Estamos Juntos

I would like to wish all of you the happiest holidays possible, with your friends, families and love ones.

I was hoping to put up another post detailing some more of my interesting work activities, as well as an interesting experience at the post-offices here trying to pick up my first package from abroad (thank Mom and Dad for the gift).

Unfortunately, it has been quite the rough week for my family. Last Friday I received news that my dear maternal grandmother had suffered a stroke and was in hospital back in Portugal. This of course shook my family hard, and my parents made plans to travel to Portugal to be by her side for the holidays. This meant that for the first time in our lives we would all be spending Christmas apart (parents in Portugal, my brothers together in Canada, and I here in Mozambique).

On Wednesday this week , shortly after my Mother arrived to be by her mother's side, my grandmother passed away. Needless to say we are all very broken by her passing, and being unable to be all together through these difficult times only adds to our sadness.

I cannot imagine the pain my sweet Mother must be going through and only wish i could be there to comfort her sorrow. I do not like feeling pity for myself, but I feel powerless and quite alone. Sometimes we are so caught up in living our own lives that we forget how every moment we are on this earth is so temporary, so precious. Just the weekend before her stroke I tried calling and received an international busy signal. I did not attempt to call back as I had made plans for dinner. I will be eternally regretful to have been so selfish. I had not made the effort to go back to see her in 6 years. Where does the time go?

To those who knew her, she was the sweetest old lady there was, who only had love in her heart for her family. We were everything to her, and she was so proud of us in everything we did. Not comprehending exactly what I was doing in Mozambique she took pride in thought that I was somehow saving the world (or at least it is how it felt when I talked to her). She was incredibly proud that I had embarked in a career that was focused on helping people. It pained her to be away from us for so long, and not see us during the holidays. We never appreciate the people who love us most in our lives until they are gone.

I had plans to get away for the holidays as I had mentioned. Unfortunately, they feel through just recently, and now I am facing the prospect of spending Christmas alone. I have not yet decided what I may do. There is a lot weighing on my mind right now (familial loss, the impending end of my time here, my future after Mozambique, and the future of my relationship).

I may just take off in my car and drive. No destinations, no plans, no expectations. For those of you who know me well, you know that this would be very uncharacteristic of me. Than again, I have been feeling much unlike myself lately. Perhaps it is the process of change and adaptation finally sinking in. Who knows?

One thing for sure. To any one who read this, and to all others, I wish you a all the best during the festive season. You will all be in my heart and thoughts.

As they say around here, "Estamos Juntos" - we are all together.

Aaaaaaaaand Back.............

Hmmm. Well it seems that even with the best of intentions it is difficult to stay devoted to keeping this updated. The trick has to be smaller posts more frequently. So I hope to switch to that strategy soon.

But now I find myself in a dilemma. It has been effectively over two months since I have posted anything, and over this period sooooooooooooooooo much has happened. It would be foolish of me to launch into a retelling of all my adventures. And at the mount I really am not feeling like being nostalgic.

Probably the most important bits of news to share were that after the crazy busy month of August, September and October, I was finally rewarded with some well deserved time off. But not before I was sent to Nairobi Kenya to represent my country office at a conference on Armed Violence and Development. The experience was amazing, and I had the wonderful opportunity to see a bit of new country (though I spent most of my time in conference proceedings in this very nice golf resort outside of town). Kat was able to join me, which made the experience all the more wonderful. We met up with a friend from our time in graduate school, Anne who was very hospitable and oriented us around town. We had many adventures for such a short time including a crazy ride in a Mu-ta-to (Chapa/Kambi they have different names everywhere) which had a TV screen playing misogynistic rap videos, a return flight from Joburg to Maputo that took 18 hours (usually take one) with weather delays, dangerous landing attempts, crazy flying, diversion to Beira, and an overnight sleep on an airport terminal floor, plus much more pleasant episodes that would take too much time to retell.

Upon our return to Maputo Kat and I almost immediately re-packed out stuff and headed on our planned vacation/road trip. It is well documented in photos on Facebook. We went to some amazing beaches, stayed in some amazing places, saw spectacular sunrises and sunsets, snorkeled amongst tropical fish in massive and beautiful coral reefs, swam with a sea turtle, went on an island sail away tour, relax on deserted island beaches, and had our breath taken away several times while we enjoyed the beauty of our surroundings. We are very lucky people. The stories are endless to tell (we even had a small exciting adventure with a tire blowout on a deep sand road which through coordinated team work we got out on in just over 30 minutes) and will best be described when I see you all.

Sadly the end of the road trip also marked the end of Kat and Bruno in Mozambique. We realized in early October that with the Kat having to renew her visa in Joburg, the trip to Nairobi and then our road trip in November, Kat had very little time to organize her stuff, pack up, and enjoy Maputo. But she is amazing at that stuff and did in 3 cumulative days what would probably take most of us weeks. We returned from our road trip to enjoy our two last days together in Maputo (which were busy with last minute shopping, packing and goodbyes from friends). It was then off to Joburg, where we spent our last few days together, including a wonderful morning/ afternoon at the Apartheid Museum, and an evening of cocktails. As always, it was sad to see Kat go. The hectic schedules and planning pretty much ensured that time flew by quick. It is amazing that it had been 5 months since she had moved in with me. We said our goodbyes with knowledge that she would be back in just over two months for a staff meeting in South Africa. Regardless it is never easy when you have adapted to having someone there next to you day in and day out. It was a wonderful experience that I will always treasure. Thank You Kat.

I set myself on the path back to Maputo from the airport. The weather matched my somber mood (pathetic fallacy at its best) and I soon found myself in a horrible thunderstorm (it is rainy season ;). People here drive like maniacs and a little water was not going to change that. I managed to avoid being obliterated by an 18 wheeler that lost control and veered into my lane from on coming traffic. I instinctively and luckily steered off into an off ramp. I fear the people following close behind were not as lucky. After driving around lost for about 2 minutes I found the highway and was soon in Nelspruit where I stayed the weekend with a friend. I spent the weekend with his family, which made me miss mine all the more.

I arrived in Maputo two days later to an empty apartment. Since then it has been work work work. Nothing that I hoped would be followed up on was remotely moving forward. So I spent the fist week playing damage control. I have been working 10 hour days every day. Adjusting to life without Kat has been a challenge, as I could always count on having someone to go to dinner with, chat with, watch a movie, or just hang out. The stress of work (I am now running three projects) combined with a sense of sadness did not make me a pleasant site. I also realize that I am entering my 9th month, and I figure that I seriously ready to come back home for a while. I could sense the same feeling in Kat over the last couple of months (especially since she moved around a lot more than I). It is exhausting, and as much as we may like it sometime, it still fundamentally does not feel like home.

I have decided to make some positive changes in my life to curb some of the boredom and negative disposition. Crazy as it seems, I have taken on some more responsibility at work, heading up a small task group that is part of a larger task force preparing for the Regional Meeting of Country Resident Representatives to be held in March. I have also been drafting and assisting in several proposals for new projects. It is hard to keep up with everything. When I get home at night, all I want to do is collapse, and hence the lack of posts over the last couple of weeks.

I plan to spend my Christmas and NYE at a beach in Tofo. Going with my friend Luke and it should be good times. Next week I have to do some project monitoring visits with my supervisor in northern Mozambique. I am excited about getting to see more of the country, especially the north. By the time I return I will be on holidays, coming back on January 2nd. Life will be, as always hectic. I have also decided to begin to be more active in the physical department and will be going back to the gym in January. I must thank Kat for the motivation to join one while she was here, I hope I can make it last. I feel like it give me more energy, and that is exactly what I need more of right now.

Well, I hope to post one more time before heading off on vacation, but no guarantees. Soo anyone who still bothers to check the site, if I do not get a chance to say it before then,

FELIZ NATAL e um FELIZ ANO NOVO!!!

And Breathe......

INHALE!!! HOLD!!! EXHALE!!!
INHALE!!! HOLD!!! EXHALE!!!

Oh the wonders of meditative breathing on the stressful soul. Works wonders, as long as you are not near Maputo harbour during low tide ;).

At this very moment, I am at Mundos (a popular, sometimes irritating expat pub restaurant), taking a much deserved break (with an extra long 4 day weekend). It is truly a chance to relax, breathe and take it all in, before the pace of life gets turned up another notch.

The project evaluation that had occupied the majority of my time and energy over the last month, along with a slew of other work related activities, came to an end on Wednesday of this week with a very important meeting involving ministers, ambassadors, the top UN representative in Mozambique and the head of the Police, among many others. I am pleased to say that it all went smoothly and was received very positively. The team that we contracted put together a high quality, not to mention lengthy (97 pages) report with over 15 recommendations that do not shy away from the controversial. However, it seemed to satisfy all parties involved and create a much needed space for positive and progressive dialogue. My project colleagues at the Police and I took a deep sigh of relief and satisfaction at the overall success of the mission, before I noted to all present "you know what this means right? Now we have to follow through on what was started, which means much more work to come." Aside from the obvious editing, translation, printing/ reproduction and distribution of the report; the much more important work of trying to address all the challenges and implement the recommendations included in it is what will now be the most important challenge in the remaining time i have here. Interestingly for me, there was a strong emphasis and general agreement that the position that I have occupied for the last 7 months should be continued, and its role expanded (whether that will mean that I continue to occupy this position for the years to come will depend on a number of factors that will not be fully clear until early next year I believe, so we will continue to wait and see).

October, will afford me little additional rest as the project on Legal Empowerment is schedule to conclude in the coming weeks, which when added to a number of other ongoing activities will surely mean additional long days and more meditative breathing exercises ;). However, it looks like October may end in an exciting fashion as I have been tapped to represent our Country Office at a conference on Armed Violence and Development in Nairobi Kenya. I still do not have the full details, but am very excited at the prospect of spending a week in Nairobi, and am discussing with Kat the possibility of having her join me there.

She is scheduled to depart this continent and return home at the end of November, but not before we take a couple of weeks off (most of November in fact) to go on a beaching road trip. I expect that the next couple of months will fly by much like August and September did, only this time with much less work related hair loss ;).

I can't wait to be taking deep breaths of fresh ocean air for a change....INHALE!!!HOLD........

Time Marches On...

Well promises made but not kept hehehe. At least I can confidently say that it was not a lack of motivation that has kept me from posting. I have been using most of my motivational strength to keep my head above water this past month.

As if scripted in some dark comedy of my life, the major activities that I have been tasked with in the two projects I have been given responsibility for have decided to coincide – meaning long, stressful, often frantic days trying to accomplish the most possible in the least amount of time given. Frustration does not adequately describe work life from day to day. It is hard to feel accomplished when it seems like you move from resolving one problem to resolving the next, only to have the first one resurface. There are many parts of my job that I enjoy greatly and feel like I can comfortably say that I am good at. However, there are others that I just can’t seem to get right. Asking for support becomes difficult when the expectations are quite high. But all I can do is try my best.

Luckily, home life provides much needed relief and escape, all be it too short given the long days. Kat has been wonderful as always listening to my venting rants with much patience. I try to use my weekends productively for travel and relaxation, going for a camping and beach weekend and most recently a return visit to Swaziland. We have also carved out quite the social circle here, including some Canadian friends. There is always something to do or someone to hang out with for the most part. The problem is finding the time and energy.

I recently joined a gym with Kat so that we can get into better shape (especially with the real good weather to come). It also helps in unwinding from work; though the motivation is hard to come by sometimes (luckily the price of membership is quite the incentive). The facilities are very nice and have lots to offer, but factoring a daily visit into the schedule can be tricky and has meant I am often rushing from work to home, and from home to the gym, or grocery shopping.

I guess it is all about routine and balance. With time perhaps it will become ‘normal’ and the stress will either become familiar or bearable. It is amazing how quickly these past months have come and gone.

Time marches on my friends. I will post again soon.

The Challenge....

I am often asked what I am doing in Mozambique. The short answer is usually Police Reform with the UNDP. But I find that explanation obscures the reality of the challenge at hand.

Police reform occurs everywhere, even in the most developed of nations. The role of those mandated with the responsibility of public safety and security evolves with the society that they serve. Many factors come into play, not least of which the nature of the state's political arrangement and its socio-economic condition. These are as unique to Mozambique as they are in other places.

I do not have the time or the expertise at this point to attempt an amateur explanation of the condition in which Mozambique finds itself. Moreover, any version I can give you here would be oversimplified. So instead I decided to post a recent article found in a daily online news brief that is circulated among the international community here. I consider it fair and balanced.

However, you must note that the news story presented here is much more complex than it appears, and that there are numerous views, theories, and angles which have some credibility found in various media publications in this country. Unfortunately they are all in Portuguese. Regardless, given my position here it is best that I do not appear to promote any particular position.

Thus what follows stands as an example of what is becoming the reality here in Maputo.

MURDERED POLICE OFFICERS WERE BETRAYED

Maputo, 20 Aug (AIM) - The Mozambican Police (PRM) believes that a leak of information, and possibly treason, were behind the brutal murder of an unfortunate trio of plain clothes police officers, who were killed in Maputo on Friday, when they were sprayed with a hail of AK-47 assault rifles bullets by a gang of yet unidentified criminals.

The assassins are still at large. The incident was reported around 11:30 PM at the Av. de Angola, in front of a branch of the Banco Austral, in the vicinity of the Maputo International Airport.

The trio was part of the “Rio Brigade”, a PRM special unit to deal with violent crimes, and have been identified as Gilberto Mondlane, Luís Cuco, and António Paulo.

However, the police claim to be in the possession of the identity of the gang that committed this murder, and also of another gang that shot at one police officer in a separate incident at the neighbourhood of Zona Verde, outskirts of the Maputo, in the Matola municipality on the early hours of Saturday.

As for this last incident, the police officer, whose identity was not disclosed, was hit on his leg and stomach, and had to undergo a surgery at the Maputo Central Hospital (HCM). He is reported to be in the Intensive Care Unit.

According to the police, someone within the police force may have tipped off the criminals on the route being used by the 'Rio Brigade' trio, during their patrol mission.

Then, the gang followed the police vehicle to the scene of the crime, where they opened fire, killing the driver. The uncontrolled vehicle drifted along the road, coming to a stand still after crashing against a fixed obstacle.

With the vehicle immobilized, the criminals jumped out from their car while shooting at the police officers.

Caught by surprise, the unfortunate trio had no time to return fire. The criminals really meant to kill. Inside the vehicle of the deceased, only two pistols were found.

Meanwhile, a police elite unit attended in the Zandamela district, in the southern Inhambane province, over the weekend, the funeral of a criminal known as Abrantes. He was one of the members of the gang of Agostinho Chauque, the most wanted criminal in Mozambique.

Abrantes was shot and burnt alive in the Maputo province, and died at the HCM.

The special unit sent to attend Abrantes funeral, sought to capture Agostinho Chauque and other gang members, who are accused in connection with a spate of crimes, including assassinations, bank robberies and other crimes reported in Maputo in the last few weeks.

Unfortunately for the authorities, the operation did not yield any positive results, because none of the suspects searched by the police featured in the list of wanted criminals.
(AIM)

Eating my words...

You know, I often run my mouth about the things I feel passionate about. I think it is one of the qualities I like most about myself. Hehe. But of course, even when you are arguing fervently a point a view that you believe to be socially just and balance, you run the risk of having to eat your words at a later time.

That is what I am currently doing. But doing it happily.

When I first came here I was already aware that having domestic employees to do the house work and more, was very very common, especially among foreign nationals. However, I was quite determined to not 'get lazy' as I thought of it, and lose the routine of daily and weekly chores that one builds up while living on ones own, by hiring and empregada as they say in Portuguese.

Comments like:

"well that is one of the benefits about living in Mozambique. The cheap hired help";

and

"I am doing my part for poverty alleviation. I pay my empregada USD 50 a month" (for 6 days a week for 10 hours a day for some people);

left a sour impression of this common practice, and made me all the more resolute that I would not add to these seemingly colonial attitudes.

I had little to worry during my first two months as I was staying with a friend, and like it or not, his empregada did all the house work for us both. But now as I have moved and settled into a place of my own with Kat, taken on greater responsibility at work, and Kat is working too, there are many time consuming chores and tasks that take up most of our weekends and after work hours together. Laundry has proved the hardest of tasks, especially since there is double the volume to wash.

So over the last week or so we looked around for domestic help. It is not hard to find here, as there is soo much unemployment (even a friend of mine who I occasionally hang out with asked me if I need house work done). One has to take into consideration questions of mixing friendship with employee / employer relationship; issues of privacy; and trust. So it makes the decision quite difficult at times. However, after canvassing some of our more socially equitable friends we came to an arrangement with one of them so share their empregada. Starting last week, Elena (our empregada's name) will be helping Kat and I with the house work, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She did such an amazing job, much better than either Kat or I could do (and Kat does a great job). And it is a relief to have the place sparkling.

Ultimately, it was the surprising encouragement of my Mother, urging me to give someone work and take stress off ourselves for what does not amount to a great financial sacrifice at all. We have decided to pay her for two days work as much as some pay their empregada for 6 days of work. This gives her the opportunity to supplement her income through additional work.

Kat has also shown much interest in offering her the opportunity to practice some ICT skills through using our internet to search for other job opportunities, open an email account, do research for (the classes she takes), and perhaps she will also pick up some more English from Kat, and give Kat an opportunity to practice communicating in Portuguese.

Personally, it is quite a new and different experience. I am not used to giving people chores to do, and it feels uncomfortable at times to ask someone to wash this, or clean that. I am sure I will adapt, but hope that I never get too comfortable in this arrangement.

Where did the last two months go?

I must admit - for a while there I was wondering if my entire time here at the UNDP would be spent translating documents and attending meetings where I had know idea what was going on. It is remarkable how quickly time passes when your days become quite regimented and the work never seems to stop piling up. I have gotten used to having piles of papers on my desk that keep me company for weeks. During those times where my sanity was wearing thin I began to give them names. Luckily, like with most things in life, you learn to cope.

Overwhelming is a word that I can safely use to describe the sudden burst of activity in my life - especially professionally. Not so much with the volume of work, but more so with the processes and procedures that accompany even the smallest task. I was well informed about the frustrations that are very common when working in very large institutions, so I am not really surprised. But the weight of dealing with it day after day can exhaust you physically and mentally. At first you deal with it through humour, but after awhile when it significantly affects your productivity and your ability to get things done the most common reaction is frustration.

Nonetheless, I am secretly happy about having a fuller schedule for the months to come. I am currently in charge of two projects; one medium/big sized project on police reform ending this year and a small one on legal empowerment for the poor. The last two months have involved me taking greater responsibility and ownership over these two projects including:

• drafting and translating project reports
• monitoring and reporting on activities
• consulting on budget revisions and drafting budget proposals
• organizing steering committee meetings, and drafting their related materials
• organizing all sorts of project meetings and selection panels
• drafting terms of reference for consultant positions and an evaluation mission
• consultations on the development of new assistance project for the police
• monitoring the activities of hired consultants, coordinating their contracting, travel and reporting

The list can go on and on. On top of that over the next few months I will be organizing a series of focus groups for the legal empowerment project followed by a national conference which will complete the consultation process designed by the project; coordinating and monitoring an evaluation mission for the police project; and formulating a new assistance program for the police with multi-level coordination and multi-year funding; along with all the other activities that go along with what I am doing.

That is the short of it. So needless to say I began to view keeping in contact with friends and family as more of a chore than therapy. But over the last couple months I have really began to feel the absence of the strong social network I had created for myself back home.

Luckily from as of the 15 of June, I have had the company of a very important person. Having Kat around has been quite the blessing. She has made apartment feel like home, and her much needed added touch and positive presence has made coming home from work the happiest part of most of my days.

As with any new living arrangement there is the adjustment that accompanies it. I admit, I may not be the easiest person to live with and Mozambique can be a frustrating place to adapt to, especially for one who does not know the language. Moreover, the uncertainty in terms of work, income and daily structure that a job provides can be very difficult to deal with. I really admire Kat for her strength and courage - and most of all for her devotion - in coming here to be with me.

I picked Kat up with her brother (Adrian) in Nelspruit (just outside the border) after they had just completed a road trip in South Africa. I brought them back to Maputo where I had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing the unique sibling interaction that characterizes the Walraven clan. They are one wacky entertaining bunch. Adrian spent a few days with us, including two days at a very nice beach lodge before heading back to Afghanistan where he was on mission for CIDA.

Since then, Kat and I were invited to attend/ witness a Lobolo (a traditional ceremony, common in Mozambique and much of Africa, where the family of a groom comes to pay respect and a symbolic price to the family of the bride, similar in dowry traditions but with much attention ceremony, ritual and symbolism); gone on safari and a small weekend get away to South Africa; and will be visiting the Maputo Elephant Reserve this weekend. I will describe all these experiences with more detail in a coming post.

We have also had the good fortune of meeting some great people - some from Canada - who are also working here in Maputo through different programs (mostly through CUSO). It is a network of common friends that continues to provide much amusement for us both (as well as some female friendship for Kat). Where once we wondered what we would do with all our free evenings, we now actually take time to enjoy vegging on our spectacularly uncomfortable couch and watching some TV (we have a weekly Law and Order night on Wednesdays with 4 episodes), or reading in bed. It is hard to turn down invites from people either for dinner, to watch movies, go to parties, or picnics, so we end spending lots of time being social. But we have always been good at making time for ourselves.

Kat has been quite the sport in being the lead on planning and preparing dinners, as well as cleaning and laundry (as she is home most of the day). I sometimes worry that she is going to begin feeling too much like a house wife. So we have decided to perhaps hire an empregada (house worker) for a day or two a week, primarily to help with the laundry (which is amazingly difficult and time consuming to do for two people without a washer and drier) and some cleaning. Unemployment is widespread and the minimum wages very low here, so when we find someone we feel comfortable with I think it will be an arrangement that benefits both parties. Plus, Kat has also had the good fortune of being offered more contract work from the organization for which she interned in South Africa, and is able to do it online, remotely from Maputo. This means she will be just as busy as I will during the days to do much work.

So life goes on, and there is so much more to say. Where did the last two months go? I have been here 5 months already. Seven more to go...

APOLOGIES....

Apologies, apologies, apologies.

Just when I thought I could be proud of myself for being a decently consistent blogger, life decided that it should intervene.

I am just checking in to write a quick note from work, and even that has been quite the challenge. Not only am i up to my ears in documents and meetings and reviews and forms and ..... yeah you get the picture, but my computer here decided to access blogger through a Bulgarian server, and now I am attempting to use it from memory. I have never seen so many backwards letter in my life.

Anyway, since my last blog, many things have happened, some of which I will happily relay to you in my next blog (coming very soon I promise), not least of which was hosting two members of the Walraven clan which provided me with endless laughs with their wacky antics. One decided to stay.

Yes living with Kat. For me that day could not have come sooner, but the timing proved challenging, as my job here decided that it should provide me with a professional experience and I have been catapulted into actual positions of responsibility. Scary I know, but I think I handling it well. I think each topic deserves its own blog entry and thus will go no further.

Also worth a future mention was our most recent trip to Kruger National Wildlife Reserve for my first safari (only took me 4.5 months). It was great, great, great. We also went on a panorama tour of the area, attended a cultural event with dinner, and visited an animal rehabilitation centre. It was a re-energizing weekend.

That and much more to come. But for now, just like to say sorry for being absent, and thank you for anyone who actually comes to see what I have to say. Promise I will have more for you to read. I am missing you all back home sooooooooooooooooooooo much. As great as it has been, the home sickness is sinking in and grabbing hold. Almost half way there.

I'll be back..... you can count on it ;)

And the taps run dry...

Well, as I write this I have been without running water for over twelve hours now. The main water pipeline supplying this sector of the city broke early this morning and in typical Mozambican fashion it is being 'swiftly' attended to. Luckily, I guess, I had the smart idea to fill up three empty 5 gallon jugs of water with tap water for just such an eventuality. However, i was surprised just how much water one can go through in a day. I am now down to half of my reserve, and despite the guard's assertion outside that the water access has been restored, I find myself without any running water.

It is one of those moments where you catch yourself in true North American (and particularly Ontarian) mode. Your usual standards of cleanliness and water consumption habits that you are used to really stand out. The most simplest of tasks and functions become articles of calculation: how much to use to brush your teeth; wash your face, hair and other body parts; should i have coffee or tea in the morning or stick to just milk and other packaged drinks; what food can I eat that is going to utilize the least water; how much mess will it make and will it start attracting uninvited critters; what to do with the laundry that i need to get done; and my personal favorite where can i go to use the bathroom?

It has truly been a reflective day in these terms. Scarier still is that it has not even been 24 hours yet. Can u imagine now the millions of people who go through this ordeal every single day of their lives. Access to water becomes the most important daily activity, and coupled with all the other challenges they face, survival is their full time job. In such a context there is no room for anything else. No time to find meaningful sustained employment; no time for education; no time for play; no time for hobbies; no time for anything else that we all take for granted. How does development take place in such a context.

These of course are all things that one point or other have crossed all our minds. But having not had to go through the need, through the persistent absence of daily necessities, through the true act of survival, most of us can not realistically empathize. Neither can I claim to do so. Today, I solved my problems by grabbing a book and heading to a restaurant where my needs were catered for through my purchasing power. Most, and I mean the grand majority of people, are not so lucky.

You know when I moved into this building the gentlemen who helped me find the place gave me a suggestion for how to use the very large container out in my veranda behind the kitchen where the laundry are is. They said, "you may want to fill this up with water in case there is a water outage". Water Outage??? The thought of a large amount of stagnant water in a country where malaria is the disease that results in the largest amounts of deaths, did not exactly appeal to me. I may think differently if by tomorrow I wake up to dry tap.

Don't get me wrong, I am not panicking. Just beginning to feel that even I have severe underestimation and under appreciation for what life is like for %80 of the world's population. Even now, my greatest concern is to ensure that i can arrive to work tomorrow in presentable appearance.

I sincerely hope that those of you who may by chance read this, especially those lucky enough to be living in the water rich great lakes region where I am from, maybe pause for a moment and reflect as I have on just how abnormal it truly is to have access to and use water in the manner in which we do. Dare, if you may, to then make the correlation to how we consume most other resources in our lives. If it causes you some discomfort its OK. Its call dissonance, the self-realization of the conflict between the illusion of our perception when it collides with the enormity of our reality. The question is this: what will that sense of discomfort motivate you to do?

And Life Goes On...

Well I am sitting here sick as a dog in my apartment. I attempted to go to work today, but the nasty cough and cold sweats were too much. So acting on the suggestion of my coworkers (and one wise, beautiful, new brunette) i decided to come home and take a day to recover. One good thing about being home sick is that it forces you to find ways of entertaining yourself besides sleeping (of which i am a pro). It forced me to consider that i have been ignoring my obligations to this blog.

Work has been getting busier. The project of which i was put in charge of has quite a few programmed events coming up, and that has kept me busy scurrying around to meetings and reviewing documents. I even had my first opportuntity to sit on a selection panel for interviews for an administrative assistant position. I was given the primary task of testing the candidates English language proficiency (a tougher task than one may imagine given that most individuals lie about their fluency in English on their CVs). In addition, I was brought on board into another project: Legal Empowerment. I will be working as a part of a small team managing a project that is supposed to assist Mozambican civil society to begin the process fo national consultations on issues related to access to justice and rule of law, labour rigths, property rights, and entrepreneurship. The project is part of the global initiative "Commission on Legal Empowerment if the Poor", and has as its goal exploring the manner in which developing countries may reduce poverty by strengthening the rule of law and ensuring access to justice for all persons. It attempts to identify the possibilities and opportunities for briging the gaps between the formal and informal sectors of the economy in developing nations (the latter being more often the major contributor to developing economies, an extralegal sector in which the majority of the population and particular the poor engage daily). In short, it proves to be quite the interesting project, and needless to say has added quite substantially to my work load. An opportunity and a change that i am sincerely thankful for.

Personnally, it has taken some adjustment to living on my own. Working most of the day leaves little time for all the other tasks of keeping a livable space clean, fridge well stocked, and clothes smelling fresh. Each presents there own challenges. Cleaning the apt at night is counterproductive as you do not get a true feelign for how much dust there is. Plus, lacking still the proper clean tools make improvisation tricky. Grocery shopping is also quite challenging too. Not only do I have to trudge the groceries 7 flights of stairs, I also have to make time to go to several places in order to get the best prices and availability of products. This of course takes a lot of time, and coordination as well, not to mention that I find it quite expensive to maintain the same level of diet here as I have in the past. Lastly, hand washing ones laundry is amazingly time consuming, expecially if you have accumulated laundry for over a week. I have developed quite a respect for the majority of the world that has never known, and most likely will never know the benefits of a washing machine and drier.

Added to this is the frustrating task of purchasing the necessary items in order to settle in properly. I have put off much of these purchases for two reasons. First, I had the pleasent company of a friend from Canada this last week, and the weekend was spent mostly enjoying hte wonderful weather. Second, and more importantly, the prices for things like bedsheets and towels of any decent quality, among other items is unbelievebly expensive here. I have been told to wait until I go to South Africa to make these purchases, but I am not sure I want to wait that much longer, or spend my time in South Africa in shopping centres. I think I may just suck it up and buy the most essential items here.

My goal is to have the place nice a livable for when Kat plans to move in, in June. I will be visiting her in Joburg in a little less than two weeks (thank God as the distance is unbearable at times). She finished her internship in June, then is travelling with her brother who will be visiting for a full two weeks, at the end of which she will be residing with me (I relish this opportunity to be together, opening my eyes in the morning to find her there, and closing them at night knowing that she lays beside me). There are several opportunities in the works in terms of employment for her, both here, and not to far away in SA. Whatever the outcome, I know that we both want the same thing, to be together.

Overall, as I close in on 3 months of living here, I can confidently say that I am begining to get well adjusted. There are naturally goign to be ups and downs. Times where I could not imagine being anywhere else, and times when all i can think about is being somewhere else. And so it is that we all go about our days, some easier to get through than others. I am going to go make some tea and relax to see if this fever passes. And life goes on...

At a Stand Still....

Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Two posts in April. Not very good Bruno. I will have to do much better this month. In my defense April saw me take quite a bit of advantage of the slow pace of work and do some travelling. Kat came up twice for a visit, and once we went to Tofo as I had mentioned, and this last time we hung around Maputo and then I took a long weekend in Johannesburg. It was fantastic, and I spent some amazing time with Kat. Combined with my apartment hunting it served to keep me quite busy in April.

Not sure what May will bring. I have moved into my new place. It is nice, not too small, not too big, clean, modern, and cheap. It needs some more furniture and stuff, and the good news is that most of the purchases I make for the apartment can be deducted from the rent. So I think I will wait mostly until Kat moves in in mid June before making any major changes. The one thing that I am hoping to get installed very quickly (today if I am lucky) is the Internet. As nice as it is to have ones own place, the lack of evening communications with people (especially those of you in Canada) is quite difficult as I currently only have access during the days at work. And while it continues to be painfully slow here, I can find the time to send emails and upload photos and the like. But what happens when it gets busier? Hmmmm, wont worry about that just yet.

The other benefit of having the Internet at home is having a good source of entertainment. There is no point in television, and reading has its limits when you come home from 8 hours of reading volumes of dry evaluation reports and financial audits. I like going out, but at the same time I am a person who does not like feeling the pressure to do so. The option of a quite night in is one that is often appealing for the soul, the mind, and the wallet.

After my last visit with Kat, and the subsequent hosting of her two visiting friends, I have run into a bit of rut. The move kept me busy this weekend, but I found that my motivation for going out is mostly out of a sense of necessity than entertainment. It has caused me to dwell a bit. After all, I have a good group of diverse people here, and have some recent fun hanging out with some locals. I think a large extent of it has to do with being away from Kat. Distance is distance. The difference is that the current distance is much more manageable. And ultimately as she says, I just got to keep my eye on the prize (she moves in mid next month). Still, I must admit that I like the person I am when she is around. Knowing you have a wonderful and amazing person waiting for you when you get home from what is currently a mind numbing work routine of nothing, is great motivation to keep getting up in the morning and getting through the day.

Sorry for venting out my frustrations, but the fact of the matter is that feeling accomplished at the end of the day, having something to show for the 8 hours that you sat at your desk, is something that is extremely important to me. That sense of satisfaction that tells me that I have filled my day with something meaningful, allows me to relax and the rest of the day comfortably. The current feeling when I come into work is that I am at a stand still. While those around me scurry around, and type away, I am often making my own research schedule, or reading the news to try to keep informed. It makes a significant difference when it comes to ones sense of self worth.

But as always, one has the option to get upset, or angry, or frustrate. Or the option to view this as a learning experience, a challenge, or a blessing that I have an opportunity to be exposed to this environment, learn to live on my own in a foreign and developing country, practice and further develop my language skills in Portuguese, and where possible try to make provide a positive input. After all, it has only just recently been two months since i have arrived. As always perhaps all that is needed is a little patience.

Hmmm, feels good to reflect in writing. Should do it more often....

A Home at Last....

I know, it has been way too long since I have posted. And yes I promised to update the blog with details of my trip to Tofo with Kat. I would love to launch into a litany of excuses as to why, but I believe that like me, you who are reading this does not really care.

Tofo was an amazing, and relaxing experience. A quiet beach paradise, too far away to make it a regular weekend get away, but close enough that I know it has not seen the last of me. Best of all was being there with Kat. I cannot describe how nice it was to have a nice stretch of time together, alone, with nothing to do but enjoy existing. Like much we do together it brings us closer, and gave us a renewed appreciation for the role we play in each others life. So much so that less than two weeks after parting ways, I am again playing host to Kat. It has been a very special week as she has assisted me greatly in the task that has been preoccupying my time and mental sanity over the last two weeks; finding a home.

I have been living with a coworker since I have arrived (i mentioned him in earlier posts - Halfdan). It is a very comfortable place, with a large kitchen, air conditioning, large kitchen, and centrally located. But as i think most can appreciate, when it is not ones own place, it is difficult to settle in and feel at home, especially as you know the situation is temporary. That temporariness makes me feel as if i have been in a liminal state, preventing me from fully integrating into my surroundings, fearing getting too comfortable to some of the luxuries i will not be able to afford or will miss when i move out (ie. constant internet access, and a housekeeper).

At the same time, the process of finding a place of my own has been much more stressful than I had anticipated. I was forewarned before coming that Maputo was not a cheap city to live in, and that rent was surprisingly high. I had thus prepared myself to pay a larger amount than I would have hoped for, but decided that I would in return be specific and less compromising about what I wanted (clean, safe, not falling apart, furnished, 1 max 2 bedroom, and reasonably located), not too much to ask I thought. But what i did not know until I got here is that Maputo has a housing shortage. Unless you are willing and able to purchase or lease a brand new apartment, or house, and have the capacity to furnish it all yourself, than you are in for some fun.

Listening carefully to the advice emanating from all directions, and prior experiences of other expats with lesser language skills than mine, i distilled the two necessary conditions for being successful to: tell them what you are looking for exactly; and tell them your budget. I contacted three different real estate agents (one of which did not even get back to me) and felt very confident that within days I would have a choice to make and a major task of finding a home accomplished.

Kat was here when i was contacted to see the first apartment. While the building was nice, and the apartment had an ocean view, it was no where near what I had asked for. I made sure to then and there clarify exactly what i was looking for, and I thought, ok now we will be on our way. I was happy had come along as she is planning to be staying with me for some time beginning in June and I think that it should suite her likings as much as mine. She left back to Joburg shortly after, and I was left with the task of looking at more places by myself.

A few days later, I received a few more calls to see some places, and as they are available mostly during the day I took my lunch hour and headed out to go seem them. Again the apartments that i was shown were not suitable to my needs (large three bedrooms, furnished mind you, but not what i had asked for, and of course the price was at the top end of my budget). I began to get the feeling that what was important here was not to find me what i wanted but to settle me in some where so they could get the highest commission possible (which they collect based on the price of the rent), and move on. Particularly, since I was being pressured to make a decision almost minutes after seeing a place. At one point having seen only one other apartment (that I clearly had let them know was unsuitable), I was told that I needed to make a decision by the end of the day, and that i would not find much better than this.

Having a general good sense when people are bullshitting and when i am being taken for a sucker, I decided to tone down my sense of urgency and treat this as a learning experience. So what have I learned:

1. No matter what you say, more often than not the only thing that sticks in their mind is the budget limit you set for yourself;
2. A stove and oven, and refrigerator are considered furniture, and thus if a place is unfurnished it does not come with these things;
3. Consistent access to water is considered a feature to be mentioned, and access to hot water a selling point;
4. They will say yes to almost absolutely anything you ask that can be done to the place to get you to consider taking it, even though the owner may have contrary opinions;
5. You are negotiating at all times, and I mean at all times;
6. Conversations in Portuguese even about the smallest things have a minimum length of at least 10 minutes for some reason;
7. Being on time for a meeting or a viewing will just result in boredom filled waiting;
8. Never expect receive a clear answer to anything;
9. Be as assertive and demanding as possible without being rude or you will find yourself in a position to accept terms that are not to your liking;
10. I can survive in Africa ;)

In the end i will be moving into a clean, safe, not falling apart, furnished, 1 bedroom, reasonably located apartment on May 5th, with a fixed rent much lower than i had expected which will allow me to get internet installed (accomplishing that is my next challenge). Kat got to see this last place with me and was pleased with it (being the creative spirit that she is certain to add a homely touch to the place when she moves in - she has already talked about painting the place - i can't wait).

So was all this stress worth it? Besides the aggravation, and the loads of personal time that i had to put into it, I believe this experience will have positive outcomes. For one, i got what i wanted, and will have a place I can be happy and feel comfortable with during my stay here. Personally, i have had a valuable cultural learning experience as it has forced me to directly engage in local business practices and expose myself to the challenges of intercultural dialogue and negotiation. there are many aspects of my personality and approach that I learned need to be adjusted if I am going to survive here.

Overall, these experiences can be mentally and physically exhausting. I'll be thankful that i have a home of my own at last...

I'm a good driver...yeah...definetly a good driver...yeah

I know, I know. It has been two weeks since my last post and it looks like I have forsaken my blogging duties. But it is with good reason. I have been hosting Kat for nearly the last two weeks and everything else just seems to matter a little less. Letting go of her is never easy, and it has been difficult adjusting to her absence. Thus, I must say that I will not do this posting much justice, but promise to return this weekend to with a revitalized positive spirit.

Sooo much has happened since my last post, but as always it is difficult to incorporate all one wants into a posting. Blogging, like any form of writing exercise, requires difficult choices about what to say and what is left for another day. So what shall I say?

Well, putting aside more about Kat's visit until this weekend, I must announce that at 26.5 years old I have finally acquired what every 16 year old dreams of having; a car. Yes, after mooching off my parents for 26 years, and making my life in Ottawa as least car dependable as possible, I move to Africa and find out that sometimes having a vehicle is essential. While Maputo is a very nice city, with much to offer, I have come to appreciate the finer aspects of city planning that characterize Ottawa. Not only am i going to have to be flexible in where I find housing in the coming month, as rent is surprisingly expensive in the most convenient areas, I also have to deal with the fact that to be close enough to walk to work means that I am inconveniently far from downtown and all the destinations for entertainment and getting food. And while I considered the option of locating myself centrally and arranging transportation to work, I again come to be nostalgic about the benefits of having OC Transpo. I did consider taking the Chapas every day (they are cheap and abundant), but I also had to factor in that I would be very limited in what I can do, and where I can go while I am here. After justifying to myself repeatedly that it is OK to own a vehicle (and still live an environmentally friendly lifestyle) I decided to go for it. So with the kind and generous assistance of my parents, and some looking around I am now the proud new owner of a Toyota RAV 4 (yes a mini SUV, stop rolling your eyes, if you saw the roads here you would be applauding me).

Having never purchased a vehicle before, I must say doing so in Africa is quite easy. The hard part is being assured that what you are doing is legit, and that who you are buying from is not tying to rip you off grand. I was advised to target the expatriate market as they are least likely to rip you off, but the problem is that they mostly drive very large, and still very expensive vehicles. And while it is fun to test drive hummeresk vehicles, it is really a waste of their time and mine. Luckily, I was given the name of a trust worthy individual to contact when I inquired about renting a car in time for Kat's visit so that I could take her somewhere special. It turns out that he also helps UNDP staff with their car purchases abroad. And as luck would have it, he also buys back cars from expats who do not want to be bothered in doing it themselves. After, testing the waters with him, and driving the vehicle for a day, we got down to negotiation. He turned out to be a very decent individual, and has offered a lot of support and guidance through the entire process, not to mention a level of patience with banking issues that most car salesman would probably have trouble with. Just to emphasize the point, the other day, I came downstairs to find my car had a flat in the morning before work. I called him up, for assistance as it was parked in a tight spot in which i would have difficulty accessing the spare tire. He picked me up and drove me to work. Had someone come to the car change the tire, take it to his garage (he owns one) fix the flat, rotate my tires and return the car to me at work.

Now like I said, buying the car was the easy part, learning to drive in Mozambique has been the true challenge. First, in Moz they drive on the left side of the road, so all my driving habits and postures are reversed. This was what took least getting used too surprisingly. Aside from occasionally turning on my wipers instead of my turn signal I have mastered driving on the left side of the road.

Second, I think I have mentioned this before, driving is mass chaos here. The level of situational awareness here is unbelievable more than in Canada. While in Canada you can have the confidence, all be it limited, that the majority of the individuals will exercise caution and responsibility when driving, here it is best to assume that everyone is an escaped inmate from an insane asylum that has robbed a car to escape authorities. At no point should you assume that you have right of way simply because all rational and logical thought would tell you that green is a sign to go and red to stop, or that just because there are 25 people crammed into a van made for 12, that the driver is going to show any kind of regard for the amount of lives he is responsible for. All I can say is that I am very grateful and thankful to have had such amazing teachers as my parents and older brother. I really feel that it is dangerous to show intimidation, apprehension or hesitation here as it will be seen more as an opportunity to engage in further reckless maneuvers. Confidence and attention are the key to surviving, and still I have three or four near accidents every day.

The third, and finally, the roads. What can I say? I am actually impressed with how good they are in some places. Particularly the highways. Mozambique has been trying to successfully decentralize the development process, and in the last few years has earmarked significant portions of the national budgets to the provinces for infrastructural rehabilitation. One of the priorities has been revitalizing the road network. The main national road (EN1) has been the benefactor of a lot of this money as it runs through most of the provinces (north-south). However, as it is a provincial effort, the provinces begin the re-paving of the highway at their southern most borders (in the direction of Maputo). The result being that as you enter a new province your tires are met with smooth, amazingly new and sophisticated highways. But as you near the north end of the province, the money appears to run out, and as the money goes so did the road. While the change in Maputo province was gradual, and the remaining stretch of highway was pretty good, in the subsequent Gaza province, once you pass the major city of Xai-Xai you better hope you packed a spare tire and that your suspension is not on its last legs. At points there is more pothole than actual road; towards the last stretch of this 90 kilometre expanse of stressful, winding driving the road appears to be being eroded from the sides making the middle of the highway the ideal place to drive. This makes games of chicken with oncoming traffic (sometimes extremely large 18 wheel trucks) part of the driving experience. Now add torrential rain (which fills up and obscures the potholes), poor visibility and the same insane lunatic driving habits found in Maputo at much faster speeds, and you have a mix for a truly unique and terrifying driving experience. Luckily I have an amazing and loving partner who can calm my nerves and make the best of such experience.

I can't wait for the next road trip. Just call me Rainman ;)

No Strangers to Tragedy...

I had planned to put up a couple of posts describing my trip to the beautiful sea side lagoon region of Bilene on my first weekend here, as well as some of the things of done and experience in Maputo over the last few weeks (like my craft market experienced and ferry boat ride). But considering the events of last Thursday I thought it would be more appropriate to devote my time to describing the tragedy that unfolded.

I was sitting in my office on Thursday afternoon, reviewing project documents and preparing some meeting notes for the following week (the most work I actually have done since I got here). Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. My mind was on the weekend and the coming Portugal vs Belgium Euro 2008 qualifying match, even though it should have been on conceptualizing a donor matrix for my police assistance project. My attention was quickly grabbed by a series of popping noises that seemed to be originating from a distance. The sound was reminiscent of the sound that fireworks make when they burst in the sky. It was strangely familiar to the sound of the rockets they send up during celebrations (religious or community) in Portugal, and so I found it amusing that it was seemingly a remnant of Mozambique's colonial past; much like other practices that have become cross cultural which are quite evident. My first reaction was jovial, and I returned to work. A few moments later a colleague told me that they must be destroying ordinances at the depot 15 kms away. I found it strange that they would do it within city limits, and without any warning, but having already witnessed so many things that do not fit into my frame of logic while I have been here, I just told myself "This is Africa", smiled and continued at my computer. I even sent a light hearted message to Kat about it expressing my amusement. Minutes later my amusement had faded.

Not only had the sound of the blasts become louder, but the windows began to vibrate with the impact of the sound waves. Suddenly a deafening boom immediately accompanied by a shock wave, shook the building and the windows. Car alarms went off, the power went out, and I found myself under my desk. I got up and quickly went to the window, in the distance, as the sound of smaller explosions was still going off, you could see a large cloud rising. It was at this point thatwe recieved the news that the heavy ordinances at ammunition's depot were going off. BANG. Again the building shook. Amazing that the windows did not shatter. Most of us have our desks close the windows, and so people began to refuse to sit at their desks for fear they would be hurt from shattering glass. Slowly people in the office began to call it a day, even though the power had been restored by the generator. Periodically, the building would shake from another heavy blast.

I have never experienced war. I am lucky. I come from a country that has not had a major conflict on its territory for nearly 200 years. I have studied conflict. It was the focus of my MA. I have a solid knowledge of international, regional, and civil conflicts that have occurred over history. I am by no means a war aficionado but I have tried to familiarize myself with first hand accounts of conflicts, and expose myself to footage (documentary and others) of armed conflict. None of this is to say that one can ever prepare themselves for being in a situation where they are within kilometres of exploding heavy ordinances. But if forced to describe what it felt like from where I was located, I would say that it was like being on the fringes of shelling or bombardment from an enemy army advancing on the city. The explosions got louder, the shock waves more intense, and if it were not for the fact that I knew that I was in a safe location (not necessarily out of range of such weapons ordinarily, but when they are going off from such an accident they are rarely project beyond a radius of a few kilometres), I am not sure if i would have remained as composed as I did.

Like my coworkers I to felt uneasy about remaining at my desk, and decided to leave. I would have got a ride with the colleague that I am staying with, Halfdan, but he had gone with a coworker closer to the site of the explosions to see if they could get any more information (my coworker Miguel is project manager for the small arms and light weapons control project, and is actively involved in creating a program for the decommissioning and destruction of stockpiles of munitions). I got a ride home, and made sure to let everyone know that I was alright in case news of the story reached back home. There was a part of me that felt as if I should do something, but not knowing where to turn I decided to keep my ears open for opportunities to assist.

That evening I attended a birthday party of a coworker as I had planned earlier in the week, and while the event was of course topic of conversation, it was not as dominant as I had expected. In fact the only evidence that there was anything out of the ordinary was the occasional siren, the more crowded than usual streets (as people were evacuated from the surrounding areas into the city), and the black cloud that was still in the air. I was quite surprised at how normal the entire situation seemed, despite the indications that this was going to turn out to be a significant tragedy. However, considering that this year alone the country has gone through a similar accident with a depot explosion (with no where near the destructive implications though), severe floods and droughts, two cyclones; added to that a legacy of wars and endemic poverty one realizes that Mozambicans are no strangers to tragedy.

In the days that followed my offer of assistance was taken up and I had the surreal opportunity to visit the main hospital in Maputo to get details on the injuries, number of dead etc. Needless to say it would have not been my choice of role to play. I arrived at the hospital and was ushered in to meet with the head of emergency services. I feared that I might not be prepared for what was awaiting me at the hospital, but I was fortunate not to be witness to some of the gruesome sights of the days prior. There were hundreds of people there, but very few were patients. The majority were family waiting on some news of the status of a loved one, or where they had been taken. Inside I there were more people waiting, some with their heads in their hands, others gazing emotionless in front of them. I could not begin to imagine the horror of what these people were going through.

My meeting with the doctor was brief, as he could not give me official statistics, only passing details that he insisted were not official and were off the record. If I wanted official details I would have to return in the morning to speak to the official in charge of communications. He did mention that the majority of serious injuries that they had treated were for burns and amputated limbs, while most of the cases that came in were for shock and trauma. The only official update he could give me was that the hospital had returned to manageable flow of operations. I thanked him and left and waited outside for my driver. I had to wait awhile as it was expected that I would be there for at least 30 minutes. Outside I felt like an outsider, incapable of empathizing with what the mass of individuals was there for. Two boys, no older than 15 approached me and asked me if I knew where the blood donor clinic was. I said that I was sorry but had no clue; I felt ashamed, and felt a compulsion to go with them and find it (a compulsion I should have acted on). As I stood there waiting I began to read the bulletins on the wall. I quickly realized that they were update sheets with names of patients, their ages, what they were diagnosed with, and the treatment or result. There were several dozen posted along the wall. I began to read through them. What I read nearly brought tears to my eyes. Name after name (some remained unknown) of people ranging from ages as young as 3 months to 83 years of age. At one point there was a string of 15 names where the diagnosis was amputation, some of multiple limbs. There was one girl, unknown, age 7, with two arms and a leg amputated. The gravity of the situation began to settle in. (I know you may consider this graphic but, there are many gruesome details that have been shared with me that I am not going to post on my blog).

During the day the numbers kept on increasing, with this morning totals indicating a tentative number of approximately 100 dead, and over 500 treated in hospitals, with over half of those with serious life altering injuries, and 40 still in intensive care. The numbers are very tentative because there many more unaccounted for. The surrounding areas affected by the explosions are littered with unexploded ordinances. Authorities have not allowed people to return until an effort has been made to clear all those that can be immediately found (i am wondering what happens to those that are not found, victims for another day, exactly why the tentative number will remain so for a long time, much like the issue with landmines which is a scourge that also affects this country, not a day passes that i do not encounter some one with a missing limb). The clearance effort has of course delayed the recovery effort which means that as authorities begin to comb through the rubble they will inevitably find more casualties.

All this is the view from someone on the outside. I can only imagine what I would have been party to had I been on location, or part of the immediate relief effort. And still, I cannot help but think that this experience will have some affect on me. What disturbed me most was the ability to just shut off the real world, come home, shower, and then go out for drinks as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Like so many experiences so far, it was surreal and perhaps to a great extent it's why I feel like I am lacking the appropriate level of empathy for the situation. How is one to relate with state of existence that does not conform with anything that one has experienced in their life time? When I have the answer to that one, I will let you know?

Welcome to the UNDP...

The day after arriving in Maputo, I was up early and ready to begin my new work experience. I woke up and had breakfast prepared for me by our house lady who arrives at 7:15 every morning. Halfdan quickly explained to me that it is important that I do nothing, no dishes, laundry, general cleaning etc. during the week as it would be taking away from her work and she likes keeping busy. Also, she would think that I was dissatisfied with her work. He told me that he had to accept her as part of the terms of lease for the apartment, and that it took some time before becoming adjusted to it. As uncomfortable as it makes me, I have accepted the arrangement for now, but the idea of becoming adjusted to having someone do everything for me is not appealing. Part of it I believe has to do with my own conceptions of privacy. As I would learn when I got home later that day and found that my suit case, and bags, had been completely emptied, and everything in them had been neatly put away, I realized that i would need to revisit my ideas of privacy.

I arrived at the UNDP at 8:00am sharp for my first day. I was introduced to my direct colleagues who were pleasantly surprised that I spoke Portuguese, something for which I have been receiving numerous compliments for (thank you to my parents). No one knew quite what to do with me, and there was no desk space yet made available, and I began to get a troubled feeling. Luckily, a coworker (her name is Mirza) invited me to come along and attend a daily briefing of the emergency, relief, and reconstruction situation in Zambezi and other regions in Mozambique (for those of you who had not heard, Central and Northern Mozambique had undergone some major flooding caused by heavy rains, the worst since the floods of 2000-01 which killed and displaced many people, if that was not bad enough two cyclones, or hurricanes, one of which was particularly strong hit in February exacerbating the relief situation). We called a driver, and we were off. We arrived at what I was told is a Military Air force base, I would have never guessed. Pleasantries were exchanged and the briefing was had. I was quite impressed with the level of discussion and coordination that was going on, and would later find out that the Government's response to the situation has been considered exemplary. For me, it was an exciting new experience to be able to witness this new environment.

After the meeting the National Director for the coordination of emergency and relief activities, a friend of Mirza's, offered us a ride back. He asked us if we wanted the direct route or the indirect route. I am glad I chose the latter. After finding out that it was my first full day in the city he took it upon himself to give me a tour. A very jovial character, he had me laughing the entire time. Driving around in Mozambique you begin to develop a profound appreciation for traffic civility in Canada, yes even in Quebec. As quickly told the golden rule in Mozambican traffic philosophy "there are no rules only suggested guidelines". After commenting that I was somewhat concerned by the lack of care taken for the safety of pedestrians I learned that "In Mozambique its the cars that have priority because they are in the minority". Seems reasonable. For my first day in Maputo I could not have asked for anything better than the guided tour that I was given. We had lunch in a restaurant by the ocean and I then was returned to the UNDP building.

In the afternoon I was taken around and introduced to the few people who had shown up to work that day. Then spent the rest of the day reading up on the current assistance program to the Police of the Republic of Mozambique (PRM). By the end of the week I had a large air conditioned office, with a computer and stacks of binders to go through. I attended my security briefing where I was told the many ways in which my stay here can be made unpleasant. I also spent a large amount of time processing my documents to obtain my residency here (that should come through soon I hope). On the Friday a colleague of mine, Miguel, came into my office and basically asked me if I was interested in collaborating on initiating a new project proposal. As the police project is scheduled to end this fall, with fading hope for renewal of the same format for assistance, I was asked to be part of a small project team to create a proposal for a project on assistance on Crime Prevention which would bring together policing and small arms (which is Miguel's current project field). I was made the programme officer for policing, and began attending meetings regularly, mostly on small arms, but soon will be meeting with 'my' contacts at the PRM. I honestly have little idea of how the process works, and am just now getting up to speed on the situation with the reform of the PRM. I cannot get into too much detail of course, but the major issues with the PRM are lack of institutional and human capacity, and corruption. Tackling those hurdles would facilitate improving other deficient areas. Needless to say that for me it seems like an overwhelming task given the length of my posting, but it is an excellent opportunity to position myself as indispensable (brain don't fail me now).

I have quickly been targeted as the most confident anglophone in the office and thus have been asked to review and edit some very important proposals. Not the funnest of jobs, but it is amazing to see the glaring mistakes and horrible grammar that even the most professional of people make here. The entire country office is undergoing a re-organization of sorts, beginning at the top and working its way slowly downward. This has the effect of making all current structures temporary, and thus makes giving me clear guidance and involving me in projects difficult (especially since there are those who are clinging to their projects with resounding conviction, and do not want to appear incapable by asking for assistance, ironic considering that is probably why they appear incapable in the first place). Regardless, I will find my niche, and as some colleagues have been very good to point out; enjoy this time cause once you get started and they notice how much they can use you, you will wish you had days like these where your only responsibility was to surf the website and read documents. I must admit, I have only been here two weeks and there is already significant discussion on bringing me in on different projects, so I think I will heed their advice. They were extremely relieved to get a Portuguese speaker, especially at the level that I am at, which is better than some senior programme officers. So again the golden rule of Africa comes into play, hurry up and wait (I must exercise patience).

In the meantime, I am enjoying the amazing liberty that comes with working at the UNDP. I get 2.5 days a month in time off (totaling 6 weeks by the end of it), along with 8 unjustified absences, 10 national and UN holidays, and off at 1:30pm every Friday. Not to mention that accountability here is a very loosely defined term. Add to that the excellent European tradition of no shorter than 45 minutes for lunch, and I am beginning to wonder when am I ever going to get any work done. I am sure my tune will change soon, and there are things that will get on my nerves, but I trust in my ability to adapt, and have always prided myself in fitting in well with my work environment. Plus, if there is one thing that I inherited from my time at CANADEM is a overwhelming lack of surprise at the inefficiencies and bureaucracies found in government and international organizations like the UN. Patience and flexibility are the two most important qualities in this field; I look forward to having my capacities in both tested over this coming year.

Maputo at last...

My excitement at finally reaching my destination was quickly turned into sadness. Being a student of international relations I have always believed I had a sense of what the world was like. However, little can prepare you with such a drastic encounter with poverty, especially as I lacked the normal comfort of knowing that it was only images on a screen or pictures in a book, and that when I walked outside the world around me would be completely different, familiar and affluent.

Maputo is surrounded by ‘Bairros’ (type of shantytowns) all around, approximately 65 in total. They vary in population density and types of infrastructure. But those on the very outskirts of Maputo, between it and Matola (another large city across the bay), are the most destitute in the region. These are the first you see on your way into the city. The majority are made up of straw houses or material long ago disregarded as garbage by more affluent neighbourhoods. Those lucky enough to use remnants of former houses have only to fashion a makeshift roof to complete their homes. Open sewers (nothing more than small dykes dug out to road) often divide where one bairro ends and the next begins, though normally the distinction is impossible to an outsider like me. Garbage is the common element that draws together the landscape. And everywhere children play among their sad surroundings. All along the highway we passed bairro after bairro with the odd industrial yard until we reached Maputo proper. But even into Maputo the bairros continue extending into old parking lots and abandoned lots. It is truly a contrast as you enter the ‘Baixa’ (the lower part of town as Maputo is on slight hill, it is also the older part of the city), with businesses and renovated car dealerships inter-dispersed with abandoned buildings, the overflow from existing bairros, and lots used as local land fills.

As we ventured into the city further the bairros eventually disappeared and you are left with old decrepit buildings (some falling apart from disrepair), uneven and pot whole filled side walks with a mass of people and traffic to navigate. The scenery began to look much more promising the closer to the centre of town the bus trotted along to. As we made our way to upper town we passed renovated villas and new buildings under construction. As the bus turned down a narrow street lined with exotic trees (mostly palms) I began to see where Maputo got its reputation for being beautiful African city with a European flavour. The architecture reminded me a bit of what you see in Portugal the further south you travel (large multi-complex villas).

Somehow through what seemed to be impassable traffic our bus lumbered through to its destination. The scenery had distracted me from the fact that we were over 2 hours late and the thought that the ride which the UNDP had arranged for me may have given up and left began dawn upon me. Luckily as the bus came to a stop I noticed an older gentleman holding a sign up with my name. I quickly disembarked and greeted him. The first thing I learned is that on a whole Mozambicans are one of the friendliest people you will meet. Within a few brief moments he could tell that I was a continental Portuguese from the North (my accent had betrayed me). Unexpectedly his next question was my favourite soccer team (even in Mozambique you cannot escape the rivalry between Benfica fans and Porto fans and me being from the north he pegged me as a Porto fan from the start – let the razzing begin – which is ironic since Porto has dominated the league and won the UEFA Cup and Champions League in the last 5 years, I think its envy, but I digress).

We loaded my things into a large UN 4X4 and back into traffic we ventured. He told me about his family, his job, his country, why he hated communism but distrusted capitalism, how cheap the beer was, and beautiful the women were. Within minutes I had received a very brief and dirty Mozambican education. If any of you come and visit Maputo something that will strike you early are the names of the streets. They are all, and I mean all, named after former communist dictators, great African leaders that support the war of liberation, or important dates in that war. And I am not kidding. The US information service centre has the unfortunate circumstance of being on the corner of Kim Il Sung Ave. and Mao Tse Tung Ave.

As we turned from Julius Neyere onto Kenneth Kuanda we began to approach the UNDP headquarters. This stretch of Maputo is very affluent and houses the majority of the embassies and the headquarters of most International organizations. UNDP is a moderately sized compound along Kenneth Kuanda (the the renovated remnants I am sure of an old colonial villa like all compounds in around that area). I was introduced to Haldan, the Danish JPO that was kind enough to let me stay with him for a while (more on him to come, what a great guy). Halfdan drove me to his place, took my bags, showed me my room, let me settle in and then took me to dinner at Mundo’s (a popular expatriate bar). His apartment, while in a run down building, is a fabulous large place with air conditioning, huge kitchen, Internet access, and as I was soon to learn a maid that insists on doing everything for you.

More on that and my first days at the UNDP to come ( I have to start making these short hehehehe)

Buses, Borders, and Bureaucrats. Oh my...

Monday morning of the 5th of March, I woke up early to catch a taxi to the bus station. After a quick but sweet goodbye with Kat, I was off racing in crazy morning Joburg traffic anxiously hoping that I had left myself enough time to get my ticket and board the bus. Luckily taxi drivers operate by their own set of rules and traffic legality aside I reached my destination with time to spare. Hurry up and wait seems to be the recurring theme, as my desire to be punctual was not matched by the coach service I was taking to Maputo.

I waited an hour and a half for the bus to arrive in Park City Transit Centre (Joburg Bus depot). I must have been looking especially friendly that morning as through out my wait, I was approached a number of times and asked about everything from bus schedules to where the washrooms were (a kind old man even asked me if I knew the results of the weekends football match). Unfortunately I was not able to help any of them, but it helped pass the time. We finally boarded at 9:30am, and I was relieved to see that despite not offering the luxury that one may expect from the description offered on the website, the bus was much more comfortable than the Greyhound I am used to taking from Ottawa to Toronto. The bus was under sold, so I got to relax and stretch out my feet as there was no one around me. We a jolt and a puff of black exhaust we were off, Maputo bound my home for the next year.

I had slept very little the night before (a lot of trouble sleeping my first week in Africa), so I had no problem passing out within minutes. I awoke only a couple of times, once at each rest stop, which surprisingly differ little from the ones we have in Canada (well except for all the palm trees and the lack of a Tim Hortons), gas station, bathroom and disgusting fast food. Now I have had some disgusting fast food in my life, but my first (and last) encounter with the South African franchise Steers gave me a new found appreciation for McDonald’s. I will leave it at that.

Luckily the nausea I was feeling was surpassed only by my sleepiness, and with a few delicious apples so lovingly packed quickly by Kat, my stomach had settled enough for me to pass out, again. I awoke some hours later at the next stop, and opted to stay in the bus catching the last few minutes of the movie classic Big Momma’s House 2 (personally I think one of the most underrated sequels ever hehe). It was the perfect time to wake up as we entered the highlands region of Eastern South Africa.

It was at about this time that I began to realize where I actually was. Sounds crazy I know, but with all the rushing in the week prior, the anxiousness and excitement at being reunited with Kat, the jet lag, sleeping in, the comfort and modernity of Melville and Joburg, it was not really until moment, as the bus winded its way through the highlands, with its breathtaking landscape that it dawned upon me that for the next year that this was going to be my environment. For the first time I felt I was in Africa. I beamed with excitement at what lay ahead. I would say that if was an amazing inspirational moment in my life if it were not for the odd fact that Big Momma’s House 2 had now been replaced by a DVD of all of Celine Dion’s ‘greatest’ (and I use the term loosely) hits. What was even odder was the intense attentiveness of some of the passengers on the bus to the videos. This fascination with Celine Dion distracted me from the passing scenery from time to time. Soon we had escaped the narrow, winding passes and tunnels of the highlands and arrived at Nelspruit where some got off, and we took on new passengers.

The back of the bus being nearly empty made it an attractive place for newcomers. While no-one was adventurous enough to sit next to me, there were some young folk who sat in the seats in front and next to me. Within moments the individual to my right had made I contact with me as began chatting away. Naturally looking out of place, he asked me where I was from. I responded as every proud Canadian does, modestly from Canada. Strangely they did not believe me. It required a look at my passport for me to finally gain their trust that I was just not an American paranoid about my safety. My Canadianess attracted much attention from those around me. First there was a young couple from Germany who was travelling with a guide (the guy who initiated conversation with), whom had been to Canada and were feeling nostalgic enough to re-count all their adventures to me. Second there was the young man behind me who had been quite the entire ride from Joburg, but who it turns out lived in Ottawa the last two years (what a small world). Before I knew it we had arrived at Komatipoort, the South African side of the border (Ressano Garcia is the Mozambican side). I left the bus, and it was suggested that I take nothing but some cash and my passport with me.

Komatipoort was a pleasure to cross. A short wait at passport control, a clean and efficient border control office, with a pleasant official. All access points into South Africa were monitored by a border guard. Once you clear passport control you have to walk on foot to the other side. I enjoyed the stroll as I entered for the first time was is to be my new home. As you enter Ressano Garcia the contrasts begin to surface. A single Mozambican border guard checks your passport as you enter (what he is looking for I am not sure), and you continue walking at which point it is really your choice if decide to announce your presence at customs or not as there is no one else directing you there. I decided to be a good international citizen of course and do as everyone else was doing.

The border control office on this side was in stark contrast to what I had just passed through in South Africa. Some would call it organized chaos. If it were not for one of the bus attendants kindly noticing my confusion, I probably would not have known to fill out the customs card, so conveniently hidden behind a pillar in a gap between the quickly forming lines. Oh, and thinking that you could possibly be provided a pencil or a pen at this point is truly misguided. Even trying to borrow one from the officer at the car registry window proved to be a negotiation worthy of challenging my language skills. Once the card was filled out, the task of trying to pick the right line was in front of me. Here is a piece of advice for anyone who follows in my path; there is no right line. Just stick yourself in the shortest one and pray you do not get the guy who speaks worse Portuguese than you in front of you.

By the time I reached the front of the line I must have looked like I was melting (it is significantly warmer in Mozambique, very humid). I also noticed that aside from the Australian in front of me practicing what he was going to say to the border official in Portuguese over and over, that I was the only white person left in the line. Which also made me notice that I saw no one from my bus in line. My sweat glands already working overtime, it was impossible for me to sweat even more from nervousness. After an excruciatingly long negotiation between the Australian guy and the border official it was my turn. Everything was going alone nice and smoothly until he muttered something and pointed to the wall. I could have sworn I was hearing a different language. I used my Portuguese and the second time around I caught a familiar word; tax. Now that is one we all know. So I asked how much – a dangerous question to ask if you are an obvious foreigner at a border entry point. Luckily, it was not more than what would work out to two dollars Canadian so I paid it and off I went.

I arrived outside to a sight that frightens me to the core even to this day. My bus was pulling away. I had a passport and the equivalent to twenty dollars Canadian in my hand. Everything else was on that bus. Instinct took over, and I did what anyone else would do. I ran. And boy can I run fast when it comes down to a crunch. I must have been quite a site. Some locals shouted “run run”, some nicer locals actually alerted the bus driver and he stopped. I boarded the bus to some applause from my German friends who got a kick out of watching me run. They assured me they would have alerted the bus driver (I am not so sure).

Tired from run I fell asleep. I woke up just as we began entering the outskirts of Maputo.

To be continued….