The need for longer days

So it is now 13 January and I haven't done anything with my dissertation in two weeks. Do I feel guilty? Absolutely and I can only foresee things getting more difficult. My Mew Year's resolution was to work more efficiently so that I could accomplish what I needed to. I'm am getting more work done, but now I have more work.

In addition to my dissertation write up and teaching introductory anthropology, I'm putting together a photo exhibition for May. My friends Natalina and Ventris, professors at Santa Monica College in California, wrote a grant for a symposium on global citizenship at their university. I met Natalina and Ventris in Mozambique where Natalina and I were both Fulbrighters. The symposium is a series of events over the course of a week that will "focus the college's attention to the multitude of perspectives pertaining to food security, environmental changes (both climate and markets) and HIV/AIDS in Mozambique." There will be panel discussions, ethnic dance performances, the photo essay exhibition, and a food crisis banquet organized by OxFam International.

Natalina and I are both contributing to the photography exhibition - our photos and the photos our informants took of their lives. 500 pictures. 500. Most of them will be coming from my end. Epa! That is way lots of work choosing the topics and the photos to fit these topics, then writing up a blurb. I plan to do some photo groupings to reduce some of the blurbs. :)

The exhibit is titled, From the Bush to the Market: Buffering Food Security and Environmental Changes. When it is finished we hope to have it exhibited elsewhere and perhaps post at least some of the exhibition online. At any rate, I need more time in the day to get everything done.

Mozambican Music

I'm in a bit of a mood today and thought I would post some music/video from Mozambique. Enjoy!

Wazimbo - Nwahulwana (Night Bird)


Wazimbo plays Marrabenta, and this is a classic example of that type of music. During colonial times the music was often played on homemade instruments, sung in Ronga or Changaan, and spoke of social issues or love. Needless to say, the Portuguese government didn't always appreciate the sentiments expressed. Nwahulwana, or night bird, is a metaphor for a woman who flits from bar to bar after dark.

Azagaia - A Marcha


Azagaia is the Portuguese spelling for assegai - a type of light spear tipped with iron and used by traditional warriors in southern Africa. Much of Azagaia's music deals with political issues, unlike a lot of the rap/hip hop heard on US radio stations (Or maybe it's just that I live in Georgia and they only play Dirty Souf on the airwaves). This song is about political corruption, revolution, and how it affects the lives of the people.

Azagaia - Povo no Poder (People in Power)


Azagaia was called before Maputo's prosecutors to explain the lyrics in "Povo no Poder," which was written in response to the violence of the 5 February riots (lyrics on the click through). People in Maputo struck to protest a 50% rise in public transport fares. Police fired into the crowd killing at least 3 and injuring 30. Amnesty International cited this incident in a report on Mozambique this April denouncing police abuse.

Massukos - Niassa


Massukos sings of the hardships of living in their home province of Niassa and in Mozambique. They also use their music to spread messages like "more condoms, less partners." The lead singer, Feliciano dos Santos won the 2008 Goldman Environmental Prize on behalf of his NGO which seeks to improve water quality, sanitation, and waste management and raise awareness of HIV in rural villages. I think it is really cool that one of this year's prizes went to a Mozambican musician.

I didn't set out to post such political music. It must be the anthropologist in me that seeks out social/cultural commentary in art. It just helps that it is good music.

The Monster

I'm back stateside. Today is day 10. My friends and acquaintances keep asking about culture shock - or The Monster, as my friend Jessica calls it. I can't say that I've really felt The Monster's presence. I've had a couple of glimpses - homes don't have fences with razor wire on top, cops don't carry AK-47s, I can eat tofu - but nothing that has made me feel odd or uncomfortable.

I miss Mozambique and my friends back in Madjadjane, Gala, Maputo, and Limpopo NP. I miss my friends in South Africa too. I miss the warm temperatures, the friendliness of people, the smells, the noise, the non-plastic feel of life... I have trouble sleeping through the night. Maybe The Monster's name is Saudade. Por que tenho saudade para Moçambique.

In the coming months, I'll be working on my dissertation and finishing up graduate school. I still have plenty of photos and stories from Mozambique that I will post from time to time, however, for practical purposes this blog will become more of an anthropologist's adventures in her own culture and environment wherever that may be. I hope that you will continue reading.

Good People

Where’d all the good people go?
I’ve been changing channels and I don’t see them on the tv shows.
Where’d all the good people go?
We’ve got heaps and heaps of what we sow.

- Jack Johnson, Good People

The United States doesn't exactly have the best of reputations in the world right now. I frequently find myself cringing when people bring up the war in Iraq, and sometimes even apologizing for the stupidity of my government (for various reasons). But I am always quick to point out that the people of the United States, it's citizens, are not the government. At least not anymore. I am really proud to say that good people do still exist in the United States and I wanted to devote a little space here to point out a couple.

A number of people read my blog and have sent enquiries about helping out the communities where I work. This blog is devoted to them.

First there is Kesshi. I don't know his real name, but I met him online at a news conglomeration site. We may not always see eye to eye, but he has a good heart. At Christmas, he dropped me an email to see if I needed a laptop. He was buying one of the "One Child, One Laptop" computers and the company was offering a deal. Buy one, get a second for reduced price sent anywhere in the world. It hasn't yet arrived, but when it does the computer will go to the primary school in Madjadjane. I wish I had a second one to give to the primary school in Gala, but maybe by the time I return for more research I will have another to donate.
Children of Escola Primaria de Madjadjane with Professor Adriano
The next group I would like to give a shout out to is the Stone Street Presbyterian Church of Watertown, NY. This is my parents' church. I gave a presentation to the church about my research and the communities where I work this past January. Many of the people in the church are farmers or retired farmers, and they were very interested in the farming done in southern Mozambique. The congregation regularly raises and donates money for famine and disaster relief, but this time they decided to donate some money to learning. They sent me money enough to buy notebooks, pencils, pens, maps, and other school supplies to give to both the primary schools in Gala and Madjadjane. I have already given the school directors the maps and some books which they were really happy to get. At Gala, the world map was at least 25 years old - the USSR was still shown as a country. Tomorrow I am off to buy some books and general classroom equipment.

As a side historical note, the Presbyterian Church (and other church groups) has always taken an interest in Mozambican education. Some of the revolutionary leaders that fought for Independence were educated in Presbyterian schools. The state education system prior to Independence offered education to black Mozambicans up to grade 3 and no classes were taught in local languages - unlike the church supported schools.
Class in Escola Primaria de Gala
Finally, I want to thank my parents. Both taught school for a combined (minimum) 70+ years and are now retired. However, they still are very concerned with education and learning and children. Education and learning has always been a priority in my family. It was always "When you go to university..." not "If you go to university...". Learning opens the doors to many opportunities and cannot be taken away from you. When they heard about the conditions of teachers and schools in the communities where I work AND that my field assistant was working so that he could pay to finish high school, they decided to send me some money to help out. Their donation will help with buying classroom books and equipment, repairing the teacher's house and school roof, and send my assistant on to finish his final year of high school. I already put money in the community bank for my assistant, Salema, to continue school for the next 3 years, but this last bit will help him attend the final year of school in Maputo. As for the teacher's house and school roof, both roofs leak and there are no windows, so hopefully they will be able to make some repairs. As a former teacher myself, I know how difficult it can be to teach if you aren't sleeping well or are living in poor conditions.

Good people do still exist, but many times they don't know where or how to help others. Many times their donations don't end up with those who need it most. The chief of Madjadjane spent over an hour explaining to me how monies donated to charity often end up lining the pockets of people in Maputo or the money is just used to help the poor in Maputo and never makes it out to the provinces. He told me that it is better when people donate directly and the brancos come and deliver the materials themselves - so no one is taking a cut. Despite all the running around I have done in the past couple of days, I am happy that I could facilitate the donations.

I want to end with one of my favorite quotes about learning and education. School is not free in Mozambique and many parents save up to send their children to school - all the while earning less than $1 USD per day. They want their children to have choices in the future.

You have to study and learn so that you can make up your own mind about history and everything else, but you can't make up an empty mind. Stock your mind, stock your mind. It is your house of treasure and no one in the world can interfere with it. You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.

- Frank McCourt, Angela's Ashes

Confronting a Prejudice

I have finally finished all my interview work (for now). I return to Madjadjane on Wednesday to give a presentation on my research - purpose, preliminary results, and photos of the community.

Catharanthus roseus
This last week of interviews was really difficult. I am burnt out on interviews, much of the interview was devoted to saying good-bye (for now), and I was physically exhausted. Many people that I didn't interview, but passed on the road or passed by their homes, stopped me for a chat and said that they will really miss me. I will really miss them too.

Madjadjane, and Gala, are the type of communities that just don't seem to exist in the United States anymore. People make jokes about "it takes a village to raise a child" but this really happens. So does Ubunto, and knowing all your neighbors, and sharing what you have even if it isn't much, and pooling resources to get a bigger project accomplished.

One of my good friends, Sr. Mateus (who loves to talk) told me this week that he was glad I came and stayed, and hopes that I can return soon. But besides that, he told me that my questions about how people and culture and landscape are tied together opened many people's minds. He felt pride in where he came from and his community. That made me feel good - like I had accomplished something tangible and useful.

So what does this have to do with prejudice? During the interviews this past week I spent a significant amount of time asking about plant identification and use. Over the past 9 months I took photos of plants people mentioned during interviews and plants that caught my eye or were common in the community. A couple of the plants were very pretty flowers (photos in this blog). During the interview, people mentioned how beautiful these flowers were. They might not know the names, but they all said that people planted these flowers in their yards to make their homes beautiful.

I was surprised that people would plant flowers to make their homes beautiful. These flowers have no other utility for most people (specialists did mention that one species could be used as a medicine). I had assumed that residents didn't have the time or the space to plant anything around their home that had no utility as a food or a medicine. Or that they would even care about making their homes beautiful. They do talk about different trees being beautiful, but most trees around homes were already growing when the homes were built. Also, these trees usually provide fruits, medicines, or construction materials.

When I realized the depth of the assumption I had made, I felt horrible. Why wouldn't poor people/African farmers care about making their homes beautiful? Why wouldn't they see beauty in their surroundings? Why should brancos corner the market on landscaping?

I think that my prejudice stems from the fact that the landscaping in cities like Maputo, Pretoria, and other African cities I've visited is modeled on a Western ideal. The people I see landscaping are low level workers, usually black. I never thought that they might take an interest in the work other than that it was a job that paid the bills. I also think that some of my horror in the discovery comes from my own research and reactions to Westerners who describe agriculture in southern Mozambique as messy, wasteful, and inefficient. I always answer that multi-cropping milho (maize), squash, bean, and peanut helps keep soil fertility and conserves biodiversity. And all those "weeds" are medicines or wild foods.

The African landscape is different in many respects from an American or European landscape. I find the African landscape very beautiful, but at the African household scale I still carried some baggage. I'm glad that my mind was opened, and I was forced to rethink my point of view.


I would identify the plants in this blog, unfortunately I have already mailed home all my plant identification guides. I'll post the species if anyone is interested when I return to the States.

Teleporting & Viruses

This Wednesday I took a trip to Nelspruit to mail off 2 boxes of books. As I stood in line at Ressano Garcia border crossing on the return it really hit me. I have only one month left here in Mozambique. People have been asking me about leaving now for the past couple of months, but until I got that stamp it really didn't register that this was the last time I would be crossing into Mozambique at this border. I will be going to Kruger for a conference later in April, but I will cross the border in the park.

I will miss Mozambique. To tell you the truth, the only parts about the US that I have missed are my family and friends, and my washing machine. I will miss my friends here in Mozambique. No, I should say extended family. The communities of Madjadjane and Gala accepted me, taught me about their history, culture, and life with patience and generosity, helped me when I needed it, warned me to be extra careful in South Africa, were concerned when I was sick, shared what little they had, offered to build me a house, and asked me not to leave. I sometimes wish I had a teleporting machine or a portable hole that would allow me to travel easily from one country to another.

They (whoever they are) say that you can never really leave Africa once you have lived here. That it is a virus that infects your blood with longing. There is more than a grain of truth to this I think.

Tenho saudade

Sometimes being apart from people and places puts things into better perspective. Over the past month, I've been on the road in Botswana and South Africa with my husband Chris. It was fantastic to see him and just be with him. I hadn't realized just how deeply I missed him until I saw him walk through the doors at Johannesburg's airport. We had many an adventure on our road trip through Botswana and I will post more pictures and text over the few days.

After he left for home in the States, via a brief stopover in northern Spain, I traveled down to Port Elizabeth, South Africa for the 2007 Society for Conservation Biology meetings. I gave 2 presentations, both of which seemed well received. Again, I will post more about that in the days to come. There is a small, but interesting, development regarding my talk about the historic wildlife trade in this region, but that is all I want to say for now. I'm not gonna count my chickens yet...

When the conference finished, I headed back to Maputo. I had to pick up a new set of keys, which then proceeded not to work. My keys were stolen in Botswana (more to come on that particular adventure). So, I called my building supervisor, Sr. Zimba (cool name, huh?). He got a locksmith out to drill out the padlock that closes the rebar door. All houses seem to have 2 doors here. The wooden one and the rebar door with a padlock. Double the protection, but a pain if you don't have the right keys. Anyway, for $6 he drilled out my lock using a hand drill that matches the one I inherited from my Grandpa Shaffer. Now I have another use for the drill. Woohoo!

After that, I walked over to my favorite neighborhood grocer, stopping to greet people along the way. My apartment guards, the shoe repair/shine man that sits under the tree by the cafe, the young man who sells phone calls on a little table outside my door, the little kids that play in the parking lot behind my apartment, the ladies that sell vegetables and fruits to me from the sidewalk... even the grocer asked where I'd been and how I was doing. Just today, I dropped into the archives to get a paper and the archivists not only remembered me after a 3 month absence, we had a really interesting conversation about why I was replacing that particular paper and the economic conditions in southern Africa in general.

Then there was just the comfort of a familiar setting too. My things, my bed, no living out of a bag or the back of a small car, the warm temperatures, the sound of Portuguese and Rhonga/Changaan, the constant stream of greetings and well wishing, the bumpty-bump of a chapa ride accompanied by loud music (Ridin' Dirty is a great chapa song), my hot shower, the rolling electrical blackouts... Okay, so I wasn't so nostalgic for the electricity thing.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that some part of me really missed Mozambique - the place, the people, the atmosphere. I have to say that I was more than a bit surprised. I still miss my husband, Chris, lots, and certainly miss my parents, my brother, my in-laws, and my friends because I love them all. I don't know if I would go as far to say I missed my family and Mozambique for the same reasons. But I think that there is a certain element of longing in each of the cases.

Perhaps this is what the Portuguese speakers mean when they talk about Tenho saudade. Lusophones say that saudade is not definable in the English language. From what I can gather, it includes ideas of longing, love, nostalgia, pining, missing, and some indefinable aspect that I'm told you know it when you experience it. At any rate, I'm going to use it to cover both my feelings for my family and Mozambique - even if the feelings are slightly different.

A nonTraditional Hash Wedding

Every Saturday that I am in Maputo and not sick, I run with the Maputa Hash House Harriers. It is a fun way to spend a Saturday afternoon and Hashers are drinkers with a running problem. get out to see places that I might not go on my own. After the run, we go back to the Maputo Aeroclube (where we're based) for a drink. Hashers like to think of themselves as drinkers with a running problem. Most people have a beer. Sometimes I go for a beer, sometimes a Fanta. Mozambicans bottle beer in 40 oz. bottles so I only drink if I can find someone to split it. 40 oz. is way too much (for me anyway).

On Saturday last, after the run, we had an impromptu and nontraditional Hash wedding. The wedding party were all Hashers and the 50% of the guests hashed. The other 50% were either relatives of the bride and groom or locals who just laughed and shook their heads at our craziness. Wonder Woman and Hotzenplotz were married in an official ceremony a few weeks earlier in Europe. This one was just part of a party to celebrate with their friends here in Mozambique.


The couple had an Irish "pope" (Big Gun) preside over their nuptials which included promising to love, keep each over inebriated, and overlook the occasional sheep shagging (bride promised) or milkman (groom promised). An acappella Hash version of "Amazing Grace" ensured that the musical bases were covered. The locals sang the real words to the hymn in Changaan.


Before kissing one another, the bride and groom had to drink a down-down (i.e. a beer). That made some of the older local men and women looking on chuckle. Afterwards everyone shouted, ululated, yipped, howled, laughed, and expressed their happiness at yet another couple being committed.

Parabens Wonder Woman and Hotzenplotz!

Rare Species Discovered

A rare species of tree grows in Mozambique - the boy tree. These boys were trying to get a good view of the Hash mock wedding ceremony I attended Saturday afternoon - more on that later.

I will keep my eye out for a girl tree.

Microcredit in Matutuine District

Last year, Dr. Muhammed Yunus and the Grameen Bank (the bank he created in Bangladesh) shared the Nobel Peace Prize for an idea that is helping people help themselves get out of poverty. Microcredit loans provide individuals the capital they need to do things like buy farm animals to raise for profit or a sewing machine to set up a tailoring shop or repair a vehicle that they use to transport goods and people. I've even heard of women buying cell phones with microloans, and then becoming the telephone service provider for their entire community.

Very few individuals default on these tiny loans. There is pride and social pressure, and people who default on loans cannot borrow again. But also, as monies are repaid, they get reinvested in new entrepeneurs. Many of the microloans go to women. In the short term, this allows women to support their families and send their children to school. In the long term, it raises their political, economic, and social status.

Today, as I was reading the BBC news online, I came across a site that connects loaners directly to low-income entrepreneurs in the developing world. You actually can pick where and to whom you want to loan money. The basic amount the loaner contributes is $25, which is about 12 large regular coffees at a fancy coffee shop.

Crap, I sound like some sort of Sally Struthers advert for starving children in Ethiopia. Cue the flies and suffering please.

I'm not writing this because I drank their koolaid or they slipped me a 1000 metacais under the table, but because I think that it is a pretty cool idea. Also, because they are operating in Matutuine District, Mozambique where I work. Right now there are 62 small businesses that have started, 63% owned by women, with an average loan size of $800. People have bought chickens, set up small grocery stores, repaired vehicles to run bus services, and repaired fishing boats and nets. In many cases, the entrepreneurs are now employing other people (and thus supporting their families). I've actually bought dry goods from one of the women entrepreneurs listed on Kiva. She operates a little loja (store) in Salamanga. Now I know how she started up her business.

The average wage in Mozambique is less than $1 per day. Things cost less, but people still work pretty damn hard for that less than $1. There are very few beggars here, most people would rather offer some sort of service or product in return for your spare change - carrying your purchases at the market, watching your car (people love to steal anything removable, including the car), selling batiks, hawking fruit and veg on the sidewalk, etc.

Occasionally, I'll have this moment where I get all weirded out thinking about the fact that I'm carrying around more money in my pocket than some Mozambicanos see in a week of working. Then I usually do something like buy roasted peanuts (that I don't necessarily want to eat right then) from barefoot and raggedly clothed 7 year olds hawking them on the street when they should be in school. But, of course, they can't go to school because they can't afford the $4 uniforms, school supplies, or tuition fees, and/or they are orphaned with no one to care them.

I'll continue to buy roasted peanuts, but loaning money directly to people with plans to put it to good use is something I can support as well.

Just another link if you are interested in Kiva:
You Too Can Be A Banker To The Poor - Nicholas Kristof

The Zen of Waiting

Espera. Espera. Breathe in. Espera. Espera. Breathe out.

I do a lot of waiting in Mozambique. Time runs differently here. The viscosity of time varies more widely depending on the scale. On a minute by minute, day to day basis, it flows very slowly. I find myself waiting on appointments, waiting for businesses to reopen after the two hour lunchtime, waiting for emails to appear in my inbox, waiting for meetings to be held so that I can consider beginning my interviews, waiting to get out to the reserve... As I look back to January, the time has flown rapidly. It seems like I only just arrived, and I get nervous about completing the research tasks I have set for myself.

Waiting is tough for me. Chris says that I am high strung (anxious) and I won't disagree. Waiting forces me to recognize that I have no control and I just need to go with whatever happens. Letting go like this is a very difficult practice for me. Yet, amazingly things always turn out. Maybe a little later than I would like, but you can't always get what you want.

Espera. Espera. Breathe in. Espera. Espera. Breathe out.

The students I work with, particularly the anthropologists, find it funny that I am always on time or a little early. "That's so American." They tell me. "A Mozambicano will be at least 30 minutes late, if not 3 hours. That's why we carry cell phones; so we can call to see if the other person even remembered we were supposed to meet." We laugh.

But it is very American of me. Vania and Linda, both anthropology undergraduates, are good about meeting with me on time. The latest they have ever been is 20 minutes. Understandable for 2 serious, intelligent, and beautiful young woman busy with coursework, jobs, and being young and single. They are also hip to American culture and we talk lots about differences between our respective cultures. Maybe it's that they are anthropologists, but I appreciate their understanding.

Espera. Espera. Breathe in. Espera. Espera. Breathe out.

Are you HIV positive?

Sometimes conversations can be real downers. Yesterday, I had one of those talks with my friends Natalina and Ventris. They are visiting researchers in political science and history from the U.S.. Natalina has been studying Mozambique's informal markets, and grassroots organization for HIV/SIDA support and education. During the course of her market research she kept meeting HIV positive women trying to support their families. This led to her current exploration of the HIV/SIDA crisis in Mozambique. She interviews HIV positive individuals (mainly women), as well as medical staff at hospitals and clinics throughout the country.

We were talking about marriage and living apart from your spouse for long periods for research. Like Chris and I, she and Ventris were apart for a long period when she first came out to Mozambique. So Natalina has a sympathetic ear when it comes to me talking about missing my husband.

I mentioned to her a conversation that I had last weekend with my husband Chris. I told him that he didn't need to ever worry about me cheating on him in the field because (1) I love him very much, but also (2) the first thing I think when I meet someone new here is, "Are you HIV positive?"

I feel horribly guilty admitting this, even though it in no way affects my interaction with a person. The reason I think about their HIV status is because I wonder how long I will be able to interact with them and enjoy our potential friendship. They could get hit by a truck tomorrow (and so could I, given the driving in Maputo), so really, their HIV status doesn't matter. However, I am sensitive to other people's pain. It saddens me thinking about the illness that they will most likely experience in the future if they are HIV positive (or the pain of losing a loved one to the disease). I don't know if that makes any sense, but there it is.

I felt guilty admitting this, but Natalina and I are good friends. We have had many conversations on a lot of strange topics. I felt a little relieved when she said that she often thinks the same thing. But she says that it is worse for her. Working with HIV positive people makes you hyperaware of HIV/SIDA's symptoms. Natalina says the number of people walking around in Maputo with symptoms of HIV, if you know what to look for, is shocking - much higher than the official rate would indicate.

The official rate given by the CDC for Mozambique is around 16%. The real rates are much higher than the official counts. Many people refuse to be tested, and others refuse to admit that they are sick (particularly men). These selfish individuals continue to have unprotected sex (with both spouses and others), thus spreading the virus even further. Serial killing wife after wife after girlfriend. According to a 2006 UN report, the rates for pregnant women ages 15-45 have increased dramatically since 2000 (countrywide 11% in 2000 to 16% in 2004). In Maputo province, the rates for pregnant women rose to 18-27% in 2004. Most of the official statistics are based on HIV rates in pregnant women, since they seek treatment to prevent their unborn children from being HIV positive.

Unofficially, the rate for Maputo Province is probably around 45% - based on observations by medical personnel. That means that every other person I meet is probably HIV positive. Natalina interviewed a public clinic nurse on Ilha de Mocambique (Nampula Province, up north) who says in 10 years (maximum) that the island will be empty of people. Everyone the nurse has tested has been HIV positive, and she has worked around HIV positive people long enough to know the symptoms and diagnose the effects of the virus in the untested.

Many in the aid community and Mozambicanos believe that people up north have lower rates because they are Muslim. Bullshit. Men sleep around. So do some women, although it seems to be more common among men (but who are those men sleeping with?). It doesn't matter whether they are Muslim, Christian, or practice traditional religions. It doesn't matter how faithful a person is if their spouse sleeps around. In many cases here, a woman cannot ask her husband to use a condom for fear of being beaten - even if she knows that she is HIV positive. Women can be kicked out of the family compound when their husband dies from SIDA related complications - blamed for his death and left with nothing. SIDA orphans wander the capital barefoot, begging for a few metacais to buy bread to eat and picking through the garbage to find food and valuable things to resell.

I remember a long time ago in junior high school when AIDS was a new thing. That was a very long 23 years ago.

Cracking the Code

It’s 10 pm. The electricity is out in the Coop neighborhood, so I am writing this armed with a 3-hour laptop battery and Petzl headlamp. Despite the darkness, I’ve finally cracked a code that has been teasing me for almost 2 years. A code that with some better language skills, I might not have had to figure out on my own. This "code" of Portuguese weights and measures was used by alfândega (customs) record keepers in Mozambique in the 19th century. Not terribly exciting for most people, but it means that I can now analyze some of the effects of historic wildlife trade on the landscape surrounding Delagoa Bay.

This symbol (above), as well as the @ symbol cover the pages of a notebook I carried daily during my visit to Lisbon, Portugal in the summer of 2005. I was there on a small research grant collecting data on historic wildlife exports from Delagoa Bay and its hinterland. Delagoa Bay is the old name for Maputo Bay.

Tonight, I finally figured out that the symbol is shorthand for libra (pound). Now that I know what the symbol stands for, it seems so obvious. The @ symbol refers to arrobas. What are libras and arrobas? And all the rest of the archaic weights I found?

1 bar/baar/bare = 229 kg
1 arroba = 14.9 kg = 32.41 lb
1 faraçola = 12.4 kg
1 mane = 0.95665 kg
1 arrátel = 0.459375 kg
1 libra = 0.4536 kg
1 marco = 0.2368 kg
1 onça = 0.02835 kg
1 matical = 0.00441346 kg
1 oitava = 0.0037 kg
1 panja = 5.175 to 5.52 L
1 panella = 8.4 L

These values varied depending on the port. A bar in Sofala was not the exact same weight as a bar in Ilha de Moçambique. I translated everything into kilograms because commie units, I mean SI metrics, are used for science. (BTW in doing all these weight and measure searches I learned that only 3 countries in the world do not use metrics – Myanmar, Liberia, and the United States. Interesting). I'm posting them in case someone else ever needs to track this all down. I've done many searches on the web but found nothing.

These values came from the following 2 major sources (again, just in case you ever need to cite them):

Alpers, Edward A.. 1975. Ivory and Slaves: Changing Pattern of International Trade in East Central Africa to the Later Nineteenth Century. University of California Press: Berkeley.

Nunez, Antonio. 1868 [1554]. O livro dos peços, medidas e moedas. In de Lima Felner, Roderigo J., ed. Collecção de Monumentos Ineditos Para a Historia das Conquistas dos Portuguezes em Africa, Asia e America. Tomo V. Serie 1. Historia da Asia. Typographia da Academia Real das Sciencias: Lisboa.

A big thanks go to Dr. Antonio Sopa of the UEM Archivo Histórico de Moçambique for directing me to the Nunez document.

Now, anyone know what species of southern African cat was called a "tigre" in the late 1800s in Portuguese East Africa?

5/9/07 - I discovered this morning that a "tigre" is a Large spotted genet (Genetta tigrina). The tails and skins were used as part of Tsonga and Zulu soldiers (impis) uniforms.

Things that caught my eye

I like to take pictures of things that catch my eye but don't always make sense to take (at the time). It all started with me trying to get close ups of insects and flowers. With a digital camera, my horizons have greatly expanded. I can clip smaller pictures out of bigger landscape shots and get better close ups of small things. Here are some of those pictures in no particular order.

Cabbages

Looking up through the branches of a 7m tall Terminalia sericea

Making hats in Liberdade

Racing toy cars

I pass these rapazes all the time. They are shade tree mechanics. When they're not working they like to play cards or sleep.

Elephant fetuses from the size of a dime/metical to ready to be born. This exhibit is the only one of its kind in all of Africa and can be found in the Museum of Natural History, Maputo.

Check out the hair

Tug going out to guide a larger ship into port, Bahia de Maputo

Old Afezalia quazensis seedpod with bird's nest fungi. Hornbills eat the seeds.

Local hangout

"Beijo na Mulatta" (Catharanthus roseus) - used in traditional medicine to treat diabetes, rheumatism, insect bites, warts, and gonorrhoea. Some extracts used in cancer treatments. People also plant it around their homes because the flowers are very pretty.

Boy at dusk by the roadside

Dung Beetle with food supply

Bairro lojas sell a little bit of everything and a whole lot of alcohol in various forms. My favorite brandname is "Knock Out." Hey, you can't beat honest advertising.

Dia das Mulheres de Mozambique

Today, 7 April, is Mozambican Women's Day. In honor of the day, I've sorted through my files to post pictures of Mozambicanas.

A few quick facts about Mozambicanas:

A woman's life expectancy at birth is 40.13 years.
On average, she will have 4.62 children.
32.7% of all Mozambican woman are literate.
70% of all Mozambicans live below the poverty line and make less than $300 US per year.
Of the total estimated population in 2006 of 19,686,505:
4,177,235 girls are 0-14 years old
5,519,291 women are 15-64 years old
322,412 women are 65 years and older

Famous Mozambican Women include:

1. Alcinda Abreu - Minister of Foreign Affairs & Cooperation (03 Jan 2005 - )
2. Adelaide A. Amurane - Deputy Minister of Labor (1994 - 2005)
3. Zena Bacar - Mozambican musician (singer)
4. Zena Bakar - Mozambican musician (singer)
5. Esperaça Bias - Minister of Mineral Resources (Feb 2005 - )
6. Lídia Brito - Mozambican forest scientist and Minister of Higher Education, Science & Technology (2000 - 2005)
7. Paulina Chiziane - Writer
8. Chonyl - Mozambican hip hop artist
9. Celina Cossa - Mozambican Farmer and Activist
10. Alcinda A. de Abreu - Minister of Social Action Co-ordination (1994 - 1997)
11. Luisa Dias Diogo - Prime Minister (17 Feb 2004 - )
12. Açuenca D.C.X. Duarte - Deputy Minister of Justice (1995 - 2000)
13. Isidora Faztudo - Deputy Minister of Agriculture & Fisheries (1995 - 1999)
14. Ângela Ferreira - Mozambican-born sculptor
15. Alcinda Honwana - anthropologist
16. Feodata Hunguane - Minister of Information (1986 - 1992)
17. Clarisse Machanguana - basketball player, has played in WNBA (US) and Spanish leagues
18. Graça S. Machel - human rights campaigner, Minister of Education (1975 - 1989), current Chancellor of University of Cape Town
19. Lina Magaia - short-story writer and novelist
20. Virgília Bernarda Neto Alexandre dos Santos Matabele - Minister of Women & Social Affairs (2000 - )
21. Salom M.M. Moiane - Deputy Foreign Minister (1994 - 1999)
22. Lilia Momplé - novelist, scriptwriter, and administrator
23. Maria De Lourdes Mutola - Olympic runner (2000 gold - 800m)
24. Mahommed J. Rafique - government minister
25. Frances V.V. Rodrigues - Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs & Cooperation (1994 - 2005), Ambassador to Belgium, France, Netherlands & European Union (1985 - 1994)
26. Maria dos Anjos Rosario - Secretary of State for Technical & Professional Education - Government of South Africa (1988 - 1992)
27. Nomia Sousa - Mozambique's unofficial Poet Laureate

Long Shadows

I've been reading The State of Africa: A History of Fifty Years of Independence by Martin Meredith over the past couple of weeks. It's been taking a while, not because it is dense or long (which it is), but because it is for the most part depressing.

Independence is supposed to be a good thing - democracy, peoples' right to govern themselves, citizens shaping their national future, etc. However, Martin's work chronicles 50 years of African leaders exploiting, murdering, enslaving, authorizing genocide, and in general destroying African peoples and landscapes. Some of the most disgusting and depressing parts of the book chronicle how my own country supported some of the worst leaders like Charles Taylor in Liberia or Mobutu in the Congo. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the US government also supported Pol Pot in Cambodia. Then there are all the fuck ups the US participated in politically, economically, or militarily (or are those really all the same thing?) in various countries throughout the African continent in the name of globalization and the Cold War against communism.

Anyway, each chapter chronicles one big man (and his cronies) after another bleeding the life out of the people and the land. Recent news stories about Zimbabwe demostrate that the phenomena continues. Mugabe is being sternly warned by other presidents of southern African nations, as well as his own party, to step down and not run for re-election next year. Will he? Even if he does, Zimbabwe will be suffering from the shadow of his rule for a long time.

My biggest critique is the dearth of information about Mozambique. It seems to be Africa's forgotten country - both in the popular and scientific literature. There are a few pages (out of 752 total) that discuss the war for independence from Portugal and a couple more on the RENAMO-FRELIMO conflict but not much else. Is it because Mozambique is a Lusophone country (Angola has a chapter, but it also has oil reserves and diamonds)? Is it because Mozambique is overshadowed by its neighbors, South Africa and Zimbabwe (Swaziland, Lesotho, Madagascar, and Botswana don't get much mention either)? Or something else that I am just not seeing?

Maputo From My Roof

Last week I discovered that I had access to my apartment building's roof. It is quite cool up there in the mornings and evenings and overall gets a good breeze. Of course, Google Earth does a great job of letting peer down at the landscape like supreme beings, but if you're reading this blog you probably can access Google Earth on your own. ;-)

This photo shows Avenida Lenine running southwest towards downtown and the waterfront around 0600. This shows the Ciudade de Cimento (or Cement City) that urban dwellers work and aspire to live (if they don't already).


This shot shows Avenida Lenine at 1730. My apartment building is only 6 stories high. The lens is aimed eastward towards Universidade Eduardo Mondlane which is a 15-20 minute walk from my front door. I live at the edge of the Coop bairro (pronounced coop as in chicken coop - jeez running afoul of chickens has left some karmic scars). Maputo has a lot of trees within its boundaries, many of them produce edible fruit like mangoes and mafurra (Trichilea emetica).

Not a great shot of the Ciudade de Caniço, but from up on the roof it is the best I can do. So, stay tuned for in-depth coverage of Maputo's cane suburbs. The area is called a cane city because most of the houses are hand built from recycled materials and cane. People are building cement block homes but it is a slow and expensive process.


Coop barrio at 0600. For anyone wondering why I use military time, its just easier for me. I got used to using it in the field doing ecological and anthropological research and it just stuck. Kind of like the metric system, or commie units as my brother Wil likes to call metric units.

Its fun watching people as they go about their morning business. A lot of people sleep, eat, and pretty much live outside even in the city limits. There is one family living near me with an outdoor bathtub in their backyard that gets used as a bathtub. I haven't seen any adults using it, but a bunch of little kids were enjoying the water on a hot afternoon. One of the older boys living next door at the mechanic shop sleeps outside on a mat. It is most likely cooler than being stuck inside a cement building with no fan. But before you ask, I do not spend my days peeping in on people. I do like to watch people on their way to work or coming home from school or just hanging out and chatting.
The bairro. You can sort of see the corner of a garbage pit located next door to my building. I think it originated as a basement for a building that was either knocked down or never built. At any rate, garbage migrates daily into the pit and gets burned a couple of times a week. I've been collecting pictures of garbage and recycling in Maputo to post. The smell of burning trash in Maputo is dominated by plastic with an undercurrent of rotting vegetation that leaves a vaguely nauseating afterfeeling. I have gotten used to it. It reminds me of upstate New York or Oregon on Saturday mornings, but without the distinct musty leaf smell.

Meu bairro in the other direction. I've never heard the bells toll. That's probably a good thing. Just beyond is Avenida Karl Marx - full of shops and shop keepers.