Above and beyond...

In response to your requests for pictures of my new little home, here is my humble offering:

Here is my tent. You can see The General parked in the carport. You can also see a few of the darling little flower boxes that Amadeo, one of the farm staff, made around my tent. I asked him to plant a few vines by some trees and came home at the end of the day to six flower bloxes all around my tent. I have planted them full of flowers and am so excited for them to bloom.

Thanks, Amadeo! I think I am spelling your name wrong...sorry.

Here is where the magic happens. Mr. and Mrs. Perry, a wonderful and lovely couple who attend my church, helped me out a ton when I was getting ready to come to Mozambique. Seriously, it was actually a ton worth of help. They gave me all these do-dads that connect to a car battery. Lights, fans, an electical outlet. The light is so great, and the fans are necessary to survival.

Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Perry! You have blessed me immensely.

Here's a picture of my bed...and my tiny, life-giving fans...and my vintage motorcycle helmet...and the coverlet and throw cushion that I brought from Canada to make my tent feel cozy.

Here's the beginning of my shelving unit. Those bricks were seriously heavy, but I was seriously motivated to make a shelf, so it worked out great.



And here is my shelf in all it's glory! Gabriel, our carpenter, made me nice shelves out of lovely wood when all I asked for were a couple of planks.

Amadeo, the Perry's, Gabriel.

They really went above and beyond.

Thanks!

Hope you enjoyed the tour.

Yum...

The fruit in our lychee orchard is ripe and ready for harvest.

It is my first experience with fresh lychees.

They are a lovely color.

Their taste is delicious.

But if you eat them in bulk, they corode the inside of your mouth.

Worth it.

I'll be down in the orchard if you need me.

Waking up is hard to do...

I was snuggled in bed this morning, mentally calculating just how many more times I could hit my snooze button, when some intriguing noises outside my tent banished any lingering traces of drowsiness.

I peered through my window and saw not one, not three, but four baboons in front of my tent. Jumping into trees and running about. I tried to take a picture, but once I started moving around in my tent they headed for the hills.

They were probably taking turns pretending to ride on The General while I was off in dreamland, the little scamps.

Mailing address...

A number of people have asked about how to get mail to me here in Mozambique, so here is the info:

I can receive mail through a box in Nelspruit, South Africa. Here is the addy.

Keren Massey

c/o Dwight Lagore

Suite 531

Private Bag x11340

NelspruitSouth Africa, 1200

Send items via airmail. Regular mail may take an extraordinarily long time to get here, as in, I might be gone before it arrives..

This mail box probably won't be checked again until January/February, just so you know. If you are wanting to mail me things for Christmas, mail them now! That increases my chances of getting them early in the new year.

There is also a DHL about an hour from where I live, but from what I hear it costs an obscene amount to send things via DHL so please, unless you are mailing me a kidney for transplantation, don't use it. I am a very patient waiter. Christmas in February sounds fabulous to me!

My wish list reads as following:

Tea!

Tea!

Glorious tea!

Tea of every flavour!

Beef jerky?

Crayola pencil crayons

Anything else you can think of that can sit for a few months and not grow mold or a personality

Of course, there is always good oldfashioned e-mail as well. My address is:

keren.massey@hotmail.com

Thanks for the love, youz guyz.

What month is it, Mr. Wolf?

Today I bought a tiny, artificial Christmas tree at the grocery store. I am forcing myself not to set it up until December 1. I hear that you can also buy Christmas lights around here that are shaped like corn cobs. Wouldn't I have the snazziest tent around?

Here is a picture of my Christmas tree from last year. The ornaments were attached with dental floss and we had to nail it in place. Our house in Uganda was a little...grimy, and no amount of tape could make anything stick to the walls.

Hopefully all the Christmas decorations will help me remember that it is not July or August. I keep getting confused by the weather. It happens regularly and then I do embarrassing things like set off 4th of July sparklers or wax eloquent about how the leaves back in Canada will be starting to turn in a few weeks. Sometimes I have to carefully explain to people that I am book smart, not smart smart. There is an important difference.

They do exist...

I have this little problem. Actually, it's not so little- it's an exaggerated startle reflex. If something scares me I kind of flip out. I can't control it. It's almost like I have an out-of-body experience every time it happens. My reaction to being startled has, in the past, been compared to a cartoon character. You know, arms and legs flying everywhere, jumping eight feet off the ground, eyes bugging out, etc.

When I get startled I also let out a blood curdling scream. It usually sounds something like, "AHWHAKKAHAKKAHOEYHOEY!" It happens every time.

I have been startled a few times since I got to Mozambique, usually when I look down and something like a giant stick bug is clinging to my shirt and grinning up at me. I scream and it echoes all through the campsite, over the river and possibly into Zimbabwe. It's really embarrassing.

Bugs are just so sneaky. I have started a catch and release program for the bugs in my tent, but not all of them qualify.

The other night I was over at Rick and Heather's house and Heather told me that Glenn (another short-termer who really likes Spam and went home yesterday) was sitting in our kitchen when he was startled by a Black Mamba. I had to panic a little and scream, "AHWHAKKAHAKKAHOEYHOEY!" in my head. I crept around our kitchen on my tippy-toes for days.

Today I was walking back to my tent at lunch time. I heard a big "thwack" as something smacked onto the roof of my tent and fell to the ground. I saw a tail wiggle under my doormat. "That is either a very long skink," I thought to myself, "Or else...it's a...". I inched closer for a better look. Out from my doormat wriggled my first snake. A real snake. A real one. It was startling, but strangely enough, there were no screams. Perhaps I was frozen in terror.

Do you remember those old Christmas M&M commercials where the M&Ms see Santa and Santa see the M&Ms and they both say, "He does exist!" and then they pass out? That is how I feel. They do exist! Shoot. I ran over to Heather's and told her that I saw a tree snake (I think) by my tent. She reminded me that they are very poisonous but also very shy and have very small fangs way in the back of their mouths. It was very reassuring.

VBS is now over so I am settling into more of what I expect will be my actual routine. Here is a picture of my desk: a laptop; copies of Where Women Have No Doctor, A Book for Midwives, a Child-To-Child Resource Book; and a Lambchop puppet. That gives you a little glimpse into my life these days.



Tomorrow it will be one month since I left chilly Canada. There was one last thing I wanted to mention...what was it now...

Oh...yeah

Long exhale, short inhale...

(The General seeks shelter under a mango tree during a late afternoon rain.)

I wasn't feeling so well yesterday, or this morning for that matter.


I was all aches and fever and chills and more aches, and dreading this afternoon.

Part of my preparation for working on the women's health section of the preventative health manual has been meeting with small groups of local women to hear about their concepts of health and disease. A few weeks ago I made an appointment to spend this afternoon with the area's traditional birth attendants, an appointment that I had been looking forward to.

But I felt so gross.

I came home for lunch, demolished an entire carton of frozen juice (a Bush Slurpee, as I like to call it) and then found myself feeling quite well (medication may have also played a role). I jumped on The General and drove into town.

The traditional birth attendants were right on time and eager to talk, all shy smiles and sweet faces. They graciously answered my long list of questions about how they help women in Mucombeze bring their babies into the world.

I wish I would have had someone taking pictures. I think the women here are so beautiful. I love their colorful head coverings and the wild hodge podge of clothing that makes up their attire. The birth attendants looked wonderful sitting against a blue wall in their multicolored clothes with bright orange Fantas in their hands.

I was sitting on a simple brown chair, laptop on my knees, sporting one pair of the oversized earrings I bought on Etsy specifically for Mozambique.

The birth attendants kept expressing an eagerness for more training (well, training at all, they have never had any). And who should arrive midway during our conversation but Senor Da Cruz! This fellow is an adminstrator in the health district and I know him from past immunization campaigns. I had meant to get in touch with him to ask about training for the birth attendants, and...there he was! We chatted, he told me that their were trainings every three months in a city a few hours away and that the government paid for them. All we needed to do was write a letter or recommendation from the mission. This was exciting. I hope it's true.

The birth attendants were watching this little exchange, and after Da Cruz left we went back to our conversation. At the end of our time I asked the women if they would be interested in training and they responded with an enthusiatic yes. But...they could only go in April once they were done tending to their crops.

Fine, I said. In the mean time would you like to meet every few weeks and have classes here with me?
Tell us when to be here, they said, and we'll be here.

I'm so excited.

So, first order of business: get these women some gloves to wear during delivery! They don't have any protective equipment at all and could only tell me some very vague facts about HIV/AIDS. I think that will be one of the first lessons.

Second order of business: Have regular training sessons with the birth attendants.

Third order of business: Get these women off to school!

Or course, I need to run this by my superiors...and find out if these trainings actually exist.

Here's hoping.

After my afternoon with the birth attendants I went to the community leader's house and taught him how to use his new puffer. Oh, lands. It was so funny. It took a while but I think he got it.

In the meantime, a midafternoon rain storm blew in and The General sought shelter under a tree with the required crowd of small children crowding curiously around him. He is more popular than me, I think. Ah, well. You can't win them all.