A cheerful and frosted hello to everyone.

You may be reading this thinking to yourself, frosted, no way. Surely she must be using her extreme wit and excellent comedic timing to put a smile on my face. Oh no. If only I was. The past, say, twenty hours have been cold cold cold. It certainly doesn't help that I have only my Chacos to keep my toes toasty warm, but in general my entire body has been cold. So there you go. It's like a little slice of Michigan. But on to more positive things from the week.

This week was Mozambican Election Week Extravaganza!!! Which, for me, means that Wednesday people were up very early to see me running, and that my little siblings didn't have school. And one thing I learned on Wednesday, which was Election Day, is that 13 year olds the world over like to listen to bad rap music way too loud on bad speakers. In my little sister Samia's case, it is poor quality Portuguese rap music from the family TV. At seven in the morning. Which was enjoyable, until I had to sit next to the TV for my morning Riccoffy (Thank you Nestle for that freshly percolated “taste”). Just another learning experience. Election week also meant that I got to see a little slice of how elections take place here in Mozambique. Which is as follows:

People go to election stations and they receive a regular sized piece of printer paper. This is their ballot, and for the presidential ballot there are three pictures (color and nicely sized and detailed) of the three candidates, with their party logo, and their names. Just mark and X next to the best looking man, or party logo, or the person you find most qualified and fold the paper. Deposit said paper in, what seemed to me, an unsecured plastic box (but that may be different as I'm only going by what I saw on the nightly news). Then, for counting, one person takes out the ballot, says the name of the elected candidate, hands it to another person to display to the room, and then sets it in a pile on the floor. So that, I think, is why results won't be out until next week.

So that was that. And officials from the UN came to ensure a fair election, and so far the country has been calm, so here's to hoping I'll be staying for the next two years. If not, get ready mom and dad because back we'll come.

Election Week meant one more thing for me: PERMACULTURE! What is that, you may be asking. Well, let me tell you. When you cross permanent and agriculture you get the beauty of the Permaculture garden. Which is a beautiful thing, when it isn't put together over two days in the rain and fifty degree weather. But the Peace Corps very nicely shipped in a Permaculture expert for us and we got a two day workshop on how, essentially, to put together very efficient gardens for ourselves and our communities when we get to site. I learned about plant spacing, companion plants (maize and pumpkin, which will make next year's thanksgiving awesome), and controlling water. I'm excited to have my own garden, but it's also a lot about educating people on how to gain food security with the greatest efficiency and lowest energy output. It was great, and kept all of us PCT's in an old colonial compound for two days which, we found, is heavily guarded by about 15 mean sounding dogs from 9:00 pm on.

So now I'm off to watch my first movie on my fun little netbook, technology permiting. Well, it's going to be The Tudors, actually. And if anyone can figure out how I'm going to keep up with The Office, 30 Rock, and Top Chef please let me know.

So I take my leave with this wise, Mozambican proverb:
Each animal with their own fur.

So hi to all of you lovely people.
This week was a big week. First I want to acknowledge that yes, with absolute certainty I tell you that my Mae is pregnant. If I had any more doubts, which I did, they were solved with my entire language class telling me today that my Mae is pregnant and how could I even question it. So mozeltov to Mae Ricardina, and I may have a tiny new sister in the coming months. We'll see. Hopefully the Baby Daddy is around once or twice more in the next seven weeks, which is what I have until site placement!!

In the meantime, I've been spending my days in a very predictable way, but has, apparently and unknowingly, brought me to the top of my language class. Today for language, our groups just cooked, which was good for Portuguese when the moms actually spoke in it. They tended to revert to Shangaan, which we PCT's felt gave us leave to speak together in English, which in turn didn't help our Portuguese. But you win some, you lose some. Lunch was three hours in the making and included matapa, which is cooked with ground leaves, peanut flour, coconut milk and oil, and various vegetable flavors. It also had couve which I love and reminds me a bit of broccoli. I think they may be vegetable cousins.
And then the topper! Fish! Which I didn't eat, but I did gut! I figured if I have visitors in the next two years I should at least know how to prepare fish, if not chicken too. So I cut me up some fish. I have to say, my knife skills are coming along nicely.

Anyway, during this cooking/talking class my language teacher said I was doing very well in class. Which I'm not sure how to take, since she isn't the strongest language teacher i've ever encountered. But I'll take it.

Before lunch we had our health class, and today was a session featuring two PLWHA (people living with HIV/AIDS). One woman, one man. I have to say, some of what they shared with us was a bit surprising. Well, just on the man's side. He is HIV positive, as well as his wife, and has all the education about ARV's that he's on, about transmission to children as well as transmission on varying strains of HIV between the two of them. And yet he insists on not protecting his wife or himself, claiming trust, and of needing to have two boys in the future to ensure his family legacy. Really. I know there are a lot of steps a family can take to reduce the chance of PTCT (parent to child transmission), but wow. It says a lot when two HIV positive, poverty stricken people are that insistent on trying for a male child. The resistance to protection between partners is also something to be angry and desperate about. The man is ill, and has been That was why he was tested in the first place. And yet, a simple step is thrown out the window due to the cultural practices and slight preferences of Mozambique's patriarchal society. One day. We'll get 'em one day.

We took a field-trip through the mud this week. It had rained for the past several days, leaving my sandals looking more like platforms, since the mud is all clay and that will stick to shoes like Xima sticks to ribs. We tracked 26 pairs of muddy shoes to the hospital and say what a secondary level hospital looks like. Small. Clean, but small. The infrastructure is clearly lacking, but the staff was very warm and what was available was clean and efficient. And the hospital is connected with support groups for the area, which they recommend and utilize, so it is better than many other hospitals at that level. In Moz, there are four levels of health facilities: primary, which are health posts, secondary which are small hospitals, tertiary which are provincial hospitals, and then quartile, of which there technically is only one, in Maputo. So it was nice to preview the type of facility I will probably be very well acquainted with.

Well, the power has already gone out once tonight, so I'm going to finish my book and end this crazy Friday night at a prompt 9:30pm.

Book to Read:
28: Stories of AIDS in Africa

Kbye!

PS
I just successfully wrote the entry at home, put it on my flashdrive, and got it here. You have NO idea how many times I tried doing it before. I'm a computer genius!

So, today will be a bit short because the man that runs the internet cafe is looking at me very suspiciously because i was squirming, trying to decide if i should ask for a bathroom, and i think maybe he thinks iºm on drugs or something equally suspicious. He is standing now, looking at me. Great impression.

Anyway, some exciting news. In just a few weeks i will be traveling to an unknown destination in Moz to visit a PCV site. This could be in the north of the country, in which case i will be flown, or just nearby. Depending on where they think i would like to see. So that is neat. Hopefully the elections will not cause any problems with it.

In other news, my family recently expanded to include my cute 3 year old host-sister, which we call Mae, i think. And mae means mom. So, that was a little confusing at first. Especially since her name is actually Tanya. Anyway, she is in from Maputo, to spend some time away from the big city living and with us country folk. She is super cute, super curious, and i am pretty sure she smiles 90% of the time. I did notice she does not smile when sleeping, and she does not sleep much so that accounts for the 10% she does not smile.

Have you noticed i am not using any contractions? Perhaps by my next entry i will have discovered the appostrophe on these forsaken keyboards. Or maybe i will just have sentences that are a little bit longer.

My mom recently introduced me to her boyfriend, so that was a nice family moment. In Mozambique it is very common and culturally expected for men to have women, sort of on the side. Anyway, Mae (the real mae) told me her boyfriend is married, and i could not help but notice that it is not to her. So that will spark some excellent conversations as soon as my Portuguese is up to snuff.

I visited the beautiful, coveted waterfalls. Ahem. I mean, rocks where, if there were water, it would be able to fall off of beautifully. It is the end of the dry season, so the two hour walk was rewarded by some great cliffs.

Today I was able to make my little brother smile at me for the first time. Apparently all it takes is a digital camera to be HILARIOUS. So now my popularity with little Kevin has increased tenfold, which is good since I was getting used to the idea that i would just get scowls and a forced "boa noite" from him.

Next week will be the start of our community projects. I will be assessing what a group in the community needs and how to provide it, essentially. It is something really small, like teaching some kids how to cough into your elbow, or to brush your teeth. Making a difference, one toothbrush at a time.

So, for now I will leave you with a popular myth in Moz:

HIV came from America and Americans intentionally spread it to Mozambique.

Hi everybody that i miss and even the ones I don't.
Just kidding. I'm sure I miss everyone that would know to come here and check up on me. So how are you all doing? I'm very eager to hear about your exciting lives because things have become a bit boring on my end. But just in case you want to know a little of my happenings, here I go.

About a week and a half ago I moved into my host family's house. It is at an undisclosed location in Mozambique and let me add quite lovely. We're in a sort of smaller town and in a few choice neighborhoods. My house is snug and cement, with a facy sort of chimney latrine. Not bad at all. I have my own room, with locks on the door and bars on the windows and so trust that i am very safe.

I have now fully kicked my five cups of coffee a day habit as well as any sugar habit i may have had. However, don't think i've gone terribly healthy. The ole' Moz diet is a lot of carbs and fats to keep up the energy of a physically intense day. The only downside? My day isn't physically intense. Unless you count how hard my brain works to understand things.

I'm learning a lot of things I never knew about HIV/AIDS, Mozambique in general (did you know that a lobolo is a sort of reverse dowry still in practice?), and how quickly my calves can navigate rocky terrain and hills when i'm running late in the morning.

I have a cell phone now, as you may or may not know. And I have a tv in my house as well as a dvd player, so if you want to send portuguese dvds i'm sure my family would love to have them. Or 90's rock/smooth jazz, micheal jackson, or contemporary rap or R&B.

Oh. My host-family here. It is a little confusing to me and will probably be even more confusing to you. Suffice to say that I now live with six people, three of whom are kids ages 3, 8, 13. My three year old family member just joined us and she is very very cute. But, apparently, mute to me. Or, really, she is shy and doesn't speak much Portuguese. Instead, she speaks shangala, which is the popular local dialect that most kids speak until school.

Well, there is a line of PCV's out the door to use this single computer in the internet cafe, so this is all for now.

But remember, when it comes to landmines in Mozambique there is a simple rule. If you didn't drop it, don't pick it.