, where they perform all of the traditional ceremonies. Her organization is working with youth in that community on income generating projects, and we got to see the statues they were learning to carve and the source of the water that they might start to bottle, and then where they'd be building the new wells. As it is, people have to walk about a mile to get their drinking water, so it would be cool if that could be moved closer in to the center.
At the end of the week, all of the volunteers in Gaza Province went to the beach at Xai Xai and 30 of us rented 2 beach houses for a night--quite a squeeze. But they overlooked an absolutely amazing beach and it was a great way to end the week. Now back to the reality of homestay and an intensive week of tech training. But at least now I have a much more concrete idea of what I'm working towards.
I miss you guys and can't believe it's already November! Thanks for all of your letters and everything, and hopefully I'll be able to update this is more depth at some point...

Phone!

2007-10-21T12:09:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! I have a phone. The country code is 258 and the number is 827604339. It’s free for me to receive texts and calls, and cheap for me to text (but really expensive for me to call). If you’re going to attempt to call use Skype or a phone card.
We came to visit other volunteers in another town today, so I finally have internet again. Hopefully I’ll learn not to miss it, but for now I definitely do.
The town is surrounded by beautiful mountains and is really built up with Portuguese architecture. It is really pretty and good to get away from the smaller town for awhile and see other people. Things are still going great where I’m living and it’s definitely nice to have a community where everybody knows you. My excitement for the week was cowering in my room while the people in my house attempted to kill the snake outside. It was scary. Portuguese is frustrating, but it’s coming. We’re starting to get more in-depth technical and community development information, so that’s exciting. Basically, we’re all counting down the day until we know where we’ll be going. I get to go on a site visit soon to stay with another volunteer for a few days and see how life will be after training.
Thanks for all of the emails, I don’t get a lot of internet time but I promise I will answer them all when I have the chance.
Miss you guys!

This is Africa

2007-10-06T03:03:00.001-07:00

Everything is wonderful! Iºve only really been here a week, and I donºt know where to begin. So much has happened. Iºm in my homestay now, and my family is great. Iºm learning a lot of new things, like how to take ªbucket bathsª and cook over campfire~like things. Portuguese is coming along, slowly, and Iºm terrified I wonºt be able to communicate but with more practice it will hopefully be fine.
Everyone here is so nice, so helpful, and the friendliest people Iºve ever met. Last night I went to a pre~wedding ceremony, where they lay out all of the brideºs clothes and sing songs and dance. I didnºt understand most of it because it was in the local language, Chingana, but it was one of the coolest things Iºve ever been a part of. The whole community came together to dance and sing and it was just amazing. They had all of these call and response type payer things which they really got into and it was pretty cool. On which note, Iºm learning how to dance! They pull us up and tell us that we have to learn how to ªmix our hipsª. Itºs pretty funny.
The pace of life here is also amazing. These people live with far far far far less than we do at home, but are seriously more happy. Everyone is always telling me how much they love life and that theyºre so happy. If Iºm not smiling, for like one second, they come up to me and ask me how Iºm feeling and that I must smile because Mozambique is the land of ªhappy peopleª. I really wish I could better express how amazing everyone has been. Iºm not going to bore anyone with all of the stories, but Iºve really been integrated into the community. The kids are the cutest ever. They all follow me to school and run up to hold my hand. And they are ALWAYS dancing. Seriously, I was watching them at the party last night, and they get down WAY more than I ever did at any party. Hopefully Iºll learn from them so I look less like a fool when I dance here.
So yes, things are great! I still donºt know where Iºll be permanently or what Iºll be doing. Weºre doing intensive Portuguese for the next 9 weeks, and then Iºll go to site. Weºve been talking a lot, though, about the possibilities for projects, and Iºm really excited because it sounds like a lot of the previous volunteers have done some pretty cool things.
Hope you are all well, and I miss you!
also, sending mail back home is actually really expensive from me, so it unfortunately wonºt happen quite as often as i thought. but iºll do my best, and will always update this when i can!

I'm here!!!

2007-09-27T13:29:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! Mozambique is wonderful!
Sunday was staging, where I met the 68 other volunteers, all of whom are great and super energetic and so excited to be here. Then the long long long trip to Jo'burg, where we spent the night, and on to Maputo this morning. Now we're finally here (staying in a hotel with actual electricity and an internet connection!), and meeting all of the other PCVs in the country and the staff. I'll be going to homestay soon, though, so who knows what the situation will be like there. Right now, we're near the beach and the weather is beautiful. So far, it's been mostly conferences and seminars, getting the info and regulations. I can't wait to get out into the actual city, which looks like it has so much personality and markets and street performers, etc. We did get to see a performance by musicians and dancers from the southern provinces which was at our hotel--it was a reception for the president, which is pretty cool. So I'm here, life is good, and I'm sure I'll let you guys know when something more exciting than seminars is happening. I feel like a little bit of a kid at the moment, beause I don't really know how to do anything, but language training starts tomorrow, so that will hopefully help. Miss you all!

updated mailing info

2007-09-27T13:26:00.000-07:00

So apparently I might have told a few people to overdo it on the religious stuff on mail--it should definitely be on there, but if there's too too much my mail will get flagged and I'll have to go talk to the embassy. And we don't wan't that. So a happy medium is good!

Contact Info

2007-09-20T15:45:00.000-07:00

Since internet in Mozambique is so slow, emailing everyone frequently will be hard. Hence the blog.
Please send me things! My mailing address in Mozambique will be:

Katie Towt, PCV
Corpo da Paz/U.S. Peace Corps
C.P. 4398
Maputo
Mozambique

You can always reach me here, but I'll have a more direct address in December. Write "airmail" and "par avion" on everything, and number letters. Mail tampering happens, so it helps to write religious things like "God bless" or draw crosses. Writing "teaching materials" also helps. Apparently, some people think that they will be cursed if they open such things. Not kidding...

Send things in padded envelopes if you can, but if you're sending something in a box, please please please undervalue it as I'll have to pay customs tax on it. If you're sending anything of value or import it should be sent DHL to a different address, which my parents have.
I will have a phone, and I'll let you know how you can get in touch with me once I set that up. My skype name is: katie.towt.
Keep in touch and let me know how things are going!