Moz, You’ve Done It Again

A brief history of Viv's electronics in Mozambique:
Oct 2010: Viv foolishly arrives in Africa without a computer and immediately asks Kevin to send one
March 2011: Kevin brings an iBook laptop
Aug 2011: iBook hard drive dies
Oct 2011: Kev brings an external hard drive for the iBook / Viv inherits a brand new REDES program laptop
Jan 2012: On a crowded train, the REDES LCD screen is cracked, rendering laptop unusable
Feb 2012: Fortunately, REDES computer is able to be sent through the diplomatic pouch to be fixed in the U.S.
Meanwhile, Moz claims the life of the 2nd iBook hard drive. Cause of death? Overheating. Burn/ melt marks in the center. *
March 2012: Kev delivers fixed REDES computer and 3rd iBook drive to Germany. Viv loves Kev forever.

*Common occurrence in Mozambique. When a friend took her drive to be fixed in the States over the holidays, she was asked "Did you put this in the oven?"

I took a final trip to Chimundo to say goodbye to my good friend and old neighbor Yoko, the Japanese volunteer. She's leaving for home in 2 weeks, lucky duck. We killed one of the fat chickens from her coop (since I left in June, she's built a fancy chicken coop and sells eggs and chickens in the community, except she saves the really big ones for herself and guests) and ate a delicious dinner of grilled chicken, xima, and cacana (a bitter vegetable prepared with peanuts and coconut milk).
I was feeling a little dejected because I had yet to come across other familiar faces in Chimundo, until we crossed the threshold of Yoko's backyard and a group of children came running at me screaming "Mana Viviana! Mana Viviana!" (At this point, Yoko visibly cringed and walked away. Poor girl. I think the unruly children of Chibuto have permanently traumatized her, because she got a dog to keep the kids away and when I left practically begged me to take away all of the toys and art supplies in her house.) "Is that Mana Viviana?" I heard someone excitedly whisper and then I saw my two Art Club boys Vasco and Rostilho a few yards away, grinning from ear to ear. The moment I held out my arms, they came running, almost slow motion like the movies. The other kids joined, and suddenly I was being group hugged by a herd of dirty children, which made me happy but might be Yoko's worst nightmare.
Vasco didn't look very different but Rostilho looked like a gangster with his shirt partially unbuttoned and a big silver cross hanging around his neck. "Mana Viviana, we've made a lot of money off the fish!" Rostilho told me. I was confused, until he reminded me that I'd given them a game before I'd left- Players try to pick up fish using magnetized fishing poles while they rotate around on a battery-run wheel. "People play for money now, and I've won a lot!" Rostilho informed me proudly. So… Years from now, we'll be able to trace his gambling problem back to me.
Other than that, they were my same silly boys. I gave them a set of face paint markers and they came back later with their faces painted like Halloween ghouls, wielding a cell phone and asking me for my phone number. "Are you going to call me every day?" I teased, and they nodded solemnly. That night they sent me a text message: "Good night Mana Viviana" and the next morning "Hi Mana Viviana, how is it going? What did you dream of last night? Vasco. Rostilho." At which point they probably ran out of phone credit because I haven't heard from them since.
The next day I visited my old workplace, the escolinha, which seems to be doing very well. They are currently constructing a new classroom and all of the kids have nice plaid uniforms. I recognized only a handful of tm, but the few that I knew still recognized me and kept giggling "Mana Vivienne" while ducking shyly behind each other. Two little girls ran up to me singing "knees and toes, knees and toes!" remnants of "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" that I taught while I was working there. I was impressed that they even remembered any at all. Those two learned their first English words from me. It's kind of a nice feeling.
Afterwards I stopped by the Chibuto market to say hellos/ goodbyes to people I used to know. My friend Lee, who owns the Chinese shop, was so excited to see me and have somebody to speak Mandarin with that he invited me to lunch at his house, where he made me a delicious meal of Chinese food: rice, stir fried onion and pork, stir fried ginger and shrimp, and a garlic and fish meatball soup. He piled all sorts of Chinese food goodies on me to take home: egg noodles, seaweed, and… Chinese garlic bulbs. "It's different than Mozambican garlic" he assured me, which I was dubious about until he started cooking. And yes, actually, Asian garlic is a bit stronger than African garlic, and smells a little differently. Who knew?
The way back to Chicumbane was less eventful than the way there (which included me getting stuck in the middle of nowhere while trying to take a shortcut, after my neighbor assured me that there were plenty of cars even on Sunday- there aren't- and waiting 2 hours on the side of the road to get a boleia. Kev suggested that if worse comes to worst, I could eat t little lizard that I found crawling around inside my bag. When I finally got in a car, the two men turned out to be super creeps who spent the entire time telling me that by not giving them my number, I was a selfish person and not here to help the people of Mozambique.
My electricity at home is steadily getting worse, shifting back to the same exact problem I had when I first moved in- no electricity between the hours of 7 and 9pm. (Except this time, I've got a gas stove not electric, so thank God for that.) After consulting with my pseudo-electrician friend, we came to the conclusion that there are just too many houses that leech off the electrical post attached to my house, and there isn't enough electricity to go around so I get the short end of the stick and sit in the dark while everyone else watches their nighttime soap operas. My friend will help me talk to the Xai Xai electricians about it when I get back from my travels. Until then, it's dinner by candlelight! Minus all romantic connotations.
Ah yes, Germany can't come fast enough.