Taratibu in Photographs

Taratibu

Taratibu is an elephant reserve about 150 kilometers west of Pemba. It was built and is owned by Jacob. I am certain he has a last name but I don’t know it. Most everyone here goes by first names, even Muhammed and Muhammed. Here, his name is pronounced “Ya-kobi” and he is kind and gentle. He is one of those people who you can simply look at and see their kindness. I ran into him last week and I knew I liked him when I shook his hand. This encounter led me to Taratibu. 

Rapha, Ana, Ali, Ruth and I loaded up the black truck with noodles and cookies and cameras and headed west. We stopped in Mieze for bread, bananas, tomatoes, and peppers. You have to plan your own meals. Small huts come furnished with twin beds and an ice cold shower. We drive until we see a dirt road that looks insignificant enough to look familiar. Rapha and Ana have been before. Once on the dirt road we are glad we have the 4x4. We drive through 45 kilometers of the real Mozambique. No electricity, no shops, or restaurants, just huts. Tiny and sporadic. Everything in dirt orange and brown underneath a big blue sky. Children come out to greet us. Swollen bellies. Women wave too. The men play it cool, ignore us and sip their hot gin. 

We drive until a fork in the road. Three people stand watching us. The right fork is a large hill, invisible on the other side. We stop. We roll down the window. They looked lost and so do we. We find out that they are our Guide and our Cook. They want a ride to work. They jump in the back of the truck and off we go. We drive into the camp and into another world. The grounds are lush and green. The rooms and common areas are thatch and wood and beautifully constructed. I have seen Jacob’s architecture here in Pemba and I recognize his handiwork. A closer look at the guide and cook and an introduction reveal Dennis and Laurinda. Dennis is dark and bald with a deep voice. Laurinda is small and neatly dressed in a western style floral dress that buttons down the front, not a capalana. She is thin and wiry and has big hands. She is pretty. She informs us that she is there to wash our dishes and will cook for us if we need her to. Dennis is our guide and will take us to look for the elephants.I never figured out who the third guy was. 

We take ourselves to our rooms which are three small round huts with twin beds and a bath. The construction is Jacob’s and well done. The bathroom is tiled and all water comes from a spring just outside the door. There are no mosquito nets because there are no mosquitos. 

We gather in the large pavillion where there is a small stove and refrigerator. The power is by generator and is on from 5pm until 8:30pm. We made grilled cheese sandwiches and drank cold bottled Cokes. Dennis came to find us. He was dressed in a dark green shirt, thick material, neatly pressed, with epaulets, thick black belt, matching hat tucked into his pants, matching dark green pants, army boots. He smells like cheap cigarettes, even cheaper booze and sweat. He smells like Uncle Henry. I am only making the association now, some 25 years later. His voice is so deep and he slurs his words a little. Pretty certain that is just the way he talks and not the booze. I catch every 10th word as I do with most native Portuguese speakers. I listen for about 60 seconds as I know this is important stuff, but then my brain starts to hurt as I try to translate and I give up and start to day dream about getting to see the elephants. I notice we are dressed a little alike. I am wearing army green pants too. Cargo pants from J. Crew and a white v neck t-shirt with my Mary Jane Keen’s. No socks. The only thing I get from the speech he makes is Rapha’s translation. “If the elephants start to charge, kick the ground to raise up dirt and run in the direction that the dirt falls, because that is the way the way the wind is blowing”. That sounded really complicated. I quickly kicked the dirt for practice. It went in the direction I kicked. I wondered if that was wind or inertia, I turned the other way, kick and the dirt changed direction. I then decided I would stick close to Dennis in spite of the smell and that perhaps his odor was the best indicator of being upwind or down. 

We traipsed through what looked like the set of Jurrasic Park for an hour and a half and I was absolutely mesmorized. I kept getting left behind for being complely awestruck. I could only recongize one or two trees. Dennis pointed out the amarula tree and elephant dung. We walked through areas that had been burned for one reason or another. We walked inside a large dry riverbed. There were huge chunks of granite everywhere and we walked across large mounds of it. One minute I was in an absolutely foreign terrain and the next I was at the Conyer’s Horse Park running the Granite Grinder. It was identical. Trees and cacti and moss on mounds of granite. 

Taratibu is surrounded by a range of granite mountains or inselbergs. They are grand and their colors constantly changing hues as the African sun moves among them. The rolling clouds hang low as they always do around here. 

We see a few elephant tracks and some dung, but that is all we see of the allusive elephants.

We come back to camp for cold drinks and very, very cold showers. We gather in the large pavillion and prepare our spaghetti. We break out the deck of cards and enter into a rousing game of Hand and Foot. I win. We rush to finish our game before the generator is shut off and we are left to spend our evenings in very, very dark night. I crawl in bed with my headlamp and Kindle and read a Chapter in The Wives of Henry VIII. 

I wake to Ruth calling my name. We have all overslept for our 5:30 guide with Dennis. We scramble eggs and make coffee and load in the truck. We drive through deep forest until we come to a wide riverbed. We take off our shoes and step in. Two men come from the other side of the river to greet us. Their chests and shoulders both covered in flies. The flies scatter when they reach shake our hands but light on their thin faded shirts a moment later.  Inside the riverbed we find large lion prints. We have looked for the illusive elephants from above, now we are looking from within, the watering hole. We trudge up the riverbed following closely behind Dennis. All fear of much of anything fades as I stand amazed to be seeking real elephants in the heart of the jungle. With a Canon and an iPhone. We have no luck in the river and climb a mountainside. There we inhale stunning 360 degree views of the African subtropical rainforest below. It is Sunday morning. We lie on the granite mountainside and bask in the sun. Dennis hides in the shade. 

We come back to camp for lunch and naps made mandatory to save our friendships and meet up again for another hike up another mountain in the afternoon. We are learning how to do it at this point and sit quietly perched on the side of the mountain passing cookies and binoculars watching baboons play in the trees. We scamper back down to beat the sun. Laurinda brings us a warm bowl of xima piled high and a pot of stewed matapa, peas, tomatoes and onions. It is great except for the bits of dirt that are inevitable for some reason in meals like this. We resume Hand and Foot and play until the clock strikes 8:00.

Determined to see elephants or at least more of this fascinating playground, I set my alarm for 4:50am. I make the coffee with my headlamp on my forehead, but the sun is already rising. Rapha and Ruth join me and Dennis shows up with his trusty pre Mozambican civil war gun across his back. 

We walk inside another riverbed this time. This one is dry but I keep getting sand inside my Mary Jane’s. The sites are incredible as this forest is waking up. The noises are all so unrecognizable. A bird. A monkey. We step on ancient rock. A canopy of lush green trees drips with morning dew. I feel it on my face and in my hair. I soak it in. I snap pictures and rush to keep up with the others. Wet sand in my shoes. 

Taratibu has captured my heart. I will never forget it. I will remember my time in Africa and I will remember my kids and the ocean and I will remember Taratibu. We arrive to find Jacob loading up a truck that looks like  a small military tank. He steps out to greet us. He asks if we have had any luck and we shake our heads. He then tells us the sad story. In the past 6 months they have found 45 dead elephants. Poachers have come with AK-47s and killed them. They have left their offspring behind. They killed a pregnant mother who gave birth when the killed her and then they killed her baby. I thought Jacob would weep telling us the story. He told us of the orphaned elephants. There are no elephants left now, he told us. He has thought of trying to capture the orphans and create a space for them. His reserve is now just a getaway and not at all an elephant reserve at all. There are no elephants left. We shook our heads and looked at our feet and for a small moment we felt his pain. He has invested over 20 years here in this place. He created Taratibu. It is his heart. 

It is a fascinating place. The silence, the stars, the jungle, Dennis. I never dreamed I would ever get to experience something quite like that. It was an honor to get to go and experience Jacob’s creation of Taratibu and God’s creation of the African jungle. This world we live in is so gigantic. I cannot get my head around it all. The jungle 3 hours away. The villages we passed through. The children with swollen bellies and rags. No education. No doctor. Uttermost ends of the earth. I haven’t a clue what to do about any of it. The orphaned. The hungry. The poor. The elephants. I do believe I am getting to see it all for a reason. I want to go back, just to take it all in one more time. But now I home. I have work to do. The day of celebration of Mozambican Independence is over. And my little vacation is over. I have eager students who will be greeting me in the morning and a vocational school to run. A task almost as daunting as tracking down elephants poachers. I reckon we all have our calling and our place. Jacob’s heart is big enough to fight for the orphans of his world and I am standing right in the middle of a life of fighting for those in mine. I wished you all could have been there. It really was amazing. And if you are ever in the country, you must go!

Taratibu

Just returned from Taratibu, the elephant reserve. Details coming...


http://www.kaskazini.com/en/content/taratibu-bush-camp 

Growing

So we are finding out that maybe the boys didn’t steal after all and that is good. We still aren’t quite sure but no confessions were made. They told us that a woman gave them more change than they were supposed to be given back, but then we never saw that extra money in the end. Rodrigo asked them what would be the right thing to do and after a few times of asking them in a variety of ways, we think they got it and are going to return the money to the woman. Rodrigo discussed with them at length that this is their business and if they steal then they are stealing from themselves. We had arranged to take a truck into town but it will cost 200 mets. They decided that was eating into their profits and opted to walk instead. We gave them the money to buy the grocery items for this week and gave them each 100 mets for their work. They decided not to take the 100 mets, but to keep it with us and build up a reserve so that they will not have to rely on us to front initial costs and will soon be able to do it fully themselves. I am proud. So now their little business can take off and we can simply continue to monitor and advise. 

We have now been given a small monthly budget!! We have been wanting to hire one of our older students to teach a Community Health course and this will make it possible. The students have been asking to have events together on Friday nights and we can use the money for this too. Rodrigo and I both feel that we don’t have the community we had anticipated with our students. Initially this was supposed to be for our Iris kids, but they showed no interested so we opened it up to village kids. They come and go and only about 10-15 are consistent. One morning we will have 50 and the next, 20. It makes it very difficult to teach any subject fully. It also makes it hard for us to get to know them. We are thinking about starting an application process and being strict about attendance to hopefully get a core group of dedicated students. We are absolutely making this up as we go along. 

I am teaching my heart out every day with English classes but when I test them or do conversational games, I get frustrated with all that they do not know. They sit so diligently and patiently through each class and never say that they don’t understand. I do my best to engage them and include everyone and ask lots of questions and call on each student. I all but stand on my head! This is hard. 

We may have an opportunity to start another small business. A Gift Shop! I can see it all now. I want to offer local goods. Local straw and banana leaf bags and baskets and mats. I want to package and sell local honey and cashews (one of the only export items in Mozambique- other than oil). I want to take capalana fabric and make all sorts of things. For now, the plan is to include the students in lessons on starting up a business. We will need a brand and want to market it and want to find sources for the honey, cashews, fabric, etc. So we are created classes around this for now. 

Also, Rodrigo and I met today with a local hotel. They are willing to work with us on letting our students shadow some of their workers and are very interested in hiring more employees within the next year for an expansion project. They are at capacity now with 106 rooms and are building 80 more. They will need additional employees and we can step in at just the right time to give our kids time to learn the job and be fully trained and be the perfect candidates for hire when the times comes. 

Monday is a national holiday. They have more holiday’s here than the State of Georgia. I am going to an Elephant Reserve! I have heard that it existed. I once heard it was far away and then I heard it was close by and then I heard it was closed and then I heard that the elephants weren’t “out”. But I ran into the owner last week and decided that I could not live here for two years of my life and not get to experience the elephants. So, I am going!

i have been told being a fisherman here is a very low paying job. but it sure looks like fun.

office visitors.

town.

fish tree.

in case you were wondering

luis didn't leave me enough money for gas and it would not start. small parts are missing and the odometer that once read at least a couple of hundred of kilometers, now reads 000002. in midst of it all we have exciting things on the horizon. some too premature to discuss just yet, but close. thank you for giving and praying. we started the personal shopping business today. it went okay. not great. but fairly successful. we are suspicious that the boys pocketed some of our profits but there really is no way in knowing. so trying to figure out how to disciple and love and correct and instruct and still disciple and love and not wring necks.

passport stamped!!!

the rooster is crowing again and i am up and about. coffee poured. attempting to open emails from my one tiny bar of internet reception. i really must hurry and i don’t know why my desire to sit and write and revelation of things to say either comes in the night just before deep sleep or in the mornings when i am on my way out the door. still in my pajamas. i got my scooter back yesterday! they had it for ONE MONTH! i had to pay $112. i am pretty sure i have now spent as much on the scooter as i paid for it. he returned it with no gas. i took it in with a full tank. he replaced parts that didn’t need replacing but i was not there to argue and i don’t have the vocabulary for all that fussing. i did yell about the gasoline and how long it took. it didn’t make me feel any better. i was just happy to be scooting again. the walks to the other base have done me good though. i need the exercise. i plan to still walk some but i already know how that will work out. i am already excited to have an extra 20 minutes this morning to get ready. i can actually prepare breakfast or do my hair. read a a few more pages. 

heytell and whatsapp have changed my life and i love hearing your voices. even if they come sporadically and only when the 3G is up and working. if you have a smart phone, get these! and send me a message. you can find me via facebook through heytell and via my phone number for whatsapp +258824077677. 

last week rodrigo and i looked at property just for fun. we found a property with a huge wrap around porch. possibly six bedrooms. we walked around it and imagined opening and restaurant and guest house here. using our students of course and having a training program that operates out of the business. we could still do English courses but then open the business as a training grounds to train up students in a variety of trades. chefs, waiters, receptionists, gardeners, housekeepers. just dreaming about what could be another phase of the school and about big, huge possibilities that seem way out of reach, that only God can do. it was so much fun. 

we have help now in the form of mission school students. three of them want to help us with the actual vocational training school and help us brainstorm about courses to offer, finding curriculum and with administration. they also have expertise in small business development. another is a math teacher and two more are helping teach English, all in the afternoon sessions. we have started our small business of essentially buying groceries for the mission school families. we will add more students later. today is the first day. we are anxious to give our students something tangible to work on. 

i finally have my passport in hand! i know that no one here who reads this would take the details of this event and report them to authorities but after being arrested for being presumed a reporter or Al Qaeda? i really think i will not write about it. i will save that story for the book. :)

my english classes are going fairly well. the helpers take the beginner students and i am working with the more advanced in grammar. we are still on the present progressive and simple present. they are not grasping the difference and i have explained it every way i know how. so i am also introducing new verbs and those that are regular and irregular. they know a lot of verbs and i am impressed. but they struggle to actually speak up in class and use the verbs they know in sentences. they use the same sentences over and over. if i have them fill in the sentence, “ I am going to...” they always say, “town” or “beach”. always. no one says “ Timbuktu”. 

so i have spent my extra 20 minutes here and i must get ready. i am hoping that the empty tank Luis left me will at least get me to class and to the nearest petrol station. 

brief update

My passport has been officially signed and I am now legal in the country! Details forthcoming. Launching our business this week!

The neighbors.

Local art find.

Barbershop.

Garbage with a view.

Morning bath.

je ne sais pa

The power just came back on. I assume they are running the generator. I need to quickly go wash dishes and flush the toilet and brush my teeth while we have water. I woke up to darkness and a quiet that let me know the power was out. I bought a book lamp during my trip home. It was on the top of my list of things to get. I grabbed the book light from my desk and the paperback lying flat and facedown by my bed and rolled over on my back, propped up slightly by my duo of pillows and finished my book. I read a lot here. When I first came I missed television, but after going home and not even getting to watch much then, I realized I must have overcome my addiction and now I just read books. My genius father somehow downloaded over 200 books for me. I am fully stocked. Now I am trying to decide what to read next. I am always open to suggestions.

This week of classes went really well. I have such eager, attentive students. Baptista returned after spending a few days out at the farm. Our missionaries there have left for their break so he won’t be going again until they get back in November, but I am glad he had the opportunity to go and just try it out and see if it is something he may want to do. He is a smart boy and Jeff, our missionary, said the he could easily get a government job as an agricultural worker if he were to chose that route. One of my students writes poetry and gave me a poem to translate into English for him. He is tall and thin and really black, much darker than the other boys. He has a gap in his front teeth. He sits on the front row. He is one of the older boys. He speaks French and prefers to speak to me in French rather than English. But my Portuguese is way better than my French but I love hearing this tall skinny very black boy speak in a  French accent, so I listen and nod. The afternoon class is full of very competitive, advanced English speaking boys. I have one I call my teacher’s pet. He always stands to ask a question and always asks me very hard questions. I kinda cringe every time he asks something because I am afraid I am not going to know the answer! So far, I have known each time but it is only a matter of time before he stumps me. We had a long discussion the other day as a class on various words and how they all have various meanings. They want to know which definitions I prefer and are particularly attentive to my choice of words in speaking. They have become little parrots and I here them telling each other, “very nice” and “good job” and “that was perfect”. All phrases I use to cheer them on. I taught them how to use the word “likewise” and they ate it up. They like learning differences in formal and informal English and love finding ways to impress. But it doesn’t take much at all to impress me, they blow me away every day. 

I have had help this week in the form of visitors. Iris is blessed to have hundreds of visitors a year, if not thousands if you count mission students. We, as a school, want to capitalize on this by having them come and teach in our school. I believe it is important for our students to get a broader world view to help them in their own world and visitors play a big role in this. This particular group just came to help me teach English. They were a huge help. They simply took the more beginner students and divided them into small groups and gave them more individual attention. Our beginner students could then, in a more comfortable setting, practice what words they know and build their vocabulary. All the while, hopefully, learning a little more about other people and the world around them. 

I have been tutoring one on one some also. If I had more hours in the day, I would do more of this. The individual attention does work best but I just cannot give them all that kind of time. I hope that some of our mission school students will be able to serve in this capacity.

We are about to start up our first business. We plan to help 6 or 7 of our students create a business to serve as personal shoppers for the mission school. It is a simple business model that should work nicely, is low risk and will teach students about basic finance. We will distribute order forms of basic goods that one can get in town or at a barraca and our students will deliver those items within 24 hours to the client. It is kinda like Webvan, without the web or the van. So, it is more like Paperfoot but that sounds stupid. So we don’t have a name for it yet, but it will essentially be a personal shopping business and with 300 potential clients and our eager kids, I think it will be a successful first business venture. 

Yesterday I went swimming with the dolphins again. I went a few times during my previous six months here. It is breathtaking. I figure my time to live on the ocean is numbered. January 2013 to be exact, unless I stay,  and I want to take every opportunity I can to explore the sea.  It was just a small group of us, a wooden boat. The same guide we always have. Thin, shirtless, smoking cheap cigarettes. All our wallets and cameras and gear in a plastic bucket, kinda sealed. The boat leaks.  I have learned to pack light and just have my money in a wad stuck in my bathing suit top. I put the house key under the mop bucket. I wear an African kikoy as a towel. After about 20 minutes in the little leaky boat we spotted them. We all plopped over the side in snorkle and fins and dove down just in time to see a pod of 5 or so dolphin swim underneath us. We do this over and over about 6 times, anticipating them to turn or circle and stay with us. A few times the dolphin would surface with us close by or turn and look at us underwater. One guy got really, really close to one underwater. We saw female dolphin swimming with their younger maybe adolescent offspring. It was just incredible. We then went snorkeling for a little bit and were home before lunch. I walked across the street and down the road to my little house and fixed a sandwich. 

Rodrigo is back and I am glad. I need his help. He drove for 8 days round trip to get to South Africa to renew his visa but was then told once he arrived that he could not get a 6 month renewal and was only given a 30 day visa. So we are both in similar situations now. They are planning on taking my visa to immigration this week and I just have to sit tight and wait and pray for favor. And then repeat this process every month until November. 

today in words

The phone on the edge of my desk vibrates and strums the most pleasant among all the other ringtones. 5:30 am. I wonder if I will ever wake up without eyes plastered shut, muscles slow to function, fingers stiff. This city is wide awake, as is the rooster nearby. There is a huge fly buzzing at the window behind my curtains. I crawl out of the netting and pile of sheets and blankets. I pull back the curtains and swat at the fly. He is quiet and dead I presume. I silence the alarm and check messages. One from Kim Brown and one from Catherine telling me the weather is nice and she has been to pick blackberries. She’s at Mom and Dad’s. And one more saying we have home group on the other base tonight night. I shuffle to the tiny electric kettle and turn on all the lights, hoping to wake any creatures who come here in the night. I fill the kettle and the French Press with heaping teaspoons full of the Folger’s Brazilian Roast that Christine sent to me in a care package. I go to the fridge and open the vegetable bin and get out a carrot, a beet and half an apple from yesterday in a ziplock bag.  I dice it all up and throw it in the Nurtibullet. I decide it needs greens and go back for lettuce. I submerge that in bleach water and go back to the kettle and Press and my coffee begins to brew.  I throw ginger in the juicer too and breakfast is made. All joints are moving now and I know my name. I open the computer and put in the mcel stick and wait for it to dial up or whatever it does. I release a grateful sigh. It works! Emails from Flo and Beth and Betty! I make mental notes to write them all back. Not today. Tomorrow maybe when I can use the internet on the other base. Or maybe tonight if the neighbors are still picking up the signal. 7:15 already! 15 minutes to dress and apply makeup. I choose from the clean laundry pile. Not yet put away and ready to wear. Dressing is simple and usually involves some variation of the same outfit most every day. Yesterdays shirt still looks and smells okay. Still bummed about the bleach stain sprinkled on the front of my brand new linen shirt. It comes from bleaching everything in site. Fruit. Vegetables. Dishcloths. Bamboo cutting board. Wooden spoons. Utensils. Sponges.  I pick a skirt from the laundry pile. Black skirt from the Alpharetta Target off Highway 400 that I got on my way to the Brown’s the Friday before I left. I paid regular price. $14.99. Perfect fit and length and fabric for here. I stuff my 75% off Jansport backpack (another Target find) with my English binder, a bottle of water, lip gloss, a pen, a notebook, two sets of keys (house and work), an empty ziplock for the bread roll in the large basket by the gate and sunglasses. 

The walk to work is never dull. I pass an array of garbage and junk. Mostly soda cans and plastic bottles and hair. Synthetic black girl hair. Running in East Point I used to see the same garbage over and over. Newport Cigarette boxes and Funonion wrappers. And a good many chicken bones. Here the constant is synthetic hair and a variety of plastics. Today, the rare find is a Hannah Montana backpack that lookslike it has been ran over by a Semi. With very little discretion, the male urinating fountains are there too. I roll my eyes and sigh deep and look at the ocean instead. She is breathtaking. This morning she is turquoise, by the afternoon she will be dark blue. 

School is there awaiting me and our students hustle in with their little notebooks and sweet English greetings. They make me proud. Help is there in the form of English speaking visitors. I send the girls off with them and the boys and I start where we left off. They are learning tenses- I am. I was. I am going to. I will. I used to. I was going to. We do this over and over and they frantically take notes. We practice out loud. We do a long list of vocabulary and I draw and sketch and my black skirt is covered in chalk dust. They repeat. I say each word. They repeat again. I say again. They repeat. They repeat with every intonation of my own, every accent, every syllable and I hear little Southern accents echo me. I smile. I try to enunciate and sound more like Aunt Phylis and less like Gomer Pyle. And then certain words, long A’s, certain vowels in certain pairs, and my twang becomes theirs. 

Ali arrives with a helmet on her head to take me into town on the back of her motorcycle. I hate motorcycles. My insurance doesn’t cover riding on the back of motorcycles. I get on. I flinch every time she changes gears. We dodge huge potholes. They are really not even potholes and more like massive pieces of missing road. We dodge children and cars and goats. We pull up to the mechanic shop to find it closed. I peer through the cardboard window and see my scooter in 6 pieces. I was promised it would be ready today. She lay there is the same pitiful state she was in over a week ago. Thursday, I am told by Luis who comes out to greet me. I roll my eyes and sigh deep and get back on the bike. Everyone in town stares as two white girls putt through town. 

We have an hour to kill and I am already poised on the back of this bike so I yell for her to keep going. We stop at a local restaurant. Abruptly. The back tire doesn’t make it over the curb and stalls. I laugh out loud. I get off, making sure I clear the exhaust pipe. They have named those burns here Mozambican Tattoos. I had one once. It was bad. I thought for sure it would scar. I was 10. I prayed hard and begged Jesus to please not let me have an ugly scare on my leg for life. I don’t. We eat and talk. Process our day. Goats bleat in the background... 

this week in pictures

One of the main things I wanted to do before I left in March was to get a high res photo to frame for Hartwell Dental Associates. It didn't happen. But we will try again. We have tripled in size since this photo.

The living room. Rope bed. Rug from TJ Maxx. Lamp and Fan from China Shop. Curtains by Target.  Handmade jute curtain ties by Robin. Hand painted pillows from Zimbabwe. Fabric from the fabric store in the strip mall where Skin's Hotdog's is in Anderson. 

Bed skirt post installation.

Pre-Installation

Thank you Aunt Phylis for the colorful bowls and Lynne for the beautiful pottery trio. I use them every day.

Home.

A blank canvas. 

an anniversary

five years ago today i landed at the airport up the street. the Pemba Airport. i rode in the back of a flatbed truck with about 25 other people and our assortment of backpacks and duffle bags. i had a small child in my lap. the son of a family whom i had met in the airport in Tanzania who was also coming to the school. i almost skipped the school entirely when i freaked out in London and almost bought a ticket to Toulouse to avoid having to spend 10 weeks in a foreign land. it was dark when we arrived and the now familiar smell of burning trash hung in the air. not going to Toulouse forever changed me. we passed my current home on the way to the other base that night. in my wildest dreams i never imagined that i would one day be coming here to stay. but i will never forget that ride in the truck and how arriving here was monumental. now when i ride down that road in my scooter, it still takes my breath away a little. so does seeing the Gold Dome in the Atlanta skylight. random things that stir emotion. now when i scoot down the hill i wish i could show it off. you get an expansive view of the city and the sea and i wish i could ride with my dad down the hill and show him my new home. 

something has shifted upon my return, in a good way. i feel more at home than ever before. i spent last weekend nesting and unpacking and putting away my things. Aunt Phylis and i bought fabric in South Carolina and i covered my foam mattress on my rope bed in the living room and made pillows. i plugged my new juicer into the 110v box by my bed with all my other Western electronics. i love making morning blends of matapa (kale), carrot and beet juices with apples or pineapple and ginger. i went to the barraca and got lightbulbs for my made in China lamps and now have soft lighting. i made a bed skirt with crisp white fabric and upholstery nails and a hammer. i braved the chaos of town and bargained with the little boys selling fruit and vegetables in plastic bags and brought home oranges, tomatoes, eggplant and lemons. the scooter is broken once again and i walk in the mornings to school. i love the mornings to walk and think. 

my students are amazing. we have almost 60 now! how i wish you could see them. they have forced me to use what Portuguese i know and we are teaching one another. they all struggle with lives i could never comprehend. i can feel their frustrations and fear. i love it when they come to me but at times i feel so helpless. i cannot allow the desperation consume me. i have to lead them to a higher hope and i have to remain convincing! life here is so different. words cannot describe it.  i have to hold on to my own hope to be able to carry it to them. it is not hard and comes through simple surrender, daily. but it just means that all my independence and do-it-myself attitude has to die, every day until i learn. i will get there. i have come a long way in the last five years and am trying to be patient with myself. i have hit the ground running here and have taken over school courses as Rodrigo got malaria a few days after i got back and is now in South Africa renewing his Visa. we have a small team here for one week who have offered to help me with the afternoon classes. the team consists of a doctor and a nurse who will be teaching basic healthcare. Gena Cauthen sent small business curriculum back with me and i taught from it last week. our kids are coming so faithfully and anxious to get started on something tangible. i still do not quite yet know what these programs are going to look like and how they are going to work. as they evolve, i will let you know. we have many ideas and a few things in the works. i want our students to be prepared when we do start to create businesses and do not want to set them up for failure by giving them something that they cannot yet steward. one of our boys, Baptista, who went with us on the field trip to the farm a few months ago now wants to be a farmer! he spent the day at our farm yesterday to see if he might want to move out there and work full time. i am anxious to hear about his experience. he and his sister, Sophia, come so faithfully and are so bright and beautiful. it is fun to start to see the fruit. 

i am loving living here. i am loving be back. my visit to Georgia was so much fun. i had an absolute blast despite staying really busy. but when the time came, i was ready. i was able to get rejuvenated and i physically feel so much better. the weather has been incredible and will soon be nicer here than in my beloved Hotlanta. i still have an “issue” with my visa. i am praying that that will all work out and i will not have to leave the country. feel free to join with me on that one. 

a really fast update while the pay by the minute internet is working

I could fill these pages with thoughts about just how simply amazing it was to be home. I have never felt such kindness, generosity and Southern hospitality. It was beyond words to get to see my friends and family. I am in awe of all those that pray for me and I now know why I have been able to do what I do. Your prayers sustain me. 

I loved every second of being home. I loved waking up knowing that anything I could possibly want for breakfast was mostly in the pantry downstairs or attainable at the local Ingle’s. I loved having internet. I loved driving Dad’s convertible. I was really disappointed that I was so busy that I didn’t get to see my cousin or spend a lot of time with my friends. But I was blown away by those who all wanted to hear more about the school and my life here. I stayed so busy. I never had not one single day with nothing to do. I found myself ready to come back to Pemba where I could rest. One of the neatest things about going home was making new friends. I am amazed by those who God seems to be handpicking to put into my life. I raised enough money to buy my plane ticket back and was given seed money to start doing some small business loans with our students! 

As I boarded the plane, I was at total peace, knowing that it was simply time to go home. As I previously mentioned, as I filled out my immigration forms in South Africa, I made a horrific discovery. I only have a 30 day visa. The embassy in Washington was horrible at getting me the visa in the first place. I called numerous times and have dubbed them the worst customer service on the planet. I was told that I was being given the visa I requested. When the visa arrived, a month late, I just checked the dates of validity, not reading the fine print that even though it is valid until my departure date of November, it is a 30 day multiple entry visa. This means I have to leave the country every 30 days. This means in less than a month I have to fly to South Africa to get it renewed. Flights to SA are $800. I cannot do this 5 times. I am meeting with immigration on Monday. We don’t have internet so I cannot post this so chances are you will not read this until after this meeting has occurred. I am not really upset, mostly just frustrated and wondering how I could have missed that. How could I not have seen that? How could they make such a mistake? I know I am supposed to be here. I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, but I have to hold on to my peace and know that if this costs me, it costs me and God will provide. He is faithful. 

I immediately got settled into my house and unpacked all the little things I had brought from the States to make my house a home. It’s amazing what a rug will do. I brought a juicer. I am having beet, ginger, apple and carrot juice as I write this. Phylis bought me a magnetized board and I put some of your photos there in my room. I washed my vegetables in a large new bowl from Target. I hung my new shower curtain. It feels better now. The house still has mold and I am congested and sneezing. It is a problem. I am going to tackle cleaning the ceilings tomorrow. Veronica, my cleaning lady will help me, of course. She was ELATED to see me and ran to greet me. That alone was worth the 19 hours of air travel, just to see her face and hear her squeal my name. 

The weather here is perfect. It is not hot and has been so pleasant and mild. I know this can change in an instant but I played outside with Nathalia and Bia tonight in the front yard and never would have dreamed of playing out there in the past 6 months. You would have died of a heat stroke. 

I am all moved back in and even got to swim in the sea. A group went on Saturday. I live in such a beautiful place. I live at the beach! That thought never ceases to make me grin. 

I got to see a lot of the kids, our Iris kids and some of my students at church this morning. It feels like family. I am honored to be a part of it and just excited to see what God does, with them and with me along this little journey. It looks like I may be doing private English lessons a few times a week. I am also excited to see what can come of our small business loans. I know there are mixed reviews on the effectiveness of micro loans but I think in a setting where there is education and accountability, we can really have some success stories. 

I feel that I am back where I belong. Hartwell and Atlanta were so much fun. I loved hot water, big beds, refrigerators full of food, shopping, driving in one lane, with lines and no potholes on a paved road, electricity, no frogs in the house. But other than the constant flow of friends to see and visit, there really is nothing there for me and this is where I belong. 

I am praying for major favor during tomorrow’s visit to the immigration office. I have been told there is little they can do. I will be relieved to just know one way or the other and make my plans accordingly. 

communication

I hope to be able to communicate a little better this time around, not only in coming here to write but in hearing from you! If you have a smartphone or an iPad you can download the FREE app, heytell (icon seen here) and communicate with me. You can find me if you sign in via Facebook. Another smartphone app, WhatsApp Messenger or whatsapp, allows us to text and send photos and videos to each other for free! Although the app itself is .99cents. I will set this up within the next few days and keep you posted. And as always you can email me at jgracedavis@gmail.com. I look forward to hearing your voices and being able to show you Moz. 

that was fast

I am back in the very spot where I last wrote about coming home, in Johannesburg. I was so Christmas morning ecstatic to be coming home. It was all I ever hoped for and so much more. I wished I had journaled about it all but I didn't even keep a calendar. But I basically had something to do every single day and stayed really busy. I didn't get to see or talk to half the people I wanted to. I never anticipated being so busy and having so many dinners and engagements. I made new friends and got to connect with old ones. I got to speak to a few new places and got to report back to those who have been with me from the beginning. It all went by way too fast. But it is time for me to be back in Mozambique where I belong.

Yesterday Mom drove me as far as Howell Mill where we went to one of my favorite brunch spots, West Egg Cafe. Then we shopped in all the pretty design shops. I smelled candles and lusted after Brahms Mount blankets. We went in anthropologie and I bought a handbag and drawer pulls. Mother bought out Ballard's. The entire time I was keenly aware of the contrast I was about to enter.

Then I drove myself to the Gold Dome and Betty drove me to the airport. Apparently they opened a new international terminal yesterday, just for me. I had two oversized bags and Shane at the Delta counter, although was not able to send my bags all the way to Pemba, didn't charge me for the extra weight. I zipped through security and was disappointed to only see a few small shops, and a few fast food restaurants on the upstairs level. But it was all squeaky clean and not busy at all.

I am notorious for seeing people I know and this time I saw Shelia Lavalle. And later, boarded my flight along with Marilyn Hickey. Remember her?

I took melatonin and slept like a baby. I watched a whole bunch of movies and just when I thought I would scream if I didn't get off that plane, we were landing. As I opened my Passport to go through customs I noticed my Visa said "Multiple Entry" which made me read further of the fine print. I had called about this Visa numerous times. Each time I was either put on hold, given voice mail, told to email or that they would call me back. The times I did get a live person, they were no help. I got a live person the last time I called and was told my passport was on the way and that I was granted the 180 day Visa. When it arrived I simply looked at the date of expiration, November 12th, 2012. I didn't see what I saw so apparently today, 30 DAY VISA!

So now I am headed to Pemba for 180 days on a 30 day Visa. I am praying and I do feel peace. It will work out. It may mean I get to go to Kenya or Malawi or maybe even Zimbabwe. I specifically came home when I did because I wanted to come home each time and reapply for the 180 day Visa to "save money". This will cost. So I am giving this one up to God and His plans and His keen ability to turn it all around to make it look like He meant for it to happen all along.

I am leaving for Pemba in the morning. I am excited to be going home!! I made so many new connections back in Georgia that I am also already anticipating our times together. Kinda like that quote, "Wherever you go, there you are!". Tomorrow I will be in Pemba where I belong.

Dad's Birthday

home sweet home

Georgia, I'm coming home!

my life is about to drastically change. as much as i love my life in pemba and the work that i do, the thoughts of coming home have been dancing in my head for weeks. but as i woke up friday morning and went to my last day of class, and scooted for my last day right past the Indian Ocean, and hugged my friends necks and said goodbye to the kids, i wondered how i could ever leave all of this. i am happy to see all of you and eat desserts and raw vegetables (in that order) but the jolt from the little world i have been living in back into the only one i have ever known is a bit shocking. i am excited to see my parents faces at the airport, dad's sweet brown head so easy to spot. mom's silver gray, that i have apparently inherited, also easy to find. i am excited to reunite with friends and family i have missed so bad that it hurts. but it is all temporary. six weeks temporary. i left the school in good hands with Rodrigo and i pray the rats and mold don't take over my wardrobe.
i am in johannesburg now. i left pemba yesterday afternoon. the flight is fairly uneventful. you stop in maputo and everyone gets off. i went in the duty free as i always do and sniffed perfumes, picked one and doused myself. i know i smell. it is a mixture of body odor, sweat, dirt, Omo, and the faint smell of smoke from burning rubbish. so i covered all that up with Chanel. i am staying with friends of Iris here in joburg until i leave later this afternoon. we went to the grocery store last night for me to pick out something to eat. it was like a dream. all this colorful, fresh, flavorful, clean food! peppers and salads and cheeses and breads and big bins of every fruit and vegetable you could ever dream of. a grocery store. a normal, real grocery store. with more than two aisles and they turn on the lights! and they had prices on the items and they were cheap! i went first for a ready made salad but it was made with iceberg blah. so i put it back and ran to the bags of spinach as if i were on a game show. i grabbed that and then made a mad dash for the cheese, grabbed a roll of goat cheese without even looking at the price just making sure it was plain. the flavored kinds can be good but i didn't want to chance it. then i went on the hunt for tomatoes and found small Roma tomatoes, so acidic and amazing they burned my tongue (no, i didn't try them there, i waiting until we got home). i also got a clear plastic parfait cup of yogurt with fruit on top. i really wanted plain Greek but for some reason i thought we might be in a hurry and i didn't want to make them wait.  plus i could have bought the place out. i didn't even go down the dessert aisles. i made one last look over my shoulder for raspberries but didn't see any. so those are on my list for when i get home. greek yogurt with fresh berries. so yes, i am excited to be coming home. it seems surreal. i asked carla what was going on and to give me the news from home and she replied with something along the lines of, "nothing, just waiting on you to get here so the fun can begin. it is just not the same.". i feel the same way. even though we never talk and we live so impossibly far apart, i feel like every day is kinda Groundhog Day until i see her. my news and my excitement and my milestones and my laughter involve her. yes, i have lived a very full active 6 months, but it also feels like i have lived in a time warp, back in 1950, in Africa, as someone else. it is so hard to explain but that is the best i can do.
this little respite in joburg is perfect. i got a hot shower, had Rusks and Rooibos tea for breakfast and the rest of my yogurt and am waiting on noon to come so that i can eat some more of those tomatoes and spinach. i will leave here around 4. i like the joburg airport. i like the Woolworth's and that pharmacy at the end of the food court. i can get berries and fruit there. i love this about South Africa, they have great grocery stores and even their gas stations have salads and fresh fruit cups. nothing like the sweaty hot dogs you find at the QT. the Woolworth's counter has yummy sandwiches with watercress and sprouts and the like. after perusing all of that i will promptly show up to the Delta counter in plenty of time and follow my fellow passengers to our aircraft and 17.5 hour flight to today's greatest city in the world- the ATL. i've missed her. if you are there, please don't take her for granted. if you live near there, go explore her! or go to Cloudland Canyon or Saint Simons or Serenbe or go eat peach ice cream at Lane Packing Co. or better yet, the flavor of the day at Mayfield Dairy. go have lunch at 211 main every chance you get. go to the Tiger Drive In if it is still open. go to Piedmont Park and take a frisbee. go to at least one concert at Chastain. go have tea at Dr. Bombay's. sweet potato cakes at Ria's. go to Ballard's Backroom. picnic on Cumberland. and then there's always Target.
so i will be arriving at 6:30 in the morning on Sunday and looking forward to driving cars with stereos and power windows and paved roads and seeing all of you!

field trip

class

sunday morning

the power was off all last night. it is not so hot right now so i barely noticed until i realized that i had slept until 8am. i have not slept that late in months. because the power is off the baracca’s cannot blare their music and for the first time in months, was not awakened by michael jackson. at the moment i am having my morning coffee. the fan is blowing. the power came on about 8:30 and i quickly rushed into the kitchen to put the electric kettle on. i cannot find my lighter and i am out of matches, after lighting candles when the power was out last night. so i knew that i could not put the kettle on the stove. the power came on just in time. i keep forgetting to buy matches. they never make the obvious shopping list. no clue where that lighter might be. need to find another one.

i have had some sort of sinus infection for weeks. i am on antibiotics now. i am starting to feel normal.

this week has been amazing in school. rodrigo is the success i knew he would be. the boys love him. the girls too. we have about 75% boys. many of them stay after class to talk to rodrigo and they will all sit and listen as long as we will talk. we are hoping that in this next two weeks we can get some photos and video footage for you. i am going to ask henrique if i can go home with him one day this week. i would love for you to meet his family. i have told you about him before. his father died christmas day. we are still waiting to hear about a huge potential business opportunity but making our plan B. i am going to go into town this week and buy our students “uniforms”. we will be setting them up with shadowing opportunities and they need something to show they are in our program and set them apart. i will be giving an english test this week too. i am trying to establish a system for teaching english to our kids. because we have a good many english speaking volunteers here at any given time, i want to get them involved. i want to create a checklist of sorts on each child. each student has a folder and in that folder i want to put a checklist of what they know and what areas the teacher can introduce to the student. i would then like to provide a variety of resources so that anyone can come in and have the tools that they need to teach any one of our students. that would just include instructions, example sentences, vocabulary and game ideas. i know it can be done. when i am home, i will be looking for more resources. we have a friend of Iris coming while i am gone to teach Character Development for two weeks. i think the timing is perfect and it is a vital part of our curriculum. i only regret not being here to learn from her. 

i went to the beach yesterday. i do not go often enough. it has maybe been a month. i have no idea how i could let that much time pass by. the beaches here are breathtaking. we went about 10am and i packed a straw bag of capalanas and a book and camera and those ugly Target water shoes. we perched on plastic lawn chairs. there used to be 8 there but now there are only 3. i am fairly certain i just stared at the water for at least an hour. i had to just sit and take in the view and didn’t want to be distracted by a Novel. i absorbed and soaked and watched. the water is at least 10 different shades of turquoise blue. the little wooden boats don’t seem real. there are women gathering small fish and snails and mollusks, men with large nets. they are working and i have a two month old edition Vogue magazine in my lap. i admire a Marc Jacobs handbag and i look back up at the women with the baskets on their heads. i am a stranger here. the bottle of pink nail polish on my toes costs more than she made this week. if she even has a job. just an observation and the thought that enters my head. and of course i would never pay full price for nail polish. i got it 75% off when i was with Laura at that hair salon in the mall in Kansas. i saw them in the window. Essie Polish 75% off. 

so now i am getting ready for church and by getting ready i mean writing this and thinking about which of my three skirts below the knee i want to wear to church and reminding myself to pack water and wondering how big the mud puddles are going to be after last nights thunderstorm.  

minha quarta