An Origin and an Ending

On February 12th, 2019 at 6:41 in the morning, I experienced the greatest origin there is - the arrival of our daughter after 26 long hours of unmedicated labor. Life changed in an instant with the birth of our baby and my subsequent birth as a mother. Our girl has already taught me everything and then some about being in the moment, letting go of control, cultivating gratitude, and amplifying love.

I'd been contemplating for some time - years really - how and when to write the final entry for this blog. I want to keep writing, tried to start again here, but never quite found my momentum. Life has moved forward. I have a new home now, a new partner, a new family. I'm a new person. Only right that I'd have a new space in which to share.

And with new beginnings there are endings. The news of Cyclone Idai last week, and the subsequent devastation of Mozambique's central region (as well as Zimbabwe and Malawi) has my mind and heart back in Africa. It's surreal to see the places I lived and worked in when I started this blog back in 2005 completely underwater, decimated, the future precarious and uncertain.

Photo credit: Denis Onyodi/IFRC/HANDOUT/EPA-EFE/REX/Shutterstock

Here is a link to donate to relief efforts - I personally know the country director for Save the Children Mozambique and, despite all my NGO cynicism documented in this blog, this is the best way I know to help at the moment - cash aid, in the hands of a team I know is "real".

May these waters recede and somehow there be a thousand miracles.

If you'd like to stay in touch, you can find me at www.aliambrosio.com - a space that is still very much a work in progress. I will be starting a blog over there, and updating the content regularly.

Much love and my most sincere thank you for following me here over the past fourteen years. Here's looking forward to the next chapter, the next routes, the next adventures.

xx,
Ali

Finding Short-Term Housing in Maputo

Even though it's been two-and-a-half years since we lived in Maputo, I still get several requests per month from people planning trips there and wanting advice on how to find short-term housing. This was a tricky proposition when we lived in Mozambique (2005-2009) and I imagine it's only become more difficult as the expat population grows, gas and oil discoveries abound, and rental prices skyrocket.

Without being totally up-to-date on Maputo life these days, I base my advice on a few assumptions, namely:

1) I believe the already inflated rental prices in Maputo have increased significantly since we lived there. Expect to pay a premium for any place that is available.

Rico and I had a 2-year renewable lease on our apartment (good location across from Hotel Terminus/Vila Algarve, street parking, crappy building with water problems, 3-bedrooms, nice natural light, beautiful wood floors, totally outdated bathroom and kitchen, lots of "character", several repairs needed) and paid US$550 per month. We never told people how much we paid in rent because it was a fantastic deal (especially for expats) and we were afraid someone would turn up and offer our landlady double the money and she'd kick us out. We did a lot of repairs and upgrades to the place (replaced the water heater, put in a separate water system for the apartment, painted everything, bought new furniture that we left behind, etc.) so I guess in the landlady's eyes it was worth the low rent because we had a long-term contract, didn't cause any problems, and fixed up her flat so she could get a lot more money for it when we left.

When Rico and I moved away, friends took over our lease and agreed with the landlady to up the rent to US$800 per month. This was in late 2009. I haven't heard what happened after that, but I'd say it's safe to guess that the apartment would easily rent for US$1,500 per month now, if not more.

The nice 3-bedroom flats in the high rise buildings on Av. Julius Nyerere used to rent for US$2,500 to US$3,000 per month back in 2009. I'd imagine they go for around US$4,000 to US$4,500 now.

A fantastic house in Sommerchield with 4 bedrooms and a pool used to go for US$3,500 to US$4,000 in 2009. I wouldn't be surprised if those types of houses are now rented for US$5,000 and up.

I suppose an easy way to check would be to look at the classifieds on Club of Mozambique...

2) I doubt there have been any improvements in the ease of finding short-term rentals. I think a lot of housing is still found informally, through word-of-mouth, especially if you are looking for something less than a one-year lease.

Much of my advice to people looking for a short-term lease or to find a roommate situation is to rely on social networks. This can mean hitting up your Facebook friends to see if someone knows someone with a room for rent in Maputo. You can try Couchsurfing and see if there's a sofa available for you for a couple weeks.

If your trip is sponsored by an academic institution, see if they have any contacts with university housing or students in Maputo who would have a room to rent. If your trip is to volunteer with an NGO or a branch of the UN, see if they can give you names of previous volunteers and email or call them to see what their strategy was for housing.

3) It's easier to find a place once you are in Maputo rather than before your trip. That said, Murphy's Law rules, and you should definitely have a backup plan in case you aren't able to find an apartment or roommate situation while in Maputo.

I often recommend to people that they plan to stay in a hotel or backpacker's for the first few weeks on the ground, so they can have a chance to meet people and network and potentially check out a couple of places in person. Ideally you will find something decent and relatively quickly. However, you might not, and it's important to think about the possibility of staying at a cheap hotel or backpacker's for the duration of your trip if necessary. 

You might try to negotiate long-term rates with some of these establishments: Fatima's Backpackers, the Base Backpackers, Hotel Africa (multiple locations throughout the city), Hotel Terminus (more expensive, but very nice and conveniently located), Hotel Monte Carlo.

And now a request for anyone who has moved to Maputo within the last three years and tried to find short-term housing. What was your experience like? Where did you end up staying? How did you find a place? How much did you pay? 

If you would kindly share any information in the comments, it would really help out the next round of travelers who are trying to figure out short-term accommodations as I am definitely out of the loop these days. Thanks in advance! 

Patrice Lumumba

I was just hit with a gut-wrenching pang of saudades for Maputo after looking at this blog post on Avenida Patrice Lumumba by Brandie at Out and About Africa. I remember that street so well, flanked with dingy modernist apartment blocks, acacias and jacarandas, and a sidewalk that had certainly seen better days. I used to walk on Patrice Lumumba to go from our flat to the Centro Cultural Franco Moçambicano, one of the better spots in Maputo to see local and international art exhibitions and films, not to mention weekend parties with live music.

Something about seeing Brandie's photo made me miss being there so much. When I think about Mozambique in general, big-picture terms I don't have such nostalgia, it's pretty easy to consider it a well-lived chapter in my past and remember the exciting new road I'm on here in California.

But when I think about the specifics - the roundabout where Hotel Cardoso is located at the beginning of Av. Patrice Lumumba (and what was that other street called, the one with what used to be Vila Itália and then became Tapas restaurant - the Austrian ambassador's residence is on the corner, and if you walk a bit further you get to the snack bar called A Francesinha...this is driving me crazy, as Rico and I lived for a month on that street in our banana client's empty flat...the picture in my mind is *so clear* yet I can't for the life of me think of the street name!) - the little Indian grocery on Av. 24 de Julho and Av. Mártires da Machava where the owners used to live in Dallas Ft. Worth and drove a Buick they'd imported back into Mozambique (I can still see the layout of the closely-spaced shelves in my head, full of Black Cat peanut butter and Ceres juices and Salticrax crackers and feta cheese from Clover).

It's these little vignettes of daily life that really hit me, and for a brief moment I'd give anything to go back.

Blue Topaz Inclusion Ring

Back in Maputo we knew a Dutch diplomat who had taught himself lapidary work (stone cutting) as a hobby. Mozambique has amazing gemstones and this guy had a steady source of gorgeous tourmalines, aquamarines, quartz and topaz to practice faceting.

One day I was looking at his finished stones and spotted this gorgeous half-cut blue topaz discarded in a pile of broken tools and chipped rocks. I asked about it, and the diplomat told me he'd started to facet the stone and then realized it had some serious inclusions so he tossed it out (inclusions are like fractures in a stone, or can be intrusions of some other mineral...they make it very hard to properly facet a gemstone). What was junk to him was definitely treasure to me!

I've been waiting for nearly three years to do something with this blue topaz and finally made it into a ring for the first project in my casting class. I made the shank and structure out of wax wires, then cast them in sterling silver. My idea was to make the setting so that I could bend one of the top wires open, slip in the stone, then coax the wire back over the top of the topaz to hold it in place. This was not an easy operation, but I managed to make it work and the stone is nice and secure in its setting.

I am very pleased with the clean lines of this ring. I don't usually work in a minimalist style, but this semester I am trying to explore a more distilled, less decorative style than my usual pattern- and ornament-happy look. It's not easy to work in a style that's not really my comfort zone, but I can definitely feel it's been a productive, growth-inspiring exercise.

Lost and Found

This semester I am taking a class called Lost and Found that is all about reusing and reworking materials or components into new pieces. Our first assignment was to select a piece of old, unwanted, possibly ugly jewelry from a pile of stuff to be donated and somehow remake it into something new and fabulous.

I selected a surfer-style shell necklace that had multiple disc-shaped white shells strung together and some chunks or coral and dyed turquoise in the center. Instead of stringing the shells together, I envisioned them riveted to a backplate of some sort. After an intense design session, I decided to create a spinoff of my Floral Chain Maille nekclace.

I punched out a series of nu-gold brass discs, drilled holes, then linked them together using double-balled wires. This has become one of my favorite constructions, not only for the aesthetics but because it is relatively fast and creates a pretty impressive end result. The pieces move like chain maille and drape really nicely against the neck and chest.

As a result of the torch technique required to get the double-balled wire links, I got a really interesting patina on the nu-gold discs. For a while I thought it might be too charred for appealing wear, but I liked it so much I decided to leave it. I waxed the metal to make a nice surface and preserve the patina, then got to riveting. I attached a selection of shells from the surfer necklace I'd originally selected to recycle, then added some black antique trade beads from Mozambique Island that I'd collected on a visit there in 2009.

The final touch was a pair of stud earrings to coordinate with the necklace. I am so excited about this piece. It's really nice and heavy to wear, and I love that the materials are a combination of old/antique and old/reclaimed/recycled plus a new design. This set will likely go into an exhibition at D+H Sustainable Jewelers in San Francisco at the end of our semester.

Looking Back: Two Years and Four Months after Mozambique

Two weeks ago I was on the phone with my best group of girls from Mozambique. It's hard for us to find a time to chat nowadays, not so much due our busy schedules but because of the ridiculous time differences between the places we now call home.

K. is in Honiara (Solomon Islands), Z. is in Melbourne, H. is in Bogotá, J. is in London and I am here in California. There is only one special time that will work for all of us, and we manage to make it happen about once a quarter. We're incredibly scattered about the world and I haven't seen any of my girls in nearly 2.5 years, but we have one of those magic friendships where we gossip and philosophize and plan our lives as if we were simply having our weekend catch-up, poolside at Hotel Cardoso or possibly Clube Naval with a gin and tonic in hand.

(On a related note, check out this snarky gem of expat writing if you haven't already.)

In my last chat with the girls, the topic turned to whether or not we miss Mozambique. The answer, it seems, is totally dependent on where we all ended up post-Maputo. I have a similar perspective to Z. in that we are both very content with our new homes, our new occupations, our new lives. We are both putting down some solid roots in cosmopolitan cities with good weather, in which we have family and where our partners are content. Neither of us really misses Mozambique, in the sense that it was good while it lasted but we are glad to have moved on. Of course we feel moments of nostalgia and saudades. But in general we wouldn't want to go back, perhaps not even for a visit.

K., on the other hand, really misses Mozambique. Nothing like the perspective of living on a small, quiet island in the middle of the South Pacific to make Maputo seem like the most fun, fantastic, fast-paced and flavorful city ever invented for expats. K. and her husband miss the restaurants, the international crowd, the easy access to nearly everything, the endless opportunities for weekend trips, the (relatively) good connections to major cities on other continents, the solid group of friends... I'm not sure if they could go back if they had a chance, but Maputo understandably has become a grass-is-greener sort of place for them.

H. also misses Moz quite a bit and has already traveled back once to spend the holidays. She still has very close friends there, the kind that will likely never move away, so it's like a homecoming of sorts in that she is greeted with familiar faces and can easily slip back into the life she'd established there. Or so I imagine.

J. is somewhere in the middle I suppose, enjoying her life back in the UK and the excitement of a post-grad-school job search, but also ever-open to the possibility of traveling again. I'd guess that given the chance she'd travel back to Mozambique, but that it's perhaps not at the top of her priority destination list.

What's strange for me is that Mozambique had such a huge impact on me and yet I don't think I'd return if given the chance. I prefer it as a memory, preserved in time, protected from the inevitable disappointment and depression that I would feel if we ever went back. I don't really know how to explain this, especially because there *are* still people there I'd love to see again. Zeca and his family, for sure. The handful of friends in Maputo who call the city their permanent home. Hugh Marlboro. The guys from the local crafts council. Dona Lídia.

I suppose it's like returning to your hometown after many, many years away (Maputo isn't my hometown but it's the place where I spent the most time of my adult life - nearly five years). Everything has changed, and that is depressing. Nothing has changed, and that is depressing, too. People have left, and that makes you long for the good old days when you all used to hang out. People have stayed, and that makes you sad, too.

More than anything, a trip back to Mozambique would make me recall in vivid color the person I was back then. Not that I was a bad person or anything, but I was a *different* person. More immature. More insecure. More arrogant. More idealistic. Still figuring out an awful lot about who I am... There were good times - amazing times, for sure! - but I have a general bittersweet taste when I think back about the Moz years.

Rico and I often reminisce about how unhappy I was there. I know I cried often, that I had stress-induced allergy attacks every week, that I grew to hate the "development" work that had at one point been so inspiring, that I became so cynical I'd force myself to keep my mouth shut when meeting new people because I didn't want to come off as a total asshole and tell them their water sanitation project was doomed to fail.

I remember these things but they often seem like false recollections, like I'm telling the story of how someone else felt, not how I felt. It was bad but I don't remember the details. It was good, but I also don't remember a lot of the details.

For me, our time in Mozambique was characterized by an awful lot of gray areas. Swinging emotions. Sick feelings about what it means to be white and/or foreign and/or rich in a country where so many are born into situations of need. Questions about "development" and what motivates us to "help" others. Questions about who my local friends were and who their families were, realizing that all of that corruption and willingness to turn a blind eye comes from somewhere...Exciting, fun times in the midst of all that gray. Meeting incredible, smart, genuinely kind people from Mozambique and all the corners of the globe. Feeling humble. Feeling like a know-it-all. Living the jet-setting life. Longing for home.

I guess it's only fitting that my feelings post-Moz continue equally gray.

Carla Makes Jewelry in Maputo

I am so proud of my first jewelry student, Carla, who continues to make beautiful designs with wire and semi-precious stones in Maputo. I fondly remember our one-on-one jewelry lessons, starting with the very basics of how to make a wire loop and progressing through pricing and selling one's work.

Here is a gallery of her work. If you're in Moz and are interested in Carla's work, please look her up! She sometimes participates in events like the International School-sponsored holiday fairs, so perhaps you've already seen her jewelry somewhere.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/quimera_designs/

La Vida Expatica #7: Stuff Expat Aid Workers Like

I imagine some of you may have already come across this snarky gem of a site. The postings are hilarious and so dead-on, definitely worth checking out if you are working or have worked in international development.

Maria, Lady of the Wax Print

"Maria, Lady of the Wax Print", acrylic on canvas board, 11x14 inches

After several weeks of painting patterns for my 2D visual dynamics class, we received an assignment to incorporate a portrait of someone who would be the "hero" of our selected pattern. This painting is of a Mozambican artisan and fashion designer named Maria, who I came to be friends with through the fairs at Café com Letras. The portrait is based on a photo of her that I took one day on the veranda of our flat in Maputo.

This was my first ever attempt at painting a person. I wanted Maria to look as if she were being surrounded by this swirling lotus-blossom pattern that I found on a piece of wax print fabric. This painting took about 5 hours to complete, and I am super pleased with the result.

I think it's safe to say I've been bitten by the painting bug. All I can think about these days (other than jewelry) is how much I want to keep painting!

MAPS and Mimosas - Sunday, December 5th at the Polana

Love animals? In Maputo? Fancy some champagne and a delish brunch?

If yes, then you should definitely attend this great event being organized by my friend Claudia that will benefit MAPS, the Mozambique Animal Protection Society.

When: December 5th

Where: Ballroom of the Polana Hotel

Time: 10:30am - 3:00pm

Price: 2,000 MTN

To secure your place, be sure to RSVP to mapsbrunch@gmail.com by November 28th.

La Vida Expatica #6: The Place I Once Called Home Yet Never Truly Belonged

I had lunch with my best friend from high school today. She is due to have her first baby on Tuesday. It was incredibly nice to see her, even if just for a few hours, and the Thai crepes place (how's that for fusion!) we went to in Fremont was divine. I had the peanut chicken crepe and it totally satisfied my craving for spicy comfort food.

M. is my closest friend here in the Bay Area, despite the fact that we haven't really spent a lot of time together since we were 16 (I moved to Brazil to do a student exchange that year, and we subsequently lost touch for nearly a decade). Ironically, life brought both of us to California. She and her husband fled Hurricane Katrina and resettled here. Rico and I, as you know, moved here just over a year ago for his work, to be near my mom, and so I could go to school at CCA.

M. lives over an hour away, but we manage to see each other once every couple of months. I deeply miss having girlfriends nearby, and am reminded of how wonderful that kindred connection can be every time I see M.

Today she asked if I miss living in Mozambique. The answer is yes and no.

Yes a thousand times over to missing our friends, our social life, our global nomad community. The quick bonds formed with people from faraway lands, the dinner parties, the comfort in knowing that you are sharing a common experience. I miss the road trips, the Sunday lunches by the Indian Ocean, the animated discussions about how - and if - development work can really make an impact, about why projects fail, about why we were all there in the first place. Many an existential crisis was sorted out over gin-and-tonics and king prawns.

I have never felt so at home with a group of people in my life. I miss that immensely, the feeling of belonging, of understanding and feeling understood.

I miss many other things, too. The view of the Vila Algarve from our balcony, the tiles crumbling a bit more with each passing day. The streets lined with flowering trees, and the way I started tracking the seasons by what was in bloom: jacarandas, red acacias, yellow acacias. I miss catching bursts of the animated chats had by our building guards, full of whoops and hollers and shrill shrieks of excitement to punctuate the stories being told. I miss Dona Lidia's laugh. Zeca's warmth and reliability. The humility, kindness and hospitality shown by so many Mozambicans. The rich local culture. The mini global melting pot that is Maputo, and increasingly the rest of the country. I miss the pool at Hotel Terminus, site of many a sun-drenched, lazy afternoon, tanning and eating sandes de galinha maionese. I miss the piri-piri, obviously. I could make it at home in the blender, but somehow it's not the same as out of a small communal container on a wobbly restaurant table. I miss the sunrise at 4:30 in the morning in the summer. The nights spent dancing or listening to live music. The markets. I miss bumping into friends nearly everywhere we went. I miss Mozambique because it holds such a special spot in my heart as the place where Rico and I met each other again, fell in love, and started our life together as husband and wife.

Despite all of these wonderful things, there are many I don't miss: the in-your-face poverty, the inefficiency and inescapable bureaucracy, the lack of customer service, witnessing the abuse and exploitation of maids/waiters/workers and realizing that for many well-off Mozambicans that kind of treatment is acceptable, the exploitation of locals by foreigners and foreign companies, the sensation that you were always getting somewhat ripped off because you were white or a foreigner, the often false or tense relationships with the Mozambicans, the finely-tuned hate of "the stare" - an empty-eyed look accompanied by silence that became par for the course in many interactions...the frustration that the Moz experience wasn't what I'd expected - that in many aspects I'd become the typical expat I so swore I'd never be, the sad realization that I, too, looked at people in "local" vs. "expat" categories, that I was overflowing with cynicism, that I continued to do a job I didn't believe in for way too long - one of the motivations being a fat paycheck (the same fat paycheck to international consultants that was so often the topic of our rants on what was wrong with the development sector), the hypocrisy - my own and that of others...the ever-present shadow of depression...the corruption of government officials and others in positions of power, the fleets of white Mercedes and the massive mansions, the decision to give bribes to police or otherwise grease the wheels of the system - and wondering exactly how fast that particular slope would get too slippery to be controllable...the inability to ever be anonymous or feel truly comfortable living in the country.

Some days I am all the way on the "dying of saudades" end of the spectrum; other days I still feel very cynical and am glad that we left when we did. It is all very gray, even as the passing of time affords me a wiser, more objective perspective through which to view our experiences in Mozambique.

One Year

A year ago today, Rico and I left Mozambique after having lived there for 5.5 and 4.5 years respectively. It hardly seems possible. That memorable last day feels at once decades away, and yet as fresh and palpable as last week.

I am having a moment of nostalgia as I remember our time in Maputo, in particular. We were part of such a wonderful social group, and it saddens me to think that these people are in our past, that we will never be together again. Most of our closest friends have already moved on from Mozambique, on to new contracts and new lives, be it at "home" or in a different country, a different adventure.

I reminisce fondly, and with massive saudades, about all of the house parties, the road trips, the late afternoon coffees and weekend sundowners. In particular I miss my fabulous girlfriends: Jenny, Kelly, Helen, Zahra, Anel, Lindsey, Claudia, Evy...the list goes on.

I always used to think it was hard to make friends in Mozambique, and in all fairness it really was. People always coming and going, tricky relationships between expats and locals, cliques determined by country of origin and/or place of work. However once you managed to establish a friendship, you could be sure long-lasting bonds would be formed in record time.

Making friends here in the Bay Area has been slow-going, and in some ways even more difficult than in Maputo. We've established really nice relationships with our neighbors - most of whom are in their 40s and 50s - but it's been challenging to make friends our own age. Much of the time I feel like a fish out of water when it comes to being social, in particular with "peers". I have some friends from my high school days in New Mexico, but for the most part they live at least an hour away and I see them very infrequently.

When it comes to friendships, I am definitely of the "quality over quantity" philosophy, and am content to primarily hang out with Rico, my mom and our neighbors. However, there is part of me that aches to have girlfriends again, ones who live in the same city and who I can call up to have a spur-of-the-moment drink, or invite to dinner full well knowing that the house is a mess and we are eating leftovers, just because the pleasure of their company is so desired.

I remind myself that it took a good 2 years for me to feel like I had friends in Mozambique. I'm sure that at some point I'll look back on this post and find it hard to remember what it was like *not* to have a close girlfriend or two near Casa Cali. But today, on this anniversary of a great change in our lives, I find myself wishing that I could turn back time and spend just one evening with my friends in Maputo.

Riots in Maputo

"Six people, including two children, are reported to have been killed during riots in Mozambique's capital, Maputo, over rising food and fuel prices."

Apparently the local population, tired of increases in the price of bread, petrol, water and electricity, took to the streets in a protest that was organized primarily by cell phone. Unfortunately violence erupted, and people who I've spoken with in Maputo today say the situation is still quite chaotic. There are reports of tires burning in the streets, cars being stoned and vandalized, barricades blocking the circulation of vehicles, and even reports of the police firing live rounds into crowds (although supposedly the police only use rubber bullets). Most people are just staying home, hunkering down until the violence draws to an end.

The news today gave me flashbacks to the riots of 2008, which I experienced first-hand and wrote about extensively here and here.

The main problem, as I see it, is that there is no real solution in sight. Prices will continue to increase, salaries will continue to be miserably low, and the root causes of the social and economic inequalities in Mozambique will persist. While I don't condone the violence, I can definitely see how the poor reach a breaking point when their lives are so unimaginably hard, and yet they constantly witness others (i.e. the fat cats associated with the Government and those who thrive on corrupt business practices) driving their luxury cars, living in their 15-room mansions, and acting like they rule the world. Something fundamental has got to give...until then, expect more headlines like today's coming out of Mozambique.

Volunteering in Mozambique

Lovely readers with experience in Mozambique, can you help me out?

I often get emails from people asking about places to volunteer in Maputo and other locations in the country. I have a few recommendations based on my own experience, but I imagine that with your input we can create a list of volunteer opportunities that is much more complete.

Have you had an experience volunteering in Mozambique? With what organization? Would you recommend it to others? Were there any prerequisites (language, specific skills, etc.)? How did you find about the opportunity?

Here's my recommendation for people who want to volunteer: get involved with MAPS, the Mozambique Animal Protection Society. Visit their website for more information about how they are helping stop animal cruelty in Mozambique and how you can help.

I look forward to seeing your recommendations in the comments!

La Vida Expatica #5: Reverse Culture Shock

My greatest fear upon relocating to California after nearly five years in Mozambique was that I would suffer from some wicked culture shock. I was afraid I'd have such a hard time adapting to life here that I'd become somewhat of a social outcast. In some ways, what I worried about came to pass - I do feel very, very different from most of my 'peers' here - but it's not depressing or anxiety-inducing or something I'm out to change. It just is.

My life's path has shaped me in a way that, while I've become the consummate chameleon and am able to adapt and fit in anywhere, it also means that I never really fit in anywhere at all. The best way to describe it, perhaps, is that I now feel slightly foreign in the US. And surprisingly, it doesn't really bother me at all (which was, in truth, what I really feared - being unhappy with the culture shock I might experience, not the culture shock itself).

Here are a few of the "differences" I've most noted about life in California - the positive and the negative:

- The postal system works reliably and for a reasonable price. Being able to send and receive mail with confidence is something very much appreciated.

- Everything is cheap. Food, clothing, shoes, electronics, entertainment, jewelry supplies, books - you name it. Prices are even better now that the wonderful world of online shopping is at my fingertips and immediately available.

- It's a bit of a 'returning from the developing world' cliché, but the variety and subsequent choices one is faced with as a consumer can be crippling. What brand of toothpaste to buy, what breakfast cereal to eat, what shade of lipstick to wear - I was so accustomed to not having much choice at all, I get overwhelmed quite easily when faced with all the lovely options here. Ironically, this is one of the reasons I love COSTCO so much - yes, it's a crowded warehouse where you buy a year's supply of toilet paper or whatever, but usually there are only one or two options per type of good. Want a 12-pack of canned tomatoes? Great, there is one kind available. Need shampoo? Choose a giant vat from generic Kirkland brand or a name-brand competitor.

- People frequently comment that I have an accent. Even now, nearly a year after we moved from Mozambique, I still get the questions. "But where are you from originally?"

- I love being able to be anonymous. Walk down the street, enter shops, drive the car, go work out, go to the movies...whatever. This place is so diverse you really have to try to get some attention.

- California knows how to embrace diversity, but judging from the young 'uns I've met at school, much is left to be desired in terms of embracing basic education. I do not mean to play into an 'uneducated Americans' stereotype, but it seems that much is lacking as far as math, reading, spelling and general culture go. I am increasingly appreciative of the education I had growing up, and of the education that is so appreciated in other places because it truly is the key to getting ahead.

- So much concrete. So many highways. So much urban development.

- The Bay Area is definitely a hot spot for liberal thinking, but I find myself amazed at how radical and uniformed much of said liberalism can be. Every time I see a 'Free Tibet' or 'Not on Our Watch' sticker it makes me want to let out a cynical laugh. I really want to ask the person who's plastered that on their car or house window if they truly know what's going on in those places, or if they've decided to support the cause because it seems the 'right' thing to do in the face of all the injustice happening in those oppressed, far-away countries.

- Even in this mecca of recycling and reuse, I am struck by how much is wasted. Ziploc baggies are used once and thrown away. Food is bought and left to waste in the refrigerator. Paper or plastic plates are used at parties, then tossed. I am not immune to the convenience of the trash can. It's a daily battle to wash the used Ziploc or wash the real plates instead of caving and using plastic. It's so easy to slip back into old habits. I'm not preachy about any of this, and I try not to judge. It sadly seems inevitable that there is a trade-off between conservation and convenience.

- People love their dogs like nowhere I've ever seen before. I feel like I'm missing an arm sometimes because we don't have a dog.

- Eggs are refrigerated here. Always. In store and at home. I wonder what peoples' reaction would be if they knew I've been eating room-temperature eggs for the last several years and never once got sick...

- It's really, really, really difficult to get on board with the health system here. I know this is a complex subject, but to someone who's just come from the "outside" and not had regular health insurance for quite a while, the system seems very messed up. I find it absurd that I can have a consultation with a dermatologist and they can't tell me up front how much it will cost, that I have to wait for weeks until the insurance company determines how much of this mystery amount they will cover, and then I am billed for the rest. We are transitioning to a different plan now, one with co-pays, so hopefully this will no longer be an issue. Still, how backwards! Also, I've yet to see a doctor who I truly believe cares about me or my affliction. It's all so impersonal, I feel very unmotivated to go get non-emergency medical attention because it seems I spend money for generic advice. I'm thankful we have doctors in Rico's family, because they are the ones I turn to when I'm feeling ill.

- Not exactly a news flash, but it's amazing how Spanish is truly the new universal language of the US. There's not a day that goes by without me hearing or speaking Spanish. It's the language of our kitchens, construction crews, shop attendants, bus drivers, social workers, teachers, house cleaners, city planners, small business owners, international executives. Shame mine is all muddled with Portuguese these days. :)

- Poor Brazil suffers from quite the heavy stereotyping here in the US. On multiple occasions, upon hearing I'm married to a Brazilian, women have asked me, "So, is he really hot?" Seriously! They all have the image of a samba-dancing, soccer-playing, dark and tan lover. I tell them, "Yes, my husband is hot, but not the way you imagine. He works in investment management and loves sailing and comes from a Portuguese family." They look at me like my answer does not compute.

- I really miss some of the little luxuries of life in Moz, namely having Dona Lídia do my ironing and go for shop runs to purchase milk and eggs, and having the building guards available to help me parallel park (the hand gestures showing which way I should turn the wheel were priceless!) and carry heavy loads up the stairs. On the other hand, I love having a Roomba. :)

These are a few of my observations. This list is incomplete and ever-evolving.

I'd love to hear the thoughts of expats who have recently relocated, be it to a third country or "home". Did you experience reverse culture shock? What were the aspects you found most challenging/entertaining/interesting?

Patrão É Patrão / Patroon Is Patroon

Anyone who has spent time in Mozambique has likely heard the "Patrão é patrão" song by MC Roger (loosely translated, 'the boss is the boss'). A song that pushes a political agenda (hello, Guebuza - the country's current President) and glorifies class differences in a way that is questionable...but still, a catchy tune that really caught fire in Moz a few years back and, to my knowledge, continues on the DJ list at most places.

The point of this post isn't to discuss the merit of this song or of its singer. Rather, it's to share with you a new word I discovered in English the other day that rocked my world and made me flash back to many sweaty nights at África Bar or Coconuts dancing to this tune: Patroon.

Yes, patroon. As in the Anglicized version of 'patrão'. I couldn't believe it.

I am such a nerd when it comes to etymology and languages, this discovery totally made my day. And now begs the question: should I be singing "Patroon is patroon" now that we live in Amurrricah?

Feira Junina Crafts Fair in Maputo

If you love Mozambican woodwork, batiks, capulana fashions, jewelry and more, be sure to check out the Feira Junina, going on at the Fortaleza in Maputo from June 29th to July 8th.

These crafts fairs, organized by CEDARTE, are where I gained a lot of confidence and experience as a jewelry artist. It's nice to see them continuing to promote art made in Mozambique.

A Few Ways in Which Mozambique Changed Me

I've written about this topic previously (here, here, here and here) but always while still living in Mozambique and without the valuable perspective that comes from being away from a place for a while. Some changes were obvious - salvaging still-fresh parts of partially rotten vegetables and fruits, becoming less wasteful in general, being more relaxed and laid-back when things don't go according to plan - but others really took leaving Mozambique and living in California for several months to notice.

Here are a few changes I've recognized since moving to Casa Cali:

- I find it really difficult to be opinionated on subjects that I haven't experienced first-hand. I remember back in high school and college, I was such an enthusiastic debater in the classroom. I'd take positions on novels, case studies, politics, ethics, etc. and passionately argue my view with classmates and even professors. It was relatively easy for me to identify what I thought was right and wrong, what I thought would work and what would fail. Not the case anymore. Living in Mozambique - and very particularly working in "development" - significantly changed many of the opinions I'd previously held dear. I used to be the typical supporter of NGOs, international development projects, humanitarian aid, etc...and now that I've experienced them first-hand, my beliefs have radically changed. My politics have also shifted as a result. I can't help but wonder how many other things I support in theory I'd view differently if only I were to experience them in person (as opposed to reading about them or hearing others' stories).

- As a result of the above phenomenon, I am overwhelmed by voting here in the US. There are a few issues I have a clear opinion on - for example, supporting our schools and a woman's right to choose - but others have me on the fence. Immigration, budget cuts, taxes, environmental protection. I can understand both sides of most of these issues, and feel like somewhat of a sucker if I'm swayed by a tv ad or political debate. I think there is so much smoke and mirrors, and apparently I've developed a big dose of cynicism about the political process in the last 5 years. I just don't know what to believe, and after my changes of heart in Mozambique, I feel like I might be wrong on a whole host of other things I currently support. I'm registered as an Independent voter because I really struggle to even choose which political party I most closely identify with and want to support.

- I also find myself avoiding controversial discussions like the plague. I think I've always been somewhat of a natural diplomat (and some would say my star sign doesn't help - I'm a Libra), but post-Moz I really don't want to get into it with people. I don't want to debate politics, religion, healthcare reform, immigration. I will, however, get on a soapbox about my experiences in international "development"...but that's only because I feel minimally qualified and entitled to an opinion because I worked on-the-ground with so many different players in the aid/development scene.

- I have become a total homebody. This makes me laugh because I was such a wanderer and adventurer for so many years. I used to think that "settling down" would mean I'd given up my dreams in life and become boring. :) Nowadays, there is nothing more that I want than to stay home with Rico, work in the garden, make jewelry, play with the cats, watch tv and cook delicious meals. It's really hard for me to get out of the house, which I'm aware can become problematic, but for the time being I'm giving myself a break. I think the move to the US and the subsequent career/lifestyle changes it brought about really took it out of me, more so than I'd ever really anticipated. We've now lived in Casa Cali for 9 months and I still feel tired and somewhat disoriented a lot of the time. I do make myself venture out - to the city to meet friends for dinner, to go to a new restaurant near the water - but it takes a colossal effort and makes me appreciate our home that much more.

- I love the anonymity that living in the Bay Area provides. I can go shopping, go for a run, go for a coffee or whatever and I blend in with everyone around me. I don't attract attention unless I want to. The flip side is that it's much harder to make friends here than in Maputo. No real surprise there, for sure, but it's sort of shocking that Rico and I have only managed to make friends with one other couple and our neighbors since moving here. We have other friends, but they are people I went to high school with and therefore only required reconnecting rather than the entire process of meeting and establishing a friendship. I'm aware that the lack of friends is tied to the homebody tendencies described above, which is fine for now. I miss having close friends, but I simply don't feel ready to put in the energy to meet a bunch of new people. I'm sure that will come, though. I remember having lived in Mozambique for 1.5 years and feeling like I had no friends. That sure changed! :)

I suppose it's hard to attribute these changes solely to having lived in Mozambique. In the last five years I also got married, did an overhaul of my professional life, and generally did a whole lot of growing up - all of which have surely influenced my personality and perspective on the world. Still, I feel it's impossible to separate "Life in Mozambique" from any of those other events - they're all so interconnected and definitely influenced by our time in Africa.

Anyhow, I have many more observations about our life in Mozambique now that we've been away for a while. Bit by bit I hope to process through them and share my conclusions here on the blog.

Edited to add:

On a lighter note, I've also stopped reading so much celebrity gossip now that we are living in California. I still enjoy an occasional visit to Perez Hilton, but I'm not checking multiple times a day for updates. I suppose it's a testament to 1) how much I procrastinated in Mozambique, and 2) how much better I am using my time here...although we do watch a whole lot of tv. :)

White

Continuing with the colors series...

White decor at beach house in Bilene, Mozambique

Detail of ceiling at Maputo's train station (CFM)

Church at Ilha de Moçambique

Well inside the centuries-old home of our friends Z. and K. on Ilha de Moçambique

Rooftop linens in the breeze - Ilha de Moçambique

Noon sun on white courtyard - Ilha de Moçambique

Train to Sapa, Vietnam

Vietnamese porcelain factory

Detail of stairway inside Museu de Arte Contemporânea - Niterói, Brazil

Old mansion - Santa Teresa, Brazil

Five Years

Chimoio, October 2005

Five years ago today I arrived in Mozambique for the first time. I gave a shout of joy when I saw Rico waiting for me in the midst of the crowd of taxi drivers and hustlers outside the Maputo airport. We hadn't seen each other - or even been in touch - for the previous five years, since the good old days when we were classmates at business school in Rio. Rico took me out to dinner that night at Costa do Sol where we watched the moon rise over the Indian Ocean, then ate crab and drank too many bottles of white wine. The rest, really, is history.

Lucky, lucky me. :)