Back in December, even as I was counting down in the last week before my flight home to the States, I didn't completely believe that I would actually make it. I kept thinking about all the possible things that could go wrong: the chapa on the way to maputo breaks down, being late for the bus to Johannesburg, the plane having technical difficulties, or maybe the flight I was supposed to be on would just be cancelled for no reason.
I am sure that this sense of trying to prepare for the worst has come about only since I've come to Mozambique; and why not? As volunteers here know, and as the newer ones are finding out, things happen all of the time here. In fact, they're so frequent that my friend Anthony and I refer to them as 'Vamos vencer' moments, a play off the Mozambican national anthem which literally means 'we shall overcome.'
For example:
1)It took literally 6 weeks last year to find out from Barclay's Bank that I could not in fact transfer money from my account here to my account in the states to be able to pay online phone credit. This of course was after a visit everyweek, filling out paperwork, and waiting an average of an hour, hour and a half per visit. Va-mos vencer...
2)A normal 7-8 hour trip to or from Maputo has taken 10-11 hours because either the chapa driver wants to stop every few minutes to greet a friend, pick up beer, pack the chapa to insanely uncomfortable levels, the car broke down (a common one)and or simply because he feels like it. Va-mos vencer...
3)"Ok, winter is coming... and so we can't start this chicken project until we get electricity installed to make the coop heated. Of course, the guys who were supposed to come install the wires delayed their visit for three weeks and finally, when they did show up, I wasn't there to let them know I had already bought the pieces they needed. Now, I'm not sure when they'll come back... Hopefully soon though..." Va-mos vencer...
That's the way things roll on this side of the world. Transportation is often unreliable. Time is mostly irrelevant. Customer service is about as useful as the help page on facebook.
Now, the way I see it, there are few ways that the volunteer can adapt. She can go crazy and quit the Peace Corps. He can become extremely bitter and angry, maybe even take out his rage on locals and/or other volunteers. Or you can take option C: suck it up, assume that you can't assume anything will go right, and just hope for the best.
Ya know... I did end finding out that my flight to the states was cancelled... a month before, without anyone telling me. But at least I eventually made it home, right?
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Looking Towards the Finish Line... and Beyond
November 15, 2010
That's when my exit interviews begin to take place in the Peace Corps office in Maputo. Close of Service, as it's formally called, is the week of medical tests and questions about my life in Mozambique that proceeds my departure. They want to know how I measure up with my language abilities, how much I learned from my experience living and working in the Maxixe community, and most importantly... what exactly I accomplished during 26 months in country: Where did I fail? Where did I succeed? Do I have any suggestions that can help future volunteers? Then comes the inevitable end: 'Ok, thanks Vic. Have a safe trip home!'
Finding out about my COS date this past week hasn't exactly been jarring, despite my initial surprise at hearing about it so soon. I'm not afraid of disappointing myself or anyone else with what I've done thus far and I'm not afraid for the next stage... I'm actually extremely excited about everything. :) But it's still very much an important point in my life here, a time to think about how exactly I can do what I need to do before I leave.
I suppose when it comes down to it, my thoughts very closely reflect the way I felt back in my days at Canisius, making a final lap in a cross country race. I know the course very well by now... where to go and what strategy to take when I get to certain points. I know that pacing myself is beneficial, but that it's also time to pick it up and make sure that when I get to the finish line, I will have given it my all; mentally, emotionally and physically.
The digression from the running metaphor of course comes as I prepare for life after COS. I mean, I couldn't possibly imagine running a race and thinking, 'Hmm, I wonder what I'll do when I get home. And what am I going to do right now that will positively affect my life after I cross the finish line?" That's where I am at currently as I look forward to applying to law school, working when I get home, figuring out a place where I might live, and of course, marrying the love of my life.
I'm excited for the future, but I have to try and balance that with the present and all of the things I'm juggling. I want to focus on what I need to do in terms of preparing for post PC life and do it, but I also want to see the programs that I am working on thrive and succeed. It's a tricky balance, but one that I think I can pull off.
At this point I know I can fight the good fight. I know I will absolutely finish the race. And I will, no matter what happens, keep the same faith that has sustained me along the way. Just one more lap to go... and less than seven months to the finish line.
That's when my exit interviews begin to take place in the Peace Corps office in Maputo. Close of Service, as it's formally called, is the week of medical tests and questions about my life in Mozambique that proceeds my departure. They want to know how I measure up with my language abilities, how much I learned from my experience living and working in the Maxixe community, and most importantly... what exactly I accomplished during 26 months in country: Where did I fail? Where did I succeed? Do I have any suggestions that can help future volunteers? Then comes the inevitable end: 'Ok, thanks Vic. Have a safe trip home!'
Finding out about my COS date this past week hasn't exactly been jarring, despite my initial surprise at hearing about it so soon. I'm not afraid of disappointing myself or anyone else with what I've done thus far and I'm not afraid for the next stage... I'm actually extremely excited about everything. :) But it's still very much an important point in my life here, a time to think about how exactly I can do what I need to do before I leave.
I suppose when it comes down to it, my thoughts very closely reflect the way I felt back in my days at Canisius, making a final lap in a cross country race. I know the course very well by now... where to go and what strategy to take when I get to certain points. I know that pacing myself is beneficial, but that it's also time to pick it up and make sure that when I get to the finish line, I will have given it my all; mentally, emotionally and physically.
The digression from the running metaphor of course comes as I prepare for life after COS. I mean, I couldn't possibly imagine running a race and thinking, 'Hmm, I wonder what I'll do when I get home. And what am I going to do right now that will positively affect my life after I cross the finish line?" That's where I am at currently as I look forward to applying to law school, working when I get home, figuring out a place where I might live, and of course, marrying the love of my life.
I'm excited for the future, but I have to try and balance that with the present and all of the things I'm juggling. I want to focus on what I need to do in terms of preparing for post PC life and do it, but I also want to see the programs that I am working on thrive and succeed. It's a tricky balance, but one that I think I can pull off.
At this point I know I can fight the good fight. I know I will absolutely finish the race. And I will, no matter what happens, keep the same faith that has sustained me along the way. Just one more lap to go... and less than seven months to the finish line.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)