Saturday, August 23, 2008

Outward Travels

So today’s highlights have been making Coca-Cola with my housemate’s son (yes, I have THE secret recipe), chasing after the family’s pet pig with a spray bottle (not sure why), discovering a nutella-esque substance in the pantry, and a 2-hour energy-depleting, joint-stiffening induced rugby practice. The big Kwa-Natal vs. us meager Mozzies match is just 3 weeks away and I have missed a number of practices and co-ed games due to my soul’s traveling nature.

Two weeks ago I went to Cape Town, South Africa for a 10-day holiday with my housemate, my colleague and her significant other. We saw and did much. Cape Town is just divine, truly a gem of Africa. The city situated between mountains and ocean has a very San Francisco feel. Curvy streets, sublime views, funky fashion, seals in the bay, and lovely vineyard to the north. We gave our palates a test in the vineyards. Mine has yet to differentiate between effervescent fruit flavors and underlying dark oak tones. I can however differentiate between a merlot and a dessert wine! Sorry, I disappoint wine connoisseurs everywhere.

Most entertaining though I think was recognizing how a mere month in Moz had me thinking differently in South Africa. For one, going to the grocery store was like walking into a SuperWalmart for the first time. I would pick up one item go two steps down the aisle and realize there was something even better, set aside the former item, pick up the dazzling new one and continue my quest leaving a Hansel & Gretel like trail about the store. I forgot how good croissants could be (until the 7th morning when I realized mixing up the breakfast options might be a good idea). I was also amazed by the roads. If we ever tried to drive that quickly on a Moz road, we would have a) been crashed into by someone possessing actual driving skills b) incurred whiplash and/or a concussion c) lost a tire and/or other important parts d) gotten to our said destination at the appointed time (a first).

But it’s good to be ‘home.’ Life has a little more character and suspense around here even if it means taking cold showers and forever having black-bottomed feet.

Friday, August 8, 2008

A Pig's Feast

So does anyone have any idea what to feed a pig? Moments ago I was pathetically devouring the last of the peanut butter when I heard what sounded like a man coughing up his last lung. At first I thought the sound was coming from upstairs (creepy) before realizing that it was outside but quite close outside. So with near-empty peanut butter jar in hand (a very choice weapon), I cautiously followed the sobering sound. Only to happen an ugly, hairy, and at present, hungry little pig, which I think may be the much-rumored about pet of my host brother who is gone for a number of days (along with the rest of the fam). As sleep would be welcomed this evening, I'm open for pig-caring suggestions. Presently, he's been served the dwindling and beginning-to-smell remnants of the fruit bowl (apple, tangerine-esque fruit, and lemons).

This past weekend I took a breather from city life, heading north about 2 hours to stay with a friend who essentially lives in sugarcane fields. In way of cities, Maputo is a fabulous cultural mecca, but in way of me, I fancy crickets chirping, bullfrogs croaking, and cruising on red sandy roads. So to the 'country' I went. My friend is an accountant in Xinvane a little village that has emerged from the surrounding sugarcane job beacon. Sugarcane fields stretch far. Since sugarcane is processed after it is burnt there's always a stream of smoke coming from some land in the distance. Always traces of black bits on your car, plants, undersides of your feet. Before being harvested sugarcane stretches higher than corn (complete with the tassle-like decoration on top) and is so thick that I doubt any movie would portray someone running through it. I chose to run alongside the fields. Afterwards learned from a rather astute 8 year old that big snakes lurk in the cane fields. I think his exact words were, "Snakes aren't very polite to people who wander into their hangout." He then proceeded to whip out his little hand ax and chopped a stalk for me to taste. Mildly sweet, chewy like celery. Since the cane fields are at the convergence of two rivers, we attempted to go fishing nearby. Unfortunately, the locals outsmarted us, 'illegally' placing nets that stretched across the river, literally preventing any sign of life to pass through to our bread-bated fishing poles. So we wound up packing our kayaks and headed east for the beach that bordered an Indian Ocean inlet. It was a nice relaxing weekend, an eye-opener to how most Moz natives live, and a mere introduction to how beautiful, vast and diverse the place I now call home is. Learning what villages sell the best cashews...counting the guiness-record-setting number of passengers that squeeze into a chapa ("taxi")...witnessing Zionist baptisms (wow)...identifying my first 'Jesus' bird (this bird really does walk on water)...scrounging grocery shelves for fleeting traces of the only imported chocolate - Cadbury (my palate is getting spoiled, my cash flow not-so-much)...drinking real fruit juice (so real that to be honest i have to add water for my formerly-diluted-not-yet-acclimatized tastebuds)...

But the real learning experience has been in the working-world. Work hard, play hard. I easily put in 10 hour days. There are so many people needing services and so few resources that my day quickly fills up just meeting with families. It's heartbreaking and exhausting. My job in and of itself is a complete switch from what I was doing in the States. Back home, my clinical experience was primarily working in acute-care hospitals with adults suffering from neuro-cognitive injuries (strokes, gunshot wounds, traumatic brain injuries). Here the focus is early-intervention. So I'm in the home working with the family, in the school working with the teachers, and in a private practice for those in between. Last week we had a promising meeting with an orphanage director. A literacy program is in the works. Fingers-crossed. But the schools here, ugh... I visited a 'special needs' school last week. 3 rooms, solidly built but decaying furniture, walls completely bare save for chipping paint. The kids arrive at school in the morning, eat a meal, are sometimes supplied with crayons so they can scribble. Little to no activities are planned. They have lunch by 11:30 and then the next 3 hours serve essentially as "nap time." The television is turned on, the kids are handed magazines (no variety) as if they need to perfect their 'flipping-the-page' skills. It's a shame. Some of these kids are really quite intelligent, quite creative. The same ones that typically act out and cause behavioral problems because they're so bored. Then there's the expat community that we serve, the children of diplomats. Therein lies another issue. Many of these children have well-educated parents who want to save the world through their NGO or diplomatic connections but then fall short in recognizing the importance of being a parent. I am no parent but I think acknowledging the needs of your child is an integral part of being a good one. Putting a bandaid on a wound from years of neglect isn't what I do, trying to get a child's family involved in their learning is. My ability to do so is a work in progress as is diplomatically reminding parents that they have children… (still tweaking the family-friendly phrasing on that one). Of course, there are the parents that are absolutely fabulous and inspiring and should grace the cover of some 'parenting for dummies' book. My favorite is probably the Indian mom who always has something cooking on the stove when I arrive (and the verbal recipe in tow) and is a team leader in her child's life.

So in a nutshell, from 2 weeks worth of work, that's the gist of what I do.

If time allows, I'd love to get a research project going but… sleep isn't too terribly overrated.

Anyway, thanks to all who have sent me messages. If you made it this far in one sitting, I am duly impressed. To be honest my right foot has fallen asleep, tingling sensations in my left foot are in quick pursuit (a sign of how thrilling I find myself). Despite my slumberous state, I thought it best to send (what I thought was going to be) a quick update before I depart for a 10-day holiday to Cape Town. We're trying to write it off as a work trip by setting up an observation with some autism expert but really we just wanted an excuse to let loose (i.e., sky-diving, a wine & bike tour?, cage-diving with sharks…). So just saying hey while all my faculties are still intact! Haha, well, take care all. Oh and keep me posted on the Olympics!