2011. January 14.

What is it like working in the southeast corner of Africa? SIDA ziii, SIDA zuu and the benefits of living on the edge of town. And who shall cross first, the elephants or we?

14 to 20 % so SIDA ziii, SIDA zuu

As I wrote in my first travelogue, according to the latest data (2009) some 14 % of the population of Mozambique is infected by HIV. Further, every day about 440 new infections occur. This is however just an optimistic data since the real number of HIV-infected is most probably much higher, according to the estimations it reaches 20 %. The Province of Manica (where I also live) belongs to the areas with the highest infection rates. Partly thanks to that the north-south EN1 and the east-west EN6 highway, which links the coastal Beira with the Zimbabwean capital, Harare meet each other on its territory. Further, the zone near the Zimbabwean border is quite popular among the legal and illegal gold and diamond miners as well as traders (mostly from Zimbabwe and Lebanon and some from Belgium). The traffic is high, the joy is quick, and the polygamy is a multiplicator.

Particularly in Inchope where the two highways cross each other. Therefore, Inchope became the scene of our awareness-raising day, where everyone, spectators, performers, organizers, with no discrimination could take an HIV-test for free in the tent set up next to the stage. To reinforce the test’s anonymity in the mind of the locals, the speaker said, I am citing, „everything remains the secret of God”  this too shows the all embracing importance of religion here.

The event started with a march at the four wings of the junction in order to call the attention of the truck drivers and street vendor girls to the disease. Then inauguration of the Mozambican flag and national anthem, as formalities cannot be left out. However, the governor broke with all the formalities in her speech: “It is not at all boring to eat beans every day”, she said, “it just has to be prepared in a different way.” “Marriage is the same: if you do something for it each day and make efforts to keep it alive, it will never get boring – and then you will not have to wink after the skirt or pants of someone else.” The public closed the speech with “SIDA ziii, SIDA zuuu”!!
In its performance, a local theatre group demonstrated how a woman infected with HIV becomes discriminated and excluded from her family, first of all by her husband or dad. After the play, the actors invited a male viewer onto the stage to perform how he would have behaved in the woman’s place in the same situation. Then the trainer of LeMuSiCa, a reception centre for orphan and vulnerable children held an interactive lecture on how you could catch HIV, how not and once it happened, how you could live with it healthy, even for years. Symbolizing that with the bridge of hope crawling with crocodiles, lions, tigers under it. In other words, how you can fulfil the dream of your life lying at the other end of the bridge without falling to be a victim to HIV/AIDS „along the way”. Amidst the serious themes a local group provided entertainment with a dance show accompanied with African drums and the viewers also started their local dance in a circle of four to five.

What does the title mean? SIDA ziii, SIDA zuuu – down with the AIDS!

In Mozambique, male and female condoms are available for free for everyone in the public institutions and the office of most of the international organisations.

Assessora, or why I am actually here

After seven and a half months, I believe, everyone might be curious why I am actually here apart from the travelling, safari and cultural snapshots. Now some details and in the next travelogue some insight into local projects.

Fundamentally, my work is: advising two local NGOs, FOCAMA and Forum Terra in every question related to communication and knowledge management. Both organisations are a forum, FOCAMA represents all the civil organisations, associations in the province of every theme and sector, whereas Forum Terra deals with the sustainable use of natural resources, land rights and land conflict resolution and gathers organisations from this field. On a daily basis I work together with 3 colleagues: Delfim (from FOCAMA) as well as Sr. Passar and Dionísio (from Forum Terra) – they three make up basically the staff of the two NGOs. Both have though a Managing Board that sits (in optimal case) every month, but they only deal with overall, strategic issues.

What are we doing concretely? We sit down and think it over for instance how the information flow could be better between the forum and its members, how they should keep account of who their members are, what they do and whether actually they regularly pay their membership fee. Or how one makes a contact list and how one organises the documents in the folder or the files on the computer so that one will find it later too. And such further pormenorities (among others), what a header of a letter is like, what you put on a flyer, what never or what you shall include in a conference folder. So all from the basics. Besides, I assist with event organisation, I have held workshop on non-verbal communication, on how a poster, a flyer or a decent presentation looks like and on such simplest basics of knowledge management like joint calendar, billboard, internal manual, weekly staff meeting or contact list. But on my part, I am only advising, I never do it for them  otherwise neither would they develop nor would the project be sustainable. That’s why assessora = consultant.

What is working in the southeast corner of Africa like?

The conditions. Frankly speaking, I am incredibly lucky. Because we have an office with window, desk and chair, and computer, printer, photocopier (though this latter is mostly out of order) and in the best periods with internet too. And we have current and water, what’s more, water closet and kitchen. For most of the Mozambican organisations this would be a luxury. Most of them cannot even afford an office, let alone having power and running water in it. For many, even buying a packet of paper means a great difficulty.
Now, that the rainy season has started, I have also witnessed an interesting, but after all, quite logical tendency: when it starts to rain, there is neither power, nor water (as water is pumped by an electric pump). If there is wind, too, power goes off already before it starts to rain. The secret: the electric wires are quite loosely fixed on the top of the line poles, therefore in case of rain and/or wind the current will be wisely shut off in advance, before a passer-by would meet a water pool and a 220 V wire hanging down at the same time. Which is not too pleasant.
Now, in the rainy season, it rains quite often. So working is not by all means easy.

Organisation and planning… According to my colleague, “in Africa, people plan for three days: for today, for tomorrow and for the day after tomorrow.” Everything beyond that is unplannable. Therefore, the invitations arrive at most 2 to 3 days before. And how? The post is expensive and slow (and not by all means reliable), out of 10 organisations probably 0,5 has an e-mail address, on phone it is not enough, because the official paper with a nice stamp is important (the network is anyway mostly out of reach). So remains the personal delivery. That can take up to a half day per invitation given the coverage and speed of the public transport. Outside 35 degrees and dead calm.
Reply, perhaps confirmation of participation is rather seldom. When there is one, it still means no certainty. So did we travel to Dacata already twice, situated some 200 kms from Chimoio, in 40 degrees, the whole way on dirt road, in the matter of a land conflict. And the mayor had purely accidentally had to leave just one day before, although he had confirmed he would be there. He has a cell phone, but his secretary does not know his number (!)… Neither does his wife… Another mobile has the number saved, but it is not recharged, and there is no credit on it anyway, so from that you cannot find it out.
True, you also do not have to always over-organise everything: just as that lorry driver did who, lacking own lamps, grasped the opportunity and quickly made after us on the road without illumination (though it is not that visible, but I recommend looking at the state of the bodywork).

Communication and education… According to the same colleague of mine, we, Europeans explain straightforward and exact. Whereas they, Africans, paraphrase it twice and he was drawing an endlessly swirling spiral with his hand. Moreover, we, Europeans get right away to the point. In contrast, here first you have to enquire how the other one is doing, how he slept the night before, if the family is also doing well and how the work is going – all before you could put your real question. In similar baroque phrases and euphemisms are written most of the letters and speeches, too. And that’s how the standard directions sound: “Where can I find the market?” “It is down there.” “Where down there?” “There, that way, down there.” “But where exactly down there?” “I am saying, that way, there, down there.” “Ok, but half of the country is down there from here…” When I show them my map, the locals usually just laugh, where I got such a thing.

My other map-experience mirrors the quality of general education. I was curious if three young leaders from three member organisations, roughly at my age, knew where Hungary was. It did not really go, therefore I asked them to show Europe and the other continents. Africa and Australia did not mean any difficulties. Neither did America, though the US was once placed to be in South-America. Asia became bigger, but that much that it embraced the whole of Europe. Our old continent ended up being solely on Greenland. Out of three only one knew where Europe’s borders ran and interestingly, he approached the continent from the once coloniser Portugal. Of course, we would also not know all the countries of all the continents, but I believe at least in the position of the continents we would not go mistaken.
One of them quickly explained it to me: they learn though the continents and some of the countries, but since there is no single map in their school (and in most of the schools), they have yet never seen where those continents are actually floating on our globe.

The quality of education and early childhood development bleeds actually from many wounds and scars. According to my experience, the development of logical skills, abstracting and summarizing skills, formulation and drafting skills as well as the real mastering of addition-subtraction-multiplication-division and percentage calculation comes to a halt somewhere halfway. Let alone the orthography. That’s how the following dialogue can occur: “This is already a completely new thought, start rather in a new paragraph.” “Ok.” “Not in a new line, a new paragraph.” “What is a paragraph?” However, in classes of 60 to 80 pupils and in that much equipped classrooms and schools this must be all but no surprise. Yet, in a country with an illiteracy rate of nearly 56 % everything is a big result? Where should we start?

I would lie if I said it is not difficult. But I would lie too if I said, it is not worth.
I am lucky, because I have such colleagues – and this is not the case in every development project – who understand and feel why either communication or knowledge management is important for their organisation. And who themselves would also like to develop. They bring initiatives, ask for help and also give a hand. Besides, also as a person they are open and hospitable. Thus, unlike some of my consultant colleagues, I do not have to convince the partner organisation each day that you do have to make effort for the development. Some colleagues, unfortunately, have to, even if they are working in so important areas as e.g. water network planning or fight against HIV/AIDS. And this means an amount of time that is hard to make up later.

Of course, sometimes I am doing things that would not be my tasks. But I do it gladly, since of what a great help it is here if a project proposal worth 2000 dollars is submitted typed in and not hand-written. Or if they can just quickly send an e-mail through me. Or if they can print out a letter for free and so can save 5 meticais (10 eurocents). That’s what the dictionary calls reality.
And the sad reality is to see those young people who create an association (never legalised since that would cost a fortune) in order to do something against the spreading of HIV/AIDS or to protect the orphans of their bairro or to set-up a small library (but bringing the books every afternoon home, otherwise they would be stolen since the door and windows of their building has no grid) – seeing all this enthusiasm and knowing where they go home… and where I go home. Because compared to them, I am kind of going home to the Buckingham palace…
And because the vast amount of work and time that they now put into their work may only bring a change after 2 or 3 generations. If it brings any. Since in the meantime, there is yet politics, AIDS, floods and drought. And corruption and economic crisis. But luckily, of commitment there is no shortfall.
Although, this coin too has another side: for many, creation of an organisation serves only for income-generation, thanks to the standards of living and lack of employment. Just on the contrary to us, at home: where no one would create an NGO so that he can well make his living out of it…

Yet, on my way to work, I also get amused sometimes. And the locals’ good humour also help me in that. The other day, for instance, someone could not squeeze himself into the fourth place in the row on the chapa because his back end proved to be too big. So he had to march over into another row where only skinnier were sitting yet. Not only him, but the whole chapa kept laughing at it for at least 2 minutes. How would it have happened at home, most probably? The one with the big back would have felt himself fully ashamed, while the passengers would have gripped their belly out of gloating…
And sometimes the names are also quite entertaining: I have a colleague named Eduard Milk, I have already talked to an Anthony Soap and a Michael Lantern while last week I listened to the lecture of a John Fly.

5+1+10 … Gorongosa National Park

The addition refers to the number of elephants, but about this a bit later.

A little safari, on a November weekend. The nearly 4000-square-meter Gorongosa National Park is an old-new pearl of Mozambique situated in the middle of the country, some 140 kms from Chimoio.

With some luck, you can get a shot of elephants, buffalos, zebras, elands, African and a dozen other kinds of antelopes, wildebeest, a half dozen sort of monkeys, lions, leopards, wild dogs, crocodiles, hippos, more than 400 bird species and a number of other animals, primarily in the early morning and late afternoon hours, when they are the most active.

This diversity in itself is, however, misleading. In the beginning of the 80s the park was home to nearly 2.000 elephants, 14.000 wild buffalos and with its 500 species to the largest lion population of Africa. But during the civil war lasting from 1976 to 2002 the park became the scene of one of the fiercest fightings, and by the end of the war many of the large mammal populations have been reduced by at least 90 %. Both the soldiers of state-party FRELIMO and rebel RENAMO slaughtered elephants for their ivory to buy arms and munitions, shot zebras, wildebeests and buffalos to get calorie, lions and other predators were hunted for sport or they died of starvation after their prey had disappeared. After the end of the war the uncontrolled and cruel hunting yet went on for two more years. Only the park’s birdlife has survived the destructions relatively unscathed.

Between 1994 and 1998 Gorongosa has been taken up by the African Development Bank and in 2004 by the American non-profit Carr Foundation. The rehabilitation programme of Carr planned for 20 years has the objective to restore and protect the park’s ecosystem and engage the local communities living around the park in sustaining the ecosystem through creating employment, teaching to sustainable agriculture and upgrading local schools and health institutions.

Right at the entrance a monkey-parade: on the left, on the right, small and big ones, alone or with the entire family, on branches, on the side and the middle of the road, as if we weren’t even there. Inside the park they are significantly calmer, were just right meditating when we arrived. Later an antelope family showed up, then a sable was eyeing us long, while the warthog just kept on wallowing in the mud, the mongoose took it similarly easy and the African fish eagle was just observing from the branch.

But between, behind and near them, we were just scanning everywhere for elephants. And patience seems to yield not a rose, but elephant in Africa, so after we drove into a track that had already been closed by the afternoon, there we got our wanted elephant herd. Who were actually just about to leave when we arrived. One of them stepped out of the group and left for the other direction, sadly and lonely, or at least he seemed so from his big hanging ears. We were not sure if this was just a trick to divert our attention because they noticed us or it was an elephant party-crisis that we were witnessing.

Here returning to the formula… 5+1+10=16

This was not the total number of elephants that we saw in the park. Just that “big family” with which we were waiting for each other to leave. If they left, we would not. But if we did, would they too? This was that we could not really figure out, and it only meant a problem because they were standing 20 meters from us on the two sides of the road. We had waited for some 10 minutes and then we decided to set off. And patience this time yielded free way and not elephants, we started and, luckily, they did not. And after us they also crossed the road.

The following morning we visited the waterfall gurgling on Mount Gorongosa. A sad panorama accompanies you on the way: most of the mountain’s forests has been cut or burnt down. According to the park’s website, if the human activity (shifting agriculture, uncontrolled burnings, wood cutting) continues at the same rate, which means today the biggest threat to the mountain’s ecosystem, the rare and endangered species will disappear, the Vunduzi and Muera rivers will become useless, polluted pools and the forests will need centuries to recover.

In the rainiest months – from mid-December to the beginning of March – the park is closed, so those interested shall schedule their safari plans for the remaining period of the year.

On the grapevine and matope

Matope. That’s how the mud-sea is called that is stretching in front of our house cross- and lengthwise. And we are just in the beginning of the rainy season.

I am only writing on the story of how I have found a house, because that is also very typical. On my first day I thought to spend the remaining one hour in a café until my temporary host finished her job. As soon as I arrived, three older men invited me to join their table. Which I did not really dare to accept („Great, I will be sold on my very first day…” – I thought), but one should not be so rude already on her very first day… So I was sitting with them, a little embarrassed, diligently answering their questions, where I was from, what I was doing here, how long I was going to stay, where I was living… At this point I heartened up and asked them to let me know if they knew of something. Ten minutes later I was sitting with a local “property broker”, Estrela, in front of me, with whom I quickly arranged then two flat visits for the following day.

On the grapevine… My encounter with “an Estrela” was actually just a question of time. There is no advertisement magazine, no real estate agency, nor to-let-for-sale board in the corner deli. News on flats and houses to rent get round on the grapevine, just like the folk tales. So the most practical is to ask around and ask from everyone. As probably everyone knows someone, but definitely knows a “local broker”. I learned from Estrela that there are in total ten brokers in the town, doing the business mostly as moonlighting, and unofficially, for some honorary fee, generally for the amount of one-month rent. But if the broker is smart, he or she can collect a month rent both from the landlord and the tenant, without each knowing about that. I have learned too that each broker has its own territory – and they respect it. Which may very well be true, because some days ago Estrela stopped me on the street and told me: “If you meet that man who was sitting there with us in the café back in May, please do not tell him that I arranged the house for you! Say that you have found it alone, ok?!”

Our bairro is called Tambara 2. Allegedly, it got its name after the fact (and this time I believe all facts), that it is situated so far-far away from the centre that the district of Tambara in the northernmost corner of the province about 350-400 kms from Chimoio…
Around 7 to 8 years ago Tambara 2 used to be bush. Since then, in line with the population growth it has slowly been built-up: towards the centre with huts mostly from mud, rarely from brick, while towards the edge of town with modern larger stone houses (will they be that if once they get completed). And an airplane is also being built opposite us – which is, according to the news, going to be a hotel.

Though we are living in the edge of the bairro (and the town) as well as behind a mud-sea, the location could not be more perfect. On the one hand, we have an exemplary view to the head of the old man. Whose proper touristic name is Cabeça de Velho. It is in fact the only real sight of Chimoio, an about 700-meter high hill, which looks like an old man’s head from the side.

But why the location is more perfect: in the mornings when we go on foot, walking through the bairro on the red soil road winding among the huts, between chickens, goats and vegetable stalls, amidst the morning cheerfulness, accompanied by laughter of kids waving great with little palms and sometimes by fellow-walkers joining us half-way – then you get a taste of real Mozambique – Chimoio.

My project is carried out within the framework of the Junior Expert Programme (NFP – Nachwuchsförderungsprogramm) of German Development Service (DED – Deutscher Entwicklungsdienst – www.ded.de). The coordination and background support for my participation were provided by the Hungarian Volunteer Sending Foundation (HVSF – www.hvsf.hu).