Past and Present Together here in Moz

When you think of Africa in general, what’s the first thing that pops into your head?

Notice that I said Africa and not Mozambique or any other country that lives on this continent. Because we as Americans generalize Africa in a way that we don’t for other regions of the world. And whether you admit it or not, if someone were to say “I’m taking a trip to Africa”, you would likely have a knee-jerk response…maybe something like this:

“Take a picture of an elephant!”

“Is it safe there?…I heard it’s not safe there.”

“What are you going to eat?”

“Do they speak English?”

“Will you see any white people?”

“It’s going to be sooo hot! Will there be A/C?”

But likely the majority of the American population wouldn’t ask “where in Africa?” because to most of us, Africa is one giant country, and all of its residents share the same beliefs, religion, values system, and culture. Why else would we generalize “Africa” that way that we do? 

Then, when you think about it a little harder and realize that there are 54 countries in Africa, the generalizations can perhaps lessen, making room for the exploration of different cultures. 

Since living in Mozambique, I have learned a lot about the culture here, and that Mozambican culture is different from not only American culture (which is to be expected), but also very different from its neighbors such as Swaziland, South Africa, Malawi, Zimbabwe and Zambia. 

The image that Cady from Mean Girls shows us about what it was like “living in Africa” is NOT the way it actually is. 

So, naturally because I’m quite spunky, I found myself getting irritated when people asked me questions such as, “do they wear actual clothes?” and “do they do African dances”?  It’s like, no, the African Jungle Warriors that you see in the movies are NOT my neighbors. My neighbors in fact wear jeans and button-down shirts, cardigans and Converses. They really like to listen to Chris Brown and Britney Spears. They bump and grind and sometimes I feel awkward when I see my students do it. Gabriel, my 11th grader who is really good at English, likes to break dance. People walk around with smart(ish) phones and ear buds and sing out loud to American songs. There are computers and call phones and tablets. And I do believe that Mozambique is doing a pretty darn good job of “staying in the know” about fashion, technology and art, even though there is a lot of work to be done before it is considered ‘developed’. I felt as though part of my job as a volunteer was to share with Americans this type of information. 

Even though Mozambique is a developing country, some things about people are true no matter where you are. They want to look good. They want to express themselves. They want to do better than just survive. Of course, that looks different here in Moz than it does in the States, but our goals as human beings are the same. My community is not made up of barbarians who find and kill lions with their bare hands to feed their families. 

And really, I don’t think my defensiveness about all this is a bad thing. The general population has some growing to do in terms of understanding the culture and ways of life that countries in Africa practice. But then, this past week I gained a different perspective that further opened my mind about Mozambican culture.

Last Thursday, we had Dia da Escola, which was our school’s giant birthday party. In the morning we drank tea and then played soccer. For lunch, groups of students prepared traditional Mozambican dishes to sell. After lunch, the cultural performances started. There was singing and dancing of all different types. Professors dressed in the same capulana to sing the national anthem. A group of students went back to their roots with spears and arrows and painted faces, and presented themselves proudly. There were theater performances, slow, sexy dancing, pretty awesome break dancing, Mozambique’s version of “pop dance” (think Usher), dramatic poetry reading and rope skipping. I could tell the students worked really hard to prepare their pieces, and they were really proud to perform in front of professors and peers. It was a really wonderful blend of remembering pre-colonialism Mozambican culture, current South Africa-inspired culture, and American Pop Culture. 

Students selling traditional Mozambican dishes for lunch

Teachers in matching capulana singing the national anthem. The dude is the school director.

Students performing a hip-hop dance routine with chairs as props.

Students performing pop dance together.

A student being cheeky during a dance performance.

A student proudly presenting his roots.

My best Mozambican friend, Mana Marta, singing and dancing for all the students. (She has an album out!)

So then, when the “Back to our Roots” act started to present, I couldn’t help but realize that students and teachers were proudly presenting this aspect of their history, but that for some reason I feel like it’s my job to convince Americans that “that’s not what Africa is like”. How can it be true at the same time that Mozambique tries to adapt American culture (they want to go to America, they want to listen to American music and wear American clothing brands and watch American actors on TV), while also hanging onto the beautiful, early traditions of Mozambicans from years and years and years ago? So I started thinking, and realized it’s not that weird.

By the time Portugal arrived in Mozambique for the first time in 1498, Bantu-speaking tribes had already been living on the land that is now considered Mozambique for 12 centuries…TWELVE HUNDRED YEARS. That is a LOT of time to make traditions and pass them onto multiple generations. Portugal began aggressively setting up shop in Mozambique during the 15th century, and by the 18th century, Mozambique becomes a major slave-trade center. The slave trade is banned in the early part of the 19th century, but Portuguese companies continue to use Mozambicans for free or cheap labor for many years after (which, let’s be honest…still sounds a lot like slavery to me). In 1932 Portugal officially declares that they have direct rule of Mozambique as a colony of Portugal and for the next 32 years, Portugal [continues] to run the show. 

So, for roughly 5 centuries, Portugal essentially tried to silence the culture of Bantu tribes to make room for a thriving economy and the zillions of Portuguese settlers that came with it. In 1964, a war for Independence starts, which lasts for 9 years, 11 months and 2 weeks. That is a really freaking long time to be fighting to win back your own land (and rights, and culture and freedom). Eventually they did it and in 1974, 250,000 Portuguese settlers left Mozambique, and Moz became an independent country. 

If this brief history of Moz was too long, and you didn’t read it, I’ll sum it up with this: The Portuguese moved in and for about 500 years stomped out much of the culture that had incubated in Mozambique to make room for Portuguese culture, economy and success. And after a very long time, Mozambicans decided to fight back and eventually won. Colonists tried to take away the traditions, values, belief systems, and ways of expression that at one time guided the lives of many Bantu-speaking tribes. But in 1974, the Mozambicans won and once again regained the freedom to express themselves in a way that represents their history, their grandparents, and their grandparents’ grandparents. 

So, today, even though teenagers and adults alike think its totally cool to listen to American music and wear business casual clothes to work, and be able to converse in English, they also take great pride in where they came from and who Mozambique is culturally. I cannot go to a party without seeing women wearing capulanas and head wraps, without eating traditional Mozambican dishes, or without hearing beautiful music sung in the local (Bantu) language. 

Last week, at Dia da Escola, I learned that just like Mozambicans, it’s important that I not only share the modern side of Mozambican Culture with my friends and family in the States, but the traditional side as well. Yes, Africa isn’t all loin cloths and bows and arrows, but there is some really rich history here that shouldn’t be forgotten. 

Girls Will Be Girls

I just returned from a weekend away at a REDES workshop. REDES stands for Raparigas em Desenvolvimento de Educação e Saúde (girls in health and education development). It is a program for girls to learn about puberty; how to avoid pregnancy; why it’s important to stay in school; women’s rights; goal-setting; healthy friendships and romantic relationships; and avoiding HIV/STDs. These are topics that, for the most part, are built into the public education system in the United States: 7th grade health teaches us all about the birds and the bees; we learn how babies are made and how to avoid having one during the teenage years; dropping out of school is a non-option for most kids and college is a natural post-high school step as well. And, lucky for American students (specifically girls), it is not taboo to discuss bodies, sexual intercourse, or relationships at home—on the contrary, it’s expected. 

My mother was the person who explained to me what a blow job was, and why it was inappropriate for a 7th grader to be doing that. My mother was the person who told me what a boner was and how boys my age (6th grade) sometimes can’t help when it happens. “Periods are a pain for girls and boners are a pain for boys and sorry honey but it’s all just part of growing up”. When strange things happened with my body I could ask her without feeling embarrassed, and had full faith that she would relieve my worry and help me figure it all out. And she did.

Here in Mozambique, though, things are a bit different. Families don’t talk about that important stuff. Girls don’t learn what puberty is from the school curriculum or from their families, so when their bodies start changing, they become worried and confused but don’t have anyone to talk to about it. They just have to figure it out on their own. I couldn’t imagine trying to figure out what to do about my first period all by myself in 5th grade…could you?

REDES is a program designed specifically for girls to offer a safe space to ask questions that aren’t usually asked, and to interact with other girls so that they don’t feel like they are going through the “girl to woman changes” alone. It is designed to teach girls that they can finish school, earn their own money and be self-sufficient.

Last year, 27 girls dropped out of our school due to early pregnancy. Typically the fathers of these babies were older men who promised financial stability to the girls and their families. That is a lot of girls…a lot of girls feeling like they wouldn’t be able to support themselves without an older, money-making husband. This year, after only one trimester at school, 8 girls have become pregnant and dropped out. My counterpart, Amada, identified this as a huge issue (because, well, it is) and she wanted to do something about it. Because Peace Corps is heavily involved with REDES, I knew a lot about the program and thought it may be a good way to address the issues we are having at our school. We invited some girls to participate and now our group is 20 strong, representing grades 8-12. One participant, a 12th grader, is already a wife and a mother but she wants to participate to help the younger girls at our school make good decisions. I think it’s absolutely wonderful and I’m grateful to be working with her. 

This past weekend, we were able to bring three girls to a workshop, where REDES groups from multiple cities in Gaza and Inhambane provinces came together to learn about all things Girls, share experiences and make new friends. I wasn’t sure what to expect, as I had never been to a REDES Workshop before, but my expectations were met, if not exceeded. Our girls learned so much about their bodies; HIV/AIDS and how to get tested; how to use condoms and why they should; the rights they have as Mozambican women; financial stability; goal-setting; Malaria causes, symptoms and prevention; healthy friendships and self-esteem. The discussions were animated, enthusiastic and insightful. Girls were asking thoughtful questions and, just as importantly, finding the answers to their own questions. Mozambican facilitators were demonstrating not only that it’s possible to be a strong, independent woman in this country, but that child-rearing and domestic responsibilities aren't the only things life has to offer to a Mozambican woman.

Girls were brainstorming ways to assess risky situations before entering into them, and how to identify violence against women and get the help they that need. They realized that they had more goals than marriage, and that marriage is a beautiful, healthy thing, but that it doesn’t have to happen right when you turn 18. They came to understand why periods happen and ways to manage the situation so that they can still go to school even when it’s “that time of the month”. They were speaking loudly and with confidence. They were leading singing and dancing sessions, telling jokes on stage in front of their peers, and asserting their ideas with confidence. In a culture that oftentimes quiets a woman’s voice to make room for a man’s idea, this was a really beautiful thing to see. 

There was one male facilitator there, who works in a primary school, so the girls he brought were very young. He was very participatory, gentle, knowledgeable and patient-- I could tell immediately that he was committed to supporting his REDES group. We had a session where girls learned how to make reusable pads out of towels, plastic wrap, capulana, thread and a button. This is a low-cost, sustainable solution that can support girls attending school while on their periods. Each group made one and received the instructions and stencils so that they could reproduce them at home. The girls were all very excited about this and my girls plan to teach the rest of the group how to make their own. As our group was making ours, I looked to my right to see a grown Mozambican man (the male facilitator I mentioned above) hand-sewing a reusable pad for his REDES group. In any culture, that would be impressive, but here in Mozambique (where even women don’t talk about “girl stuff”) it was such a powerful sight that I paused and watched for a solid couple minutes and allowed my heart to be happy. In order for women to have equal rights and feel empowered, men have to also believe that women should have equal rights and be empowered. This REDES facilitator, whose name I never caught, is an incredible role model for his girls and for the boys in his community. 

My favorite aspect of the weekend, however, was not the technical information the girls learned. It was watching them spend their free time. It’s rare for girls to be able to travel to different cities, and as I’ve written about it past posts, travel here is difficult, time-consuming and unreliable. Girls have friends that live in the same city and go to the same school, but that’s about as far as the reach goes. This weekend, our girls got a chance to meet girls from other cities, share stories, learn about different trends in music and fashion, and express themselves freely and with confidence. It was like the Mozambican version of Girl Scout Camp, and it was the best thing. Singing happened. Dancing happened. The Mozambican version of camp food happened. Number exchanges happened. Hobby-sharing happened. And my favorite part of camp…pillow talk happened. Even after long days of listening, learning and doing activities, the girls stayed up super late braiding hair, listening to music, chatting and giggling. One girl heard her first-ever Michael Jackson song…not once or twice but likely 37 times on repeat. She LOVES Michael Jackson now (pronounced Michelle Jackson…). They learned new hand-clap games, got ideas for making new capulana clothes, sang new songs and danced new dances. It truly brought me back to my summer camp days and I’m really glad I got to be a part of offering this experience to my students. 

This weekend reminded me of some pretty important things. It’s super easy to get so caught up in cultural differences that you start to become blind to the similarities. I am living in a country where people have different ways of doing things; where certain things that I think are normal are inappropriate; where the school system is completely different and I still believe a little backwards; where time does not necessarily equal money the same way it does in the States; where it’s ok to ask for things without feeling embarrassed; and where priority lists sometimes don’t make sense to me. Amidst all the weirdness and constant learning and adjusting, I sometimes forget that we are all still humans. We all want to love and be loved; we all yearn for affection and stability; and we all do what we need to do in order to meet our most basic needs. 

A girl is a girl. Love for music and dancing and making new friends and sharing and expressing oneself freely is a characteristic that all girls have no matter where they come from. And this weekend, I got to witness many Mozambican girls and women come together to do the things that they love to do. 

We really are all the same. 

Crichúlia, me and Berta

My counterpart, Amada, and I giving a session on Women's Rights

All the girls from Manjacaze! Me, Berta, Monaliza, Crichúlia,
Amada and Beca (my roomate and REDES coordinator).

A group from Chiqoque, Inhambane showing off their dance skills.

Amada and I. Teammates and friends.

We took some time to see the Inhambane Beach! It was beautiful.