My second lesson was pretty fun, and it was well-received. Though I still don't understand everything the students are saying yet, that will come with time. The more time I spend in the classroom, the more I will understand. It feels like a slow process, but the fact is, I've only been speaking Portuguese for six weeks and already I've taught two lessons in it. Not too shabby.
It's interesting being a month away from swearing in. I think back a month ago, and I realize that it doesn't seem that long. I know we've been busy, but we've only just been able to establish a routine. I wonder what it will be like after I've established a routine at site - how the days and weeks might fly by.
It both scares me and puts my mind at ease to think that time is passing so quickly. I will relish returning to the States, catching up with my old life and starting a brand new one. OK, well, that last paragraph was for me. I know you don't want to hear about all that wishy-washy shit.
Tonight at dinner, I saw for the first time, the "right hand rule" in action. You're not supposed to hand anything to anyone with your left hand, a remnant of Arab traditions. It makes sense, though, as most people use their left hand to wipe their ass. One of those Darwinian things ("He's still alive because his family didn't serve him feces for dinner.")
My host mom had a glass in her right hand, and grabbed an empty water bottle for me to fill with my left hand. She realized her error and placed her right hand (with glass) under her left arm while handing me the water bottle. This signifies that she is excusing her dirty hand.
(Something else she does - and many people do this - is that she touches her left hand to her right elbow when receiving something, to show respect. Every time I lend her my knife - every day - she uses this form of respect. You'll see this happen during handshakes, when meeting someone respected for the first time. I've used it on several occasions.)
Also, my host dad was looking for matches (the Portuguese roughly translates to "phosphors") and I had them right in front of me. Without thinking, I grabbed them with my left hand and gave him the matches, which he proceeded to grab with his left hand. Realizing his mistake, he let go and switched hands. It was strange, but I understand the awkwardness of it all.
In other news, I made a note for myself to write about my host father's clothes. It is the best wardrobe...ever. And he's quite the snappy dresser. I'm being sarcastic.
When it's warm in the morning, he'll often wear a mesh tank top (as Carolyn said, "Yeah, quite fashionable...for 1985) and cargo shorts. He's got a few collared shirts, which he always wears with the collar up and buttons unfastened. This is a common fashion here.
It gets interesting though, then it gets "cold". By cold, I mean below 60F. JUST below. One morning, my father walked out with a petticoat on. The next morning, it was a fake fur. Oh yeah, and he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. I nagged him a little for his interesting taste in dress, and we all had a good laugh. He even complained that he was still cold, so I gave him one of my hats. I explained the logo (it's a baseball hat) and he seems to have taken to it.
I give him shit about his fashion, but really, I'm quite impressed with the amount he actually has. My two older brothers share some outfits; my host mom wears the same three tattered T-shirts salvaged from the USA; and my youngest brother often runs around nakes, except for a capulana. And it all has an American influence.
People think of malnourishment when they think of Africa, but one of the biggest things that strikes you about poverty on a daily basis is the dependence (and existence) of fashion in developed nations. In most MOZ communities, people don't dress to impress - they dress to be covered and warm. It's actually quite a relief to not be constantly concerned about fashion. Those who know me are laughing right now. (NOTE FROM MOM --- JOHN MARCHES TO HIS OWN FASHION DRUMMER...)
Essentially, I'm trying to say that you learn to do without a lot of things without much trouble, and then you look at the way things were with curiosity, humor and sometimes disdain. I did this a lot before coming here, so it's nice to have some of my views on what's REALLY necessary, vindicated.
It's funny how the only things you miss are the only things you can't buy. Especially when you don't have the money to buy them in any case!
Peace
John
