It's somewhere at the end of the tunnel, just not quite visible yet.
I am overwhelmed - in a good way - by my school application. I want to study jewelry design and metalsmithing, and that requires a good old-fashioned entrance essay as well as a 20 image portfolio. The essay I can knock out with no problem; it's the portfolio that is making me a bit anxious.
I've been sketching quite a bit the last few days, including a self-portrait that went down like a tasty slice of humble pie, and still have a couple more images to produce. I also bought a table-top studio for photographing my jewelry. I know you can make them at home quite cheaply, but for me this is one of the best investments I've made in recent memory. I need to tinker with the camera settings a little more, and tomorrow I'm urgently going to buy a tripod in the morning, but even if I have no more time and no tripod, the photos I'm taking at present are, in my opinion, good enough for my portfolio.
In the midst of getting my school application ready, I worked my tail off last week to finish my final consulting assignment (for the time being) in Mozambique. It was this giant business plan about community maize mills in the 'grain belt' in the norther part of the country. It was interesting about 4 months ago, but I am so burned out it was more than a bit torturous to finish the job. Still, I put in the effort (including a marathon all-nighter on Sunday) and am really happy to be done. The pending document was taking up mental space that, quite frankly, I don't have to spare at this point. I both need and want to concentrate on other things now that we are in Casa Cali.
So, other than school and jewelry, what are some of the things occupying my mental space?
- My translating business (this is my counterpoint to making jewelry - it's good work and pays pretty well, plus it keeps my language skills sharp). I registered with the Northern California Translator's Association, am signed up for a workshop on using Trados translating software next month, and am getting ready to sit for the national certification exam for translating into Portuguese.
- Etsy. I have long-term plans for a website of my own, but until then I am sticking with Etsy for my jewelry sales. I am going to update with new pieces in the next 2 weeks. Check out www.alexandraamaro.etsy.com for some unique holiday gift ideas featuring 300-year-old trade beads from Mozambique Island.
- Decorating. I have my studio/office somewhat organized, but there is still a lot I want to do in order to make it the beautiful and inspiring space I envision. I want to paint the walls (of course!) and am leaning toward a light, muted pumpkin spice color. The room is full of fabulous antique furniture I inherited from my dad's side of the family, and I plan on re-upholstering the loveseat and wing chair in a lilac brocade (both have been torn to pieces by multiple generations of my family's cats - suffice to say they're in need of some restoration and love). On the walls thus far I've put some Mexican bark paintings in the arte naif style I appreciate so much, and a fabric wall-hanging from Cuba that features a woman reclining with a fan and peacocks and sunflowers in the background. It is one of my absolute favorite pieces of art (I bought it in Havana several years ago and have since hauled it to Austin, Brazil, Mozambique and now Cali) and I'm happy to have it in a place where I spend so much time.
- Earthquakes. I got this publication at Home Depot called "Putting down roots in earthquake country". It scared the shit out of me, but I suppose that's its purpose. I'm slowly going through the checklists they provide: personal emergency kits, shoes and flashlights under the bed, household emergency kit, etc. We need to have Casa Cali retrofitted at some point, but for now I'm preparing what is within my reach.
- New Mexico. Rico and I are going for a visit next week. I can't wait!
Ok...time for me to get off the computer. I have a long day of photography and sketching ahead of me tomorrow, so I need my rest (and my requisite episode of Law and Order before bed).
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
28
Today is my birthday.* Sometimes I have total blanks when it comes to my age and honestly can't remember if I'm turning 26 or 29. Apparently this problem applies to others as well because the other day I told our neighbor that Rico is 28 (he turned 30 earlier this year).
The highlight of my day today was lunch with my mom and Rico at this lovely French restaurant in Marin County. It was not where we'd planned to go, but today was one of those days where scheduling anything seemed futile. There was a giant rainstorm - remanants of a typhoon - that soaked the Bay and made you appreciate what it must be like to drive in a wind tunnel. We got lost in the city, stuck in terrible traffic when they closed the bridge we needed to cross to go home, and took an improvised but beautiful detour around San Pablo Bay as a result.
It was one of those days when, upon finally arriving back at Casa Cali at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was put on a pair of slippers, curl up with a blanket and watch Law and Order. Rico bought us a bottle of Moet and some Fiddle Faddle popcorn at the local market to prepare for the trash TV marathon, and the friendly clerk there threw in a pint of Haagen Dazs on the house. This is the kind of neighborhood we live in. People look out for each other, bring gifts of baked goods for no apparent reason, give free ice cream treats. :)
Rico and I are still loving our new home. Every day I actually look forward to waking up early, having coffee while looking at the view over the water, and planning what useful things I will do throughout the day. The previous owners of our house completely abandoned the garden, and now Rico and I have massive, overgrowth thickets of blackberries, ivy and weeds to tame. Blackberries are much better as an end product than as a backyard resident. They are full of thorns and put down root systems that put all other plants to shame. We have to wear double-layer kevlar gloves to even have a chance at cutting back the blackberries. It's hard work, but definitely satisfying (especially when we think of what the garden will look like in the spring).
Being in Casa Cali is an exciting way to start out being 28. I have a good feeling about what the coming year will bring.
* My birthday is actually October 13th. I need to update my google settings because they are apparently still on Maputo time (where it is already tomorrow).
The highlight of my day today was lunch with my mom and Rico at this lovely French restaurant in Marin County. It was not where we'd planned to go, but today was one of those days where scheduling anything seemed futile. There was a giant rainstorm - remanants of a typhoon - that soaked the Bay and made you appreciate what it must be like to drive in a wind tunnel. We got lost in the city, stuck in terrible traffic when they closed the bridge we needed to cross to go home, and took an improvised but beautiful detour around San Pablo Bay as a result.
It was one of those days when, upon finally arriving back at Casa Cali at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was put on a pair of slippers, curl up with a blanket and watch Law and Order. Rico bought us a bottle of Moet and some Fiddle Faddle popcorn at the local market to prepare for the trash TV marathon, and the friendly clerk there threw in a pint of Haagen Dazs on the house. This is the kind of neighborhood we live in. People look out for each other, bring gifts of baked goods for no apparent reason, give free ice cream treats. :)
Rico and I are still loving our new home. Every day I actually look forward to waking up early, having coffee while looking at the view over the water, and planning what useful things I will do throughout the day. The previous owners of our house completely abandoned the garden, and now Rico and I have massive, overgrowth thickets of blackberries, ivy and weeds to tame. Blackberries are much better as an end product than as a backyard resident. They are full of thorns and put down root systems that put all other plants to shame. We have to wear double-layer kevlar gloves to even have a chance at cutting back the blackberries. It's hard work, but definitely satisfying (especially when we think of what the garden will look like in the spring).
Being in Casa Cali is an exciting way to start out being 28. I have a good feeling about what the coming year will bring.
* My birthday is actually October 13th. I need to update my google settings because they are apparently still on Maputo time (where it is already tomorrow).
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
African Cities More Expensive than San Francisco?
If so, we've ironicaly made a move in the cheaper direction by relocating to the Bay Area. Not many people out there who can say San Francisco put some slack in their budget!
Read the full article "African Cities More Expensive than San Francisco?" (link found on Expatify).
This article backs up what I've been saying since moving to Maputo: life in the principal African capitals can be very, very expensive*. Angola is usually at the top of the list when it comes to absurdly inflated prices, but Mozambique isn't far behind. These days to rent an un-remodeled 2-bedroom apartment in a nice, central location in Maputo you are looking at around US$850 per month. A small, older house starts around $2,000. Newer or remodeled places easily go for upwards of US$3,500.
Rico and I did the math, and we paid much more to minimally furnish our flat back in Moz than we estimate we will pay to furnish our much larger house here in the Bay Area. Mozambique seems notorious for cheap, poor-quality furniture à la Home Center that costs an arm and a leg (with the only budget option being wicker furniture)...although there are certainly shops that cater to the high-end consumer (i.e. Bali) where you do get quality but pay through the roof.
Other things were also quite expensive: food (despite being such an agricultural paradise, most of the food - and even much of the produce - is imported in Mozambique), computers and electronics, vehicles, airfare (US$1,000 round-trip to go to Pemba at the end of 2008; US$450 round-trip Maputo/Joburg), hotels, office supplies, clothing, most household items, etc.
There are some great deals still to be found, though, make no mistake. We definitely appreciated the great price of: handcrafts (in particular those made with hardwoods), printed cloth (capulanas), labor in general (empregadas, nannies, guards, etc.), taxis, local fruit and veg when in season and, of course, the seafood. Ahhhhh, the seafood!
* I am primarily referring to expat life, as this is what I experienced first-hand. Of course, the mere presence of expats in many of these cities is what drives up the prices (i.e. inflated rent); however, obviously expats are not the ones affected by high cost of living in the middle and upper-class sectors of society. Locals must deal with high costs as well...and one of the things prominently left out of these cost-of-living surveys is the fact that local hires typically make far lower salaries than their expat counterparts. Some organizations/companies are taking steps to equalize salaries, however there is still a very real glass ceiling for many qualified local professionals. I mention this as a footnote here, but it really deserves a full post at some point.
Read the full article "African Cities More Expensive than San Francisco?" (link found on Expatify).
This article backs up what I've been saying since moving to Maputo: life in the principal African capitals can be very, very expensive*. Angola is usually at the top of the list when it comes to absurdly inflated prices, but Mozambique isn't far behind. These days to rent an un-remodeled 2-bedroom apartment in a nice, central location in Maputo you are looking at around US$850 per month. A small, older house starts around $2,000. Newer or remodeled places easily go for upwards of US$3,500.
Rico and I did the math, and we paid much more to minimally furnish our flat back in Moz than we estimate we will pay to furnish our much larger house here in the Bay Area. Mozambique seems notorious for cheap, poor-quality furniture à la Home Center that costs an arm and a leg (with the only budget option being wicker furniture)...although there are certainly shops that cater to the high-end consumer (i.e. Bali) where you do get quality but pay through the roof.
Other things were also quite expensive: food (despite being such an agricultural paradise, most of the food - and even much of the produce - is imported in Mozambique), computers and electronics, vehicles, airfare (US$1,000 round-trip to go to Pemba at the end of 2008; US$450 round-trip Maputo/Joburg), hotels, office supplies, clothing, most household items, etc.
There are some great deals still to be found, though, make no mistake. We definitely appreciated the great price of: handcrafts (in particular those made with hardwoods), printed cloth (capulanas), labor in general (empregadas, nannies, guards, etc.), taxis, local fruit and veg when in season and, of course, the seafood. Ahhhhh, the seafood!
* I am primarily referring to expat life, as this is what I experienced first-hand. Of course, the mere presence of expats in many of these cities is what drives up the prices (i.e. inflated rent); however, obviously expats are not the ones affected by high cost of living in the middle and upper-class sectors of society. Locals must deal with high costs as well...and one of the things prominently left out of these cost-of-living surveys is the fact that local hires typically make far lower salaries than their expat counterparts. Some organizations/companies are taking steps to equalize salaries, however there is still a very real glass ceiling for many qualified local professionals. I mention this as a footnote here, but it really deserves a full post at some point.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Priorities
Bay Area friends, I promise I haven't forgotten you. It's just that I grudgingly have to apply a bit of discipline to my life these first few weeks of Cali. That means, contrary to the philosophy I usually follow, work has to come before play (temporarily).
Number one priority is to finish this giant Maize Mills project I was working on prior to leaving Moz. I'd hoped to wrap it up before the move, but that turned out to be overly ambitious and I'm still tying up the loose ends and editing like crazy. The document must be out by tomorrow, so I may have an all-nighter in my immediate future.
Priority number two is applying for school. I have my heart set on studying jewelry design and metalsmithing at California College of the Arts. They started accepting applications for Spring on October 1st, so I've got to get on it. I still need to write my essays, but that's not a big hurdle as I know exactly what I want to say about my desire to study art. The real challenge will be to prepare my portfolio. Half of the images must be of my jewelry, the other half must be observational sketches. It's the latter part that has me a bit nervous, as I'm not the world's best sketcher and really need some practice. My goal is to get my application finalized by October 23rd, as I've signed up for a portfolio review on October 24th.
Then I'm off to New Mexico for some much-needed time with my dad and my friends in the Burque.
After these two things are ticked off my list and I'm back from NM, I will call everyone and fill the calendar with plans for live music, hiking, bar hopping, clothes shopping, gallery browsing and general discovery of our new home in the Bay.
In the meantime, please know that I'm thinking of you all very much and can't wait to catch up!
Number one priority is to finish this giant Maize Mills project I was working on prior to leaving Moz. I'd hoped to wrap it up before the move, but that turned out to be overly ambitious and I'm still tying up the loose ends and editing like crazy. The document must be out by tomorrow, so I may have an all-nighter in my immediate future.
Priority number two is applying for school. I have my heart set on studying jewelry design and metalsmithing at California College of the Arts. They started accepting applications for Spring on October 1st, so I've got to get on it. I still need to write my essays, but that's not a big hurdle as I know exactly what I want to say about my desire to study art. The real challenge will be to prepare my portfolio. Half of the images must be of my jewelry, the other half must be observational sketches. It's the latter part that has me a bit nervous, as I'm not the world's best sketcher and really need some practice. My goal is to get my application finalized by October 23rd, as I've signed up for a portfolio review on October 24th.
Then I'm off to New Mexico for some much-needed time with my dad and my friends in the Burque.
After these two things are ticked off my list and I'm back from NM, I will call everyone and fill the calendar with plans for live music, hiking, bar hopping, clothes shopping, gallery browsing and general discovery of our new home in the Bay.
In the meantime, please know that I'm thinking of you all very much and can't wait to catch up!
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Changes in the U-S-A
The last time I was in the US, they were advertising 3-blade razors. Now, apparently, what you really need for a close shave is 5 blades. This makes me laugh since I've been making do for the last 4.5 years with crappy disposable 1-blade razors with no moisturizing strip and a plastic handle that will crack if dropped in the shower.
Apparently bamboo is now the popular, eco-friendly choice when it comes to wood. From furniture to flooring to chopping blocks, it seems every store we've been in has some sort of bamboo product to push. We actually bought some of the kitchen stuff - very cheap, good design - and drooled over a high-end catalog with marbled "espresso finish" bamboo chaise chairs when shopping for our basic furniture needs. Sadly, the beautiful deck furniture didn't make it on that list...
It seems America has discovered açai since I was last here. I've seen signs of this in my spam folder for several months, interestingly with açai being toted as the next big thing in weight loss aids. Funny, because in Brasil it's known as a high-calorie, high-energy snack that jiu-jitsu guys eat with granola prior to training. Also, here it's sold mainly in juice or pill form, while in Brasil I've only ever had it as a frozen pulp that's blended with banana and honey and eaten with a spoon.
Granted we are in California, land of the recycling fanatics, but it's clear that if you don't walk into a supermarket or shop armed with your own canvas bags you will get VERY disapproving looks from the cashier and your fellow shoppers.
For the first time ever I am living in a place with organized recycling that is collected along with your regular waste on trash day. It takes some getting used to (each item in the bin is preceded by a question: Can you recycle plastic clamshell packaging? What about corks?) but I'm very happy it's an option.
Organic is clearly the only choice around these parts. Vegetarianism and veganism are mainstream. I feel like the odd man out buying oxtails and non-organic butter in bulk at Costco, although some of my "guilt" is offset by the fact that we have been gorging ourselves on 100% organic apples and meyer lemons right from our own backyard that are the definition of Local Produce.
Leggings are in. Knee-high boots over jeans are as well. Neither look particularly good on me. :(
I am out of date with slang. I speak like an overly proper school marm compared to the way kids these days sound. I wonder how long it will take for my regullllrrr English to come back, if it will at all.
Apparently you now get tax credits for buying a new car, not just for first-time home ownership. Looks like Rico and I hit the jackpot on this one. There are definitely small silver linings to the recession and to climate change.
It's been fun noticing all these small changes, taking stock of what my first baby steps of reverse culture shock turn out to be.
Apparently bamboo is now the popular, eco-friendly choice when it comes to wood. From furniture to flooring to chopping blocks, it seems every store we've been in has some sort of bamboo product to push. We actually bought some of the kitchen stuff - very cheap, good design - and drooled over a high-end catalog with marbled "espresso finish" bamboo chaise chairs when shopping for our basic furniture needs. Sadly, the beautiful deck furniture didn't make it on that list...
It seems America has discovered açai since I was last here. I've seen signs of this in my spam folder for several months, interestingly with açai being toted as the next big thing in weight loss aids. Funny, because in Brasil it's known as a high-calorie, high-energy snack that jiu-jitsu guys eat with granola prior to training. Also, here it's sold mainly in juice or pill form, while in Brasil I've only ever had it as a frozen pulp that's blended with banana and honey and eaten with a spoon.
Granted we are in California, land of the recycling fanatics, but it's clear that if you don't walk into a supermarket or shop armed with your own canvas bags you will get VERY disapproving looks from the cashier and your fellow shoppers.
For the first time ever I am living in a place with organized recycling that is collected along with your regular waste on trash day. It takes some getting used to (each item in the bin is preceded by a question: Can you recycle plastic clamshell packaging? What about corks?) but I'm very happy it's an option.
Organic is clearly the only choice around these parts. Vegetarianism and veganism are mainstream. I feel like the odd man out buying oxtails and non-organic butter in bulk at Costco, although some of my "guilt" is offset by the fact that we have been gorging ourselves on 100% organic apples and meyer lemons right from our own backyard that are the definition of Local Produce.
Leggings are in. Knee-high boots over jeans are as well. Neither look particularly good on me. :(
I am out of date with slang. I speak like an overly proper school marm compared to the way kids these days sound. I wonder how long it will take for my regullllrrr English to come back, if it will at all.
Apparently you now get tax credits for buying a new car, not just for first-time home ownership. Looks like Rico and I hit the jackpot on this one. There are definitely small silver linings to the recession and to climate change.
It's been fun noticing all these small changes, taking stock of what my first baby steps of reverse culture shock turn out to be.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Casa Cali
After a marathon trip that involved two back-to-back 11-hour flights and a 12-hour layover in the mix, Rico and I made it to California two days ago. I'm incredibly grateful to report that, after an equally gruelling trip, our three cats made it across the world as well. They arrived soon after us, and despite some initial shock and yowling about, everyone is nicely settled in and feeling at home.
Rico made it through his immigration interview without incident, and received a hearty, "Welcome to America!" from the attending officer. Our luggage arrived on time, the few cargo shipments we sent (sculptures, paintings) seem to be on track, and nothing serious was lost or damaged in the move. In all the international travel I've done throughout the years, I can honestly say I've never had a trip go quite so smoothly.
Casa Cali is gorgeous, much more cozy than Rico and I had expected from the photos. We have wooden floors, a spacious kitchen, two decks and a stunning view across the bay where, on clear days, we can see the San Rafael bridge. We also have a mature garden that I look forward to learning how to make flourish. We've met some of the neighbors, and are getting to know the basics of our new place of residence (i.e. how to get on the freeway, where to go for a jog, how to get to the nearest BART station, where to find the bank and supermarket).
Rico and I are in the midst of the low-level craziness that is moving into a new house, unpacking and trying to establish a routine. We had the requisite American experience of going to COSTCO yesterday, which was quite a trip. We've been trying to figure out what all still needs to be purchased, what can wait, how we will arrange the furniture, which room will be my atelier and which will be Rico's office. It's a bit exhausting, but I am absolutely loving this process.
I will likely be posting infrequently for the next week or so as we get settled, but please know that I fully intend to continue blogging, and that I also will keep writing about Mozambique and our experiences in Maputo.
Rico made it through his immigration interview without incident, and received a hearty, "Welcome to America!" from the attending officer. Our luggage arrived on time, the few cargo shipments we sent (sculptures, paintings) seem to be on track, and nothing serious was lost or damaged in the move. In all the international travel I've done throughout the years, I can honestly say I've never had a trip go quite so smoothly.
Casa Cali is gorgeous, much more cozy than Rico and I had expected from the photos. We have wooden floors, a spacious kitchen, two decks and a stunning view across the bay where, on clear days, we can see the San Rafael bridge. We also have a mature garden that I look forward to learning how to make flourish. We've met some of the neighbors, and are getting to know the basics of our new place of residence (i.e. how to get on the freeway, where to go for a jog, how to get to the nearest BART station, where to find the bank and supermarket).
Rico and I are in the midst of the low-level craziness that is moving into a new house, unpacking and trying to establish a routine. We had the requisite American experience of going to COSTCO yesterday, which was quite a trip. We've been trying to figure out what all still needs to be purchased, what can wait, how we will arrange the furniture, which room will be my atelier and which will be Rico's office. It's a bit exhausting, but I am absolutely loving this process.
I will likely be posting infrequently for the next week or so as we get settled, but please know that I fully intend to continue blogging, and that I also will keep writing about Mozambique and our experiences in Maputo.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Lasts
I'm starting to play the "lasts game", whereby multiple parts of my day are classified as the LAST time I will do something during this chapter of Maputo: walk up the Caracol, eat pizza from Mundos, cook in my kitchen with my collection of spices, go to the wood market, wake up on a Wednesday morning.
Of course, I can always come back for a visit and do all of these things and more, but thinking about our departure in this manner actually grounds me and helps make it real. Despite all the premature pining for friends and sensory memories, can you believe that it's still not completely hit me that we are moving? It does in flashes, but for the most part it still feels like each day will lead to the next just as it has for the last 4.5+ years. I can't fathom quite yet that one week from today we will be arriving in the San Francisco airport, 3 cats and a whole lot of luggage in tow, and that we will go pick up our new car and drive to our new house.
Craziness.
I've got a very busy day ahead of me, so I'd best get on it. Despite the pain of waking up at 5:30, it's been lovely to have a quiet bit of the morning to myself to drink coffee, play with the cats, blog and listen to the songbirds call in the sun.
Of course, I can always come back for a visit and do all of these things and more, but thinking about our departure in this manner actually grounds me and helps make it real. Despite all the premature pining for friends and sensory memories, can you believe that it's still not completely hit me that we are moving? It does in flashes, but for the most part it still feels like each day will lead to the next just as it has for the last 4.5+ years. I can't fathom quite yet that one week from today we will be arriving in the San Francisco airport, 3 cats and a whole lot of luggage in tow, and that we will go pick up our new car and drive to our new house.
Craziness.
I've got a very busy day ahead of me, so I'd best get on it. Despite the pain of waking up at 5:30, it's been lovely to have a quiet bit of the morning to myself to drink coffee, play with the cats, blog and listen to the songbirds call in the sun.
Monday, September 14, 2009
A New Chance
What a strange day. Busy. A little crazy. Full of procrastination, even though this is the home stretch.
In the morning I went to pick up some checks from translation work I did for a local University, then spent over an hour at the bank trying to cash said checks. Nothing was wrong, it was just a slooooooow process.
I came home, ate some delicious mexican lasagna leftovers from my moment of culinary inspiration last night, then got to work. I have many things pending:
- Maize Mills Business Plan and Feasibility Study
- Translating University's web site text
- Translating project documents from a Malaria Project
- About 12 outstanding custom jewelry orders
And, of course, packing. And socializing. And lounging in the sun.
Despite all that's going on (today is 8 days to Cali), my day was totally overshadowed by an email from someone who was part of my life 10 years ago. A lot of water is under that bridge, but suffice to say this person was once very close to me and that things ended on a particularly sour, hurtful note.
Over 2 years ago, in June 2007, on a late night up alone while visiting my Dad, I was struck with the desire to write an email to this person. All I wanted to do was come clean, apologize for the not insignificant part I played in the disastrous end to the relationship. I wrote for over an hour, spelling out all of the words and actions I regretted, trying to convey my most sincere apologies even though so much time had passed.
I sent that fateful email, and never heard back. At first I was anxious, hoping for a response, but then after a few months I let it go. Recognition of my olive branch would have been nice, but at the end of the day the cathartic process of writing out my regrets, accepting them, and forgiving myself was much more important.
Today I received an unexpected email from this person from my past. I couldn't believe it. (S)he asked if I had time to chat, that (s)he was plagued by a sense of guilt and ingratitude regarding the period when we were part of each other's lives. I was blown away.
I gathered the courage to ask if (s)he'd received my message over two years ago. (S)he said no. So I resent it, knowing for sure that this time, my apology will be read. I admit, I'm beside myself with nerves wondering what this person's response will be, but I'm trying to remind myself that the truly important part of this exercise has already passed - forgiveness of self for decisions and actions past. The fact that I had the opportunity to make sure this person receives my apology is simply icing on the cake.
In the morning I went to pick up some checks from translation work I did for a local University, then spent over an hour at the bank trying to cash said checks. Nothing was wrong, it was just a slooooooow process.
I came home, ate some delicious mexican lasagna leftovers from my moment of culinary inspiration last night, then got to work. I have many things pending:
- Maize Mills Business Plan and Feasibility Study
- Translating University's web site text
- Translating project documents from a Malaria Project
- About 12 outstanding custom jewelry orders
And, of course, packing. And socializing. And lounging in the sun.
Despite all that's going on (today is 8 days to Cali), my day was totally overshadowed by an email from someone who was part of my life 10 years ago. A lot of water is under that bridge, but suffice to say this person was once very close to me and that things ended on a particularly sour, hurtful note.
Over 2 years ago, in June 2007, on a late night up alone while visiting my Dad, I was struck with the desire to write an email to this person. All I wanted to do was come clean, apologize for the not insignificant part I played in the disastrous end to the relationship. I wrote for over an hour, spelling out all of the words and actions I regretted, trying to convey my most sincere apologies even though so much time had passed.
I sent that fateful email, and never heard back. At first I was anxious, hoping for a response, but then after a few months I let it go. Recognition of my olive branch would have been nice, but at the end of the day the cathartic process of writing out my regrets, accepting them, and forgiving myself was much more important.
Today I received an unexpected email from this person from my past. I couldn't believe it. (S)he asked if I had time to chat, that (s)he was plagued by a sense of guilt and ingratitude regarding the period when we were part of each other's lives. I was blown away.
I gathered the courage to ask if (s)he'd received my message over two years ago. (S)he said no. So I resent it, knowing for sure that this time, my apology will be read. I admit, I'm beside myself with nerves wondering what this person's response will be, but I'm trying to remind myself that the truly important part of this exercise has already passed - forgiveness of self for decisions and actions past. The fact that I had the opportunity to make sure this person receives my apology is simply icing on the cake.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Until We Meet Again Soon
It's hit me.
I'm not certain what triggered this heavy, sad feeling, whether it was the come-down from a delicious mid-week escape to a beach cottage in Bilene with friends, or an unexpected email awaiting my return that took me back in time 10 years and made me reflect upon previous places, previous goodbyes, previous me's.
The uncertainty of what's to come, though sometimes daunting, is definitely not what makes me anxious about moving. I love change, thrive on it, really. I like knowing that my next months and years will be completely different from the last ones, that I will be in a new city, living in a different home, with blues and lilac-grays on the walls instead of terracotta and brown, blueberries for breakfast instead of mangoes, keeping my reinvented self busy with a new job, fresh passions, undiscovered friendships. These are the things I think about when faced with change. I rarely get eaten up by the more practical bits like, "How will I find a new job?" or "Who will cat sit when we travel?" or "How long can I live on my savings if everything goes wrong?" I mean, of course I think about those things - I am a planner at heart - but I don't dwell upon them. They don't really bother me. I believe things will fall into place, somehow, sometime. Until then, I know I'll be okay.
What bothers me is all that I leave behind. The friends, the lifestyle, the particular smells and sights of a city and a home, the language, the foods, the late nights out dancing that sometimes, though not quite often enough, end up with a sunrise and a coffee, high heels in hand.
I believe the serial expat becomes a master at making friends in a record amount of time. I suppose it's either that or become a recluse, which is certainly a valid option (Lord knows I love staying at home with cats, tea, my jewelry supplies and maybe a little trashy tv to round it off). Still, I am definitely one to establish my friendships quickly and then desperately try to hold on when, inevitably, one of the parties moves on to new adventures. Somehow it's easier to process when you say only one goodbye at a time. Apparently now that it's my turn to leave, I'm turning into quite the sentimental sap, even though some of my best friends here I've known for little more than 3 months.
What happens to all these friendships? How many do we really keep? How many of these special people do we ever actually see again, despite the fact that many of us are frequent travelers? The answer, I fear, at least looking back at my own life and experiences with moving, is that we maintain precious few of those connections. Part of what makes me so sad about the prospect of moving away from Maputo is that I've established the most wonderful friendships here, and I'm afraid they will all fade and slip away.
Much of it is my own fault. For as much as I love to write (letters back in the day, blog and email currently), I am actually quite shit at keeping in touch with friends and family. I really struggle to maintain constant contact with anyone except my mom and dad, rather going through intense bursts of communication followed by months - sometimes even years - of silence. Sometimes this doesn't critically affect a friendship, especially if it was one born and rooted over a 2-day music festival, or on an 8-hour plane ride. Other times, the lack of regular contact makes the relationship wither away. Recuperating those neglected connections can be hard, if not impossible. I'm trying to be a bit better about phone calls and responding to emails, but it's easy to move away and slip into a pattern of non-communication. I really don't want that to happen this time around.
For the first time in recent memory, I have an incredibly special group of friends here in Maputo. In all the other cities I've lived over the past decade, I've had deep connections with individuals, but they seldom knew each other and weren't really inclined to go the same places or do the same things. Here, however, I have a core group of about 7 or 8 friends - some of whom I've known for several years now - who really define much of what I love about life in Maputo. I can't imagine saying goodbye, or even the more hopeful até logo.
I'm not certain what triggered this heavy, sad feeling, whether it was the come-down from a delicious mid-week escape to a beach cottage in Bilene with friends, or an unexpected email awaiting my return that took me back in time 10 years and made me reflect upon previous places, previous goodbyes, previous me's.
The uncertainty of what's to come, though sometimes daunting, is definitely not what makes me anxious about moving. I love change, thrive on it, really. I like knowing that my next months and years will be completely different from the last ones, that I will be in a new city, living in a different home, with blues and lilac-grays on the walls instead of terracotta and brown, blueberries for breakfast instead of mangoes, keeping my reinvented self busy with a new job, fresh passions, undiscovered friendships. These are the things I think about when faced with change. I rarely get eaten up by the more practical bits like, "How will I find a new job?" or "Who will cat sit when we travel?" or "How long can I live on my savings if everything goes wrong?" I mean, of course I think about those things - I am a planner at heart - but I don't dwell upon them. They don't really bother me. I believe things will fall into place, somehow, sometime. Until then, I know I'll be okay.
What bothers me is all that I leave behind. The friends, the lifestyle, the particular smells and sights of a city and a home, the language, the foods, the late nights out dancing that sometimes, though not quite often enough, end up with a sunrise and a coffee, high heels in hand.
I believe the serial expat becomes a master at making friends in a record amount of time. I suppose it's either that or become a recluse, which is certainly a valid option (Lord knows I love staying at home with cats, tea, my jewelry supplies and maybe a little trashy tv to round it off). Still, I am definitely one to establish my friendships quickly and then desperately try to hold on when, inevitably, one of the parties moves on to new adventures. Somehow it's easier to process when you say only one goodbye at a time. Apparently now that it's my turn to leave, I'm turning into quite the sentimental sap, even though some of my best friends here I've known for little more than 3 months.
What happens to all these friendships? How many do we really keep? How many of these special people do we ever actually see again, despite the fact that many of us are frequent travelers? The answer, I fear, at least looking back at my own life and experiences with moving, is that we maintain precious few of those connections. Part of what makes me so sad about the prospect of moving away from Maputo is that I've established the most wonderful friendships here, and I'm afraid they will all fade and slip away.
Much of it is my own fault. For as much as I love to write (letters back in the day, blog and email currently), I am actually quite shit at keeping in touch with friends and family. I really struggle to maintain constant contact with anyone except my mom and dad, rather going through intense bursts of communication followed by months - sometimes even years - of silence. Sometimes this doesn't critically affect a friendship, especially if it was one born and rooted over a 2-day music festival, or on an 8-hour plane ride. Other times, the lack of regular contact makes the relationship wither away. Recuperating those neglected connections can be hard, if not impossible. I'm trying to be a bit better about phone calls and responding to emails, but it's easy to move away and slip into a pattern of non-communication. I really don't want that to happen this time around.
For the first time in recent memory, I have an incredibly special group of friends here in Maputo. In all the other cities I've lived over the past decade, I've had deep connections with individuals, but they seldom knew each other and weren't really inclined to go the same places or do the same things. Here, however, I have a core group of about 7 or 8 friends - some of whom I've known for several years now - who really define much of what I love about life in Maputo. I can't imagine saying goodbye, or even the more hopeful até logo.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Rye Bread, La Loca Style
For Mbini and Stefanie.
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1/4 cup sesame seeds, ground in blender*
1/4 cup flax seeds, ground in blender*
1/4 cup caraway seeds, ground in blender*
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 package quick-rise yeast
1 tsp salt
1 cup water
1/3 cup plain yogurt
2 tbsp butter
In a large bowl, mix 1 cup all-purpose flour, whole wheat flour, ground seeds (sesame + flax + caraway), brown sugar, yeast and salt.
Heat water, yogurt and butter in a saucepan until about 120-130F (until it feels like very hot bath water) - do not let boil!
Add the wet mixture to dry ingredients, mix until smooth. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a soft dough. Turn onto a floured surface and knead several minutes until smooth (don't let the dough rise).
Shape dough into a ball and put on a greased cookie sheet. Let dough rise about 20 minutes, until doubled in size. Bake at 400F for 25-30 minutes until golden brown. Enjoy!
* You can use any combination of seeds or nuts for this component of the dough. You can also leave them whole, but grinding in a coffee grinder or blender attachment ensures maximum absorption by the body, in particular for flaxseeds.
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1/4 cup sesame seeds, ground in blender*
1/4 cup flax seeds, ground in blender*
1/4 cup caraway seeds, ground in blender*
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 package quick-rise yeast
1 tsp salt
1 cup water
1/3 cup plain yogurt
2 tbsp butter
In a large bowl, mix 1 cup all-purpose flour, whole wheat flour, ground seeds (sesame + flax + caraway), brown sugar, yeast and salt.
Heat water, yogurt and butter in a saucepan until about 120-130F (until it feels like very hot bath water) - do not let boil!
Add the wet mixture to dry ingredients, mix until smooth. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a soft dough. Turn onto a floured surface and knead several minutes until smooth (don't let the dough rise).
Shape dough into a ball and put on a greased cookie sheet. Let dough rise about 20 minutes, until doubled in size. Bake at 400F for 25-30 minutes until golden brown. Enjoy!
* You can use any combination of seeds or nuts for this component of the dough. You can also leave them whole, but grinding in a coffee grinder or blender attachment ensures maximum absorption by the body, in particular for flaxseeds.
The Quest
It's a simple one. I want to be tan when we go back to the US in 14 days (fourteen days!), so some serious pool and beach time is in order. I know it is meant to be avoided, but man I love sitting in the sun! Doused up in SPF 30, of course, but loving every hot, humid minute.
Today the heat hit Maputo, suddenly and accompanied by unforgiving wind, as it seems to happen every year in September. Yesterday it was warm, but clear and with full blue skies, still chilly at night. Today, something shifted. I could feel it at 6am when the cats woke me up. It was hot, suffocatingly so. Gray, hazy skies. On the weather report they said it was 35C.
I had pilates this evening with the trainer. Since we've sold most of our furniture already - portable fan included - I suffered quite a bit in the heat. Sweat glistened off my feet and dripped down my face minutes into the first stretch. Vodka tonics post-workout really were the only remedy imaginable.
Tomorrow we are off for a bit of a beach holiday. Rico and I, together with a couple we've become quite close friends with in the last two months or so. I find it so frustrating that you seem to meet the best people in the final moments leading up to a transcontinental move. Still, meeting late is better than not meeting at all, for sure.
We are heading to Bilene, a lagoon of brackish water a couple hours to the north in Gaza Province. Rico and I may have to haul our laptops along to do a bit of work in the downtime between sunning and braai, but still - it's a vacation.
Back on Friday, hopefully several steps closer to completing my tan-a-licious goal.
Today the heat hit Maputo, suddenly and accompanied by unforgiving wind, as it seems to happen every year in September. Yesterday it was warm, but clear and with full blue skies, still chilly at night. Today, something shifted. I could feel it at 6am when the cats woke me up. It was hot, suffocatingly so. Gray, hazy skies. On the weather report they said it was 35C.
I had pilates this evening with the trainer. Since we've sold most of our furniture already - portable fan included - I suffered quite a bit in the heat. Sweat glistened off my feet and dripped down my face minutes into the first stretch. Vodka tonics post-workout really were the only remedy imaginable.
Tomorrow we are off for a bit of a beach holiday. Rico and I, together with a couple we've become quite close friends with in the last two months or so. I find it so frustrating that you seem to meet the best people in the final moments leading up to a transcontinental move. Still, meeting late is better than not meeting at all, for sure.
We are heading to Bilene, a lagoon of brackish water a couple hours to the north in Gaza Province. Rico and I may have to haul our laptops along to do a bit of work in the downtime between sunning and braai, but still - it's a vacation.
Back on Friday, hopefully several steps closer to completing my tan-a-licious goal.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Not Fun
The goodbyes have started.
This morning it was Andrew, my 'intern' who turned into one of the best friends I've made in recent memory. We had great times together doing fieldwork in Nampula and Zambézia, drinking beers, discussing development, comparing our tastes in music. He came over to say bye before flying up to Nampula, and at least I managed to control the tears until after he'd left. I believe we will see each other again, but it makes me sad to think that our friendship will inevitably change.
Then, this evening after my jewelry open house, I said goodbye to Helen. Admittedly we don't know her super well, but she is one of the best friends we have here and we will miss her dearly. She is such a unique person. I remember the first time we met at the Franco Moçambicano. I couldn't stop laughing - she has the most wicked sense of humor, and a great Scottish accent to accompany it. I hope she comes to visit if she takes a holiday in the US.
This is just the beginning. I don't know if I'm ready for all these farewells.
This morning it was Andrew, my 'intern' who turned into one of the best friends I've made in recent memory. We had great times together doing fieldwork in Nampula and Zambézia, drinking beers, discussing development, comparing our tastes in music. He came over to say bye before flying up to Nampula, and at least I managed to control the tears until after he'd left. I believe we will see each other again, but it makes me sad to think that our friendship will inevitably change.
Then, this evening after my jewelry open house, I said goodbye to Helen. Admittedly we don't know her super well, but she is one of the best friends we have here and we will miss her dearly. She is such a unique person. I remember the first time we met at the Franco Moçambicano. I couldn't stop laughing - she has the most wicked sense of humor, and a great Scottish accent to accompany it. I hope she comes to visit if she takes a holiday in the US.
This is just the beginning. I don't know if I'm ready for all these farewells.
Hoje...
Today I will:
- drink several cups of coffee
- make a double batch of Amarula brownies
- ignore my tendonitis for a few hours
- put on gold jeweled sandals
- make several pairs of earrings out of trade beads
- remove as much cat hair from the sofas as possible
- have a glass of vinho verde
- hammer and oxidize some silver components
...all in preparation for my last jewelry sale in Mozambique. Hardly seems possible!
- drink several cups of coffee
- make a double batch of Amarula brownies
- ignore my tendonitis for a few hours
- put on gold jeweled sandals
- make several pairs of earrings out of trade beads
- remove as much cat hair from the sofas as possible
- have a glass of vinho verde
- hammer and oxidize some silver components
...all in preparation for my last jewelry sale in Mozambique. Hardly seems possible!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Things I Am Looking Forward to in the US
Perhaps the most common question I get these days is, "Are you happy about moving back to the US?"
It's a deceptively simple question. I feel like many people expect me to say 'no', or at least 'mais ou menos' and give some sort of politically or culturally inpsired response about how life outside the US is more inspired/less materialistic/more authentic/more spontaneous/more-or-less whatever. Even with Obama, there is still a lot of stigma associated with the US and the American lifestyle and frankly, I'm over it!
I am very happy to be going back to the US, and although there will certainly be reverse culture shock and the requisite ups and downs, I can't imagine a better next chapter to follow this Mozambican experience.
Here is a little rundown of things - superficial and not - that I'm looking forward to:
1. Reliable emergency response. If you call 911, someone will show up to help you within minutes.
2. Being anonymous, even if for a limited time.
3. Escaping the mulungo identity. Walking down the street, chatting with someone, talking about my life and profession without immediate assumptions being made because I am a White Foreigner.
4. Whole Foods, farmer's markets, specialty food shops.
5. Talented hairdressers.
6. Online shopping, especially Sephora, Overstock, Victoria's Secret and Nordstrom's.
7. CUSTOMER SERVICE.
8. Access to continuing education in any field imaginable.
9. Being able to shop for beads and jewelry supplies on demand.
10. Safe, reliable public transport.
11. Urban bike riding, hiking trails, public parks.
12. Wine tasting in Napa.
13. Cheap tickets on Southwest to visit family and friends. The idea that I can go back to New Mexico for a weekend is incredibly exciting.
14. Having my cousins come to stay with us - the cool aunt and uncle - for a couple weeks.
15. Decorating Casa Cali, even if it means finding a way to work with wood paneling.
16. Veterinary services that are up to par and available 24/7. I am still traumatized by Parceiro's death.
17. Bookstores!
18. Road trips through National Parks.
19. Weather cold enough to merit knee-high boots and overcoats.
20. Do-it-yourself culture.
21. Open discussions about politics, economics and religion.
22. New Mexican food - chile rellenos, enchiladas, sopaipillas, biscochitos.
23. Christmas in the winter, like it's meant to be. :)
24. Our first Christmas tree, complete with all the family ornaments that have been passed down to me over the years.
25. Discovering the endless possibilities of Craigslist.
26. Allowing myself to write more freely about my experiences in and opinions of Mozambique - I've met incredible people through my public blog, and truly enjoyed being a resource for life in Maputo/Moz, however I reached a point where I no longer felt comfortable writing candidly about certin subjects because of my readership. Once in the US, the distance makes it easier to reflect upon certain experiences, as well as perhaps the courage to put my opinions out there, even if they are not 100% "politically correct" or popular.
27. Taking art classes.
28. Starting a proper jewelry business, complete with a website with e-commerce.
29. Foods that I can't find or am unwilling to spend an arm and a leg on here: green chile, blueberries, figs, raspberries, different varieties of cheese, deli meats, toffee, packaged tortillas, multi-grain bread, roasted red peppers...the list is long!
30. Reconnecting with friends. Even with Skype and Facebook, there is something about physical distance that has made several - if not most - of my friendships back 'home' weaken. I look forward to nurturing them again.
31. Halloween.
32. Thanksgiving with family.
33. No more LAM (Mozambique's national airline, and currently the only option for domestic travel)
34. Speaking Spanish on a regular basis. I fear it's been somewhat compromised by my time in Mozambique.
35. Having more visitors. In my 4+ years here, I can tally my visitors on one hand: my mom, my Brazilian friend Heleno who was living in China, my childhood friend Hallie and her friend Cheryl...and that's it. I realize Moz is an expensive and complicated destination, but I also feel that a lot of people simply weren't interested in visiting or were concerned (about perceived health risks, lack of development, etc.) Already for our house in Casa Cali we have 4 visitors lined up!
36. Getting to know our neighbors and neighborhood. Becoming part of a community.
37. Feeling like I 'belong', even though I am aware this is an elusive concept for me. Still, there is something about returning to your home country that helps further define your identity, your sense of community, your sense of roots.
38. Being able to register and open a business in 1 week.
39. A justice system that works, contracts that can be enforced, infractions that are punished regardless of the person's influence or wealth. Yes, there is a flip side to this all in the lack of 'jeitinho' and spontaneity, but there are many, many benefits to rules and systems that are clear and enforced.
40. Nia classes.
41. Pilates studios.
42. Beaches that are not used as collective toilets or contaminated by sewage.
43. Being 20 minutes away from my mom's house.
44. Internet that is fast enough to download tv episodes and watch videos on You Tube uninterrupted.
45. Witnessing and participating in a culture of entrepreneurship, pride, hard work and optimism...even in the face of severe economic crisis and personal/financial setbacks.
46. Camping with my dad.
47. Meeting blog friends in 'real life'.
48. Driving on the left again, and finally learning how to properly f'ing parallel park!!
49. Dishwashers and clothes dryers.
50. Being proud to be American. It's been a long road through teenage cultural identity issues and nomadic wanderings in my 20's, but I've come full circle. I'm excited to be in the US without the feeling that I want to be someone or somewhere else. Yes, the urge to travel and experience life in far-flung places will remain - it's in my blood - but it is also incredibly nice to find peace in coming Home.
It's a deceptively simple question. I feel like many people expect me to say 'no', or at least 'mais ou menos' and give some sort of politically or culturally inpsired response about how life outside the US is more inspired/less materialistic/more authentic/more spontaneous/more-or-less whatever. Even with Obama, there is still a lot of stigma associated with the US and the American lifestyle and frankly, I'm over it!
I am very happy to be going back to the US, and although there will certainly be reverse culture shock and the requisite ups and downs, I can't imagine a better next chapter to follow this Mozambican experience.
Here is a little rundown of things - superficial and not - that I'm looking forward to:
1. Reliable emergency response. If you call 911, someone will show up to help you within minutes.
2. Being anonymous, even if for a limited time.
3. Escaping the mulungo identity. Walking down the street, chatting with someone, talking about my life and profession without immediate assumptions being made because I am a White Foreigner.
4. Whole Foods, farmer's markets, specialty food shops.
5. Talented hairdressers.
6. Online shopping, especially Sephora, Overstock, Victoria's Secret and Nordstrom's.
7. CUSTOMER SERVICE.
8. Access to continuing education in any field imaginable.
9. Being able to shop for beads and jewelry supplies on demand.
10. Safe, reliable public transport.
11. Urban bike riding, hiking trails, public parks.
12. Wine tasting in Napa.
13. Cheap tickets on Southwest to visit family and friends. The idea that I can go back to New Mexico for a weekend is incredibly exciting.
14. Having my cousins come to stay with us - the cool aunt and uncle - for a couple weeks.
15. Decorating Casa Cali, even if it means finding a way to work with wood paneling.
16. Veterinary services that are up to par and available 24/7. I am still traumatized by Parceiro's death.
17. Bookstores!
18. Road trips through National Parks.
19. Weather cold enough to merit knee-high boots and overcoats.
20. Do-it-yourself culture.
21. Open discussions about politics, economics and religion.
22. New Mexican food - chile rellenos, enchiladas, sopaipillas, biscochitos.
23. Christmas in the winter, like it's meant to be. :)
24. Our first Christmas tree, complete with all the family ornaments that have been passed down to me over the years.
25. Discovering the endless possibilities of Craigslist.
26. Allowing myself to write more freely about my experiences in and opinions of Mozambique - I've met incredible people through my public blog, and truly enjoyed being a resource for life in Maputo/Moz, however I reached a point where I no longer felt comfortable writing candidly about certin subjects because of my readership. Once in the US, the distance makes it easier to reflect upon certain experiences, as well as perhaps the courage to put my opinions out there, even if they are not 100% "politically correct" or popular.
27. Taking art classes.
28. Starting a proper jewelry business, complete with a website with e-commerce.
29. Foods that I can't find or am unwilling to spend an arm and a leg on here: green chile, blueberries, figs, raspberries, different varieties of cheese, deli meats, toffee, packaged tortillas, multi-grain bread, roasted red peppers...the list is long!
30. Reconnecting with friends. Even with Skype and Facebook, there is something about physical distance that has made several - if not most - of my friendships back 'home' weaken. I look forward to nurturing them again.
31. Halloween.
32. Thanksgiving with family.
33. No more LAM (Mozambique's national airline, and currently the only option for domestic travel)
34. Speaking Spanish on a regular basis. I fear it's been somewhat compromised by my time in Mozambique.
35. Having more visitors. In my 4+ years here, I can tally my visitors on one hand: my mom, my Brazilian friend Heleno who was living in China, my childhood friend Hallie and her friend Cheryl...and that's it. I realize Moz is an expensive and complicated destination, but I also feel that a lot of people simply weren't interested in visiting or were concerned (about perceived health risks, lack of development, etc.) Already for our house in Casa Cali we have 4 visitors lined up!
36. Getting to know our neighbors and neighborhood. Becoming part of a community.
37. Feeling like I 'belong', even though I am aware this is an elusive concept for me. Still, there is something about returning to your home country that helps further define your identity, your sense of community, your sense of roots.
38. Being able to register and open a business in 1 week.
39. A justice system that works, contracts that can be enforced, infractions that are punished regardless of the person's influence or wealth. Yes, there is a flip side to this all in the lack of 'jeitinho' and spontaneity, but there are many, many benefits to rules and systems that are clear and enforced.
40. Nia classes.
41. Pilates studios.
42. Beaches that are not used as collective toilets or contaminated by sewage.
43. Being 20 minutes away from my mom's house.
44. Internet that is fast enough to download tv episodes and watch videos on You Tube uninterrupted.
45. Witnessing and participating in a culture of entrepreneurship, pride, hard work and optimism...even in the face of severe economic crisis and personal/financial setbacks.
46. Camping with my dad.
47. Meeting blog friends in 'real life'.
48. Driving on the left again, and finally learning how to properly f'ing parallel park!!
49. Dishwashers and clothes dryers.
50. Being proud to be American. It's been a long road through teenage cultural identity issues and nomadic wanderings in my 20's, but I've come full circle. I'm excited to be in the US without the feeling that I want to be someone or somewhere else. Yes, the urge to travel and experience life in far-flung places will remain - it's in my blood - but it is also incredibly nice to find peace in coming Home.
Despedida
I can't believe it. No longer can I say we leave 'next month' or 'at the end of September' like it's ages away. September is here. We leave in 23 days.
Santo Cristo.
Our lovely friends here in Maputo threw me and Rico a going away party on Friday night. It was at the Eiffel-designed train station downtown, by far my favorite building in all of the city. It was a wonderful despedida, complete with a dj, dancing, lots of friends, two of the most delicious cakes I've had in Maputo (usually they look pretty but taste of either cardboard or margarine), and a hand-painted banner hanging in the middle of the station wishing us farewell, reminding us that there will be many saudades.
In good Moz fashion, the night extended far beyond what we'd originally planned for, and Rico and I made it home around 5am. We ate some leftover goodbye cake, then went to bed with 3 purring cats sprawled around us. Vida boa, for sure.
Santo Cristo.
Our lovely friends here in Maputo threw me and Rico a going away party on Friday night. It was at the Eiffel-designed train station downtown, by far my favorite building in all of the city. It was a wonderful despedida, complete with a dj, dancing, lots of friends, two of the most delicious cakes I've had in Maputo (usually they look pretty but taste of either cardboard or margarine), and a hand-painted banner hanging in the middle of the station wishing us farewell, reminding us that there will be many saudades.
In good Moz fashion, the night extended far beyond what we'd originally planned for, and Rico and I made it home around 5am. We ate some leftover goodbye cake, then went to bed with 3 purring cats sprawled around us. Vida boa, for sure.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Soaking Up Our Maputo Home
On Saturday it hit me like a ton of bricks: We are leaving Mozambique in less than one month.
Suddenly I feel the slight panic of not enough time to see friends, suntan at the beach, eat prawns, dance until dawn, purchase souvenirs at the wood market. There will never be enough time, I suppose, but it is sad when you start to think about the "last's" of a particular experience.
People keep asking if I am excited to move to the US. The answer, unequivocally, is yes. I can't wait to move to the Bay Area, to be near family, to be anonymous in a city (even if for a short time), to experience a new and vibrant community, to build a new home and life together with Rico.
Part of me is also bittersweet, though. We have such a nice lifestyle here, fabulous friends, good work (although both Rico and I are severely burned out at the moment). Perhaps one of the things I will miss the most is the wonderful comfort I feel being at home in our flat, hanging out with the cats, watching something trashy on tv. I know with time a similar and even more comforting feeling will appear in our new home at Casa Cali, but our apartment here in Maputo holds a special place in my heart. It was here that Rico and I first lived on our own together, where we established sustainable careers, where we started our lives as a married couple.
I'm enjoying these moments in the flat (and in Maputo) as much as possible, all too aware that they will soon be part of the past.
Suddenly I feel the slight panic of not enough time to see friends, suntan at the beach, eat prawns, dance until dawn, purchase souvenirs at the wood market. There will never be enough time, I suppose, but it is sad when you start to think about the "last's" of a particular experience.
People keep asking if I am excited to move to the US. The answer, unequivocally, is yes. I can't wait to move to the Bay Area, to be near family, to be anonymous in a city (even if for a short time), to experience a new and vibrant community, to build a new home and life together with Rico.
Part of me is also bittersweet, though. We have such a nice lifestyle here, fabulous friends, good work (although both Rico and I are severely burned out at the moment). Perhaps one of the things I will miss the most is the wonderful comfort I feel being at home in our flat, hanging out with the cats, watching something trashy on tv. I know with time a similar and even more comforting feeling will appear in our new home at Casa Cali, but our apartment here in Maputo holds a special place in my heart. It was here that Rico and I first lived on our own together, where we established sustainable careers, where we started our lives as a married couple.
I'm enjoying these moments in the flat (and in Maputo) as much as possible, all too aware that they will soon be part of the past.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
healing
i currently am typing with one hand, a last visit to the laptop before i shut down for a few days. i have terrible tendonitis in my right forearm, the result of overuse of the mouse and too much typing. i am off to the physiotherapist tomorrow, and am taking off work.
see you all in about a week's time, hopefully with some new stories about our moving preparations.
see you all in about a week's time, hopefully with some new stories about our moving preparations.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The End of an Era?
In the wake of multiple fatal traffic accidents involving chapas, it looks like the days of this ubiquitous sardine can on wheels are numbered:
Mozambican private transport operators have 90 days to replace 15 seater minibuses with larger passenger vehicles, under new transport regulations approved by the government. According to Olivio Pinto, national director of road transport, interviewed by the independent television station STV, the growth in the urban population demands the use of larger and more comfortable vehicles. Three months from now, only buses that can carry 40 or more passengers will be allowed on the roads of Mozambican cities."Compulsory timetables seek to discourage operators from starting the journey whenever they see fit, and leaving citizens waiting at bus stops for hours, without knowing when the bus will appear", the deputy national director of road transport, Taibo Issufo, told reporters at a seminar to publicise the new regulations.
("15 Seater Passenger Vehicles to be Banned, AIM NEWS)
Banning small chapas seems highly unlikely given the reality of public transport in Mozambique, but moving toward safer vehicles and actually enforcing operating regulations is definitely a step in the right direction.
I don't take chapas. I've done it a few times, either out of total necessity or when riding with a local friend, but they make me claustrophobic and I find the safety issues to be quite terrifying. Before we had a car, I was happy to save money on food, entertainment, electricity consumption - just about anything - rather than be forced to take a chapa for budget reasons.
For many foreigners, riding chapas has massive "authenticity appeal," so I suppose it's time to take advantage of the experience while it is still around. After all, nonchalantly telling friends back home at a dinner party that you rode to work every day in Maputo in a regular bus really doesn't have the wow-factor of saying you were shoved in a Hiace with 25 other passengers, someone else's snotty baby on your lap, a chicken between your feet (not yours either, of course), and the guy who makes change discreetly trying to cop a feel while you struggle to the front of the vehicle after having yelled "Paragem!" in a desperate attempt to get the bloody thing to stop within walking distance of your destination.
Mozambican private transport operators have 90 days to replace 15 seater minibuses with larger passenger vehicles, under new transport regulations approved by the government. According to Olivio Pinto, national director of road transport, interviewed by the independent television station STV, the growth in the urban population demands the use of larger and more comfortable vehicles. Three months from now, only buses that can carry 40 or more passengers will be allowed on the roads of Mozambican cities."Compulsory timetables seek to discourage operators from starting the journey whenever they see fit, and leaving citizens waiting at bus stops for hours, without knowing when the bus will appear", the deputy national director of road transport, Taibo Issufo, told reporters at a seminar to publicise the new regulations.
("15 Seater Passenger Vehicles to be Banned, AIM NEWS)
Banning small chapas seems highly unlikely given the reality of public transport in Mozambique, but moving toward safer vehicles and actually enforcing operating regulations is definitely a step in the right direction.
I don't take chapas. I've done it a few times, either out of total necessity or when riding with a local friend, but they make me claustrophobic and I find the safety issues to be quite terrifying. Before we had a car, I was happy to save money on food, entertainment, electricity consumption - just about anything - rather than be forced to take a chapa for budget reasons.
For many foreigners, riding chapas has massive "authenticity appeal," so I suppose it's time to take advantage of the experience while it is still around. After all, nonchalantly telling friends back home at a dinner party that you rode to work every day in Maputo in a regular bus really doesn't have the wow-factor of saying you were shoved in a Hiace with 25 other passengers, someone else's snotty baby on your lap, a chicken between your feet (not yours either, of course), and the guy who makes change discreetly trying to cop a feel while you struggle to the front of the vehicle after having yelled "Paragem!" in a desperate attempt to get the bloody thing to stop within walking distance of your destination.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Relaxing Thoughts
I have been so swamped with work lately - not to mention the stressful process of buying the house - that I need to find a few minutes to relax amid the chaos. Here are some photos from my archives that hopefully will lull me into peace.
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Sunday, August 02, 2009
Home Is Where I Want to Be*
After an insane month of calls with real estate agents and financial institutions, credit checks, lamenting over tax returns and the general feeling of being on a roller coaster 24/7, we did it.
We managed to get a mortgage. The dream home will be ours.
This happpy result is due to the incredibly hard work of Rico, my mom and the brilliant broker and agent we ended up working with. It is also thanks to the phenomenal generosity of our families, who put 100% of their time and resources up to help us make this a reality.
We have the closing scheduled in about 10 days, and the actual move-in will take place on September 23rd. From then, it is on to the fun part: decorating!
*from my absolute favorite song of all times, "This Must Be the Place" by Talking Heads
We managed to get a mortgage. The dream home will be ours.
This happpy result is due to the incredibly hard work of Rico, my mom and the brilliant broker and agent we ended up working with. It is also thanks to the phenomenal generosity of our families, who put 100% of their time and resources up to help us make this a reality.
We have the closing scheduled in about 10 days, and the actual move-in will take place on September 23rd. From then, it is on to the fun part: decorating!
*from my absolute favorite song of all times, "This Must Be the Place" by Talking Heads
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