Advertisement
war wounds
actually, this was BEFORE climbing mt. kilimanjaro. This is from when i decided to play soccer on the side of the road, without shoesI thought about issuing a public apology to begin this blog because of long it has been since I last posted an entry, but then I realized that it is probably unnecessary being that my blog readership can be more accurately described as a couple of dedicated family members and close friends that humor me, rather than a throng of rabid and demanding followers. However, I think it’s safe to say that between weekly phone calls with my parents and brother, and bi-monthly calls from my former girlfriend that I have directly validated my five month absence from Travelblog to ALL my dedicated readers. You don’t see the New York Times calling all of its former girlfriends and family members every time an issue goes missing. When you are part of the throngs, you just don’t get the same kind of personal touch and attention that comes from being part of an estimated reader base of between three and nine people.
For this entry of my blog, I’ll just run down a few of the more notable events that have occurred in my life over the past five months. Instead of doing a straight-forward recapping of the events, I thought
closer
really study it to see the puss and unattached skin I might put it into the same type of storytelling format that has been used in a recently released, award winning movie. To avoid wild copyright infringement accusations, I will not ever say exactly what movie I am modeling this entry after, but I think that the structure will be familiar.
Pretend that I am a contestant on the Mozambican version of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.
- First question, for 300 Mozambican metacais ($12)….
What country is home to Mt. Kilimanjaro, the largest peak in Africa?
A) Zambia B) Tanzania
C) Kenya D) Zimbabwe
In December I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. Well, most of it. With five other Peace Corps Volunteers, I traveled from Mozambique to Moshi (town at the base of the mountain), and along the way I met many wonderful and “interesting” people, cut my feet open while playing soccer barefoot on the side of a road, saw beautiful African landscape, was robbed, searched by police, crossed national borders, learned words from different languages, bought seasonal fruit and nuts at bus stops and almost got in a fight. It was a full first 48 hours of traveling. After arriving at the mountain a few
what a friend
performing surgery at a hostel in Malawi days later, the real journey began. Having lived my whole life in altitude challenged Michigan, I was a bit worried about how I would react to a 5,900 meter climb, and a day into our 4 ½ day summit, I was already experiencing a headache and was having trouble sleeping. By the late afternoon of day 4, our group had made it to the final camp, where we rested until midnight, at which point we began trekking to the summit. Only 45 minutes into that last climb I was feeling pretty crappy, with a throbbing headache and a thirst that would not relinquish no matter how much water I drank. I began having trouble walking in straight lines, so one of our guides took to walking behind me with his hands on my hips to steady me, while I sheepishly took to hiking poles he offered me in order to have something to lean on to keep from falling. About three hours after setting out, I started stumbling and falling every 15 minutes or so, despite the hiking poles and the attention from one of our guides. After taking an especially ungraceful fall that took me three attempts to successful
there she is
our first glimpse stand up from, I asked the guide how much longer to the top. “Only about an hour”, he says. Ok, I figure if I put together every fiber of will and strength that I have, I might be able to make it. I start walking again, figuring that I will make it to the top, staggering, crawling, then I will be carried down the mountain to the nearest medical station where I will be treated for damage I have done to my body, and I will be hailed for my courage, strength, and determination. With this vision, I proceed. However, things get exponentially worse: I am falling every couple minutes, I start crying three times without reason or provocation, I can’t hang on to bottles of water long enough to drink. I ask one of our guides how much longer to the top, and he says “only about an hour and a half”. I decide that if that was the effort it took to go 30 minutes backward, I probably don’t have what it takes to go an hour and a half forward. Two guides, one on either side of me with my arm wrapped around their shoulders drag me
another angle
still off in the distance down the mountain as the sun begins to rise. My head is rolling around my shoulders with my neck as the pivot point, my eyes are closed, and my feet are kicking up dirt and stones as they drag helplessly along the ground. I am a defeated version of the youthful, energetic, athletic (if I do say so myself), confident, read-to-conquer-the tallest-mountain-in Africa person I was when I arrived at Kilimanjaro. By the time we reach base camp, however, I am walking without the help of any guide, and only one hiking pole. All I have to show for my brush with death is a headache, sore feet, bags under my eyes from lack of sleep, and a newfound sense of humility.
This is Peace Corps. Sore feet and headache included.
After returning to Moshi, I head back to Mozambique, alone, as my travel partners stay to celebrate Christmas together. I celebrate Christmas the same way I would celebrate December 26 and 27; on a bus, leaving Tanzania and heading towards the Malawi/Mozambique border. I couldn’t stand to stay and listen to them as they had already begun practicing and refining the story that they would one day
the entrance
this is where the journey began tell their children and grandchildren.
But don’t feel too bad for me. On the way back, I met a beautiful Indian woman who one night was standing out in the pouring rain with no shelter to escape. I called to her to join me under an overhang. She thanked me. Sadly, the next day when our bus left, she was not on it. As she saw us leaving, she ran alongside the bus and reached out her hand to another passenger. Their hands appeared to touch, but the grip was not strong enough. We left her behind. I was heartbroken, but I had a feeling I would see her again.
B, Tanzania, final answer.
- For 1200 Mozambican metacais ($48)…..
How long can a human stool sample sit untouched before it can no longer be accurately analyzed for parasites?
A) 0-6 hours B) 7-14 hours
C) 15-36 hours D) It never becomes invalid
At the beginning of January, all the Peace Corps Volunteers who arrived in Mozambique with me in September, 2007, came to Maputo for four days of meetings commonly referred to as “Mid-Service”. Mid-service is meant to be a training and refresher in
our crew
this is probably what sir edmund hilary's crew looked like right before he summited mt. everest education and health techniques for volunteers, as well as an opportunity for the Peace Corps health team to monitor how much our health has deteriorated after spending 15 months in Mozambique. More important than these, however, is that mid-service is the first time in more than a year that all of us volunteers who came to Mozambique together will be in the same place at the same time. It is like, totally the social event of your Peace Corps service! Everyone who is anyone is there!
Actually, you notice that even with all the anticipation of seeing old friends and trading war stories with volunteer from different regions, you end up spending the majority of your time with people who live within two hours of your site. It’s kind of weird, but you just feel a bit of a disconnect between other volunteers that you haven’t been seeing throughout the last year. I think that since Peace Corps is such a difficult time, you lean on friends a bit heavier here than you would in your normal life. You also seek to find routine and stability so much here, that hanging out with other Americans who have different habits,
and that...
is what sir edmund hilary probably looked like different senses of humor, and different ideas of how to have fun is not always appealing. It’s funny, you come here to make friends with people from unbelievably different cultures and circumstances, and then you get turned off by spending an evening with some Americans that you haven’t seen in a year.
Anyway, we had to make three stool samples during our time at mid-service to be analyzed by the medical team. The drill was to make the sample whenever you were ready, then bring the cup (with lid) to a drop off box that was to be picked up at the end of each day by a member of the med team, at which point it would be analyzed for all sorts of exciting things. Unfortunately, the med team must have forgotten to draw straws to see who would be the lucky one to transport the shit of 60 Peace Corps Volunteers between our hotel and the med office, because the box sat there untouched for two days, rendering our shit useless (who knew that human waste had a “best before” date). What this meant, was that the majority of us had to produce additional stool samples, and
coming in...
to the camp at the end of day 1 the hotel was unhappy about the stinky corner in our meeting room. Win-win.
My final answer is C, 15-36 hours.
Continuing on for 10,000 Mozambican metacais ($400)…..
How much does a medium can of Nestle Quick Hot Chocolate Mix cost in Quelimane?
A) 20-45 Mt B) 46-75 Mt
C) 76-100 Mt D) That product does not exist in Quelimane, Mozambique
For two weeks at the end of January, I house-sat for my Canadian missionary neighbors while they were out of the country. The wall of their compound is literally in my backyard, about 30 feet away from my house, so although I didn’t have to go far to complete this mission, it did feel like I was in a different world. Their house is nothing extravagant, but it does have everything a typical house in America might have: showers, sinks, television, internet, a fridge, air conditioning, couches, an oven etc. Even though I continued going to work throughout those two weeks, it was amazing how much more cut off from the community I felt just by being behind that compound wall. When I walk out the door of my house, it is not uncommon to find
taking our first break
i didnt need it, but my crew members were already tired five little horrible children sitting on my front porch, playing and making a racquet. When I need water, I need to leave my house to go to the well, passing neighbors on the way, talking with them as we wait in line to get our water. When I am inside my house, I always keep the door open so that neighbors walking by will not think I am unfriendly, since all of their doors are always open. This is not meant to be an indictment of the way many ex-pats live in Africa, or the way we live in America; it was just very apparent to me that I was interacting with my community on a much more limited basis than I was when I was living in my house.
Not that I didn’t enjoy staying there. It was great and very relaxing. They also had some Nestle Quick Hot Chocolate Mix in their pantry that I began eating by the spoonful. I couldn’t help it; it was there and it kept staring at me, begging me to eat it. It’s not appealing to drink hot chocolate in the Mozambican summer, nor did I want to make chocolate milk
Camp 1
me and my surgeon because that would involve milk, which could have become very expensive, so I just ate it by the spoonful instead. Of course, I had to buy a new can to replace the one I ate, and at the only store in Quelimane that carries it, I paid 85mt.
Another noteworthy event during those two weeks was that I ran across that beautiful young Indian woman again that I had met in Tanzania but had left behind in the bus. I was walking past the local discotheque and I saw her dancing inside with some man. I ran in, grabbed, and threw a tomato at the man she was dancing with, rendering him incapacitated and unable to chase me. We checked into a hotel to savor our reuniting, but then I left because I remembered I had to house-sit for my neighbors. When I came back the next day to check on her, she was gone; the hotel manager said the guy who I threw a tomato at came back and got her. I felt that it was not over.
76-100mt, C, final answer.
For 75,000 Mozambican metacais ($3000)….
In what Olympic sport did national legend, Lurdes
Mutola, make Mozambican history by winning the country’s first gold medal?
A) Track and Field B) Gymnastics
C) Swimming D) One person luge
As you may remember from some of my previous entries (from previous years), I have been lucky enough to play an important organizational role in a project here in Mozambique called JOMA (JOvens para Mudança e Acção -or- Young People for Change and Action). The project trains groups of young people from all over the country in one area of our communications areas (theater, art, journalism, photography, or music) in order to be able to transmit ideas and messages to their communities, about healthy behavior choices, or examining your culture, or healthy masculinity, or healthy gender roles. At the beginning of March, we staged a TOT (training-of-trainers) for all our trainers throughout the country, to prepare them for the JOMA conferences in April. What was special to me about the TOT and the week preceding it was all the work that I did that simply would have been beyond impossible for me as recently as one year earlier. In a city that I didn’t know very well, I was able to visit almost all the relevant
our snack
i was eating better going up kilimanjaro than i do in my house in mozambique government departments to our project, and do presentations for their provincial directors in Portuguese, and then invite them to our conference in April. I dealt with trainers that were inevitably less than thrilled about the per diem and food they were receiving for the two days of TOT by negotiating with them, calming them down, all in Portuguese! In English, in the United States, I have never done anything close to that; organizing a two day training, meeting with government representatives, controlling professionals in their respective fields.
This is Peace Corps. Empowerment and realization of potential included.
There were a couple bumps in the road. One presentation I gave was to the provincial director of the education department, which is an important partnership for our project. He was very friendly and was very willing to hear my presentation. However, within two minutes of starting, with just the two of us in the room sitting at a small circular table, he began falling asleep. I didn’t know what to do, if I should wake him up, finish up the presentation early, or just plow ahead like I didn’t notice. I continued on, and I would guess that for nearly
where we slept
at the end of day 1 75% of the 15 minute presentation, he was in dreamland. So at the end, he wakes up just in time to see my last slide, asks me one or two questions about the project, then asks if I would mind changing the subject. I said sure. So he asks the question I knew that he was going to ask from the moment I walked in the room:
“So what do you think about Barack Obama?”
During the week, I also began making phone calls to see if I could manage to persuade a special guest to attend one of our conferences as a motivational speaker. I got the number to the association of Mozambique’s most famous athlete, Lurdes Mutola, who has been one of the top half-mile runners in the world for the last 20 years. I shouldn’t even mention this because her manager ended up denying the invitation, three days before our conference, but I needed something to make up a Mozambican Millionaire question.
A…A is my final answer.
On to big money now. For 500,000 Mozambican metacais ($20,000)….
In Madagascar, what animal will you find on the 1000 ariary bill?
A) Lion B)
im sleepy
but only because i spent so much energy inspiring my fat, out of shape crew mates Elephant
C) Bird D) Lemur
As most of you may have heard, Madagascar has been having some problems recently. The Peace Corps powers that be have decided that the situation there is volatile enough to temporarily discontinue the Peace Corps program, until things become stable. Volunteers were evacuated from the country and given a variety of options of eventually continuing, or immediately closing their service as Peace Corps Volunteers. One of my friends chose the latter, and before going home he came to visit me. We had a wonderful time, especially the part where an out-of-uniform cop on the street asked to see our passports, I declined, and then he hit me in the face and pulled a handgun on me, my friend, and another Peace Corps Madagascar refugee that came with him. Surprise mom! I figured you wouldn’t be so worried because more than a month has passed since this incident. We can talk about it more on Sunday, if you wish.
Still no sign of my Indian love.
As a Malagasy souvenir, my friend left me with 1000 and 200 ariary bills. That is how I know…
The answer is Lemur, D, final answer.
the path...
to start our day 2 journey Now Jimmy, if you get this right, you will be rich beyond your wildest imagination. But remember, if you get this wrong, you lose EVERYTHING. With that in mind, here is your final question, for a staggering, 1,000,000 Mozambican metacais ($40,000)……
In Alexander Dumas’ book, “The Three Musketeers”, two of the musketeers are called Athos and Porthos. What was the name of the third Musketeer?
A) Aramis B) Cardinal Richelieu
C) D'Artagnan D) Planchet
So final April comes around, the month of our three regional JOMA conferences (North, Central, South), the month that I and the other JOMA coordinators have been working towards since January. I went down to the Southern conference to help out, and during the 22 hour bus ride to get down there I actually developed an open wound on my forehead from trying to lean on the seatback in front of me to sleep. I arrived at a Peace Corps Volunteers house at 2 a.m., and woke up later that morning with a scab in the middle of my forehead.
So I got to the conference about five days ahead of time, the conference lasted a week, and then I stayed a few
our view....
of the mountain during our day 2 trek days afterward to tie up some loose ends. There two weeks were an absolute whirlwind; I think the most sleep I ever got in one night was 5 ½ hours, and I am sure that I worked harder during those two weeks than any other two week period in my life. A total of around 80 participants came to just our southern conference as well as our professional trainers in our communications areas (art, theater, etc.). I was down there essentially to act as the face as the conference, which was supposed to be limited to keeping tabs on our trainers, showing around any government representative visitors, interfacing with any media outlets, and MC-íng our opening and closing ceremonies, however, as it became necessary, I also became very involved in the logistics of the conference, things like renting cars, finding hotels to host participants at the last minute after our reserved hotel informed us that they dropped our reservation, locating an enormous tent for our opening and closing ceremonies, finding presenters for some of our sessions, etc. Really this is all just setting me up to spend the next paragraph talking about how great I am.
I kicked butt,
I really did. I am running back in forth, between our conference venue and the capital city, meeting with government bigwigs, keeping trainers happy (actually maybe the most time consuming job), haggling for equipment prices, making the speeches at our opening and closing ceremonies, writing up monitoring and evaluation surveys for the conference, blah, blah, blah, all in frickin Portuguese! In Mozambique! In Africa! Three years ago I could never have thought of this in my most wildest of my already wild imagination. During our opening ceremony, I gave a 10 minute improvised speech, introduced the next speaker, ran to the back of the room to do a short interview with a television and radio outlet because they were going to leave, and ran back up to the front of the room in time to wrap of the ceremony. I convinced the radio crew to cover the conferences even though they were originally seeking a bribe from me that I didn’t give them.
I don’t think the primary goal of this section is to talk about how great I am (although it’s a nice bonus), but to hammer home this Peace Corps theme of REDEMPTION. I feel like ghost
more...
prettiness dad here sometimes, like I shouldn’t even be here. I suffered more in 2008 than ever before in my life as a privileged upper middle class white America; I cried more during January and March than in the previous eight years of my life; I was more demoralized than I’ve ever been; I shouldn’t even be here! Sometimes when I walk around here, I feel like I think someone must feel who has been in a horrible car accident but survives, and then leaves the hospital and is looking at everything like, “I never thought I’d see this house again”, or, “I never thought I’d be able to touch my family again”, etc. I always think stuff like that when I am traveling through Mozambique, that it is amazing that I am even here anymore and that I didn’t go back to the US last year when I hit rock-bottom. That’s why accomplishing all that stuff was so amazing to me, because I feel like I came back from the dead almost, and have stuck around for more than a year, and only because of that have I been able to see and do some of these amazing things. My
arriving...
at our day 2 camp site dad has told me that redemption is one of life’s most powerful themes, and I feel like for the first time, I am experiencing it, instead of reading about it. Makes me want to cry.
So in one of the days following the conference when I finally had some downtime, I watched this very interesting movie “Slumdog Millionaire”. I learned some new things about India, the Taj Mahal, and the book, “The Three Musketeers”.
Also, my beautiful lost love Indian heard my interviews on the radio, and she came to me. She told me some crazy story about having a drug dealer boyfriend who my brother was working for, I don’t know. It all seemed a little far-fetched. Anyway, it was actually quite romantic, I saw her standing at the local bus station, and so I ran to her and kissed on in front of everyone. Then afterwards, we, along with everyone else at the bus station, started dancing. It was unexpected, but very nice indeed.
My final answer is A, Aramis. Just because.
So that is my life for the past five months. Imagine how long this blog entry would have been if it were
more camp site photos
many groups go up at the same time, all with different guides through different climbing companies any longer than that! Kudos to anyone that has made it this far, or maybe I’ll just thank the three or four of you on the phone this Sunday, or the next time you give me one of your twice-monthly phone calls.
The End.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.072s; Tpl: 0.028s; cc: 7; qc: 24; dbt: 0.0401s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Stacey
non-member comment
the internet is one crazy thing
Jimmy, I enjoyed reading your blog and it is a crazy story of how I found it. I too am from Michigan, but now live in Colorado. I teach 4th grade and we study World Mountains. You are probably thinking that is how I found your blog but it is not. It is why I read your blog. I even showed some of the pictures to my students in class. I was really doing an image search for "wounds" (long story) and got sucked into your story. Thanks. Good luck with everything. -Stacey