Moving right along

I was out in the districts this week. Here's the play by play:

1/12/2009
Today was the first day of traveling to the northern districts to collect clinic data. It was about a 6 ½ hour drive to Gile through beautiful rolling hills that are bright green from the rain we’ve been having. We arrived at Adi’s house to find that he had electricity (I was pleasantly surprised), but no running water. Come to find out that the reason why we have electricity is because there is a meeting today of the Gile government officials, so they turn on the electricity for the town so they can run their a/c. Also found out there hasn’t been water for 3 days and nobody knows when it’ll start working again. Can we say hammer and sickle much?

Sara, Sergio, and I went to the health center to “be presented” to the DDS (the head doctor for Gile). A rather unpleasant and aggressive man who not so kindly informed us that although we have 572 pieces of documentation for our research project that have been signed by every government official from Cabo Delgado to Maputo, we don’t have the documentation that he wants. Apparently we have government “approval” but we don’t have “authorization.” Oops. Obviously one needs to get authorization after being approved. I mean, how else will the authorities know that I’ve been through the bureaucratic ringer? After that lovely meeting, I taught Sara and Sergio the word, ‘crapweasel.’

On a positive note, Adi has a guava tree! So all is not lost. And I might venture down to the river this evening to try to get a glimpse of a crocodile. So between the delicious guavas and potential crocodile spotting, life is good.

1/13/2009
Ok, so we’ve received the DDS’s blessing, although he made it quite clear that he’s not pleased with our lack of documentation. After popping by the clinic, Sara and I took a stroll through the market. Between the room filled with drying fish (and flies), and the adjacent room filled with severed goat heads (and flies), I think I might take a pass on lunch.

Focus group went well and afterwards, Sara, Emilio, and I walked down to the Molocue River to enjoy the view. It was beautiful! Kind of turbulent reddish-brown water with tall grass on either side. Mt. Gile was in the distance, and a wonderful thunderstorm was rumbling in. Didn’t see a crocodile, but hey, you win some you lose some.

1/14/2009
So the empregado who works for Adi almost burned down the house last night. Turns out candles and wicker tables covered in flammable cloth don’t mix. I walked into the empty living room to see a candle tipped over and the table going up in flames. Luckily my Smokey the Bear training came in handy and I screamed, “fire,” which nobody understood because they don’t speak English, and then I reached for my trusty water bottle and put out the flames. This could have been potentially bad for a couple reasons: 1.Gile doesn’t have a fire department…but they do have a jenky looking tribunal where I no doubt would have been convicted of arson and incarcerated. 2.Gile doesn’t have running water. And yes, I am a master of bucket baths if you were wondering. 3.There was a giant gas tank in the house that powered the stove. But thanks to my trusty nalgene bottle and my girlish shriek (which nobody responded to), crisis was averted.

We arrived in Alto Molocue this morning and went to the district administration office to present ourselves to the guy who basically functions like the mayor. It was like entering Oz, and the deputy administrator was the wizard. Seriously, we (Sara, Sergio, and I—tin man, scarecrow, and Dorothy) had to sit in the waiting room for him to invite us into his office which was sealed off by 20-foot high wooden doors. I fully anticipated hearing a booming voice declare, “you may enter!”
Administrator: And what do you want, little foreign girl?
Me: I just want to do my research, your Excellency.
Admin: You only have 742 pages documenting your approval. Do you fancy me a fool?!
Me: No sir, your most awesomest administrator. What do I have to do to collect my data in your wonderful district?
Admin: Bring me back the broomsti….I mean a letter signed by the deputy physician of this province. Only then will I speak to you and potentially allow you to carry out your project.

And so our adventure continued. Turns out we were able to play the “my father is the head of FGH” card. Sara doesn’t like to, but when backed in a corner, we’ll come out with the big guns. And just like that, we were given the green light to commence with our research in Molocue. The focus group went well, and the three of us had a lovely dinner at a Mozambican truck stop. No joke. Like an American truck stop, only they didn’t have delicious pie. (sidenote: why do truck stops always have the best pies?) Alto Molocue is on the major highway that runs to the province of Nampula. So the three of us ate dinner surrounded by a bunch of burly truck drivers. And now we’re working on transcribing and translating the data from today, as well as killing the millions of cockroaches that call our motel home.

1/16/2009
Ok, so I’m back in Quelimane. We left Alto Molocue yesterday and arrived in Ile to hopefully bust through with our focus group in the same day and then head back home early the following day. Things didn’t quite go as planned, but we’re trying to work in rural Mozambique, so that’s kind of to be expected. None the less, things panned out well and we were able to get our data collected today, and then head home early afternoon.

My new favorite word: trovoada. Meaning: thunderstorms. Every night this week, we had amazing thunder and lightning, but fortunately not much rain. After a long day of work in the Mozambican heat, there’s nothing better than kicking up your feet and watching a storm roll in over the hills.

Funny thing I realized: I’m working in tiny little rural towns that often don’t have running water or electricity, but they do have functioning cell phone towers. No joke. Driving in, I noticed a woman working in machamba (the subsistence farming fields), talking on her cell phone. About 25% of the population suffers from moderate malnutrition, people have to pump water from the neighborhood well, but they can send text messages.

I had a long, important, and probably life-changing discussion with Sergio (one of my research assistants) about Brian Adams. Yes, Brian Adams the singer. One of the most perplexing things about this country is that Mozambicans LOVE Brian Adams. Why? I have no idea. But Sergio insists that it is all very simple. They just like his sound.

I love buying mystery produce. On the way home we made a pit-stop in Nicoadala to buy pineapples and there were these cute little kids selling bags of berry-like fruit, so of course I bought 2 giant bags…you know, there were two kids so I had to buy from both of them. Kind of like you have to buy lemonade from all the little lemonade stands in your neighborhood, just to be fair. Anyway, I bought about 4 kilos of what looks like a cross between a grape and an olive. Jorge, our driver, totally got a kick out of me buying stuff that I’ve never heard of or tried. So these grape things are called jamboão, and they kind of have the texture of a grape but they taste like a cross between a tart grape and a pine tree. Sort of like eating grapes and taking a swig of gin. And they have a pit. I definitely like them more than the cashew fruit. But I think ata is still my favorite of the “what is that, and is it edible” class of fruit.

We’re supposed to go to Lugela on Monday and Tuesday, but we can’t go without that other oh so important piece of governmental approval that seems to elude us. Troy asked the official to sign it today, but they said no and that we’re to come back next week and they’ll consider it again. Why did they say no? Because they’re in a position of authority, so they can. Flexing their muscles. Hammer and sickle. Bem vindo a Moçambique!