There’s running water.
There’s an office with air conditioning.
There’s a projector in my classroom.
I haven’t ridden in a chapa in a week.
My colleagues have college degrees. And a sense of responsibility.
There’s a supermarket that sells cheese. CHEESE.
My house has two bedrooms.
There is a restaurant that delivers pizza.
Heck, I even wear pants and shirts with sleeves to work willingly because the weather is positively bearable.
I don’t know when they kicked me out of Peace Corps, but I hope they don’t realize I’m still receiving my living allowance anytime soon.
OK but seriously, Chimoio is a different world, in terms of my house, my work and the town itself.
But this is what you call security. It takes four different keys to get from the street to my front door. Each outside door – three in total – come with a deadbolt, a locking grate on the outside and a bar across the inside. The porch doors close and lock. And there are two locking gates on a fence that reaches several feet above my head and ends in a spray of purple flowers. Meant to be.
There are certain times where I simply have no idea how things came to be...but I'm grateful for them, anyway. At the Universidade Catolica de Mocambique, where I was originally brought to teach English, I am now also the Director of the Communications program (something about the director they had in mind deciding to quit the week before classes started...).
There’s an office with air conditioning.
There’s a projector in my classroom.
I haven’t ridden in a chapa in a week.
My colleagues have college degrees. And a sense of responsibility.
There’s a supermarket that sells cheese. CHEESE.
My house has two bedrooms.
There is a restaurant that delivers pizza.
Heck, I even wear pants and shirts with sleeves to work willingly because the weather is positively bearable.
I don’t know when they kicked me out of Peace Corps, but I hope they don’t realize I’m still receiving my living allowance anytime soon.
OK but seriously, Chimoio is a different world, in terms of my house, my work and the town itself.
A Minha Casa
After a month of living out of a hotel, I finally moved into my house. I had often imagined that moment when the man hands me the key to my new front door. However, I wasn’t expecting this.
But this is what you call security. It takes four different keys to get from the street to my front door. Each outside door – three in total – come with a deadbolt, a locking grate on the outside and a bar across the inside. The porch doors close and lock. And there are two locking gates on a fence that reaches several feet above my head and ends in a spray of purple flowers. Meant to be.And here's the inside...
A Minha Escola
There are certain times where I simply have no idea how things came to be...but I'm grateful for them, anyway. At the Universidade Catolica de Mocambique, where I was originally brought to teach English, I am now also the Director of the Communications program (something about the director they had in mind deciding to quit the week before classes started...).So, I've got a group of students starting the first year of the new communications program that I get to introduce to ideas of press freedom, writing skills, accuracy, brevity and timeliness, and all those other things that made me fall in love with journalism. Unfortunately, I don't get to beat them over the head with AP Style and the First Amendment, since those don't exist here. Here are a few of my students representing in the communication's department white and blue.
Again, I have no idea how I just happen to luck into these things...but I won't ask questions and just work and hope they keep happening.
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