There’s not much sense in writing a play-by-play for my time in Maputo because it’s pretty much a cycle of eating, reintroducing myself to the internet (what do you people do on this thing all day?!), and sleeping. It’s been boring. More than anything, the anxiety about coming home – both good anxiety and bad – has been building for the last couple days.

I’ve felt like I’ve been saying goodbye for six weeks now. There has always been something else coming to its conclusion: school, exams, leaving Machanga, leaving Inhassoro, leaving Vilanculos, and on and on. Things have been ending bit by bit. People have been trickling out of the country week by week. I must have said goodbye a hundred to a hundred people. It has felt like it was never going to end.

But it finally hit me on Sunday night that I was actually leaving Mozambique this week. Two years, one month and three weeks later, it’s over. This didn’t hit me when I said goodbye to other Volunteer, nor did it hit me I left Machanga or arrived in Maputo. It hit me a couple hours after I spoke with my parents for the last time from home.

The finality of the phone call – the fact that it was the last phone call – didn’t do it for me. In fact, that phone call was immediately followed by a call from my grandmother. What did it for me was the last sentence at the end of our conversation: “See you on Thursday.” Not “Talk to you soon” or “Talk to you on Thursday.” “See you on Thursday.”

And even this was different from the last “See you on Thursday”, or whatever day my family arrived here in Mozambique. Sure, there was anxiety with my family coming here. After all, my family was not built for Africa – they were built for Hawaii and Caribbean cruises. I had no idea how they were going to handle the madness that is Mozambique. But that was different anxiety. That anxiety was because of them. It wasn’t their fault of course. But there was a huge sense of responsibility – at least I felt there was, anyway – that I had to keep my family safe here, that things had to go well, or as well as things can go. And maybe most importantly, it was a different kind of stress because I wasn’t going anywhere. I was “at home” in Mozambique. Everything was familiar.

Now, there’s going to be a whole new kind of stress. I’m coming home to a place that, for many reasons, I’m not going to recognize. A lot changes in two years, though it probably doesn’t feel like it when you live with it on a day-to-day basis. Remember that when I left America, there was no such thing as a mysterious piece of technology called “iPad”, “tweet” wasn’t a verb, Barack Obama wasn’t president, I didn’t have a niece, and the San Jose Sharks weren’t pathetic (oh wait, some things don’t change). Additionally, the house where I’ll be living has been moderately remodeled. I’m going to need a tour of my own house! Everything has changed.

Me included. If nothing else has happened, two years of living in the bush in Mozambique has certainly given me a fair amount of perspective. I’ve learned that I don’t really need a lot to get by, or thrive for that matter. “We’ll make it work” became a mantra that nearly killed my sister in the two weeks she was here visiting. I’ve gained a monstrous appreciation for a hot shower – especially the variety that doesn’t include a cup and a bucket. I came to enjoy wearing a sweatshirt during the few months of cold weather (relatively speaking). As I quickly found out, especially after the hot months, you can pile on as many layers as you need during the cold months, but you can only get so naked in the hot months. The list goes on and on, long enough to fit a book’s worth of lessons.

But most importantly, I figured out what I really need in my life. I guess that when you’ve stripped everything down to its bare minimum, life will give you that kind of lesson. I don’t need to be constantly connected to the internet. I don’t need a refrigerator, or twenty-four hour electricity or running water – although life certainly is better and easier with these things. I don’t need an iPad, although you can be damn sure that I’m going to at least consider buying one. What I need – really need – is a short list that all the money in the world can’t buy: family, friends, health and happiness. That’s exactly what I’m coming home to.

It’s been quite the adventure. Sometimes great, sometimes awful, occasionally exciting and often boring. That said, at the end of the day, Peace Corps life is just like America, except under slightly more extraordinary circumstances. We cook, we eat, we work, we drink, and we make friends. We laugh a lot, cry occasionally, and often want to punch a wall – until we realize that they’re either made of concrete, which would result in a broken hand; or built of bamboo, which would result in a whole in the wall.

What’s incredible– in the most literal definition of the word – is that it’s in the past tense. It’s over. It’s done. That wobbly tree-trunk canoe is pushing away from the shore toward a horizon of uncertainty. Whatever it is that’s out there, though, I know I’ll be ready for it, I know that I’ll make it work. There will most certainly be challenges along the way and frustrations that will make me long for the good old days in Mozambique, even the good old days that weren’t so good.

But it’s time. It’s time to come home. It’s time for America. It’s time for turkey and hockey and seven-dollar beers. It’s time for comfortable beds and timeliness and seeing my niece Gia for the first time. It’s time for reconnecting with old friends, both from home and American friends from here. It’s time for punctuality. It’s time to share stories and answer questions from the curious.

It’s time. I’m ready. I’m ready for what’s next.

And here it is: the last full week in Mozambique. Wow. I’d think by now that I’d start feeling something – anything – about leaving, but right now, I’m largely unemotional. I guess, for the most part, I’m just trying to soak it all in.

On the top of the list of things to soak in is this glorious summer weather. I’ll be walking into late autumn weather and hopefully it won’t be too chilly when I get home. For now, though, I wanted to get as much sun as ocean as possible. I perched myself in a chair with my book, looking out to a long, empty beach and a beautiful blue ocean, and read for the better part of the morning.

Around 11:45, I walked down to the market in search of food. I had made arrangements to go on an ocean safari in the afternoon. I figured it would be best to have at least a little food in me before heading out onto the water. I waited forty-five minutes for my food to come out, which meant I only had fifteen minutes to eat my food and get up to the dive shop.

An ocean safari is exactly what its sounds like: a safari on the ocean. Instead of going out to look for lions or elephants or zebras, like you would on a land safari, we went out looking for big ocean animals – manta rays, humpback whales, dolphins and whale sharks.

I knew moments after we hit the water that whatever lunch went down would come up very quickly. The water was choppy – not good for looking for whale sharks, not good for my stomach. Early on the trip, we came across a group of dolphins. We were able to swim with them for a bit before they scurried away.

Things went pretty poorly from there. We spend a lot of time on the boat looking for whale sharks, but they weren’t out to play tonight. Like any safari, sometimes you see a lot, sometimes you see a little. Today, we saw very little. All that time on the water did me in. With twenty minutes to go on the trip, I was leaning over the edge, saying goodbye to my chicken and rice lunch.

There was one little piece of excitement before we hit the shore. A drunk Mozambican man was swept out to sea by the heavy surf. Our boat ended up making a fairly historic rescue of this man, who clearly couldn’t sleep very well.

As usual, I immediately felt better when we hit the land. I made my way back to the hostel to grab some money for a market run. I bought some pretty normal provisions – pasta and all the ingredients for tomato sauce. When I returned, though, I was met by my new buddy Sergey. He wanted to go on the hunt for seafood, and since I didn’t have anything better to do, I decided to go with him. We ended up buying some shrimp and four good sized crawfish.

While we cooked our food, we were joined by five other people. Four of them were from Israel, recently released from their military duties, and the last person was an Argentine reporter. Along with me and Sergey, a Ukranian-born American citizen, we soon realized that we all had one thing in common: we’re all Jewish. Funny how we tend to find each other.

We were eventually joined by one other person, a woman from Canada. I fell in love with her the moment she said “I’m a flight attendant for Toronto Maple Leafs charter flights.” We spent a good portion of the night talking about her adventures with the team and her travels when she’s not working. The whole night was just more proof that when you are traveling, it’s not a matter of where you go or what you see, but who you meet.

I was on the road early Monday. It should have been an easy travel day: chapa to Inhambane, boat to Maxixe, car to Xai Xai. Of course, things are never that easy. I sat in Maxixe on the side of the road for hours, waiting for someone to pick me up, but no one was willing to pick up this muzungu.

Finally, I gave in. I had to get on something going south, so I jumped into a bus heading to Maputo. The ride was uneventful. I fell asleep for a good portion of it, but it wasn’t enough rest.

The travel day was way too long. I eventually arrived at my host’s house, tired and starving. His empregada had already cooked beans, some of the best beans I’ve had in this country. We each ate a plate of rice and beans and I went to bed shortly after, at the pathetic hour of 7:15.

Hopeful that I wouldn’t have another disastrous travel day, I got out to the side of the road early. I was promptly passed by a car full of white people, which is always frustrating. But then, something very strange happened: they turned around. It turns out that the car wasn’t full of South Africans, like I had suspected, but with Peace Corps Volunteers heading to Maputo. Woo! That made my morning much better.

The rest of the afternoon for me was all very quiet. I lounged around the Peace Corps office, watching satellite television, browsing around the internet, being largely unproductive. I later made my way to my hotel to drop off my bags.

Around 7 o’clock, I was joined by my good friend Kate. We were making our way toward a restaurant when a man about our age starting walking behind us, babbling some bullshit. I immediately got suspicious and we decided it would be best to let him pass. At this point, the man went in front of us, picked up a rock, grabbed my shirt and tried to attack me. Clearly, he was drunk and slow, and I was able to grab the rock right out of his hand.

I carried the rock with me for the rest of the night, all the way to the restaurant. We had some delicious Indian and Chinese food, then returned home by taxi. I’m a firm believer that lightning doesn’t strike twice, but there’s no sense in testing that theory now.

Wednesday was the first day of many that, in theory, I’d be doing stuff. In reality, this is probably going to be a long, boring process that will be drawn out by bureaucracy and disorganization. The fun began with a lovely little trip to Namaacha. This was a purely business trip – visa renewal.

The day started off beautifully. The person responsible for helping us with our visas ran into the Volunteer lounge with a big smile and his face and proceeded to make it rain, spraying money all over the lounge. That was the best part of our day.

What should have probably taken an hour took the entire day. I would have liked to have been back by noon, grab some lunch, then close my bank account. Of course, not of that would be possible, because we were stuck in the tangle that is Mozambican visa renewal until 3 PM.

There was no way that I could do anything in my remaining hour or two in Maputo. The bank conveniently closed at 3 o’clock, so I sat around the Peace Corps office, doing nothing in particular.

After last night’s attempted robbery, there was no way that I would be venturing very far for dinner. We went to Mundo’s, one of the closest restaurants to the hotel, and I ate some delicious pizza. If nothing else, this is going to be a week of eating delicious food. To top it off, we went out for ice cream afterward. We’ll see how my stomach handles all that lactose.

Thursday put me right into the black hole of Peace Corps/Mozambique red-tape-land. I was supposed to begin my medical check-up in the morning, but naturally that didn’t happen. I sat in the Peace Corps office for three hours before I decided to be productive.

Then, in a shocking turn of events, I got a lot of things done in the afternoon. I managed to close my bank account in less than two hours, then finished all of my medical nonsense, and finished up by taking my language test.

The night was just one crazy adventure. It started at a bar with Laurentina Preta on tap, which might be the greatest thing ever. Then we went right back to Mundo’s, where I had an obnoxiously good chicken sandwich. The night was topped off when a friend of ours decided to take us to a bar in Maputo’s Red Light district. The tequila shot didn’t make me black out, but the beer after it sure as hell did.

I woke up early Friday morning unsure if I was still drunk or hung over. I popped some rehydration fluids and a liter of water, and felt better for the most part. I finished up some medical stuff – a FECA video, a TB shot – and had brief interviews with my bosses. After doing all that, I am so achingly close to being done here. I’ll I need is to have my TB test read on Monday and I’m done.

For most of this week, I’ve been on the two-meal-a-day plan – breakfast and dinner. But today, the day after Moz 15 site placement, we wanted to meet the new Machanga people. One of them came down to Maputo. We ended up having lunch at Spicy Thai, talking about Machanga, and amazingly, our replacement bought our meal. He said it was the least he could do for all the stuff we’re leaving him. Sweet. Free lunch.

I went back to the Peace Corps office briefly before heading over to my “dentist appointment”. Here’s how much faith I have in my obligatory dentist appointment: I’ve scheduled a dentist appointment for the first available day I’m home. Richie and I both showed up late to our appointments, which was perfectly okay because, you know, we’re still in Mozambique.

We went on the hunt for food early in the evening. Tonight’s food was Middle Eastern – shwarma. We were joined by three other Volunteers and, naturally, we topped the night with ice cream.

Saturday was largely uneventful. In fact, it’s barely worth writing about. So I’m going to take care of it one paragraph. I sat at the Peace Corps office all morning being unproductive, then ate delicious fried food for lunch. I walked to the a significant-sized mall even though I didn’t need anything, just to burn the calories from lunch. I sat in the Peace Corps office for a lot of the afternoon, then ate chicken for dinner before passing out.

Really soaking in this last week in Maputo...

Even though we were all pretty exhausted, none of us was able to sleep beyond 5 or 530. It he better for our guests, as each of them had long travel days ahead. For me, I was just frustrated. I would have been happy to sleep the day away. I said my goodbyes and tried to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen. I was wide awake. Might as well be productive.

I began the first major round of clean-up in my room. There was so much crap that I brought with me that I never really used. I thought I had done a decent job packing for this. I was very wrong. I did a terrible job. After an hour or so, my room was pretty empty. Everything sat on one little shelf.

For all my hard work, I rewarded myself with a run to the market to by some internet phone credit. Vodacom had this sweet deal going, where we got 125 megabytes of internet time for only fifty minutes. I excitedly entered my credit, thinking 125 megs would be more than enough for me. But you know what they say about something being too good to be true. That was the case here. I had to use all that time within 24 hours and then the credit would be gone. I went from being thrilled with Vodacom to thinking they were banditos in a split second. I spent the rest of the morning playing on the internet, trying to burn through as many megabytes as possible.

After lunch, Richie and I began phase two of clean-up. Our rooms already cleaned up for the most part, we got to work on our kitchen and little living area. Our house is so small that we only needed an hour or so to put everything in order. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to get through “Guns, Germs and Steel”. To this point, it’s been interesting, but it’s starting to get a little repetitive.

A productive day behind us, we took it easy in the evening. We went with all prepackaged food for dinner: a pack of spaghetti, an alfredo sauce packet and a half of a pack of chicken breast brought up from Vilanculos. It was all quite delicious. I spoke with my parents for a little bit – the last time I’ll speak with them from Machanga – and we wrapped up the night with an episode of “Dexter”.

I got an amazing night of sleep Sunday night. I actually managed to make it all the way through the night until about 6 o’clock. That’s a victory.

Monday was the start of National Exams for all of Mozambique. Almost all of the teachers made their way to the school around 6:45. Richie and I were not among the people who went. We knew when we should have gone, but no one told us to be there. We took that to mean that we were not obligated to go. Richie was going to drop in voluntarily but thought better of it just as he was about to walk out the door.

It was a very relaxing morning for me. I had another three hours before my internet deal expired, so I spent the better part of the morning being thoroughly unproductive online. Once the internet deal expired, I stayed in bed and continued reading my book. I’m so close to finishing that I’ll be ashamed if I can’t finish it by the time we get out of here.

I took a lovely nap after lunch. It’s not that I was particularly tired, especially after my good night of sleep. It was just so damn hot that it was the only way not to think about the heat.

We decided on beans for dinner, and since we didn’t soak them, we knew that they would take forever to cook. We started carvao, through the beans on the stove, and walked to the market while the beans started to soften.

The market run had very little to do with us – we needed to get some things for the house that would be of use for the people who follow us. Since our water pump has been busted for a couple weeks, we’ve been using a well, which requires rope and an oil can. What no one told us is that everyone needs to have their own rope and can. This completely baffles me, since everyone here is so reliant on the community. Whatever. I don’t have to deal with this for much longer.

While the beans finished cooking, I strung together the rope and oil can. The rope was barely long enough to reach the water. Once the rains begin, it should be perfect. The beans, as usual were delicious. We ended the night with two episodes of “Dexter”, leaving us one last episode for our last night in Machanga.

I spent Tuesday morning finishing up “Guns, Germs and Steel”. Other than the repetition at the end, it’s an extraordinary book. I probably learned more from that book than I learned from some college courses.

Tuesday was a big day for us for a lot of reasons. The biggest reason was that Tuesday was our last day in Machanga. Richie must head to the border by Friday to renew his visa and there was no way that I would stick around Machanga alone for a couple extra days. Plus it would just be awkward for one of us to say goodbye and have one of us stay.

For the students in Machanga, Tuesday was a huge day: the day of the English exam. Everyone was nervous, and with due reason. It’s rare for anybody to study here. Those who do actually study do well. Everyone else, it seems, just hopes or prays or does something else. Regardless, I’m cautiously optimistic. They did well on the final exam, so they should do just fine on this exam.

Richie and I had plans to go over to Madinha’s for lunch. We didn’t have any eggs in the house and we really wanted a good meal. Before we could head over to the market, I had to read through the English exam to check for mistakes. This exam was probably the cleanest the government has produced. There were very few errors, and none that particularly affected answers, which was a huge improvement over last year.

Madinha did a hell of a job with lunch. The meat from the chicken she cooked fell right off the bone. It was absolutely delicious. The late lunch, plus all the time it took to get to and from the market, killed a good portion our afternoon. When we returned home, we watched our final episode of “Dexter” and made our last celebratory cake, to be consumed later.

We were still full from lunch when dinnertime arrived. We had some left over rice and beans from last night, and some frozen chicken breast still in the freezer. Richie whipped up some tortillas and we ate delicious burritos. After dinner, we headed back to the market for one last beer with some of our colleagues.

As we walked back from the market, I stumbled several times. This wasn’t drunken stumbling -- I only had one beer in the villa. I kept tripping because I wasn’t watching where I was walking. My head was looking up, staring at a perfect sky full of stars one last time, watching not one but two shooting stars streak right through Orion.

Wednesday was the day. Departure day. After two years, it’s finally here. Two years in Machanga has come and gone, and now it’s time to get out of here. Before leaving, there were still some things we had to do: one last sweep, one last mop, one last set of goodbyes. We said our goodbyes at the school, turned in our keys to the school director, then headed to the villa to say goodbye to Madinha and Osorio.

There was only one thing missing from our departure: where were the little kids. Usually, little kids are standing on the side of the road, always saying “Ta ta muzungu!” They weren’t here this morning. It kind of made me sad.

We were accompanied the entire time by one of our colleagues and some students. God forbid we should have to carry our bags to the river for the millionth time. We were the only people wanting to cross the river, so Richie and I each paid double to avoid the wait and the awkwardness of our colleagues just standing there, waiting for us to leave.

There would be plenty of waiting for us to do in Mambone. Almost no one was heading out to Maluvane. We waited a good forty-five minutes before finally getting going. The ride was fine, uneventful. From Maluvane, Richie and I split ways: he headed north toward Chimoio, I headed south to Inhassoro. We got rides within a few minutes of each other.

My rides from Maluvane to the crossroads to Inhassoro were all free and more importantly, all fast. A little faster would have been nicer because I could feel the stomach issues coming on. Eating cake late last night was a bad decision. The same stomach issues hit Richie at exactly the same time. We’ve clearly lived with each other for way too long.

I chilled out at one Volunteer’s house while I waited for the other Volunteer – one of my better friends here – to get home from Maxixe. While I relaxed, she told me that the Vilanculos to Mambone chapa – a chapa I’ve been on at least twenty times – crashed on Tuesday, with at least two people dead. Might be a sign that it’s time to get out of here.

In the meantime, I spent a little time on the internet and in the brand new deli that opened literally across the street from the Volunteer’s house. So much meat. So much cheese. So much deliciousness. I made an executive decision then and there: in spite of my stomach issues, steak and cheese would be consumed tonight.

When my buddy arrived, we headed over to the market to pick up some final ingredients for dinner. We decided on rice and beans, plus steak and cheese. I’ve made plenty of beans in this country, and I can say without qualification that this batch of beans was the best I’ve ever made. They would have been that good even without the steak and cheese. The additions really put it out of reach. We ate until we felt sick (what a great feeling) and crashed.

I didn’t sleep particularly well Wednesday night. Good thing I didn’t have much to do on Thursday. We started our day with delicious cheesy omelets. While my host went into work (sucker!), I lazed around the house reading Noam Chomsky’s “Imperial Ambitions”. I wish I had one hundredth of one percent of the knowledge of that guy. Later in the morning, I jumped online, just because I could.

After my friend returned from work, we continued with breakfast with pancakes. He took care of the batter while I made the syrup. The pancakes were delicious and should definitely hold me over for the rest of the afternoon.

Early in the afternoon, I said goodbye to my friend. Luckily, he’s a good NorCal kid, so I know I’ll be able to catch up with him after he finishes his second year. I waited on the side of the road for about half an hour before a chapa came around the corner.

I knew as soon as I got in the car that it was going to be a bad ride. I just didn’t know how bad. It turned out being the worst chapa ride I’ve been on in two years. I’ve probably said that a couple times over the course of these two years, but this went above and beyond. What should take 90 minutes took three hours and fifteen minutes.

Now, I’m usually very calm, cool, and collected when it comes to this kind of thing. I believe that I have the right to get as angry as the angriest Mozambican. The guy sitting next to me was pretty fumed. He would yell something to the driver – “Are we going to take six hours to get to Vilanculos?!” – and then I would comment to him. “We should have walked. It would have been faster”.

When we finally arrived in Vilanculos, the driver tried to shaft me by charging 100 Mets for a 65-Met ride. It was a point that I snapped. I decided that I was going to public dress this guy down. I wish I knew more Portuguese swear words. I had to settle. “That ride was a joke, you’re car is trash, and you are trash too!” He didn’t respond, but the people who watched me yell at this guy were quite entertained.

I definitely felt better after the verbal assault. And I was happy that no one got in my way or pissed me off on the walk over to the Vil girls’ house. I told them the story, and they were proud of me for going off on the guy. He definitely had it coming.

One of the girls from CARE (a non-Peace Corps Volunteer, but a volunteer nonetheless) came over to make crepes. So to review, I had pancakes for lunch and essentially had pancakes for dinner. The Vil girls made ice cream with their ice cream maker (life in Vilanculos is so difficult. So difficult.), I took a phenomenal running water shower, and I went to bed, exhausted from a frustrating afternoon.

I was happy to have a relaxing Friday, especially after yesterday. I was on my own for most of Friday morning. I didn’t have much to do in town, so I sat around the house, destroying Laura’s computer at Scrabble.

Around noon, upon Laura’s return, I headed out to the market in search of food and banking information. I got myself a delicious sandwich, then made my way to the bank. Thankfully, my money for my time in Maputo had been deposited. Lord knew I needed it because I was down to 600 Meticais.

The rest of the afternoon was very quiet, very calm. I read some horrifyingly old magazines, but they were new to me, so it was all good. I got another glorious hot water shower. Then, the three of us, along with another Volunteer who came up in the afternoon, went to Smuggler’s for dinner.

The house was horrifyingly hot when we got back, so I felt it best that I should sleep outside for the night. I sprayed myself up and down with bug spray, threw some couch cushions on the patio, and slept a beautiful, wind-aided sleep.

Saturday started out so promising for me. It was yet another travel day and after the Inhassoro-Vilanculos disaster and the Vilanculos-Mambone, I really didn’t want to take a chapa. Lucky for me, people were very cooperative in the morning. I hitched a ride from the school to the bank, then from the bank to the highway, all for free.

Then the waiting began. I sat at the crossroads, burning, waiting, but nothing was coming south. Finally, a car heading to Maxixe came around the corner. Exactly what I needed. I jumped in the car and we started hauling.

We made it to Maxixe in good time. I thought I wouldn’t have to pay, but the driver asked for cash when I got out of the car. Okay, okay. I headed over to the pier and caught a boat heading to Inhambane. Once in Inhambane, I had myself a delicious (and cheap) chicken lunch in the market before heading to Tofo by chapa.

It’s been a good while – almost a year – since I had been in Tofo, and it always seems to take my breath away. It’s just so beautiful. Of course, everyone wants to treat me like a tourist, but a little Portuguese goes a long way.

I dropped my bags off at Fatima’s backpackers, changed into a bathing suit, and hit the ocean. It wasn’t nearly as warm as I thought it would be, but still plenty comfortable, at least for a little bit. When I got back to the dorm, a guy named Sergey introduced himself. He worked for the Millennium Challenge Corp., which piqued my interest, and my being a Peace Corps Volunteer interested him. We talked for a little while, and had dinner together along with some Brazilians.

The rest of the evening was lovely. I was going to take a little walk on the beach, just to catch the night stars. As I walked down to the beach, four people were sitting in front of the stair case. As soon as they said “sorry”, I knew they were American. They were study-abroad students in Cape Town, enjoying a little vacation time. We ended up talking for about an hour about all things American.

Maybe this is how I’m supposed to re-integrate myself into American life.

This is probably the best measurement of how lame the Halloween party was last night: I was sober/smart enough to set an alarm for the next morning. If this were a real party, I would have been out cold well into the morning. Instead, I woke up at 7:00 to the pulsing rhythm and vibration of my cell phone.

Five of us had a big day ahead of us. For the first time in two years, I was finally going to snorkel off the islands of Vilanculos, the Bazaruto Archipelago. It is apparently some of the better diving-snorkeling in the world, and there was no way I was going to pass up that opportunity.

We had an absolutely perfect day for going to the islands. Just a few wisps of clouds floated in an otherwise blue sky. The weather was not too hot, but far from chilly. And the ocean was a perfect green-blue, calm, and bathtub warm.

The five of us were joined by two South Africans, and a couplee from very northern Europe (he from Iceland, she from Sweden). The trip out to the islands took about forty-five minutes. It quickly became apparent that, contrary to what we have thought over the last two years, it would be impossible to walk to these islands. Those of us who were snorkeling were dropped off on one of the islands to adventure, snorkel, do whatever really.

The Vil girls wanted to walk around the island. I was eager to jump into the water. The Europeans joined me in snorkeling off the beach. To give you an idea of just how pale this poor Icelander was, he went swimming in pants and a long-sleeve shirt and I’m pretty sure he still sunburned.

Toward the end of the morning, the girls and I climbed up the sand dunes than overlook the other islands and Vilanculos. Looking out over the water, I immediately not regretted not doing this early. It was one of the most landscapes or seascapes I’ve ever seen.

In the afternoon, all of us headed out to Two Mile Reef. Apparently, it’s a reef that is two miles long. They really stretched to name it. On the way out to the reef, we came across a group of five or six dolphins. Of course, everyone tried to take pictures, and everyone failed.

One of the Volunteers who went diving in the morning snorkeled with us in the afternoon. We putzed around for an hour or so in the water. He told me that the snorkeling was as good as the diving. After saying that, I felt like I definitely made the right decision to snorkel. I haven’t been diving in years, and doing so four weeks before I get home just didn’t seem too practical.

While we waited for the divers to finish their dives, we sat on the boat, rocking back and forth uncontrollably. I know how this story usually ends: with me hanging over the edge of the boat. I popped a Pepto in lieu of Dramamine earlier in the day, but I knew it wouldn’t hold up. I closed my eyes and hoped I would get better.

After picking up the divers, we made a quick pit stop on one of the islands. I lay down for the few moments we had and immediately felt better. We then booked it back to the mainland, just a little hungry.

There was no way that any of us would cook tonight. It just wasn’t going to happen. Good thing that Vilanculos has delivery pizza. We ordered as soon as we got home and the pizzas arrived at a reasonable dinner hour. All of us devoured our pizzas and quickly found our way into bed.

It goes without say that I slept well Sunday night. A day on the water always knocks me out. Richie, as usual, was up and moving early. We said our goodbyes – real goodbyes, not see-you-next-time goodbyes – and hit the road for Maxixe. This would be a week of goodbyes.

We took the first car that we could catch out to the crossroads, and then the waiting began. After twenty minutes of sitting at the cruzamento, Richie started becoming impatient. He should know better than that. Just as he was ready to give up and take a dreaded chapa, a car that was blazing down the EN1 stopped for some us. After some initial concern (“You’re not going to jump me, right?”), we got in the car and made it to Maxixe in two hours.

Part of the amazing time was the fact the driver was doing 120 kilometers and hour for most of the way. A bigger factor was that the dreaded “Massinga Road” – the one that has been one giant pothole for our entire time here – is now almost completely paved. We spent less than five minutes on dirt. I’ve spent plenty of space here bitching and moaning about how terrible this road was and how it seems the only progress being made was backwards. I have to give them credit: they’ve done a really nice job on this road. Sure, it may have taken years to do, but it’s pretty much done.

Just after arriving in Maxixe, we were met by two of the Volunteers in the area. We made this trip down just to say goodbye to them. It’s been three months since we’ve seen them and they’re leaving next week. It was a trip that had to be made.

The four of us went out for lunch at a little restaurant in the market. I’ll say this: if there were a little restaurant in our villa where we could eat for twenty-five Mets a day, I would do that every single day. After lunch, one of the guys went back to work (poor soul, working during his last week) while the other stuck around for a couple more beers. The three of us eventually made our way to a grocery store, where each of us picked up some dinner items.

Before splitting ways, we stopped at the bank to see what went wrong with my deposit this month. Apparently, 2000 Meticais was lifted from my account by someone in Chimoio. How lovely. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying (and failing) to work this out with Peace Corps. Between this and the uncertainty around our visa renewal, it’s been a frustrating few days.

For dinner, we had a regular smorgasbord. The person with whom we were staying already had some rice and couvi prepared. Another Volunteer who lived within a stone’s throw had some beans. Richie and I brought some pork from the store. We threw it all together to make a pretty tasty meal.

It didn’t take long after eating for us to fall asleep.

I didn’t get the best night’s sleep, but it was good enough. We had a long travel day ahead of us. We figured that it would take us eight to ten hours to get home. Add an hour to that because we had to sit on the side of the road while every single car heading north passed us. Finally a car heading way north – beyond our crossroads – stopped for us. We didn’t make it more than thirty minutes in his car before police stopped him and held him for some irregularities in his papers.

Fine, we’ll catch another ride. Shortly after getting out of the car, another little sedan came flying up the road. It passed us by a good 100 yards before slamming on the brake and kicking it in reverse. He was heading just beyond where we were going, right to the Rio Save. Perfect. When I asked him if he had work up there, he turned around and pointed to his cap sitting on the back seat. He was a policeman. There was no way we were going to get stopped now. We could break as many laws as we want and still not get pulled over.

In a mere three hours, we made it from just north of Maxixe to Maluvane. Yes, we paid for the ride, unlike the free one we got coming down, but it was worth it. Our travel luck continued when we got a pretty fast truck heading into Mambone. And then a canoe was waiting for us when we hit the river. Including the hour wait on the side of the road in Maxixe, we needed seven hours to get home. Not bad at all.

Finally, home, we could sit and relax for a little bit. There will be no more big trips for me – just the one that gets me to Maputo, Johannesburg, and California.

After getting my feet back under me, Richie and I made a run to the market to begin paying for everything for our goodbye party on Friday. It’s a very strange feeling: I can’t believe we’re saying goodbye already, and yet, it’s completely believable. Then again, it’s a strange feeling to think that these two years have gone by both really fast and that it’s been a long time.

Once we got home for good, it was a night of D’s. It started with collecting on some debts. I had 2100 Meticais out to colleagues. I knew that it would come back, but since I’m out two grand thanks to the banks here, that money became all the more important. About half of it came back that night, which surprised me. I’m sure the rest will be back soon enough. We ended our night with dinner – stir fry with some shockingly good non-filet meat – and an episode of “Dexter”.

With Sozinho good – thankfully – the onus of washing clothing fell squarely on our shoulders. I forgot how much this job sucks. It’s not that it’s difficult – it’s just boring. And much like taking a bucket bath, nothing gets entirely clean, just less dirty. At least I felt like I had done something productive, and it wasn’t even 8 o’clock.

The rest of morning was taken up by two jobs. The first was another run to the market to blow a lot of money. Ten frozen chickens, five kilos of beans, eight cases of beer and four cases of sodas costs a lot of money. Madinha now has all the food for our party. There was no way that we’d be cooking all this stuff. Madinha knows how to handle this stuff.

When I got home, I had one other small job to do. One of our power outlets broke just before we left for Vilanculos. We don’t want to leave the house in disrepair for the next Volunteers, so we bought a new outlet while in Vilanculos and I replaced it just before lunch.

Having done all of that work before lunch, I definitely earned myself a relaxing afternoon. I napped for a little bit in the afternoon, then started cleaning out some little nooks and crannies of my room.

Wednesday night was a night of celebration for us. It was the last time we’d spend a Wednesday night in Machanga. Exciting? Absolutely! We cooked up our remaining beef with some tomato sauce and yellow rice, followed it with a small cake, and watched three (three!) episodes of “Dexter” before going to bed.

I was summoned into the school Thursday morning. The director needed some help alphabetizing lists of names for the National Exams next week. That job took about five minutes. While I had the opportunity, I told him that because of our visa situation, we’d have to leave a little earlier than anticipated. He seemed to not have a problem with this. He also took advantage of the situation of me being there: he asked me if I could put together a massive spreadsheet for National Exams. Having nothing else to do, I took the job. At least it killed an hour of my morning.

That was just the start of my work on Thursday. One of our colleagues from last year was having computer problems in his office. I can’t say that I was able to repair the problem, but I was at least able to save his documents and music. All that computer work took me right up to lunch time. For not having a job, I sure had a lot of work.

The afternoon was just as busy. Around 2:30, Richie and I ran to the market to pick up the drinks for our party. Twelve cases of drinks weigh a lot, even with a little handcart for carrying. The walk took us about twice as long as usual, but hey, we have our drinks for the party.

There was only one piece missing for the party – the goats. Who would have thought that in a place full of goats that the goats would be the most difficult purchase? Five of us set out way into the bush to find the suckers. It took nearly two hours but we finally got them. Sozinho tied one of the goats to a tree and literally within one minute, it snapped the rope and ran away. Stupid goat. If there’s any good news, it can only run so far and it’s probably going to run right back to where it came from. Stupid goat.

I got home before Richie did, so I cooked the spaghetti and cheese sauce packet. We powered through our dinner quickly, watched a single episode of “Dexter” and passed out quickly.

Friday was a day of mayhem, but it at least started with a little piece of mind. Sozinho went over to the house where we purchased the goat yesterday. Not to anyone’s surprise, the goat went right back to its house. Stupid goat. He took Stupid Goat and Richie’s slightly smarter goat over to Madinha’s so she could start cooking.

Richie wanted to head over to the villa late in the morning to begin the celebration, but I had a place to go. A Volunteer from near Xai Xai was on her way up to Mambone. She had said that she wanted to see our site, and this was the best opportunity. Quite frankly, I can’t believe she actually made it. Before biking to the river to meet her, I stopped by Madinha’s to buy a bottle of water and check in on all the cooking.

Barring some crazy issue, this would be the last time I’d be walking back from the river to Machanga. It goes without say that I’m excited about that. While we walked, though, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. It was as hot of a day as we’ve had here and I was walking through the bush under the noon sun. At least I was smart enough to buy the bottle of water.

I got our friend settled into our house and we went over to Madinha’s to begin the party. I think the plan was to drink slowly, to get a good buzz going for the party, but at some point, we switched gears into get-tanked mode. We drank for a good couple hours while we waited for one other Volunteer to arrive.

The rest of the afternoon was pure madness. Quite frankly, the whole experience makes me not to want ever organize a party ever again. It’s way too stressful.

Eventually, around 8:00, I got a ride with the school padre to Madinha’s to pick up all of the food for the party. When we got back, I started organizing things in the cafeteria and getting people moving in that direction. We told people 9:00, which I’m sure they assumed meant 10:00, but no, I really meant 9.

The party, by all accounts went well. There was plenty of food and drink for everyone. The music was decent. Everyone seemed to have a good time. We ran out of steam around 2 AM but I know many others kept on chugging.

The four of us were all up and moving by 7:30, which was only a little depressing. I really didn’t want to get out of bed until at least mid-morning, but my body said it was time to go.

I only had one thing to do all day on Saturday, which was probably for the better because I felt absolutely miserable. I wasn’t drunk miserable or hung over miserable. My stomach just hurt a lot. I knew I was going to be in for a rough day.

Around 10:00, a large group of teachers came over to see what I was giving away. The answer was “a lot”. Over the last couple of weeks, Richie and I had put together a huge suitcase full of clothing that we wouldn’t be bringing back to America. The clothing in the bag was there for various reasons – too small, too stretched out, too worn out, too bleach-stained (thanks, Sozinho) – but all of it will go to good use here.

The rest of the day was very relaxed. In an effort to recover from last night, all of us napped for a little bit right around noon. We had a late spaghetti lunch just after 2:00, followed by a viewing of “Bad Boys”.

Whatever stomach problems I had during the morning were gone by mid-afternoon, just in time for us to make brownies. We were going to save them for after dinner, but once we got going, they had no shot. The four of us nearly finished the tray before we got to our chicken tacos.

Finally fully recovered from the night before and full on tacos and brownies, we sat down on some extra mattresses and watched a couple of episodes of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”. We were all exhausted by the end of the second episode. And given that our two friends have long travel days tomorrow, we decided to call it a night.

(Sorry for the delay in getting this online so late. We were on the road until Tuesday. Without further ado…)

Something must have been going on. There were way too many cars here on Sunday for this to be a normal day. There were way too many people for that matter too, including the head priest for the group of mission schools. It became clear that something was going on with the church. Nobody really bothered to explain, which was just fine by me because I didn’t really care.

The only person who said anything was one of my students, who came over not to tell me what was going on, but to get help with his tie. “You’re not going to church, Mr. Lee?” Ha. Ha. No. I don’t go to church. He clearly accepted this as normal because he didn’t say anything after, like “Well, it’s a pretty special day. Some people are being christened today.”

Oh. Well, that would explain the flood of cars and the mass of people. It would also explain why someone was dressed in a red robe with a red hat and a gold staff (is there a technical term here?). And it would also explain why church ran for almost four hours this morning, into this afternoon. Just another reason I wouldn’t go to church.

I managed to keep myself busy during this time. Being Sunday, I had my own church to go to – ESPN’s College football score page. I love seeing that yet another #1 ranked team went down. Sadly, despite their massive winning streak, Boise State won’t be getting to the National Championship game, again. Playoffs?

I also spent a fair amount of time this morning sorting through my inbox, which was flooded with twenty-three emails from Facebook. Which was strange, because I don’t spend my life on Facebook. Apparently someone invited me into a group, which didn’t require me to accept the invitation, and then opted me in to receiving an email every time someone posted something. The next time I get some decent internet, I’m going on a mission to get this shit taken care of.

Once I finished with all the internet stuff, I ran over to the bread stand to pick up some fresh bread. This required me to walk right passed the open-air church. I tried to go unnoticed. Didn’t really work out. I might as well have been wearing a clown suit. I’m surprised they didn’t stop church to say “Look at the muzungu going to by bread!” accompanied by pointing and laughing.

After lunch, I was sitting around on the patio, reading, trying to not be a hermit, when the school’s assistant director came over to the house. There are only a couple reasons he ever comes over: he either needs some help with his computer or needs me to take care of something at school. So you can understand my surprise when he said “Vamos beber?” – “Let’s go drink?”

Mm, okay. I was a little suspicious. I thought this must have been some sort of ploy – get a drink in me and then ask something of me. I wouldn’t blame him for doing this because that is our approach when we need something from our school director: buy a bottle of scotch, get everyone laughing, then tell him we’re going to Malawi.

But no, this was just drinking. Well, for the men, it was just drinking. The women were all busy behind the house preparing a meal. Apparently, the assistant director’s empregada – the girl who works at his house – was one of the people christened today, an occasion worthy of food and drink for friends.

The festivities last until just about dinner time, with the eating and drinking only interrupted by a phone call from the family. The food was plenty good, but there just wasn’t enough. Richie and I returned home and promptly made spaghetti and four cheese sauce. Sufficiently full, we polished off the first season of “Modern Family”. We’re sad that it’s over.

I knew I’d sleep well Sunday night, which was good news, because sleeping has been a challenge these days. Between the nights getting hotter, the sun (and people) rising earlier, and me losing my back support (thanks to having to put together Richie’s bed), I’ve been struggling to make it through a night. I guess all the libations helped me out Sunday night.

Richie and I went through our standard Monday routine. The morning was all about football scores. I’m no longer surprised by the 49ers losing. This season, like the last couple, is a lost cause. Good thing at least one team in the bay area has figured out how to put together a decent season (and make it pay off in the playoffs). This is what I’m coming home to.

Late in the morning, I made a run to the market. We were low on food, and given that we’ll be on the road later in the week, I had to be cautious not to buy too much stuff.

After lunch, I did something that I haven’t done in ten months: I shaved my goatee. It was sad to see it go. I felt like I was losing a pet. I was scared that I was going to have an awkward tan line, given that my chin had been covered for the better part of the year, but I was surprised that everything was nice and uniform.

I looked like a different person. Richie didn’t really recognize me, although he managed to figure out that I was me. Nice being the only white people in town. Reaction otherwise was generally unanimous: “You look like a child.”

Full-blown boredom has overtaken not just our household but the rest of the teacher housing. One of our partners in crime brought out six beers and just put them on his patio. Richie, buried in a book, didn’t really want to drink, but I was bored and not preoccupied with anything so I figured what the hell.

While we drank, I fixed two tech problems. The first was a satellite issue in one house. A small image of an envelope found its way into the corner of our neighbor’s television screen. The problem required only someone who speaks English and is technologically literate. I qualify as both and within minutes I had the problem solved. The other problem was one that required a little luck. A colleague’s computer didn’t have a soundcard. I just happened to have the soundcard for that model. He was so happy to have music again that he bought me a beer.

While I drank/fixed things and Richie read, we let Sozinho cook. We knew this was going to be a bad idea because Sozinho doesn’t know how to cook. He cooked rice (which any Mozambican older than age four should be able to do) and beef curry, which isn’t really surgery. What we got was oil and MSG. It was almost inedible.

After suffering through dinner, Richie and I opened up Season 4 of “Dexter”. We were lucky to get our hands on this, especially since it just came out on DVD two months ago. The worst part about this season is we already know that one of the main characters dies. Now we’re just waiting for her to get axed.

I was back to my normal not sleeping. The first wake up was at midnight, the second at 3:30. From there, I was awake for the rest of the morning. Between the mosquitoes, the roosters, and a singing neighbor, there was no chance of me going back to sleep. I stayed in bed and continued reading “Guns, Germs, and Steel”.

Once I found the strength and energy to get up, I had Sozinho run to the market to see if Dique was killing any cows this week. When Sozinho returned, he told me that Dique would be killing on Monday. I didn’t believe him, since Dique rarely goes more than a couple days without killing a cow. Thus, I fell back on two of my rules for living here.

1) Trust nobody, especially not your idiot empregado

2) If you want something done right, do it yourself

I walked over to Dique’s, bag in hand, to ask him myself.

The only problem was Dique wasn’t there. He was out buying a cow. There was some hope: the kid holding the fort down told me that he’d be killing this week. So somebody’s lying. I’d have to go back later in the afternoon to find out who is not being honest with me.

Shortly following lunch, tropical storm-force winds took over Machanga. Sand blew all over the place. Dirt caked our house, our floor, and our faces. We ran in side and closed the windows, which kept the house cleaner but subsequently turned the house into a furnace.

And I still had to go back to the villa to find out about beef. Somehow I conned Richie into going to the villa with me. Sadly, we were disappointed with the answer. He’d be killing the cow on Saturday, which meant I couldn’t bring filet down to the Vil Girls’ going away party. I guess cake mix and funfetti frosting will suffice as our contribution.

Thanks to the crazy winds, our energy was out all evening. We lit carvao, which, with the crazy wind, took about four seconds to get going. I cooked spaghetti and sauce while Richie and Sozinho ate fish. We couldn’t watch “Dexter” because our computers were both dead, so we both ended up asleep by 9 o’clock. This is the tragedy that is my next twenty days.

I didn’t even make it to midnight Tuesday night. Gotta be impressed by that. I was up and moving at 11:48. At least I was prepared this time. I had a bottle of water in bed with me, so I didn’t have to get out of bed to rehydrate. I was up again at 3:30 until 5:30, then miraculously fell asleep until 7:15. Small victories.

Wednesday morning was shockingly busy. A colleague came over looking for just a bit of computer help. It turned into a two-hour marathon. Then I had to prepare for a prep session for the English national exam. That took my right up to lunch time.

The preparation for the national exam was pure mayhem. First off, I had 100 students packed into one classroom. As long as I was teaching one group, I figured I might as well get to the other group. Secondly, I had to get in as much material as I could squeeze into 90 minutes. How am I supposed to teach all English grammar in 90 minutes? It’s impossible, but I did my best.

Following the two hours of English terror, it was almost time to cook. We lit charcoal and got beans cooking. While we cooked, I started preparing a backpack for what could be my last trip to Vilanculos, certainly my last time seeing our lovely hostesses in Vilanculos. We ate our beans, watched some “Dexter”, and went to bed early, knowing that we had a travel day – one of the last ones – ahead of us.

Our travel day on Thursday started out so promising. We arrived at the river and people were literally waiting for us in the boat. Beautiful. The river was quite full, which was fine by us because it meant less walking on the Mambone side of the river. Once we landed on the other side, we booked it to the villa. A couple of cars turned down the main road. It’s always frustrating when that happens because those could be potential rides.

As we hit the villa, I noticed that there was a red hatchback down one of Mambone’s side-streets. I remembered a saying that my grandfather loves to repeat: if you don’t ask, you don’t get. With this in mind, I approached the car and asked, “Are you going to Vilanculos?” He said, “Yeah, but we have to squeeze four in the back.” We’re used to being squeezed four to a row, so we had no problem with this.

It was at this point that for the first time in a long time, I was accused of being fat. Mind you, it’s a compliment here, but that didn’t stop Richie from calling me a “fat fuck” for the rest of the day.

We had a game-plan for the day in Vil: bank, cell phone store, then to the house for glorious hot running-water showers. A small kink was thrown into our plans right away, when we saw how many people were in line at the bank. I’m done waiting in lines like this. And really, why wait in a line when we can wait at our favorite cheeseburger place and eat delicious food?

With our bellies slightly fuller, we continued with our plan to go to some cell phone stores. Following the protests here last months, the government decided that all cell phone numbers must be registered by November 15. I don’t know how two companies are going to manage to register four million phone numbers in one month, but ours are two that they won’t have to worry about.

The line at the bank had cleared up by the time we were finished at the cell phone stores. Perfect timing, I’d say. With all our main tasks done, we walked over to the north side of time to the teacher girls’ house. We love this house because of their hot shower and refrigeration. With three weeks to go, we found another reason: one of them received an ice cream maker. Seriously. An ice cream maker. All I can say is that this ice cream tasted like America. It was that good.

Late in the afternoon, Richie and I made our way to the other side of town to finish registering our phones and to look for food. As soon as we laid our eyes on frozen chicken breast and cheese, we knew what we were doing: chicken cheeseburgers.

We borrowed a proper barbecue from one of the neighbors of the Volunteers and grilled the chicken to perfection. All said, it was a pretty good travel day. No sense in trying to add anything to it. Shortly after dinner, we went to bed.

Friday morning picked up right where we left off Thursday night – with good food. In celebrating someone’s birthday, we went to a little place called Na Sombra. One of the Volunteers from last year claimed that Na Sombra had the best French fries in Mozambique. After trying them, I can’t disagree. The rest of their food was pretty tasty too.

From breakfast, we made our way to the south side of town to meet one of the health Volunteers. She only had to work until ten o’clock. We could have waited at the restaurant. But in two years of going down to Vilanculos, we had never seen where she worked, so we figured that we’d drop in to check it out.

Cut loose from work, the three of us made our way to the market to meet the fourth Volunteer. She needed a couple hands carrying all sorts of meat for her going-away party back to her house. Having nothing better to do, we lent her a hand – or four, I guess.

Being so close to the ocean, and being so late in the year, we prepared ourselves to take a dip into the world’s biggest bathtub. The water should be really warm this time of year. So you can imagine our shock when we started shivering as soon as we touched the water. We didn’t last more than ten minutes in the water before giving up.

The birthday celebration continues in the market, with the addition of another Volunteer from the area. Five strong now, we took up a table at a bar near the market. The party started slow, then we made Mozambican Car-bombs (Irish Car bombs, but using Amarula instead of Bailey’s and a Mozambican dark beer instead of Guinness. Delicious? Absolutely.

Somehow, we managed to get to this point in the afternoon without eating lunch. 4:30 isn’t too late for lunch, right? We made a brief stop to split a chicken before heading back to the girls’ house.

One of our missions for this trip was to try some new pizza. The place is owned by a couple of Germans, so we weren’t entirely optimistic. But much to our surprise, the pizza was pretty good – certainly better than the garbage we ate in Inhassoro last week.

After eating our own food, we dropped over to the health girls’ house to see how their party was going. We didn’t want to eat anything, just wanted to say hey. After a little bit, the party dissipated and we made our way over to a bar. The five of us were ready for a big night, but a shitty band combined with a bad crowd forced us home early.

We were all looking forward to Saturday, the day of the big Halloween party in Vilanculos. We had heard good things about last year’s party, so we had high expectations for this year.

The day on the whole was pretty quiet. In the morning, Richie and I made our way back to the north side of town to take advantage of the hot shower. The rest of the day, we mostly hung around, trying to conserve our energy for the party. There were two frozen chickens left over from the party last night, which we took advantage of. I barbecued them up and we made tasty sandwiches.

From there, we transitioned right into pre-game with cake and pizza bagels and some beers. We had a ride our to the party, which was good news because the party was at some place that was a good fifteen minute drive away down a shady road.

When we got to the party, we were a little disappointed. First of all, there were a ton of kids there, which was really disappointing. We can’t really get tanked with so many little children around. Second, we were the only adults in the only party to get dressed up. People are lame. And third, the music was absolutely terrible. It pretty much put us all to sleep. Instead of having a crazy drunken time, most of us sat around playing cards before abandoning the party.

Better to get some sleep. We had big plans for Sunday.

Well, this is something new and exciting: electricity in the morning. I know, I know, it’s been almost six months since “twenty-four hour” electricity was installed in our house. And for the most part, it’s been reliable. But this last week has been nothing short of awful.

Sunday, however, started out promisingly. Clouds continued to fill the sky; a heavy breeze blew all morning, keeping things sweatshirt cool. And the electricity was working. It couldn’t have worked at a better time. A colleague came over yesterday asking me to type up a couple of math exams, which I was happy to do. Not only is he extraordinarily inexperienced when it comes to s, but I really needed something to do.

The math exams provided but a little distraction. By 9:00, I had finished working. Now the only problem would be printing. Since none of the teachers here has an updated anti-virus, all of them are scared shitless (and rightfully so) about viruses spreading via flash drive. The only reasonable solution now is to have things saved to CD and then copied to a computer that has the printer installed. Pain in the ass? Not really? Expensive? Not extraordinarily (about fifty cents for a blank cd here). But inconvenient? Yeah. I didn’t have much of a choice though. I made my directions very clear: buy a blank CD and talk to the assistant director about opening the office in the morning to print. We’ll see how he does.

In the meantime, the rest of the morning was quiet. I sought ways to distract myself, just looking to make it to lunch time. From there, everything would be okay.

The first few post-lunch hours were spent napping. It’s really hard to justify taking a nap having done so little work. The only way I can justify it is that we’ve been up since 5:00 and the boredom of Machanga is slowly killing us. We vowed that we would get out of here at some point this week for greener (or I guess, sandier) pastures. If nothing else, it would help us recover some of our lost sanity.

All afternoon, we tried to figure out what we should do for dinner. We kept putting off the decision, but late in the afternoon, our hand was forced. It was 5 in the afternoon, and we still had no idea what we were going to eat. We ran to the market to see what we could get our hands on. We were then faced with a slew of problems. Being Sunday, most of the stores were closed. The one store that was open didn’t have anything worthy of being dinner. And the butcher didn’t have meat and didn’t have plans to kill anything until at least tomorrow.

So we’re screwed on dinner. And on top of it, the power was out. Charming. I will say this. Given the choice between having energy in the morning or having it at night, dear god please give me energy at night. When it gets dark here, seeing our hands right in front of our face is challenging, and we would prefer to not be outside at night, when the mosquitoes come out to play.

With few options, we turned to egg fried rice for dinner. Richie decided to add fish to his. In the process of frying his fish, he set the entire frying pan on fire. This was one of the few times where living in a cinderblock house had an upside. If we had a house like the girls’ house in Vilanculos, we might not have a house anymore.

After talking to my parents, Richie and I started an episode of “The West Wing”. Everything was fine until Richie’s computer froze twice. We were tired and didn’t want to deal with the computer, so we gave up for the night.

I was up at 2:30 in the morning, dry-mouthed, awakened by a dream that involved my brother, magic socks, driving through Chicago in reverse, and a bottle of scotch. It was at this time that four things became very apparent:

1) I really need to get off of these malaria drugs.

2) It was going to be hot. There were no clouds in the sky. So much for our extra days of winter

3) It was going to be a long day.

4) Someone needs to kill the goddamn rooster that is crowing at 2:30 in the morning. It’s pitch black outside. There is no reason to be waking up anyone or anything at this hour.

All those thoughts swirled through my head as I struggled to get back to sleep. Eventually the rooster shut up and I was down for the count. Richie would tell me later that the rooster got him too. He was up and moving at 4:00 and there was no going back to sleep for him. It was definitely going to be a long day.

Things were back to normal Monday morning. The power was out again when I woke up, but came on shortly after. The colleague who was supposed to buy a CD, amazingly, did as he was told. I saved his documents, plus our grades, to disc and ran over to the school to see if I could print.

Conveniently, the school generator was pumping. This shouldn’t be a problem at all. Thoughts like that, though, can be dangerous. I saw the director and asked if it was possible to print these documents. “Oh no, this electricity is about to go away. He [my colleague] should have talked to the assistant director about this yesterday.” Funny, that’s exactly what I told him.

I was truly surprised when the electricity at the school actually did go out, just as the director had said. All of this left my colleague very concerned. After all, he wanted to give his test today. Planning is everything, right? Twelve hours too late, he talked with the assistant directors and I was able to print both his exams and our grades.

We received some surprise packages from Peace Corps just before lunch. Our quarterly newsletter as well as some magazines arrived. We already got our hands on the newsletter via email. At least the magazines will make for a couple hours of reading. I’m always shocked that Peace Corps can get us mail, mostly because there isn’t a post office anywhere close to here. Whoever is bringing this stuff up here, I’m sure they’re pissed off that they’re coming all the way to Machanga just to deliver these packets.

Richie and I went on a small mission after lunch. We ran over to Madinha’s to discuss our upcoming goodbye party. We’ll be throwing this festa in a couple weeks and we wanted to discuss prices with Madinha. We’re probably going to buy everything from her anyways, so she can give us a good estimate on what this thing is going to cost us. From her estimate, it looks like it’s going to cost a little less than we expected. Still, we’re each spending a ton of money to make this party go.

We were much better prepared for dinner tonight. I had beans soaking all day, so they’d be quick to cook in the evening. I put the fire up around 4:30 and got cooking. Naturally, the energy was out again and would stay out all the way through our meal. Richie was in bed by 8 o’clock. Just as he crawled into bed, the electricity came on. Nice timing. I refused to go to be at such an early hour. I stayed up reading for a bit before my body could take no more. I was gone by 9:15.

Tuesday was the day that we began to search for our lost sanity. We’ve lost it the last couple of days and we figured that we could find some sanity in just about any other location. The closest place for us to go was Inhassoro, so we decided that Inhassoro would be the best place the go. The less traveling we have to do in these last few weeks, the better.

The travel day was pretty typical for us. We took the good path to the river, which made me happy. When we arrived, no one else was waiting to cross. We told the boat-man that there was nobody coming down this way. He completely disregarded this news. “We’re gonna wait for a couple more people.

Eventually, he caved. He realized that I was right. There really was nobody crossing. Even by the time we made it across the river, nobody had arrived on the Machanga side.

It wasn’t a particularly pleasant ride out from Mambone to Maluvane. We didn’t have any wait time, but the car sucked. It was packed with disgusting dried fish. Richie had the good fortune of being squished right up against the fish. I definitely got the better end of the draw, sitting half in the truck and half out of the truck. Ninety minutes later, we got out of the car, Richie smelling awful and me slightly bruised.

You would think that things could only get better after a ride like that, but somehow, they got worse. The truck we got in barely started. The driver was not quite with it. He was sober, for sure, but he just really wasn’t paying attention. At one point, he tried to pull on to the road while another car was barreling right toward us. This is why we don’t want to travel more than we have to.

We did make it to Inhassoro in one piece. I’m not quite sure how. We actually beat our colleague to his own site. He was coming up from Maputo, having been at training for Moz 15’s. While we waited for him, we got in touch with another Volunteer in Inhassoro. The three of us headed to the new bakery in Inhassoro, which has also started serving pizza.

We almost felt obligated to try this pizza. We wanted to know if it stacked up to the pizza in Vilanculos. The price was certainly better, but the quality was not. Yes, we pay twice as much in Vilanculos, but the pizza is easily twice as delicious.

On the way back from lunch, I stopped by a wood artisan’s shop. I wanted to have a plaque made for our second place finish in the English theater competition. He told me to make a model of what I wanted and he could probably have it done by Thursday.

I knew what I had to do. I took the next hour to design exactly how I wanted the plaque. I wanted to make this task as simple as possible. All the craftsman has to do is copy the exact size of the piece of paper and it would be perfect. I returned an hour later to the shop, model in hand, and left the man to do his work.

While I was working on the model, our host arrived home. He was followed in by another Volunteer who lives south of Vilanculos. This was going to be a good night. Whenever we get together, we always make good food, and tonight would be no exception.

The four of us went to the market to find some goods for dinner: a couple veggies, a can of beans and a frozen chicken. I brought an avocado down from Machanga. It’s burrito night.

The burritos, as you’d expect, were delicious. The only downside was that the avocado did not survive the trip. At some point, it burst in my backpack and spoiled. This made us all a little sad, but it’s hard to be really sad when you’re eating burritos.

We didn’t stay up that late, like we usually do. We all traveled today and it showed. Maybe we’ll do a little better tomorrow.

I had a little bit of work to do on Wednesday morning. I needed to hit the internet café – the crazy fast internet café – to download some drivers for the computer I’m currently using. It’s one of the computers that were donated to the teachers of the school here, but he doesn’t really use his computer. He told me I could use it until we leave, which was exceedingly kind. What we really need is audio and video, so we can watch our shows at night. In the half-hour I had at the café, I managed to find and download both. I now have a fully functional computer. It should hold up for the next couple weeks.

One of the big advantages of Inhassoro is that it has a beach. The beach itself is better than the beach in Vilanculos. The tide doesn’t go out so far and it gets deeper faster. The problem with the ocean in Inhassoro is that it is really dirty and salty. Still, that wasn’t going to stop us. We walked over to the market to buy some snacks, then headed to the beach. The water, as expected was dirty, but it felt good. The ocean has yet to become a bathtub, like it will be in December and January. The combination of hot weather and cool ocean was perfect.

On the way back from the ocean, I stopped by the craft shop. I wanted to see what kind of progress was being made. The artisan gave me good news: he could have it done by the end of the day. “Awesome,” I said. “Can I see?” When he pulled the plaque out for me, I was only slightly horrified. He broke up two words over different lines and managed to misspell the name of the city where the competition took place, even though it was written right in front of him. I made my displeasure known and told him what to correct. He said he’d have it done by tomorrow. Good.

Late in the afternoon, the four of us headed toward the market, which is conveniently located near the chapa stop. The Volunteer who lives south of Vilanculos needed to get back home. The remaining three of us hit the market to get supplies for beans.

As usual, I did the bean-cooking. These would have been the best beans I’ve ever made, except we didn’t have any hot peppers. Even so, the food was delicious. For our entertainment, we watched “Pirate Radio”, a film about illegal radio stations playing rock music in England in the ‘60s. It wasn’t a great film – had some cheap laughs. It was a mindless movie, which was exactly what we wanted. Exhausted from a long day, we all went to bed.

We were all awake early on Thursday. Richie wanted to head back home. I had to stay because the plaque wasn’t finished. While I waited, I went to the internet café to catch up with some friends from home. It had been a while since we had talked, so I was happy to catch them. By the time my hour was finished, the plaque had been completed. Yes! It looked great. Everything was spelled correctly, on their correct lines. This should make the school happy.

I could have easily made it home had I chosen to go back, but I really didn’t want to travel today. The whole point of the trip was to not be in Machanga. Why would I go back when I can stay? So I stayed.

As long as I was in town and doing nothing, I wanted to at least make myself useful. The Volunteer with whom I was staying wanted to put a closet up in his room. The only problem was that he had all of his exams to correct. I told him that I’d be able to do it. I spent the rest of the afternoon cutting drilling into a wall, cutting bamboo, and hanging the bamboo up. It wasn’t my best work, and I told him as such, but it’s better than nothing.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet on my end. My buddy was busy grading so I just tried to stay out of his way. Amazingly, we managed to make it to almost 8 o’clock without eating dinner. While he graded, I took care of the cooking. Spaghetti was quick and easy and tasty. I watched a couple episodes of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” before going to bed.

I was up and at it pretty early Friday morning. I didn’t have much reason to be, but by 7 o’clock, I was already wide awake. So much for getting a good night’s sleep before a travel day. I said goodbye to the Volunteer who was so generous for hosting me for a couple days and waited on the side of the road.

I didn’t have to wait too long to get a ride. Only three or four trucks passed by me before one stopped to pick me up. I had hoped that this car would make it all the way to Maluvane, my crossroads, but there was a significant crowd waiting to go back into Inhassoro.

It proved to be a blessing in disguise. A van came flying up the EN1. In fact, it blew right by me by about 100 yards. At least it stopped. I ran over to the van and asked if they would give me ride. I had to pay, but it was absolutely worth it. We made it from one crossroads to another in twenty-eight minutes, definitely the fastest time for me.

I thought my good luck was going to continue as two Land Rovers pulled up into Maluvane, heading toward Mambone. Unfortunately, both of them blew right by me. I hate people like that. After about half an hour, four of us convinced a driver to take us into town. We said that we would pay extra, but as we went toward town, we got more people. In the end, we all paid the right price.

After crossing the river, I walked back toward the school. Just as I hit the main road, a car going to the school stopped for me. There was no room in the bed of the truck, so I stood on the bumper and held on for dear life. We hit two good bumps, and I almost fell off the truck. Could have been a terrible end to an otherwise good travel day, but I managed to hold on.

All of this was done before lunchtime, which I thought was pretty impressive. Richie took care of cooking. It’s our unspoken deal: one person travels, the other person cooks.

I actually had some work to do in the afternoon. I wanted to show my students their grades for the trimester, but most of the students were not there when it was my turn to go into the classroom. I told the few students that were there to have people come to my house to see their grades.

At first, they came one by one. Then they came in pairs. Eventually, I had groups of seven or eight coming to my house. This was much better than going into the classroom. I had the classroom come to me.

Most of the students managed to make it to my house. The ones that didn’t will see their grades soon enough. Once the flow of students reduced to a trickle, I went to the market to find some food for dinner. The butcher killed a cow earlier in the day (which I wasn’t aware of). But I know that the good stuff goes quickly. I figured I’d at least ask if he still had filet, but it was hard for me to be disappointed when he said no. I resigned myself to eating lower quality beef.

We threw the beef on the barbecue, pairing it with some rice and tomato sauce. The difference between filet and this beef was noticeable, to say the least. It was still good. Just not filet good. We wrapped up the night by watching three episodes of “Modern Family”.

I slept remarkably well Friday night. I guess all I needed was a half a day of travel followed by a bit of work to get some good rest. Even after the good night of rest, I was reluctant to stay out of bed. Instead, I read a bit of “Guns, Germs, and Steel”, a book that we took up with us from Inhassoro. Really, we’re not at all desperate for new stuff to read. Really.

Things here have officially ground to a halt. Nobody did anything today – not us, not anyone. At least not anything of value.

My one activity for the day was heading into an office to see what was wrong with a computer. A colleague from last year told me that his computer wasn’t turning on. One day, it turned on; the next day it didn’t. Computers just don’t do that. I ran over to his office, didn’t do anything special – didn’t do anything, actually – and the computer turned on just fine. I’d like to say I have some magic touch, but if that were the case, my computer would still be working.

After lunch and a nice, needed shower, Richie and I went to the villa to talk to a shop owner. In a couple of weeks, we’ll be throwing a goodbye/thank you party which will require ten frozen chickens. The shop owner told us that he would have no problem getting these chickens for us before the party. Having succeeded in this, Richie and I rewarded ourselves with ice-cold sodas.

The rest of the day was just really quiet. We made some stir fry for dinner and watched a couple of episodes of “Modern Family” before turning in for the night.

Another week done, not too many more to go.

A successful weekend in Vilanculos behind us, it was time to head back to Machanga Sunday morning. We won't have to make this trip many more times. We'll probably make it down to Vilanculos one more time before getting out of here.

We followed our normal getting home-routine. Around 8:45, after packing our things and saying our goodbyes, we walked toward the new market/chapa stop, making brief stops to buy a newspaper and to take money from the bank. We claimed our spots in the chapa and then I headed into the market, needing bread and hoping for avocado. It's way out of season, but since Vilanculos gets so many South Africans coming through -- and thus, so many South African imports arrive -- it wasn't entirely impossible. On this day, the dream came through. Sure the avocados were five times as expensive as they would be during Mozambican avocado season, but for a chance at delicious burritos, we couldn't say no.

The ride home was for the most part uneventful, just the way we like it. We made a couple purchases in Mambone before crossing the river.

Oh, yes. Crossing the river. Normally, we walk about a kilometer from Mambone to the river, then cross the river for ten Mets, then walk another couple of kilometers from our side of the river to our house. Richie, however, is an advocate of a "better" way and I agreed to go with him. The pros are: shorter walk to the river, shorter boat ride across the river, five Mets instead of ten to cross and possibly a shorter walk. The cons are: at least two knee-high creeks that we had to cross by foot and trudging through mud for the first five to ten minutes. Now, I'm all for saving money and saving time. But to me, it wasn't worth it to save five mets and ten minutes.

Regardless, we made it home with no problems and very dirty feet. We had a master plan for food for the next couple of days -- beans tonight (with guacamole, of course), then using some leftovers for burritos on Monday. Because we didn't soak the beans, we knew they would need a while to cook. So we lit carvao, threw a pot of water on the coals, and walked to the market to buy some tomatoes and oil.

As we walked toward Madinha's for the oil, I noticed that someone with white legs was standing outside her store. Oh no. I figured this could only be South African Greg, which meant we'd probably get roped into drinking. But as we approached, three things were very clear: 1) this muzungu wasn't Greg; 2) like Greg, this guy had a big belly and was very drunk; and 3) he brought along a whole pack of muzungus with him.

There inside Madinha's store was a group of ten Canadians, all here from Alexis's church group. They're out here building a dormitory and a school out toward the EN1, even more in the middle of nowhere than we are. We tried to make a quick hit and escape, but our new drunk buddy insisted on buying us beers and food. And who are we to say no to that?

By the time we got back from the villa, the carvao had gone out and the water wasn't anywhere close to hot. Okay, we'll start again. Eventually, the beans cooked and the guacamole made them more delicious than usual. For our entertainment, we have a new show to watch: "Modern Family". It's sick comedy, which is perfect for us. I'm sure we'll be done with it by the weekend.

Monday was a pretty quiet day here. I think a lot of people were gearing up for the party tomorrow. In the meantime, we followed our now regular Monday agenda -- check NFL scores, followed by reading whatever we can get our hands on. These days, we're reading "Best American Sports Writing" from 2008, courtesy of a Volunteer in Inhassoro.

At 12:30, I ran over to school to tell my students that anyone who hadn't taken my exam could take it this afternoon at my house. Half of the four kids showed up to take the exam and they both did okay enough. In the evening, just before dinner, I ran over to the director's office to install a printer on someone's laptop.

Then, just as it got dark, we had our glorious burrito meal. The only thing that was missing from these burritos was cheese. Even so, with filet mignon as our meat and guacamole, we were very happy. Like last night, we watched a couple episodes of "Modern Family" before going to sleep.

I know it's hard to believe, but Tuesday was yet another holiday in Mozambique. Tuesday was Teachers' Day. This is probably the single biggest party day at school. And we'd be starting early.

Around 9:00, Richie and I headed over to the town plaza. If this were any other day, I wouldn't have gone, but missing today would be like missing your own birthday. The plaza was boring as usual, but had two little twists. The first was, after the national, which maybe about three-quarters of the people know, the teachers sang their "Teachers' Hymn". The second twist was, just like last year, a march through the town. And just like last year, about a quarter of the way through the march, we peeled off to meet some teachers at a bar

And so it began at 10:00. A group of about ten of us threw down at least two cases of beer over the next couple of hours. Richie ended up going home around 1, while I scored some food and talked to the Canadians back at Madinha's. At some point, a game of slamball was played. I came home in time to make some spaghetti, then laid myself out on the patio for three hours. It was just way too hot to be inside.

I woke up around 9:15 to the sound of extraordinarily loud music. The house behind ours decided that this would be a good night to test out some new speakers. I popped in my ear plugs, took a Benadryl, and promptly fell asleep.

Everybody seemed to be up and moving pretty decently on Wednesday. People seemed to pick up where they left off on Monday, and so did I. I was awake way too early for my own well-being -- 6:15. I knew I wouldn't make it too long without food. And the bread in our house had gone stale overnight, so I made some tomato sauce and spaghetti. I know, two consecutive meals of spaghetti is pathetic, but what can I do?

I was scheduled for class late in the afternoon. All I have to do is return exams and discuss the test a bit. I'm actually going to spend a fair amount of time talking about this one. I want the students' input on the difficulty of the questions, so I'll be able to prepare them better for their exams next month.

I played the waiting game all afternoon, hoping that my students would come get me early. The only problem is that most teachers are giving their exams this week, so I'm sure there won't be many free class periods. In the meantime, I gave myself a much-needed haircut. Should be good to go for the next week or ten days

While my students may have failed me in not coming to my house to get me early, I still got a win When I went over to the school at fifth period, my scheduled teaching time, the other class didn't have a teacher. Sweet - I could hand back exams all at once, go over the test all at once, be done all at once. This makes me happy.

We did not plan our dinner out very well. Nobody in the house wanted spaghetti, we didn't have any beans, and there was no way could do potatoes two meals in a row. That pretty much left us with rice. The only problem was we didn't have much rice in the house. Nonetheless, we made stir fry. We were both starving afterward. Instead of eating more, which would have required cooking, we watched two episodes of "Modern Family".

Wednesday night was my scheduled night for Larium dreams, and like clockwork, they came in full force. I had three very distinct dreams that night, but the one that stood out was when some country -- whatever country I was in -- broke out in full-blown sectarian violence. Nice way to wake up.

We didn't want a repeat of last night's dinner fiasco, so I ran to the market to buy, among other things, a lot of rice. Five kilos of rice should be enough for us for the rest of our time here. We might need one more kilo, but we are usually good for a kilo a week.

When I came back, I found myself on computer duty for the better part of the next couple hours. First, a colleague wanted to know if he could burn CDs on his computer. He seemed to believe that his computer was not capable, but these days, almost every computer can burn CDs, even in Mozambique. The same colleague also wanted to know how to make movies using Windows Movie Maker. I had never used the program, but it was pretty easy to learn.

Computer duty continued after lunch. I was supposed to go into school to control exams, but the pedagogical director told that no one would be giving an exam today. Fine. Instead, he wanted me to try to install a printer on his laptop. I told him "No problem", words I would soon be eating. This computer gave me nothing but problems. His computer was apparently missing a couple of drivers, which I tried (and failed) to download.

Two hours of work produced nothing. Can't say I didn't try. Having run out of options, I came back home and finished reading "Best American Sports Writing 2008". Richie and I both managed to kill this book within five days of getting in. And once again, we're just about out of reading material.

After a market run for a soda, we came back to get started on beans. We still had two avocados to get through. I've been stashing them in my room so Sozinho wouldn't eat them. Lord knows he would. The only thing we were missing was cheese. If only. After eating, we finished out "Modern Family" and watched an episode of "The West Wing". I know, old school.

There are no words to describe the level boredom that Richie and I hit on Friday. Our work obligations are finished. We barely have anything left to read. And to top it off, the electricity was out for the entire morning and most of the afternoon. I really don't know how we dealt with this lack of energy for the first eighteen months. Now that we have it, we're spoiled.

I don't have much to talk about, seeing as most of the day was spent trying to figure out how to kill time. It got to the point where I started dealing games of Solitaire. It's not just that I don't have a computer on which to play. The whole shuffling and dealing took up time. So did the three pages of cryptograms that I knocked out.

Eventually, Richie and I found something productive to do. We started going through our clothing, figuring out what stuff can be brought home and what stuff we're going to give away. This killed an hour, so I guess we can call that a success.

After lunch, and time-killing naps, Richie and I headed to the market, mostly for the sake of going to the market. Sure, we needed a chicken for tonight and some tomatoes for tonight and tomorrow. But knocking an hour out of our afternoon was far more important.

While I was cooking the chicken, a teacher called me, in need of some technical assistance. He was about to buy a computer second- or possibly third-hand. He wanted me to check it out to make sure that everything was running okay. With the exception of Microsoft Office not being on the computer, everything seemed okay to me.

The energy came on just in time for us to not have a romantic candlelit dinner. I don't think we can handle any more of those. We ate our chicken and rice and watched an episode of "The West Wing" before the power went out again.

Saturday looked a lot like Friday -- utter boredom, no electricity -- except there was one big difference: the weather. The last couple weeks have been hot as hell, but out of nowhere, a nice cold front moved in. I thought we might get some rain, given the 1:30 AM wake-up I got courtesy of a pair of huge thunder cracks. The rain never came, but the clouds and wind stuck around all day, a blessing for sure.

Once again, we were on the hunt for ways to kill the day. We had one small task to accomplish -- reconstructing Richie's bed. For the last year or so, Richie has thrown his mattress on the floor. The beds we have provide almost no back support (I stole a couple planks of wood from the school to help me out); the floor, apparently, was a lot more comfortable. Putting the bed together, and them post-construction clean-up took up maybe an hour.

The rest of the day was a lot of sitting, waiting for the energy to come on, praying the energy would come on, going to the market with the hope that the energy would be on when we returned, only to return to no energy.

This no energy thing could prove hugely problematic. Tonight was a scheduled cake night for us. One month to go in Machanga, forty days until we're home. Cooking spaghetti on charcoal is no problem. Baking a cake on charcoal is a whole different kind of task. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but by the time the spaghetti finished, we still didn't have electricity.

Baking on charcoal requires a Dutch oven. It's pretty basic: throw on pot -- the baking dish -- inside of a closed bigger pot. In theory, it should work just like an oven. In practice, it's almost impossible to control the temperature. The cake baked, for the most part. It wasn't nice and fluffy, like it should have been, but it still tasted like cake. Of course, I would have been just as happy to just eat the batter. It's all the same to me.

At least for the next forty days.

A successful weekend in Vilanculos behind us, it was time to head back to Machanga Sunday morning. We won't have to make this trip many more times. We'll probably make it down to Vilanculos one more time before getting out of here.

We followed our normal getting home-routine. Around 8:45, after packing our things and saying our goodbyes, we walked toward the new market/chapa stop, making brief stops to buy a newspaper and to take money from the bank. We claimed our spots in the chapa and then I headed into the market, needing bread and hoping for avocado. It's way out of season, but since Vilanculos gets so many South Africans coming through -- and thus, so many South African imports arrive -- it wasn't entirely impossible. On this day, the dream came through. Sure the avocados were five times as expensive as they would be during Mozambican avocado season, but for a chance at delicious burritos, we couldn't say no.

The ride home was for the most part uneventful, just the way we like it. We made a couple purchases in Mambone before crossing the river.

Oh, yes. Crossing the river. Normally, we walk about a kilometer from Mambone to the river, then cross the river for ten Mets, then walk another couple of kilometers from our side of the river to our house. Richie, however, is an advocate of a "better" way and I agreed to go with him. The pros are: shorter walk to the river, shorter boat ride across the river, five Mets instead of ten to cross and possibly a shorter walk. The cons are: at least two knee-high creeks that we had to cross by foot and trudging through mud for the first five to ten minutes. Now, I'm all for saving money and saving time. But to me, it wasn't worth it to save five mets and ten minutes.

Regardless, we made it home with no problems and very dirty feet. We had a master plan for food for the next couple of days -- beans tonight (with guacamole, of course), then using some leftovers for burritos on Monday. Because we didn't soak the beans, we knew they would need a while to cook. So we lit carvao, threw a pot of water on the coals, and walked to the market to buy some tomatoes and oil.

As we walked toward Madinha's for the oil, I noticed that someone with white legs was standing outside her store. Oh no. I figured this could only be South African Greg, which meant we'd probably get roped into drinking. But as we approached, three things were very clear: 1) this muzungu wasn't Greg; 2) like Greg, this guy had a big belly and was very drunk; and 3) he brought along a whole pack of muzungus with him.

There inside Madinha's store was a group of ten Canadians, all here from Alexis's church group. They're out here building a dormitory and a school out toward the EN1, even more in the middle of nowhere than we are. We tried to make a quick hit and escape, but our new drunk buddy insisted on buying us beers and food. And who are we to say no to that?

By the time we got back from the villa, the carvao had gone out and the water wasn't anywhere close to hot. Okay, we'll start again. Eventually, the beans cooked and the guacamole made them more delicious than usual. For our entertainment, we have a new show to watch: "Modern Family". It's sick comedy, which is perfect for us. I'm sure we'll be done with it by the weekend.

Monday was a pretty quiet day here. I think a lot of people were gearing up for the party tomorrow. In the meantime, we followed our now regular Monday agenda -- check NFL scores, followed by reading whatever we can get our hands on. These days, we're reading "Best American Sports Writing" from 2008, courtesy of a Volunteer in Inhassoro.

At 12:30, I ran over to school to tell my students that anyone who hadn't taken my exam could take it this afternoon at my house. Half of the four kids showed up to take the exam and they both did okay enough. In the evening, just before dinner, I ran over to the director's office to install a printer on someone's laptop.

Then, just as it got dark, we had our glorious burrito meal. The only thing that was missing from these burritos was cheese. Even so, with filet mignon as our meat and guacamole, we were very happy. Like last night, we watched a couple episodes of "Modern Family" before going to sleep.

I know it's hard to believe, but Tuesday was yet another holiday in Mozambique. Tuesday was Teachers' Day. This is probably the single biggest party day at school. And we'd be starting early.

Around 9:00, Richie and I headed over to the town plaza. If this were any other day, I wouldn't have gone, but missing today would be like missing your own birthday. The plaza was boring as usual, but had two little twists. The first was, after the national, which maybe about three-quarters of the people know, the teachers sang their "Teachers' Hymn". The second twist was, just like last year, a march through the town. And just like last year, about a quarter of the way through the march, we peeled off to meet some teachers at a bar

And so it began at 10:00. A group of about ten of us threw down at least two cases of beer over the next couple of hours. Richie ended up going home around 1, while I scored some food and talked to the Canadians back at Madinha's. At some point, a game of slamball was played. I came home in time to make some spaghetti, then laid myself out on the patio for three hours. It was just way too hot to be inside.

I woke up around 9:15 to the sound of extraordinarily loud music. The house behind ours decided that this would be a good night to test out some new speakers. I popped in my ear plugs, took a Benadryl, and promptly fell asleep.

Everybody seemed to be up and moving pretty decently on Wednesday. People seemed to pick up where they left off on Monday, and so did I. I was awake way too early for my own well-being -- 6:15. I knew I wouldn't make it too long without food. And the bread in our house had gone stale overnight, so I made some tomato sauce and spaghetti. I know, two consecutive meals of spaghetti is pathetic, but what can I do?

I was scheduled for class late in the afternoon. All I have to do is return exams and discuss the test a bit. I'm actually going to spend a fair amount of time talking about this one. I want the students' input on the difficulty of the questions, so I'll be able to prepare them better for their exams next month.

I played the waiting game all afternoon, hoping that my students would come get me early. The only problem is that most teachers are giving their exams this week, so I'm sure there won't be many free class periods. In the meantime, I gave myself a much-needed haircut. Should be good to go for the next week or ten days

While my students may have failed me in not coming to my house to get me early, I still got a win When I went over to the school at fifth period, my scheduled teaching time, the other class didn't have a teacher. Sweet - I could hand back exams all at once, go over the test all at once, be done all at once. This makes me happy.

We did not plan our dinner out very well. Nobody in the house wanted spaghetti, we didn't have any beans, and there was no way could do potatoes two meals in a row. That pretty much left us with rice. The only problem was we didn't have much rice in the house. Nonetheless, we made stir fry. We were both starving afterward. Instead of eating more, which would have required cooking, we watched two episodes of "Modern Family".

Wednesday night was my scheduled night for Larium dreams, and like clockwork, they came in full force. I had three very distinct dreams that night, but the one that stood out was when some country -- whatever country I was in -- broke out in full-blown sectarian violence. Nice way to wake up.

We didn't want a repeat of last night's dinner fiasco, so I ran to the market to buy, among other things, a lot of rice. Five kilos of rice should be enough for us for the rest of our time here. We might need one more kilo, but we are usually good for a kilo a week.

When I came back, I found myself on computer duty for the better part of the next couple hours. First, a colleague wanted to know if he could burn CDs on his computer. He seemed to believe that his computer was not capable, but these days, almost every computer can burn CDs, even in Mozambique. The same colleague also wanted to know how to make movies using Windows Movie Maker. I had never used the program, but it was pretty easy to learn.

Computer duty continued after lunch. I was supposed to go into school to control exams, but the pedagogical director told that no one would be giving an exam today. Fine. Instead, he wanted me to try to install a printer on his laptop. I told him "No problem", words I would soon be eating. This computer gave me nothing but problems. His computer was apparently missing a couple of drivers, which I tried (and failed) to download.

Two hours of work produced nothing. Can't say I didn't try. Having run out of options, I came back home and finished reading "Best American Sports Writing 2008". Richie and I both managed to kill this book within five days of getting in. And once again, we're just about out of reading material.

After a market run for a soda, we came back to get started on beans. We still had two avocados to get through. I've been stashing them in my room so Sozinho wouldn't eat them. Lord knows he would. The only thing we were missing was cheese. If only. After eating, we finished out "Modern Family" and watched an episode of "The West Wing". I know, old school.

There are no words to describe the level boredom that Richie and I hit on Friday. Our work obligations are finished. We barely have anything left to read. And to top it off, the electricity was out for the entire morning and most of the afternoon. I really don't know how we dealt with this lack of energy for the first eighteen months. Now that we have it, we're spoiled.

I don't have much to talk about, seeing as most of the day was spent trying to figure out how to kill time. It got to the point where I started dealing games of Solitaire. It's not just that I don't have a computer on which to play. The whole shuffling and dealing took up time. So did the three pages of cryptograms that I knocked out.

Eventually, Richie and I found something productive to do. We started going through our clothing, figuring out what stuff can be brought home and what stuff we're going to give away. This killed an hour, so I guess we can call that a success.

After lunch, and time-killing naps, Richie and I headed to the market, mostly for the sake of going to the market. Sure, we needed a chicken for tonight and some tomatoes for tonight and tomorrow. But knocking an hour out of our afternoon was far more important.

While I was cooking the chicken, a teacher called me, in need of some technical assistance. He was about to buy a computer second- or possibly third-hand. He wanted me to check it out to make sure that everything was running okay. With the exception of Microsoft Office not being on the computer, everything seemed okay to me.

The energy came on just in time for us to not have a romantic candlelit dinner. I don't think we can handle any more of those. We ate our chicken and rice and watched an episode of "The West Wing" before the power went out again.

Saturday looked a lot like Friday -- utter boredom, no electricity -- except there was one big difference: the weather. The last couple weeks have been hot as hell, but out of nowhere, a nice cold front moved in. I thought we might get some rain, given the 1:30 AM wake-up I got courtesy of a pair of huge thunder cracks. The rain never came, but the clouds and wind stuck around all day, a blessing for sure.

Once again, we were on the hunt for ways to kill the day. We had one small task to accomplish -- reconstructing Richie's bed. For the last year or so, Richie has thrown his mattress on the floor. The beds we have provide almost no back support (I stole a couple planks of wood from the school to help me out); the floor, apparently, was a lot more comfortable. Putting the bed together, and them post-construction clean-up took up maybe an hour.

The rest of the day was a lot of sitting, waiting for the energy to come on, praying the energy would come on, going to the market with the hope that the energy would be on when we returned, only to return to no energy.

This no energy thing could prove hugely problematic. Tonight was a scheduled cake night for us. One month to go in Machanga, forty days until we're home. Cooking spaghetti on charcoal is no problem. Baking a cake on charcoal is a whole different kind of task. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but by the time the spaghetti finished, we still didn't have electricity.

Baking on charcoal requires a Dutch oven. It's pretty basic: throw on pot -- the baking dish -- inside of a closed bigger pot. In theory, it should work just like an oven. In practice, it's almost impossible to control the temperature. The cake baked, for the most part. It wasn't nice and fluffy, like it should have been, but it still tasted like cake. Of course, I would have been just as happy to just eat the batter. It's all the same to me.

At least for the next forty days.

Sunday was a big day in our house. Not for us, of course. Sundays are usually boring, given that everyone in this town except us goes to church. But today, there was a bit of action around here before church started. Sunday was Sozinho's baptism day, which meant he was up and moving especially. Hey, just because he's being baptized today doesn't mean he's off the hook for his household responsibilities.

My responsibilities in the morning were rather limited. The last thing Sozinho asked me for in regards to his baptism (the list has been endless) was to tie his tie for him. One of the funny parts of Mozambican fashion is that guys like their ties really short, like barely past the their chest. With such a short tie, there was no way I could tie it on myself, take it off, and throw it on Sozinho. So I had to do what my dad used to do with me: stand in front of mirror, behind Sozinho, and tie it like that. Awkward? Yes. But it got the job done.

While everyone was at church, I made a run to the market. I've decided that Sunday mornings are a really good time to go to the market because I don't have to deal with anyone. All the drunkards are not drunk (yet) and there are no crowds to plow through. After the market run, the rest of the morning was spent reading "Lullaby", which is a waste of time.

I thought I was in for a quiet afternoon. Following lunch, I had planned to just relax. But shortly after we ate, one of our colleagues came over and invited us over to his house for a celebration lunch. Someone in his family was also baptized and he wanted us to be there to celebrate. This isn't strange at all. I don't say no when someone offers me free food and drink, so I went.

With a sufficient amount of wine, beer, and food in me, I returned home to do a bit of work. I had to print out my final exam, which I'm giving on Wednesday. I had hoped to print tonight and photocopy tomorrow so I don't have to stress when there is no paper or no toner on Tuesday.

We put together a pretty tasty meal for dinner: burritos. These burritos weren't as good as usual. No guacamole and no cheese really makes a huge difference. But throwing filet in the burritos made up for the loss. Our movie for the night was "The Book of Eli", which was pretty entertaining. By the time we finished the movie, I was back to sober and ready for bed.

That didn't mean I wasn't in for some punishment. I woke up at 2 in the morning with my stomach in a not. I knew I was going to be in for a long night. Two hours, four Peptos, and six trips to the bathroom later, I was back to better. I'm blaming the day-old beans we threw into the burritos.

Monday was a holiday in Mozambican -- shocking, I know. It was Peace and Reconciliation Day. At some point over the weekend, I had told someone that I would go to the plaza for the ceremony. But after a night of very little (and very poor) sleep, I wasn't up for it.

I was, however, able to stick to the far easier commitment of changing out someone's fluorescent light bulbs for standard light bulbs. She told me that her lights hadn't been working for four months. And just now, she decided that she'd had enough.

Instead of going to the plaza, I went to the market in search of some things for the house. One of our power outlets broke and a light switch is on the way to being busted. I want to have them fixed before we leave. The only thing impeding this is the fact that nobody in this village sells the right power outlet or switch. This place could really use a decent hardware store.

I knew that today was going to be a nap day, and after lunch, I did just that. It took about half a second for me to go from awake to asleep. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting through "Lullaby". It was the kind of book that was so bad I just wanted to have it finished, kind of like "All the King's Men". The only difference was this book was about a quarter of the length of "All the King's Men".

I wanted a simple dinner tonight and Richie actually proposed spaghetti. This should sit decently in my stomach. I didn't have any problems after 4 AM, but there was no sense in risking it. Tonight we watched Robin Williams's stand-up "Weapons of Self Destruction". It wasn't as funny as I anticipated but still had some good laughs.

Monday night's sleep went much better than Tuesday's. No waking up writhing in pain. And I woke up with the knowledge that today's class would be my last lesson. From here, I give my exam and return them and that's the show.

Before I could lesson plan, I needed to run to the market. Sozinho told me that he needed more detergent and I needed to buy a ream of paper. Apparently, when I said that I needed 400 sheets of paper, that was the school's cue to not go out and get a ream of paper. Fine. Once again, I realized that if you want something done right here, you better do it yourself.

So while I was at the market, I ran over to our colleague's photocopy shop. Sitting in the shop was a stack of paper reams. I told the kid that I wanted to buy a ream and he comes back with this nonsense: "I'm not authorized to sell this paper." This just about made my head explode. I told him "There's not an option here. I'm buying this paper. Elias (the colleague) knows about this." The fact that he didn't know about it -- that he was actually hundreds of kilometers away, in Beira -- made very little difference. I was getting this paper if I had to kill the kid. Luckily, it didn't come down to knives. He just gave me the paper. Success.

Back at home, paper in hand, I got to lesson planning. Today's lesson wasn't at all about English. It was all about the exam. I wanted to outline what the kids could expect on the exam, in terms of number of questions, distribution of questions, and types of questions. Yes, this would take 45 minutes.

Right after lunch, I went into school to give the lesson that I had prepared. It went shockingly well. The types of questions that I explained were kind of complicated -- having to do with word order, punctuation, and paragraph-making. We'll see how much sticks on the exam.

Oh yes, the exam. My master plan for this year was to give parts of National Exams for each of their three finals. For this last final, I wanted to give a complete exam that was given earlier in the year. This was especially masterful because 1) I wouldn't have to think of questions; 2) it would give the students a chance to take a full exam before actually taking it November; and 3) the closest place that a person could get this exam was more than a hundred miles away.

It goes without say that someone got their hands on the exam. So much for being masterful. The kid came over asking for some help with some questions. When I saw that he had the exam, I almost had a seizure. I couldn't let him have this. That would just be unfair. I told him that I needed some time with the exam. I'll hold on to it and help him tomorrow afternoon...after the exam. It was then that he may have realized that I'd be giving this exact exam for his final. Should be interesting.

After I dealt with this kid, Richie made a run to the market to buy a chicken and I ran to the office to make photocopies. The photocopies were the easy part. The computer full of viruses was more of a challenge. It turned on just fine, but the desktop never loaded. This is the second time I've seen this problem here, only this time, the stakes were higher. This computer was full of documents pertaining to National Exams. Okay. I threw thing in safe mode, grabbed my external hard drive, and saved everything, including the school's backside.

I came home just in time to cook dinner. For the first time in a while, we grilled the chicken. Sozinho cooked rice and made salad. It was all quiet delicious. After eating, we watched "State of Play", which will probably be the winning movie for this week. Very good. While we watched, I collated and stapled together all of the exams for tomorrow. And after the movie, I got into a new book, Dante's "Inferno". I am very poorly read when it comes to classics, and this one seems pretty good.

Wednesday was D-Day here. Final exam, emphasis on final. Two more hours of sitting in class, watching kids try to cheat, and it will all be over. In the meantime, my room had to be Fort Knox. There's no way Sozinho can get his hands on those exams. I'd like to say I trust him, but I only trust him about as far as I can throw him.

All said, it was a quiet morning. No lesson to plan, no market run to make. Richie had exams in the morning. He's in for a long day: exams all morning, plus more than half of the afternoon. I only added to his work load by having him help me proctor my exam late this afternoon.

My only job for the morning was getting my hands on the money that the students are supposed to put together for the exam. I have literally given them weeks to find five Meticais. That's it. Five. And yet, when I went to get money from one of the classes, only a third of the kids had given their money. How is that possible? I'm going to have to figure this out this afternoon.

Before I could give my exams, I had to watch over one of Richie's classes. It's really sad that the only people we can trust when it comes to this stuff are each other. But it's simple: we have higher cheating standards than everyone else here. This obviously frustrates the students, and yet, they keep on trying. Richie threw out his entire class because they were all acting like shitheads. My class eventually threw me out and got Richie instead, which was for the better because I wanted to kill most of those students.

In comparison, my kids were a breeze. Richie had one class and I had the other. I told them that if anyone cheats, Richie has full permission to give zeroes, and he is not in good mood. I think they got the point. Only one kid in his class had to be moved. When that final bell rang, the only thing I could think was, My work here is done. Sure, there's still some stuff to do, but for the most part, I'm finished.

With exams done, all I had to do was correct the suckers. There were about 100 exams to be corrected. I knew this wasn't a job for tonight -- it could wait until tomorrow -- but I did want to correct the exams of the students who help teachers here. It wasn't many, six or seven at most. Sozinho did shockingly well. If he does as well on the National Exam, he will easily pass.

Once word got out that I was correcting exams, students started coming in over in groups of three or four asking for their grades. So I graded on command. If the student showed up, they could have their grade. In all, about twenty students came over. It may have prevented me from eating my chicken dinner and watching "The Hangover", but it did make good dent in my corrections for tomorrow. As soon as the movie ended, I crawled into bed, dead exhausted.

I wasn't surprised that I slept well. Straight through the night until 6 in the morning. I figured that as long as I was awake, I could get corrections done. So I corrected all morning, right up until lunch time. Sozinho wasn't the only one to do well. In his class, 83 percent of the group passed. In the other class, a pathetic 55 percent passed. This from the letters/language group. Combine, they passed at a 72 percent rate, way better than the students from last year did on National Exams. Let's hope that everyone who passed this exam passes in November and some of the borderline kids can make the jump also. If that happens, I will feel really good about giving difficult exams.

There were only two things on my schedule for the afternoon lunch and napping, two of my favorite activities. It's amazing how tiring sitting and grading can be. More mind-numbing than strenuous. Regardless, by 2 o'clock, I was down for the count. The rest of the afternoon was spent working my way through some chapters of "Dante's Inferno". The descriptions of the circles of hell have been pretty sweet.

We broke back into our stash of filet for dinner, stir-frying it with some veggies. For our entertainment, we watched a pretty bad film called "Chloe". Won't be going back to that one any time soon. Knowing that we had a long day ahead of us, it was time for bed.

Richie and I were up and moving pretty early on Friday. Between our school schedules and financial needs, I feel like it's the first time in a while that we've traveled anywhere together. There aren't a lot more of these trips, two or three tops.

The travel day started out promising. We got to the river and instead of waiting for another person to get in the canoe with us, we paid an extra 5 Mets each to go now. From there, we thought we were golden. A Land Cruiser was just about to leave and was heading to Beira. That was fine by us: we'll take that to the crossroads. But all that glitters isn't gold. The dude screwed around in Mambone for an hour before we left. There goes our shot at breaking the record for getting to Vil.

In a strange way though, it may have been a blessing. I'd much rather wait in a Land Cruiser than at the crossroads, and the timing couldn't have been better. As soon as we got to the crossroads, we got a car that was heading to Maputo. And we didn't have to pay for it. Then, as soon as we got to the crossroads for Vilanculos, another car was heading to Vil. We happily paid to be in the sedan. We still managed to make it in under five hours. Funny how a five-hour travel day is an easy day now.

Once we arrived in town we had some time to spare. Another Volunteer wanted to meet us for lunch at New York Pizza, but she had to finish up at school. Sucker. We got some shopping done before heading over for delicious pizza lunch. It never fails to make us happy and full.

We had big plans for the evening, but before that, I needed a nap. I only fell asleep for fifteen or twenty minutes, but man did it help. In the hour or so that we had, four of us played "Phase 10", a great rummy-type game. We only got about half way through the game. If we have time, we'll finish tomorrow.

Our big plans for the night were watching rugby at Smugglers hotel. I know, kind of ridiculous. Besides it being an entertaining game, it was actually a good learning opportunity. One of our colleagues in Inhassoro (who was in town) played rugby at UCLA, so he was able to explain all the things that I hadn't picked up. Given America's love of violent, hard-hitting sports, it's kind of a surprise that more Americans don't like rugby.

After watching rugby, we split into two groups. One group, the tired group, heading home for the night. Meanwhile, a group of about six of us went out to a bar called Tropical to continue the party. And party we did. I knew exactly when I hit my breaking point, but another Volunteer (and one of my best friends here) didn't. By the end of the night, I ended up as babysitter, which was fine by me. I've been taken care of plenty of time in these situations. It all evens out. Once she was asleep, I fell asleep very quickly. And without the dreaded Spins.

I only got four hours of sleep Friday night, but at least it was good sleep. I woke up with a bit of a headache, but that should be expected. My friend, on the other hand, woke up unaware of what had happened for a good portion of the evening. We spent about an hour reconstructing her evening before she fell asleep.

On the other hand, I was up and moving. I knew at the other Vil house that there were plans for pancakes and ocean. I could definitely get on board with that. I got a sweet ride from one side of town to the other, saving me about twenty minutes of walking. One of the Volunteers made some pretty killer pancakes from scratch while we waited for the tide to go out.

A brief explanation. In most situations, one would wait for the tide to come in to go swimming. But on this section of beach, there isn't a lot of beach, just a lot of craggy rocks. There's not much point in fighting with the rocks. It's worth the wait to step on nice soft sand. Unfortunately, we waited a bit too long. The tide in Vil goes out forever. We had to walk almost a mile just to get to a decent patch of ocean. Once we got there, it was beautiful. The water isn't bathtub warm yet. And it was just cool enough to feel good under the hot heat of the sun.

Tired, sun burnt, and hungry, five of us went scavenging for food. We came across a take-away chicken place. In theory, take-away is Mozambican fast-food. In practice, not so much. We waited a good 90 minutes for our chicken. It was good chicken, but not worth the wait.

From there, Richie and I split off to head to the other Vil house. I had the keys and phone of the girl who I babysat for and we knew she would want these things back. But when we got to her house, she was nowhere to be found. We sat around for a while before finally getting in touch with her roommate. They didn't plan on coming back before dinner, which was fine because we had plans on meeting them for dinner.

The plan was to go to a place called Complexo Alemanha. We've been to this restaurant before, but just recently, they started serving pizza. We wanted to see how this pizza stacked up to New York Pizza. But by the time 7:00 rolled around, all of us were too tired and unmotivated to go anywhere. Instead, we ordered New York Pizza, which has free delivery. Don't judge me for eating pizza back-to-back days.

The rest of the night was, as expected, quiet. We drank socially, not gluttonously, and just talked while sitting in a tree house. It was a nice relaxing way to end the week.

Did I do something wrong? Did I have a sign on my back asking for people to push my buttons? Whatever it was brought together many forces of evil -- drunk dudes, money requests, tailgaters, loud music -- which contributed to a fairly miserable day.

The day started out with a market run. Evening being on my own for the day, we didn't have enough food in the house for me to survive. As soon as I made it into the market, I was stopped by a clearly drunk man. My only questions was why he got started so late. After all, it was 8 o'clock in the morning. This guy starts speaking to me, in broken English no less, and starts asking me all sorts of questions. Eventually, he tells me that he's looking for friends. Quite frankly, I don't want any more friends here. I'm happy with the friends I have and I'm checking out in a couple weeks. Either way, I told him that he could come to my house to talk. He probably won't even remember the conversation.

The rest of the morning was blissfully quiet. I read a bit of "White Teeth" before preparing for lunch. After lunch, I needed to go back to the market to pick up some phone credit for our internet connection. 200 yards outside of the school, I was stopped by another clearly drunk man who also tried to speak English with me. He asked me if I wanted to walk to the market with him. "No, I really don't." And that was that.

Once again, I had no luck in the first moments of my market run. The first person I saw in the market asked me for money. Haven't people figured out, after two years, that the muzungus don't give money to people? Why even bother asking? I bought enough phone credit to survive a couple days and made my way home.

Whatever bad luck I had getting in the market decided to follow me out of the market. 100 yards out, I hear "blah blah muzungu blah muzungu". Of course, I turned my head to see who this was. I don't know why I bothered to look at these faces of evil. Instead of paying attention to them, I sped up my gait. Given that we Americans walk faster that any Mozambican, this should have been enough to ditch them. Then again, I didn't count on them literally running after me to walk with me. No problem, I'll just play The Ignoring Game until they leave.

Except they never left. Eight women and children followed me all the way to the school. I sped up, they sped up. I slowed down, they slowed down. All. The way. Back. Eventually, maybe 100 steps from my house, they said "Tchau". I didn't even bother paying attention.

Richie, meanwhile, spent the day hauling back to Machanga from Inhambane. He arrived home around 5:30. I had already started cooking dinner -- cheese steaks. It was a night for celebration: today, we are less than two months from being home. As usual, we celebrated with cake. We were so close to having the thing baked, then the power went out. No problem: I threw together a Dutch oven, which should be good enough to get the thing cooked. Naturally, as soon as it got hot, the energy got back on. At least we had cake. We finished the night with a couple episodes of "Sons of Anarchy".

Or so we thought we had finished the night. Apparently some other people had cause for celebration. The house behind ours decided that it would be a good night for a dance party. From 10 o'clock until at least 2 in the morning, music blared at wall-shaking volume. At 2, I gave in and grabbed the ear plugs I had in my bag. Ah, silence. I quickly fell asleep after that.

For the second week in a row, I was really happy not to have work on Monday. It would have been disastrous if I had to teach today. Even with the ear plugs, I didn't get a good night's sleep. They can stop the sounds beautiful, but they can't stop the early sunlight from seeping into the house. I stayed in bed for a couple hours reading "White Teeth".

By 9:00, I had been up for a few hours and I was hungry like no other. Obviously, I couldn't make eggs for breakfast, so I turned to our oldie but goodie -- French Toast. It should hold me over for the rest of the morning. While I waited until lunch, i kept on in the book.

I thought I had put yesterday's bad luck behind me, but apparently I was wrong. Evil manifested itself today in bad eggs. Of the dozen eggs that I bought yesterday, seven of them were rotten. Well that fuckin sucks. At least we had enough good ones for lunch.

The afternoon was wonderfully quiet. I spent a fair portion of it napping. I've never been so happy to have a power outage. It meant perfect silence. Once I awoke, I spent some solving cryptograms, at one point nailing ten in a row.

Other than the lack of cake, the night pretty much went the same way as last night. We made beans for dinner, and mercifully finished the season of "Sons of Anarchy". I have no idea how this show got a second season. I don't think I'll be watching it.

Not only was Monday night quiet, but it was also cold. After a few hot nights, I was so sure that we were done with cold weather that I put away my blanket. My bad. I pulled the blanket off my shelves and had a beautiful night of sleep.

The winter weather stuck around for most of the morning Tuesday. Beside the sound of rain falling on our roof, the only noise I heard all morning came from my parents on the other end of a phone call.

I spent a bit of the Tuesday morning lesson-planning. This is our last full week of school and there are still some things I need to get through. I've spent so much time on verbs this trimester that I've pretty much ignored other parts of speech. I wanted to at least cover prepositions before they take their exam. T

After two quick classes, I was free for the afternoon. So was Richie. And so was Ussene, one of our partners in crime. This never ends of well. I joked with Richie that we should go get tanked in the villa. He wholeheartedly agreed. We then roped in Ussene. They were ready to go immediately, but I wanted to finish the last chapter of "White Teeth" before leaving. Thirty minutes later, we were on the move.

The rest of the afternoon is mostly a blur. Over the course of the next couple hours, the three of us knocked off a case of beer. Just another Tuesday in Machanga.

We came home just in time for dinner. Before the drinking bonanza began, I bought a frozen chicken. While we drank, the chicken defrosted. We roasted it and it turned out okay. Not our best work, but given our state of sobriety, we didn't really care. We watched a movie which was so bad that I'm not going to bother mentioning its title, and went to bed.

Wednesday morning was once again quiet. And once again it was grey, cold, and rainy. It wasn't a good rain. This rain will make absolutely no difference in the level of our well, but at least it's not hot outside.

I prepared for class late in the morning, hoping that my students would come get me immediately after lunch. But after lunch, one hour became two and two became three and I was never rescued. Between classes, Richie came home and told me that my students were just sitting there. Fuckers. Whatever.

I later found out what was going on. They had some sort of meeting with the director and they were just waiting for him. The meeting -- as I should have expected -- ran late, which pushed back my class a little bit.

After class, one of the girls in that group told me that she had to go to Beira and would miss the exam. Nope, she's not. I gave her two options: she could take the test now or take it when she gets back. Shockingly, she opted for now. She spent the next two hours in my house taking the exam and didn't do too badly (by Mozambican standards). She still needs to improve a bit, but I think she can pass come November.

Once she was gone, Richie and I moved into dinner mode. We made spaghetti for dinner with a cheese sauce packet. For our entertainment, we watched "The Crazies". At least it wasn't the worst movie we've seen all week.

While I hung around Thursday morning, I was doing some stuff on the internet and listening to music. My computer was hurting. The sound wasn't good, it was processing slow. And then a small roach crawled out of one of the USB ports. This isn't the first time this has happened, but today I decided would be the last. I grabbed a screwdriver and went to work.

What I saw was only mildly disturbing. There were no fewer than ten little roaches inside of my computer. And one of the wires was pretty frayed. There was no putting it together. This computer is officially dead. It just couldn't hold out for these last six weeks.

I wasn't too stressed about it. I had everything backed up a couple weeks ago. All of my music and pictures are in tact. I only lost one document of value and I should be able to get all that information back.

It's funny. If this kind of week had happened last year, it might have thrown me over the edge. But being so close to the end, having had plenty of these weeks before, knowing that I can't have that many more, I can't be too worried.

Class went pretty well today. It was the same lesson as yesterday's -- prepositions of time. There have been at least two or three questions involving these prepositions on every national exam from the past few years. These should be free points.

Richie and I made a market run late in the afternoon. We weren't looking for much in particular. We mostly just wanted to kill an hour or so.

For dinner, we went with something new: cinnamon lentils. We have had lentils before and they're pretty tasty. I figured if lentils are good and cinnamon is good, then cinnamon lentils should be pretty tasty. They were mediocre. Eh, whatever.the night was saved with "Extraordinary Measures", pretty good (and PG) movie about a guy trying to find a cure for Pompe Disease.

The cold nights disappeared again, leaving us sweating at night. It didn't matter to us. We knew that when we woke up on Friday, we could say something for the first time in two years: "We're going home next month." Feels good. Feels right.

With a bounce in my step, I walked over to the market in search of beef. We wanted to celebrate. When I got to the butcher's, the kid working there told me the cow would be killed this afternoon or tomorrow morning. Wonderful -- honesty appreciated.

I came home and prepared my last lesson, once again on prepositions. I took a ball and can into the classroom and played "Where is the ball?" with my students. They caught on quickly, though they had a hard time differentiating "off" and "out of". I explained it at least three times. I think most of them eventually figured it out.

After class, Richie and I returned to the market, hoping that the cow would be dead. But no cow was to be found. As long as we were there, I talked to the butcher, telling him I wanted another two kilos of filet. No problem, said he, come back tomorrow around noon. No problem.

Good thing we still had some beef left over in the freezer. We defrosted our remaining filet and threw it in a very tasty (and easy to chew) stir fry. Our movie of the night was "From Paris With Love". I was skeptical, but it was really good. I spent the rest of the night in Chuck Palahniuk's "Lullaby", an easy-to-read novel.

Saturday picked up right where Friday left off: with my book and without filet. I had great hope on Satuday. Yesterday, I managed to turn on a different laptop that was in need of XP. I called one of my students from last year who had an XP disc. Great -- should be up and running in no time. I gathered my things and headed across the river to Mambone.

But some great force of evil decided to show itself once again. When I got to Mambone, the computer wouldn't turn on. Why? Why?! I came home with the discs, holding out hope that it would turn on eventually.

After lunch, Richie and I headed to the market. We got there at 12:40, keeping in mind The 40-Minutes-Late rule. When we arrived, the butcher was sitting around eating. "No cow, no meat. Come back later in the afternoon." Fine. As long as we were in the market -- and had a bunch of money with us -- Richie thought scotch would be a good idea tonight. I'm in.

The afternoon was spent trying to turn on this last laptop, but the thing wouldn't cooperate. At least there's still one functioning laptop in this house. Let's hope it holds out until we leave.

We put up beans late in the afternoon. I wasn't holding out much hope for filet, and we weren't going to eat it tonight anyway, given that we just had steak last night. Regardless, I went over to the market late in the afternoon and there it was: a dead cow. It was so freshly killed that the butchers were still pulling the hide off of it. I could have easily come back an hour later, but decided to watch.

There are a few things I learned from watching. One: A cow's stomach (or rather stomachs) is HUGE! Two: once you take its four stomachs out, there's not really a lot of cow left. Three: the steak that we so love comes right off the spine. And four: it was not as bloody as I expecting. Mind you, I missed the actual killing. I've seen that before, and the streets run red when a cow is killed. But once they get to the gutting and carving, it's a shockingly clean process.

Anyways, I came back home with another two kilos of filet. This should last us a good couple weeks. In the meantime, we had beans to eat tonight and they were tasty as usual.

While we cooked dinner, I got a call from my host mom. She has a new Trainee staying at her house. A Moz 15! Just another sign that we're almost done.

Then the scotch was opened. As soon as we opened the bottle, I got a call from a fellow scotch-lover in the states: one of my best friends Joe. It was an unexpected call, which are really the best the kind. We talked for a good while, which meant I had to play catch-up with Richie and Ussene.

After knocking off the bottle (and a beer), we came back home. Richie went right to bed. I knocked off the leftovers from dinner and quickly followed. Just another boring night in Machanga

I was optimistic early Sunday morning. Having thrown down almost two liters of water during the night, I thought I had beat the hang-over monster. Just in case, I threw down half a liter of Gatorade and popped some precautionary aspirin.

In addition to said measures, I thought some fresh air would help me out. I made a run to the bank to flush out my bank account, quickly followed by a trip to a gas station to buy some biscuits and drinks for my students.

Our ride appeared at the hotel just around 9 o'clock. If we move well, we would arrive in Machanga just around 4 in the afternoon. The students generously offered me one of the four seats inside, an offer I gladly accepted. It turned out to be extraordinarily helpful. As soon as the car got going, I felt sick, and not driving-down-17-to-Santa-Cruz-as-a-child sick. I finished another bottle of Gatorade and quickly fell asleep.

I slept almost until Muxungue, where I knew we would be taking a break for lunch. I went on the hunt for the egg sandwich lady from Friday, but she was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I ran into someone who brought me to a random lady's house. She said she could make me egg sandwiches. I paid a premium for service – double the price of Friday's, but didn't have to wait particularly long. The sandwiches were okay; it's hard to fuck up a fried egg and bread. But it wasn't nearly as good as Friday's. Just goes to show that anyone can make an egg sandwich in Muxungue, but not everyone in Muxungue can make The Muxungue Egg Sandwich.

I felt much better once I had some food in my system. I was awake, tragically, for the rest of the ride, including the miserable sixty kilometers of dirt path to Machanga. With a good truck, the ride was almost tolerable. All said, though, we made good time: we were two minutes before 4 o'clock.

When I got home, I was tired to say the least, but I was also feeling somewhat inspired. I wanted to bang out some work before eating dinner. I knew I would have some time. As follows our unspoken deal, since I traveled all day, Richie was in charge of dinner. While he cooked spaghetti, I wrote up my final exam, which is a copy of the most recent National Exams. The kids are going to hate me for giving them 60 questions, but it will be good practice for them.

I finished typing just as the spaghetti and sauce came off the stove. Richie and I ate quickly, then moved into “Sons of Anarchy”. We've seen some bad movies here, and we've seen some bad television shows, but “Sons of Anarchy” might have won the distinction of being the worst of them all. And yet, we will continue to watch.

For the first time in at least a few weeks, I managed to sleep through the night. Not a single wake-up. Clearly the trick to a good night's sleep is a night of excessive drinking followed by an eight-hour travel day.

Never have I been so grateful to have Mondays off. I didn't want to do much of anything today. That's how most of my morning was spent – doing nothing productive. These days, Monday's have taken on new meaning for us. With football season upon us, we now have reason to go online every Monday morning – to check football scores. I spent a good part of the morning reading game recaps and catching up on some writing (this thing doesn't write itself, ya know).

After lunch, I became a productive member of the workforce again. We have but a few weeks of school to go, and I still have two exams to give. I spent a bit of time in the afternoon planning on my remaining classes. From there, I was able to write up the midterm that I'll be giving at the end of the week. All said, it was a very productive afternoon.

And I wasn't even done for the day. Having soaked beans in the morning, I was in charge of cooking beans in the afternoon. Actually, the real reason I'm in charge of beans is because my beans are so much better than Sozinho's. Go figure. Around 4 o'clock, I lit up the carvao and got cooking.

While the beans sat on the stove, I ran over to the director's office to print out the exam that I typed up yesterday. With some formatting tricks and printing two sheets per page (still readable), I cut down the exam from seven to three pages. It will save the kids eight Mets a piece, money they can spend on, well, other exams.

The beans and rice finished cooking around 6:30. We devoured our food. For some reason, Sozinho chose not to eat beans. Always a terrible decision. But it was good news for us: we'll make burritos tomorrow. We continued with the misery that is “Sons of Anarchy” after eating. Just before bed, I started a new book, Zadie Smith's “White Teeth”. So far, it's very funny.

I slept well Monday night, but I'm fearing that the days of not sweating through the sheets at night will be coming to an end very soon. It's definitely getting hotter at night, the sun is up earlier, and as such, so are we – on both counts.

There were rumblings Tuesday morning about classes being canceled for the day. The governor of Sofala is in town, and whenever a government official is in town, he (and it's almost always a “he”) draws the attention of all the teachers. By late morning, classes were officially canceled. Lots of important business, I'm sure.

I kept myself busy around the house. There was plenty of cleaning to be done, and is as usually the case, once I get started cleaning, I usually go for hours on end. I started with the kitchen table, which is become a cemetery for, well, everything. From there I took on my own room, which wasn't all that much work. That's one of the nice upsides of living in a room not much larger than a jail cell. When Richie got back from class, we got to work on the book shelves. All said, it was a productive morning.

The cleaning took us right up until lunch. It was a perfect afternoon for a nap. The breeze was blowing the right way, nobody was here to bother us. I wasn't horizontal for more than five minutes before I fell asleep.

Once I woke up, I took care of some school business. With class canceled today, I had to reassess my lesson plans for the rest of the year. The lesson will be pushed to later in the week, which is fine. It'll be a little rough for one of the groups – to learn a lesson one day, then have it on the test the next day – but I suspect they'll be just fine.

Late in the afternoon, my parents gave me a ring. I was wondering where they had been, since they normally call on Sundays. Who could believe that mCel would have problems?

We had a bounty of beans left over from last night, but it wasn't enough to be its own meal. They would play a fine supporting role in burritos. We defrosted some (a very little bit) of our precious filet, cooked some rice and tortillas, made some salsa, and ate delicious Mexican food.

The rest of the night was a repeat of last night: two horrible episodes of “Sons of Anarchy” followed by some time in bed with “White Teeth”.

I should say that the rest of the night while I was awake was the same, because the sleeping was definitely different. Whatever breeze there was in the afternoon dissipated. It was hot, muggy, in a word – miserable. It wasn't sweat-through-the-sheets hot, but it was hot enough to keep me awake until almost 2 in the morning. Pleasant.

And because it was so damn hot at night, it only got hotter in the morning that much faster. I didn't get more than a few hours of decent sleep. I should probably get used to this. The nights for next nine weeks could be like this.

I was treated to a phone call from my brother Wednesday morning. This was the second consecutive time that he has called at an insane hour – 11:30 PM his time. It's a great time for me (8:30 in the morning) and I'm always happy to talk to my brother whatever the hour is. We chatted for almost an hour, which was nice, because the last time we talked, my sister kept stealing from the phone from him.

The rest of the morning was pretty quiet. It was crazy windy for most of the morning, which knocked out the electricity on our side of the river. I would have liked to have done some writing, but instead I gave myself a haircut and powered on with “White Teeth” until lunch.

My students came by early in the afternoon, asking me to use up a time slot from another teacher. It seems like most of the teachers have checked out. I'm not totally there yet. Three more weeks and I'll be done. After my lesson, I told the students the scheduled date of their final. I had hoped to give them their exam on a Friday, so I could give the exam to them and the other class on the same day. For some reason, all of the students of twelfth grade are heading to Beira the Thursday before the slated date. They said Wednesday would be better. That's fine by me – just need to talk to a couple teachers to see if I can use their class time.

That shouldn't be much of a problem. It's not like the teachers here need a reason to not go to class. I was giving them a gift. The only torturous part of this was that the teachers with whom I needed to speak were the director and the assistant director. I try to keep involvement with them to a minimal, but they were both fine with it.

Richie and Sozinho were in the mood for fish tonight. I guess it's spaghetti for me. With powdered milk, some butter that was in the house, and sauce packet, I had some pretty tasty alfredo sauce – a nice change from tomato sauce. After eating, we continued with “Sons of Anarchy” and I marched on with “White Teeth”.

I was thrilled that the night wasn't nearly as hot as the night before. All I had to contend with tonight were crazy Larium dreams, one after another until I woke up.

Shortly after I woke up, I heard a small rumbling in my room. I thought I had heard it last night, but it could have easily been the Larium doing its thing. This time, I was certain of it. I started going through my room, wondering what it could be. I finally got to our suitcases when it heard it again. Out go the suit cases, time to crack em open.

And that's when I saw it. Well not all of it. But enough of it that I knew what I was. A rodent had taken apparently taken residence in my room yesterday. With the help of some bug spray and peanut butter, we induced the sucker. This wasn't some ugly rat: just a little field mouse, probably trying to avoid hawks, owls, and snakes. We liberated him into the wild again. We'll let nature take its course.

As long as I had the suitcases outside, I figured it would be a good opportunity to do a massive clean-up. I went through my bag and tossed out some ancient, unnecessary things. I swept, mopped, flipped my mattress, simply made my room a nicer place. It was a good way to spend the morning.

I had class immediately after lunch, just the way I like it. I had a repeat of the lesson I taught yesterday, followed by a brief preparation for their midterm. I'm praying to whatever deities are out there that these kids do better the second time around with this content.

Following class, I made a run to the market in search of beef. Sure, we still have filet sitting in the freezer, but we want to use that for special occasions. For regular meals, we'll take low-grade stuff. Even this cut of beef, though, wasn't terrible. It goes without say that we've had a lot worse. With the beef, I made a tasty stir fry for the three of us. And like the rest of the week, I ended my night with “Sons of Anarchy” and “White Teeth”.

Friday morning appeared to be a normal morning. I went to the market to pick up some eggs, swung to the other side of town to buy bread – nothing special. But then, as I walked into the house, I was called over to someone's house. I thought I had heard my name. It's just the source that surprised me. After almost two years, I have finally won the heart of Bucket Girl.

A brief history is necessary here. In the first few months we were here, Richie and I were sitting on our porch (as we tend to do), staring blankly out into open. It was then that we saw Gida, the nine-month-old daughter of one our colleagues, nearly go head over heals into a bucket. With reason, we found this hilarious and in a very Seinfeldian way, we dubbed her “Bucket Girl”.

Now, over the course of our stay, Gida has gone through many stages with us. At first, it was utter fear. We couldn't get within 50 feet of her without her crying. Then she moved into the ignoring stage: we were dead to her. After a few months of that, there was embarrassment. We'd get little smiles, but she'd always shy away. All the while, I've been trying to win her over with cookies and other various sweets. If she ends up diabetic, it's me who is to blame.

And then today, as I walked into my ho use, we hit the friendship stage. The following is my first conversation with two-and-a-half year old Bucket Girl.

B.G. “Lee. Estou a pedir bolacha”. I am asking for a cookie.

Me “de chocolate?”

B.G – (nods).

Me – “Okay, espera.” Wait. I go to my house and grab two Girl Scout Thin Mints, then hand 'em over to Bucket Girl.

Mother of B.G. – “Diz obrigado”. Say thank you. Goes to show that no matter where you go, certain things are constant.

B.G. – “Obrigado”.

My heart is aflutter. I have won over Bucket Girl. I can call my Peace Corps Service a success.

The rest of the day could be a complete disaster – it might be, with an exam coming up – and I'd still declare this day a victory.

I squeezed in a shower while Richie was cooking lunch. I was due. My feet we a disturbing shade of brown. Cleaned and, after lunch, full, I went over to the school to give my last ever midterm in this country. Shed a tear I will not.

Three hours of standing around, by in large uneventful. I no longer look for cheaters. The kids' eyes can wander all they want. Now that I'm printing multiple versions of the same exam, I no longer have to catch cheaters. The test will do it for me. Most of the kids seem to have figured this out, but there will surely be a few who don't realize what I'm up to.

As soon as I finished in the school, I came over to correct the exams. I want to have these suckers finished before dinner. As it turns out, only one girl cheated. She ended up with a 15%, only because I didn't change the order of the answers on three of the questions. It's a tough road to passing this trimester for her after that performance. Aside from her and a couple other non-cheaters, the students did very well. There were at least five perfect scores over the ninety-some students.

I was on my own for the rest of the students. Richie crossed the river to Mambone and will continue south to Inhambane tomorrow. After talking to my grandfather for a bit, I cooked up some spaghetti for myself. There would be no “Sons of Anarchy tonight” – watching this alone would be like drinking a bottle of scotch alone, a sure sign of depression or at least boredom – so I skipped right to “White Teeth”.

The night was strangely – blissfully – cold. I knew I had slept well when the first thing I heard in the morning was Sozinho asking me to unlike the door.

Saturday was yet another holiday in the Mozambican calendar, this time Armed Forces Day. I was in bed, reading, when I got a text message from Priscilla, the Brazilian volunteer who replaced Alexis. “Are you coming to the celebration?” I gave her my standard answer – “No need to go, they're all the same”. She would later tell me that moments after I sent that message, one of the dance groups that danced a couple weeks ago came out to the dance to the exact same song. I feel redeemed.

I did, however, tell her that I'd meet her over at Madinha's late in the morning. When I went over, I was met by six colleagues sitting outside drinking beer. 11 o'clock is an appropriate hour to drink, right? Shortly after I arrived, Priscilla and a colleague of hers arrived. After talking for a bit, we fell into stereotypical Mozambican roles – the girls went to cook, and I joined my colleagues, throwing down glass after glass of beer.

There was a payoff for sticking around almost four hours at Madinha's. She and the girls prepared lunch and I was apparently included on this. Nice. I will always take free food, especially beef. I ate two plates of food, then jumped on my bike, heading for home.

The rest of the afternoon was quiet. I think everyone – including myself – was resting up for the big night ahead.

I had fully intended to go out again in the evening. I prepared myself as best as I could – water, Gatorade, food – but by 8:45, I was exhausted. There was no way I'd make it to 11, just to s

With English theater taking place this weekend and my boss heading to Mambone early in the week, I knew that I'd be busy. I just didn't know how busy I would be.

The work began Sunday morning with preparations for English theater. One of the scenes of the play takes place in South African diamond mines. It's not really enough to have a sign that says “South Africa Mining Co.”; we needed props. I went on the hunt for some thin tree branches to make pick axes. The picks were secured with wire and covered with black plastic bags and packing tape to make them look metallic. Considering the resources, they turned out well.

That little task kept me busy all the well until lunch. A little after lunch, we got a visit from the new Brazilian volunteer here. She is the person who replaced Alexis. She's here for a year which means – finally – we'll be leaving before someone else here. We told her the same thing as Alexis – our house is open if she ever just needs to get away from the orphanage.

I spent a little bit of the afternoon continuing in “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius”. Unlike Richie, I think the book – for the most part – is pretty good. It has some painfully slow parts, but otherwise it's enjoyable. Later in the afternoon, I fired up the carvao and cooked beans.

Wedged in between phone calls from my grandmother and parents, Richie and I had dinner. I don't know what I did right this time, but these beans were probably the best beans I've cooked here. People are quick to knock rice and beans as a meal, but it's probably the healthiest and tastiest thing we eat here. It's not like it's just rice and beans with nothing added. It requires no oil, is high in protein and fiber and uses lots of veggies.

For our entertainment tonight, we watched “The Hurt Locker”. It was good, but not Oscar-worthy. I haven't seen “Avatar” yet, but from what I heard, it sounds amazing. As for other movies that came out last year, I liked “Up in the Air” and “The Blind Side” more than “The Hurt Locker”. In my humble opinion, “The Hurt Locker” winning Best Picture was as much of an anti-war political statement as Obama winning the Nobel having accomplished nothing as president.

I didn't sleep particularly well on Sunday night, but what else is new? This time, it was a combination of the beans getting to my stomach and the Larium getting to my head. Good thing I had a crazy busy day ahead.

I was scheduled to go into English theater practice on Monday morning, but the timing interfered with a higher priority: a quick trip to Mambone. My boss was in town to check out a couple of houses for the soon-to-arrive Moz 15s. He brought some meds up for me. In exchange, I passed off some paperwork and Peace Corps books to him. The trip, maybe four or five kilometers in total, took up the entire morning.

As long as I was in the sun and sweaty, I figured I'd knock out two more tasks. I went to buy bread but there was no bread. I would have bought it in Mambone, but I had almost no money left after paying our energy bill and shopping. The second task was much more successful. I figured that while I was paying my bill, I could bring back bills for the other teachers here. Before rewarding myself with lunch, I handed the bills out too all the teachers.

All of that work should have earned me a nap, but there was more work to be done. While I was in Mambone, Sozinho went out to find me some bamboo to hold up some English theater signs. I spent the next couple hours cutting down and taping up bamboo to paper. They're far from perfect, but they'll do.

I took a brief break from sign-making to go hunting. Yes, hunting. For the last couple of days, there has been a rat in our bathroom. I have yet to see it, so as far as I'm concerned, ignorance is bliss. But everyone else has seen it. We tried to bait it with chicken bones and peanut butter, but the little guy wouldn't come out. We sat waiting for a couple hours, but he never appeared. Good thing we have the time to waste.

Late in the afternoon, I got back to sign-making. I had one last sign to draw and secure with bamboo. It was maybe an hour of work. I though that I was done for the day, but just after dinner, my English theater counterpart came over to write up a permission slip for our actors and actresses. There are plenty of things I can do in Portuguese, but formal letter writing is not among those skills.

Being busy all day was clearly the solution for getting a good night's sleep. For the first time in weeks, I managed to sleep through the night.

I continued riding the wave of business into Tuesday morning. The little shop that sells bread finally got a shipment in from Mambone. After the bread run, I took a couple minutes to write up a summary of our play for the people who will be judging the plays. My productive morning finished up with lesson planning for the day.

Class went alright today. I had two quick classes, back to back. The lesson was on phrasal verbs with “look”. I think it went well because I was able to make fun of some students to get across the point. One girl came in really late. Normally she has hair extensions, but today, she came in with a head shaved perfectly smooth. So I got to write on the board “It looks like Albertina lost her hair”. Everyone in the class laughed, but her. Mind you, she looked beautiful. She didn't laugh because she didn't understand what I wrote because she wasn't in class. Eventually, someone explained it to her. You'd think you wouldn't be able to see people so dark-skinned blush, but this girl's cheeks turned bright pink. In the other class, I had Sozinho to pick on: “Sozinho looks like a monkey.” Once again, everyone appreciated this except for the target.

Upon my return from class, I got stopped by a teacher who needed some help solving some math problems. Good thing he's teaching math, huh? They were actually pretty tough problems. All of them involved logarithms and substitution, from which I am years removed. I got a brief review of how logarithms work, then got cracking on the problems. I got the answers for all three, but was only able to truly solve one. One of them, I knew I couldn't resolve. The third one, however, I knew could be solved but just wasn't sure how. This was going to kill me.

I tried to solve that problem for thirty minutes, but came away empty-handed. Maybe a nap would help. At least I got myself a bit of rest. Once awake, I dove into “A Thousand Splendid Suns”. A wanted to read this before “A.H.W.O.S.G.” but got caught up into the Eggers book. I read until the energy came on, at which time I ran over to the office to print out the permission slips for the kids.

The night was way longer than I wanted it to be. We had a pretty good stir fry for dinner and watched “Up” afterward. “Up” was way better than “The Hurt Locker” from last week. One of these days, an animated film is going to win Best Picture. It probably should have been this one. After the movie, I crawled into bed to do some more reading until about 10 o'clock. When I turned the lights out, I was wide awake. The nap from earlier did me in. I rolled around for two hours before I decided to make myself useful. At midnight, I grabbed the math problem I had been working on and solved it in about five minutes. Maybe that was on my mind because within a couple minutes of solving the problem, I was sound asleep.

Wednesday started with an English theater that lasted all morning. This was our last day of practice before we head to Chimoio on Friday, so my colleague and I wanted to make sure that everything was running as smoothly as possible. We ran through the play maybe seven or eight times, until we were satisfied. We both believe that it's a top-three play. We'll see this weekend.

Theater practice brought me right up to lunch, which was convenient because I was starving. Even though Richie and I both teach late – he begins third period, I begin fifth – we both wanted to be done eating by 12:30 because of the huge possibility that our students want us to teach early. While I waited, prayed that my students would come to get me early, I typed up a document that a student had asked me to type.

Finally, around third period, the student who asked me to type the document came by – both to see if the document had been typed and if I could come into class to teach. Yes and yes. We're marching on with phrasal verbs, at least through next week. Today's phrasal verbs all involved the verb “take”. There are only about a thousand phrasal verbs with “take”. I could already the hear the “Teacher! Enough!” complaints, so I chose eight common, easy ones.

I wanted to get out of the house after class, so I ran to the market looking for nothing in particular. We needed some things, but nothing that couldn't wait. I walked over to the butchery to see if they had any beef and I hit the jackpot. The butcher had been saving filet for someone, but he was running hours late (go figure) and the butcher wanted money now. Really? Filet? I'll take two kilos of that.

I did a bit of reading before getting dinner ready. This was going to be a glorious night of eating. Sozinho told me he wanted to cook the meat. I laughed at him. He would probably live up to his nickname and ruin it. I wasn't going to let him to do that. Not to my glorious filet mignon. I cut, seasoned and barbecued. It was the best meat we've had in this country. I'm really happy I bought two kilos of it. Most of it is still sitting in our friend's freezer.

Richie crashed shortly after dinner. I did a bit of reading before following suit.

It was a pretty quiet morning on Thursday. I read for a little bit before realizing that I still hadn't resolved the issue of how we would be getting to Chimoio. A school car from Mangunde is supposed to take us, but we've heard nothing about it. I talked to the person responsible for arranging these things. It took a bit of teeth-pulling, but by lunchtime, I had an answer. The car would arrive sometime tomorrow morning and we'd be on our way.

I had class immediately after lunch. This was the same lesson as yesterday, but for the other class. They seemed to pick it up as easily as the first group. As anticipated, I got one “Teacher! Enough!” complaint. “How are we going to pass the midterm? There are thirty verbs to remember!” Clearly, he was not around for my diatribe a couple weeks ago, when I told them that they should all be studying maybe fifteen minutes every night.

I ran to the market after class to pick up some supplies for dinner. We're doing beans, but we were missing onions, a vital ingredient, and needed eggs for tomorrow. I only had to wait an hour between returning home and starting the fire to get cooking.

While the beans cooked, I ran over to the school office to print out a document for one of my students. I told him to come by in the morning to pick it up, but I wouldn't be around. I'm sure he'll be happy to get his hands on it from whomever.

The beans, as usual, we're delicious. I would eat rice and beans every night, but too much beans can actually lead to blindness. It's a shame because aside from this, it is a perfect meal. For our entertainment tonight, we watched “Sons of Anarchy”. It's a pretty shitty show – bad plot lines, really bad writing, and worse yet acting – but we're probably going to suffer through the entire season.

I woke up on the early end Friday morning. It's not that I was anticipating the car arriving early – I thought it would be here between 8:30 and 9; I just had some things I needed to do before getting out of here, like showering and packing. I was wrong with my estimation. The car rolled up at 9:07. Can't complain about that. Also can't complain about the fact that all of my students were already at school when the car arrived. It's all about anticipation: I told them to be at school at 8:00. My guess is that most of them arrived around 8:45.

There were ten of us going up to Chimoio, with only four seats in the truck. The other six of us piled into the back of the truck. The first 60 kilometers down the dirt road was pretty miserable. Once we hit pavement, it was smooth sailing. We stopped in Muxungue for some delicious egg sandwiches. It was here that we were told that we'd have to go into Mangunde to swap drivers.

Whatever. It set us back two hours and we had to endure another fifty kilometers of dirt road, but it was fine. If there was any upside, it's that I was able to check my email, thanks to Mangunde's wifi connection and my iTouch.

From Mangunde, things went by quickly. We had maybe another three hours in the car before we arrived in Chimoio. We got the kids settled into their rooms. Naturally, they were all glued to the televisions. There was no rest for me, though. After taking a shower, I got right back to work.

For at least a couple hours, we were busy hounding the staff of the hotel to get dinner going. The didn't realize that people were on the road all day and we wanted to eat at a normal hour. The first of two groups ended up eating at 8:00. The kitchen staff was moving ineffectively. Three people were working on putting together a food of plate: one person serving, one person holding the plate, one person running the plate outside. I decided to take over this operation, putting together an assembly line. This newly-found efficiency prompted a marriage proposal from one of the women working in the kitchen. I told her that she just wanted me for my kitchen skills.

The second shift ran much smoother. While the first group finished up, I helped wash dishes and put the next round of plates together. The second group had no wait time, which is how it should be.

The fight continued after dinner. The hotel was really screwing us on price. We were not really receiving what we were paying for. And they just dropped the price increase on us without warning. We yelled and negotiated for half an hour, eventually getting half of the plates at a reduced price.

The last thing we had to do was put together small sandwiches for the students for breakfast. It was a stressful day to say the least, and I wasn't even the one most stressed. Bryan, our colleague in Mangunde, was in charge of the whole event. You could only imagine the stress he was under. Once everyone was fed and in bed, I took him out for a beer or two as a reward.

The big day finally arrived for our students. Everybody was up and out of the hotel around 7 o'clock. We walked over to the theater, about 20 minutes away. I think all of the students were overwhelmed by how big the place was. By around 8:30, we got the show started. Machanga would be performing second, which was nice for us. We'd get it done right away, the kids wouldn't have to think about what they were doing, and I could be of help to Bryan for the rest of the afternoon.

Our kids did really well. We had two minor mistakes, but otherwise things went very well. I couldn't have asked for it to run much smoother. And yet, as is human nature, the kids were all worried about the mistakes they made.

After our students went, I wasn't able to watch any of the plays. First I was busy organizing – then cleaning – snack. Following snack, I ran into town to find Bryan to help him with lunch. We got lunch to the students around 12:45, then I got all the lunch stuff cleaned up.

The timing worked out pretty well. I got everything squared away right when the plays ended. The judges took their sweet time determining the places. Amazingly, the judges started at last place. We were all blown away by this. As the judges read the school names, Machanga was never mentioned. There's a chance that we could actually win. We got to the top three without being mentioned. “Number three – New Horizons School”. Crap, we could actually win. “Number two – Machanga”.

The students were happy. Really happy. They were probably a little disappointed that they didn't win – and that they were so close to winning – but it's hard to be sad about it. They placed second out of 14 schools. And when you take into account that so many of the schools have so many good (Zimbabwean) English speakers, it's even more amazing. Whatever disappointment our students had was quickly erased when the judges announced that one of our students (deservedly) won best actor.

I had planned on taking care of some shopping, but that plan was quickly erased when someone proposed getting a drink. Of course, the situation quickly devolved. A bottle of Jameson was brought out, more beers rolled out. Eight hours later, we were all pretty toasted. I ate dinner around midnight. I had to wait almost an hour for my chicken, but I can't complain. It was too good of a week to end on a bad note.

Buzzing, warm, and flat. Machanga is taking its sweet time transitioning to the hot season, and I couldn't be happier about it. The days have been noticeably warmer, but the nights are perfect for sleeping. The only thing impeding me from a perfect night's sleep -- other than my sad excuses for a mattress -- is the buzzing of mosquitoes. This isn't small thing. The mosquitoes have invaded and they love to make plenty of noise. Something had to be done about this.

I walked over to the market before the sun got too high overhead to buy some bug spray. As I walked over, I couldn't help but notice how flat Machanga has become over the last couple of weeks. The soil has yielded everything it can for this growing season. Now, everyone is preparing for the next rainy season. That means controlled burns and sending the animals out to the fields. Goats and cows are fattening themselves up on dying corn stalks. (they're happy now. If only they knew their final destination...). Nebraska-on-Rio-Save is rapidly being reduced into a sprawl of dirt paths.

While at the market, I bought a toothbrush for the first time in two years. That's not to say that I haven't been changing my brushes on a regular basis. I came here armed with ten brushes, using one every ten weeks. Now, 100 weeks in, I was out of toothbrushes. This is the first and only toothbrush I'll buy here.

Before I could commence the mosquito genocide, I cleaned up my room. The last thing I need is a pile dead mosquitoes on top of my shoes and laundry bag. With a nice graveyard prepared, I shut the door and went crazy. The bug spray smells awful -- I may have increased my chances at some sort of cancer -- but man, it does the job.

Spraying was just the first of three phases in the mosquito slaughter. The second and more important of this task required a needle and thread. The mesh covering my windows has been badly torn. The opening provided a perfect entry-point/getaway for those bloodsucking creatures. Using a piece of my mosquito net and a piece of capulana, Richie and I began patching up the window. I don't know how effective it will be, but it can't be worse than what has been.

We managed to finish about half the job when we realized that it was already 1 o'clock. Damn. We lit carvao and got some lunch in.

Richie disappeared for a little in the afternoon. I think he ran to the market, but I'm never sure where he vanishes to when he decides to walk around. I roped Sozinho into helping me out with the second half of my window. The job was finished around 3 o'clock.

On a normal day, all of this progress would have earned me a nap, but there was still more to do. Around 4:30, I lit carvao once again to make beans. I failed on this front today -- completely forgot to add garlic, a truly vital ingredient. After eating we watched "She's Out of Your League". We had slightly elevated hopes for this movie -- we figured there had to be a hot girl in it -- but it was a pretty shitty film. I ended my night with a bit of "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius".

I definitely slept better Sunday night. Maybe that had to do with the death of 100 or so mosquitoes. I woke up refreshed, motivated, ready for work. Unfortunately, the work that I had to do would be utterly depressing. Another stack of exams sat waiting for my red pen. After two hours of work, the results were clear: the science students, as usual, dominated the languages students. They scored about 4% higher than the languages kids and had a passing rate that was doubly better. Still, less than half the kids passed. This is going to require a speech later in the week.

The price of bread went up today, from 5 Mets per roll to 6. It's not a huge hit for us. The truth is, we'll probably just eat less bread. But coupled with other price increases, it's going to be a huge hit for a lot of Mozambicans. I don't know how they're going to handle it.

Because of a holiday tomorrow, Richie was able to cancel class this morning, but he couldn't avoid class in the afternoon. While he was in class, I kept myself busy with some small tasks. I had to punch grades into a spreadsheet and I also fixed up another window that had some holes. Satisfied with my work, I settled back into "A.H.W.O.S.G" (the title is just way too long to type out every time).

When Richie came back from the market, we did our regular "what should we do for dinner" dance. We were hoping for beef in the market, and decided on chicken as a back-up. The only problem: there was neither beef nor chicken in the market. Thank goodness we still had frozen chicken breast in our neighbor's freezer. We defrosted the chicken, through it in tomato sauce for pasta and had a tasty dinner. While watching "Shutter Island" -- which was one fucked up movie -- we made a cake, a celebration for not having to work tomorrow.

Tuesday was a national holiday in Mozambique: Lusaka Accord Day. For some reason, I decided to go to the town plaza for the ceremony. About half way through, I remembered why I never come to these things – they're always exactly the same. After the ceremony a government official gave a speech. I'm convinced that it's a standard speech with the date and holiday name changed. Following the speech was some dancing by the same groups that always danced. Ten minutes into the dancing, Richie and I had had enough.

On the way back to the house, something incredible happened. My glorious Rainbow sandals broke. In six years of wearing Rainbows, I have never had a sandal break. Sure, they get worn down, but the strap on these actually snapped. It was amazing. And depressing. My day is ruined. Only a post-lunch nap could make me feel better.

After my nap, I went over to the market to buy a new pair of sandals. These sandals are definitely not as comfortable as my Rainbows (R.I.P), and they are certainly not appropriate for the classroom. Still, I refuse to wear socks in this country and thankfully, I have another pair of sandals that are classroom appropriate. While at the market, I also bought some chicken cocktail sausages to be used for dinner.

Once I got back, Richie declared that he wanted fish together. Looks like I'm on my own with those chicken sausages. I made some rice, stir-fried some veggies and had a delicious dinner. After dinner, we watched “Up in the Air”, the best movie we've seen this week.

I had an English theater meeting on Wednesday morning. It's official: I should never show up on time for these meetings. I was there at 8:30 as usual, but none of my students were there. I came back to the house to pick up some work and went back. By that time, two students had arrived. We didn't get going until 9:30.

It's a good thing the kids have pretty much nailed their lines because I would have gone nuts otherwise. The timing of the play is also perfect. Now we just have to put together the proper clothing and we'll be good to go for next weekend.

When I came back from theater, I decided to prepare a lesson for class in the afternoon. I still wasn't sure if I was going to actually give the lesson. It depends on how long test correction takes and how demoralized the students are.

Shortly after lunch, a students came by my house to ask me to give class early. Naturally I said okay. I went over to the room and posted the answers on the blackboard. The kids were a little confused that I had posted for answer sheets. Then they realized that there were four different exams. Oops. They were probably wondering why I was so lax on wandering eyes. Now they knew.

It took an hour to go over the exam, and then I gave my spiel. I asked how many of them studied for the exam; no hands went up. Nice. Maybe that has something to do with everyone failing. They were defeated. They had mentally checked out for the day. A lesson would be of no use.

I came back from class at the perfect time to cook beans. I salvaged a bit of carvao from lunch to restart carvao. These beans were much better than Sunday's edition. Small victories. For our entertainment, we watched “The invention of Lying”. Back to shitty movies. I saved the night with a bit of “A.H.W.O.S.G”.

For most of the week, I haven't been able to sleep through the night. I've been waking up at 2:00 or so, dehydrated. Tonight was no different. Up at 2:08 AM. Lovely. I threw down a glass of water and slept until 7:30, with a brief wake-up around 5:00. It's not a sustainable schedule.

While I sat around the house in the morning, my phone rang. It was a strange hour for a phone call: 9:30. It was especially strange since that call was coming from California, just past midnight there. On the other end of the line were my brother and sister, fumbling around on speaker phone. I don't know how much ground we covered over the course of the conversation, but I do know that I probably remember the conversation a little more clearly than they do.

I spent the rest of the morning doing some English theater work. Signs needed to be designed and colored in. Richie said I was just bored. This was somewhat true. But it also had to be done. It kept me busy until lunch time.

I was scheduled for class right after lunch, at 12:30. I had the same gameplan as yesterday: just returning exams. I know these kids are going to be to frustrated by their grades to power through with a lesson. I gave the same speech as I did yesterday? “Who studied? More than 15 minutes? More than 30 minutes?” There was no need to go beyond that; nobody studied more than a half-hour for my exam. And they wonder why they failed.

After class, Richie and I headed to the market to make some dinner purchases. Word had gone around town that a cow would be slaughtered at some point in the afternoon. When we got there, the cow was all cut up, decapitated, meat sitting on it's hide. Yummy. It looked like there was a lot of good beef left so I asked for two kilos instead of our standard one. Ah, the power of having access to a freezer.

When I got home, I got to work on the meat, cutting it up into meal-sized chunks. The meat cut like butter, a good sign. There was no sense in discussing what we would do with this beef. Invariably, we just dance around the subject, leaving it to the other person to decide. I made the executive decision tonight: stir fry.

The beef was absolutely delicious. Tender, easy to chew, went down easy. It's the first time in a while that we've had a good cut of beef. I was especially happy with my decision to buy two kilos. We didn't want to wreck this night with a shitty movie. We looked through the reviews of the movies we had and found a movie with a good review – “Defendor”. We were skeptical, but it was actually pretty good.

Friday morning meant English theater practice. As usual, I showed up right on time at 8:30. Of course, no one was a round. At least I came prepared: I brought a book with me this time. We didn't get started until almost 10:00. This is getting frustrating, especially since we only have a week until the competition.

While I was at theater practice, Richie was on the road to Inhassoro. He was all but out of money. And with me going to Chimoio next weekend, he definitely would not have survived until our next payday.

The only upside to starting practice so late was that we finished right in time to make lunch. I had a full afternoon in front of me after lunch. Four classes, one right after the other. Or so they were scheduled to be that way. The first two went off as scheduled, but my when I went in for my third hour, another teacher was giving a test. And after that, another teacher wanted to give a lesson. Fine, whatever. I told a student to come get me when they were ready.

It was almost 4 o'clock by the time they came to get me. Apparently, plenty of students thought Friday meant weekend. Of the fifty students that were supposed to be in that class, exactly fifteen stuck around for English. I say again: and they wonder why they fail my exams. I had to reward these students. I gave each of them an extra ten percent on their exams. For at least five of them, this was the difference between failing and passing.

Richie was back at home by the time I got out of class around 5:15. He was tired, sunburnt, and covered in dirt. I knew I would be in charge of dinner tonight. We dug into our neighbor's freezer and pulled out some of our remaining beef. He needed a victory. I needed a victory. We went with cheese steaks. Victory! After dinner tonight, we watched “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past”. It wasn't terrible, but there are certainly better movies out, I'm sure (I hope...).

Another night, another 2 AM wake-up. I'm over this.

We were supposed to have English theater practice this morning at 8:30, but I had forgotten about some teachers meeting at 8. Of course, this meant 8:40, and naturally, I wouldn't be attending the meeting. But it did mean English theater practice would have to be pushed to the afternoon.

I kept myself busy making some props for the play. In the play, there are a couple of scenes with some miners. To make it look good, we wanted to give them some tools. As such, my morning was spent with a Leatherman (way better than a Swiss Army Knife) making some mining tools. Considering the complete lack of resources, I think they came out well.

We rescheduled practice for 1:30 which in all likelihood meant 2 o'clock. This gave me plenty of time to eat lunch before heading over to the school – book in hand – at 1:30.

Then the waiting began. I waited. A couple more students arrived. We waited. A few more arrived. We waited. By 2:30, seven out of eight students were there. It took the last student another hour to get there. New record for tardiness.

The worst of it was, once everyone was there, they weren't taking it seriously. This with six days until we had to Chimoio. My counterpart on eye let them know our displeasure. We gave some directions on how we wanted things and they eventually got it together.

The evening was quieter than usual. Richie was locked away in his room well past our normal dinner time. I figured I was on my own for dinner. I didn't want to put together anything special, so I used one of my boxes of Mac and Cheese. Always good to have something easy on reserve. A bit later, a colleague came over wanting some information on physics. He didn't realize that the internet doesn't just give answers to problems. Yes, the internet may have tons of information, but it's not a substitute for thinking.

By 9 o'clock he was gone, just in time for me to go to bed.

Something bad was bound to happen.

After an absolutely perfect day yesterday, there was no way that I could have a good day on Sunday. It started almost as soon as I woke up. In coming down to Vilanculos, I had hoped that I could update anti-virus on my laptop. When I took my laptop outside though, it wouldn't turn on. It turned on just fine when it was plugged in, but now it won't turn on. Great. Battery is shot. Again. There was a time - about six weeks ago - that I seriously considered bringing this computer home. It had been working decently. Then the video playback got choppy. Now this. Looks like this computer might meet another broomstick.

To clear my head, I made a run to the market to pick up some food for lunch. There was no need for epic negotiation today. I know the price of vegetables and at this point, most of the market people recognize me. I came back prepared to make some egg sandwiches for lunch.

Even though I slept well last night, I still felt tired. Maybe it was the heat. Hot season is officially in full swing here. Maybe it was just the frustration of dealing with a busted computer. Either way, after lunch, I was ready for a nap. It didn't take long. As soon as I hit the mattress, I was out cold for a solid two hours.

My day was almost salvaged late in the afternoon. I ran over to my tailor's shop to pick up a new shirt. He did a beautiful job on it and in just one day. Nice job, Alexandre. I came back to the girls' house looking forward to a conversation with my parents and pizza. The phone call, as usual, was lovely. Right in the middle of it, the pizza man came, but with only one pizza. Where's my pizza? They didn't have my toppings. Fine, bring a different pizza. Thirty minutes later, my new pizza arrived. I devoured it as we watched dinosaurs on "Jurrasic Park" devour people. Considering when that movie was made, the dinosaurs look shockingly good. Imagine what they could do with CGI today.

The silver lining to a bad day is that the next day is usually better. I wanted to hit to an internet cafe to try to update my anti-virus and read email. There were two options: do my shopping, then head to Inhassoro to hit the awesome internet cafe there; or hit the internet cafe here, get my shopping done, then take the chapa back to Mambone. Lucky for me, the internet cafe in Vil was open. Unluckily, the internet wasn't fast enough to update anti-virus. Either way, I was happy. I got everything else done and I was able to chat with some night-owl friends.

With a little time to kill before the chapa left, I got my shopping done. I needed to by big paper for Richie so he could give his exams. Then I dipped into the market to see if there was anything special and -- wait, what is that? Avocado?! Yes! Yes! Yes! Avocado season continues! Looks like we're doing Mexican food tonight.

The chapa ride to Mambone was largely uneventful. As more people piled in, the cobrador had the audacity to propose sitting five people. The other people in my row expressed their displeasure about this, but the cobrador was adamant. Then I did something I have barely done in this country: I spoke up. "I'm the biggest person in this chapa," -- which was true -- "there's no way a fifth person is sitting back here". With that, we sat "comfortably" four to a row.

I had no wait time at the river, which was fortunate considering I was the only person there. Once I arrived on the other side, the river was so low and the shore so slick with mud that I couldn't get to the path that leads back to our house. I had to scale a small cliff just to get to another path. Awesome.

I was absolutely exhausted and hungry when I got back to the house around 3 o'clock. Richie had made extra food for lunch. I don't know if he planned on eating it later, but I didn't care. I was hungry, and when I see food, no one is going to stop me. When he came back from class, he wasn't sad to see his food again.

The food fest continued after a short respite. We went with full-on Mexican food: rice, salsa, beans (from a can), meat, tortillas, and of course guacamole! Following dinner, we watched a couple episodes of "Glee" before crashing.

After a good night's sleep, I took a look at what I had planned on teaching, and wasn't at all happy with my plans. The phrasal verbs that I wanted to teach today not only had very narrow usage, but also didn't have good Portuguese equivalents. My gut said that this would be a disaster of a lesson, so I decided to change it.

That decision proved to be brilliant once I got in the classroom. The kids did a pretty good job of picking up on the six phrasal verbs I give them. I shudder at the thought of what would have happened had I gone with my original lesson plan.

Following class, I realized it was time to get back on the workout train. Having been gone the whole weekend, I didn't have the chance to work out. I know that the longer I put it off, the more difficult it is to get back into. After the workout, I was outside drinking my protein shake when one of our colleagues called me over. He needed help solving a math problem. I knew how to solve it but for some reason, I kept getting stuck. Finally, after a couple of minutes, it hit me and I had the answer. Victory.

For the first time in a while, we had shrimp for dinner. I don't know if shrimp are officially out of season, but we haven't seen them for a while. And it seems that we didn't get nearly as much as we have in the past. Regardless, we were happy to have shrimp because if we didn't have them, we would have eaten couvi, a meal we generally struggle through, then regret after. Thrown in with some pasta, it made for a tasty meal. After eating, we sat back for a couple of episodes of "Glee". Before falling asleep, I then started on another mammoth book, Dave Eggers' "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius". RIchie gave it a not-so-positive review. I figure it can't be worse than "All the King's Men".

I woke up Wednesday morning to the sound of my phone ringing, ready for another day of English theater practice. As usual, I showed up right at 8:30. I don't know why I even bother when I know everyone else is going to be late. We know the 40-minute rule applies to just about everything here. Whenever something is scheduled for a certain time, add 40 minutes to it, and that will be the actually start time. This worked almost perfectly today. We got started at 9:08, 38 minutes after our scheduled start time.

Practice lasted for about 90 minutes. Most of the kids are doing a really good job. Seven out of eight of them have their lines memorized, but one girl is still bumbling along. I'm hoping she gets it together in the next couple weeks. Aside from that little issue, the play seems to be coming along. If they can speak loudly, I believe they have a chance to win.

Wednesday proved to be a very busy day. I'm giving the first midterm of this trimester on Friday, and it wasn't going to write itself. Of the thirty phrasal verbs I have taught these first few weeks, almost all of them will appear on the exam. This is a test of study skills. If they reviewed their notes for maybe thirty minutes, they'll do just fine. If not, it's going to be a bloodbath. This will also be the first time that I'll be giving the students a "bubble sheet" to fill out. I figure it's better to have them practice now than go into the National Exam cold. The only problem with the bubble sheet is that it will be remarkably easy to cheat. In the end, it will be their funeral: I'll be giving four different forms of the test. Looking at a neighbor's sheet will certainly lead to failure.

I was slated to teach the last two periods of the afternoon, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't have to wait that long. I think that I have taught early almost every Wednesday. There was no reason to believe that I would have to wait until 4:00 today. My assumption was proved right around 3:00. Two students came by asking for me to come in to teach. Absolutely. Class I guess went okay. I asked my students if they did their difficult (and rarely given) homework assignment of writing two sentences. Three students did it. Looks like they'll be getting extra credit on the midterm.

While I was in class, a pot of beans sat on the stove. We wanted a delicious meal tonight. After all, there was cause for celebration. With this day in the past, we have only one more full month in Mozambique. Of course, we still have twenty-nine days this month and twenty-three in November, buy ya know, we take our victories when we can get them. The beans were delicious, and to top it off, we made some chocolate cake. While the cake sat in the oven, we watched "Grown Ups", a film with a whole bunch of funny people. I bought it in Vil, thinking it would be okay. After we watched it, we agreed that it probably went straight to DVD.

After such a productive Wednesday, I had a shockingly quiet Thursday morning. I didn't have any preparation for class to do. I didn't have any exams to write. So I sat around reading an old magazine in the morning.

It was nice to have that bit of down time because the afternoon would be a little busier. I went into class first period of the afternoon to give my lesson. The students were relieved to hear that this lesson wouldn't be on the exam. It wouldn't be particulary fair to them. I gave the same lesson as yesterday, including a small bit on how to fill out their answer sheet.

I was on the receiving end of some good fortune late in the afternoon. Somebody was working on the energy in the school, which allowed me to print and photocopy my exams in the afternoon instead of at night. While I was in the office, I handed over a copy of the answer sheet to the school director and left a copy on the computer. Now all of the teachers can wreak havoc on their students with long, boring multiple choice exams.

Our evening was slightly depressing. We have come to the end of the season of "Glee". We watched thirteen episodes in four days. Very sad. At least we know that the next time we see glee, we'll be in America. After dinner and "Glee", I continued on the newest book. It has a huge introduction, which I finally got through. Maybe this weekend, I'll get to start on the actual book.

Friday was a busy day all around. As I've come to expect, English theater practice started late. Still, I went in at 8:30. I can always hope. One of the students had to go the hospital before practice, which made things interesting. My counterpart went to Beira yesterday -- why, I don't know -- so I was on my own with the students. Someone had to fill in for the student, so ended up reading his lines. I think all the students, especially the girls, got really timid when we had scenes together. It was pretty funny.

I managed to get a workout in before cooking lunch. I'm in for a busy afternoon, so I knew working out then wouldn't be possible. Following lunch, it was off to the classroom.

This was an interesting test, for a lot of reasons. First, the content is not the easiest stuff in the world. Still, no one came to my house to ask questions about the content, so I'm under the assumption that they basically understand. Second, as mentioned early, it's the first time that they'll be using an answer sheet for a multiple choice exam. And third, I'm going to be very lax when it comes to controlling this exam. I don't care if a student looks at his or her neighbor's paper because the exams are different. I really feel sorry for the poor saps who depend on their neighbors for answers. It's going to be a rough exam for them.

I wanted to get the exams corrected as soon as possible. With an answer sheet, it shouldn't take so long. I was wrong. Painfully wrong. The students did miserably. There were plenty of students who received less than 25 percent low even by Mozambican education standards. And yet, the test was fair. Two students received 18 out of 20. It's pretty clear who studied.

I got through the first class and had to stop. It was just too depressing. In the first class, 22 percent passed the exam, and the average score was failing. I cringed thinking about how bad it would have been had those two students not received 18.

There was only one thing that could get me out of this depression: scotch. After dinner, Richie, another colleague and I headed out to the villa to do some drinking. Some colleagues were already there when we arrived. I bought the bottle of scotch and we got to work. In two hours, the thing was gone and my head was spinning badly. At least I wasn't thinking about the exam anymore.

I woke up Saturday morning feeeling miserable, as expected. There was more than just a hangover though. My head and neck were invaded by mosquitoes last night. I guess that's what I get for passing out on my floor for a couple hours.

Even though I was far from 100%, I still had some responsibilities to take care of on Saturday. I had an English theater meeting at 8:30, which naturally started at 9. I had the kids practice outside today. They need to start using louder voices. And as a bonus, it felt a lot better to be outside than trapped in a tiny classroom.

Once practice ended, it was right back to bed until 12:30. Finally, I felt like I had recovered. Richie decided to go with potato pancakes to fill our empty stomachs and I could not have agreed more with that decision. After lunch, the rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet. I read a bit of an "Economist" and caught up on some real news, but other than that, I can't say we did much.

Late in the afternoon, we sent Sozinho to the market to buy beef. We knew this was a gamble. If there was no beef in the market, we'd have to pull out something magical for dinner. Of course, there was no beef today. So we opened our last can of turkey and made stirfry. With no more episodes of "Glee" to watch, we watched a movie called "She's Out of Your League". It was okay. We had higher expectations, but it came up well short.

Story of my week.

A late night and a lot of work done appears to be the ticket for getting a good, uninterrupted sleep. Six solid hours of English theater work yesterday knocked me out but good, but I woke up Sunday morning refreshed and ready to have a relaxing day. Once Richie rolled out of his room, we finished watching "The Blind Side", one of the better films we've watched here.

We had the movie finished by 9:00, and that's just about when I realized that we were in dire need of a market run. Things here have become a little more active on Sundays. Now that energy has been fairly well established, shop-owners have realized that Sunday is just another day to make money.

All said, it was a very quiet day in Machanga. After all that work yesterday, I was happy to have a day to sit back, relax and read old "Newsweek" magazines. Most of the afternoon was spent between the patio and bed, reading "news" about the oil spill or Supreme Court nominations.

Richie made another run to the market in the afternoon. He went to take care of our dinner problem by buying meat. He appeared to have purchased a decent cut; there was no major fighting with it, a welcome surprise. I decided to cook it Mozambican/Sozinho style, in the tomato broth. Everything tasted just fine, but the meat was tough. Our high hopes were dashed in a single rubbery bite. Richie went to bed right after dinner. I stayed up to read for a little while longer before crashing.

The end of my weekend on Monday was shockingly productive, even though I did very little. Late in the morning, I made a run to the market to stock up on potatoes, onions, and eggs. Lunch quickly followed the market run.

After eating, I was sitting around for a bit reading when a colleague came by with some computer problems. He had typed up a physics exam for his students -- impressive since he's only had his computer for a couple months -- but needed to add some little graphs. These, admittedly, are tough. They do require a fairly intimate understanding of Word. He explained what he wanted and I threw them into his document in just a couple minutes.

Richie came back from his afternoon classes and both of us just sort of shook our heads. For a while now, Sozinho has been pissing us off. At first it was little things, but now we are simply annoyed. After washing dishes, he's not drying them off or putting anything back. I can't tell you how many times some of my food has tasted like dish soap. Today's action, or lack thereof, is what finally broke us. We put our laundry out on Saturday to be done. He blew it off yesterday and today, and since Richie was out of clean clothes, this created a bit of a problem. We decided he needed a talking-to.

It wasn't long before it was dinner - just a Newsweek or two away. I went over to our neighbor's house to pull out the remaining meat from his fridge. We made a stir-fry, which had the same problem as yesterday's meal. Once we finished, we decided it was time to talk to Sozinho. I calmly outlined exactly what we wanted everyday. Even though I was careful not to be an asshole about it, Sozinho still walked away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

I guess we could register it as a victory because right after that talk, he washed, dried, and arranged the dishes, then quietly left. In his absence, we watched a couple episodes of "How I Met Your Mother" before going to sleep.

Tuesday meant getting back to work, for everyone. Sozinho was over earlier than usual to sweep and mop because he had a busy day ahead of him. The longer he waited to wash clothes, the bigger the pile grew. The washing took up most of his morning.

I had my own things to do in the morning. I was prepared to cook beans tonight, which meant sorting and soaking. It's amazing how many little twigs, how many rocks, and how much dirt gets into a sack of beans. What's more amazing is that we haven't cracked any of our teeth on said rocks. After cleaning the beans, I went to the bigger project of my room. I rearranged some things, swept the floors and hands-down/ass-up Mozambican-style mopped the room.

Around lunch time, a very strange thing happened (and I don't mean our laundry being done): the skies gently split open and drizzled all over our clothing. Wonderful -- I guess our clothes won't be completely dry by the end of the afternoon. This bit of rain also thwarted my lunch efforts because we couldn't put the charcoal outside to get going. After a while, and a lot of fanning, the fire finally got going.

Full from lunch, I went over to school to give my classes for the day. Today's set of phrasal verbs were verbs with "give" and "drop". For the most part, these phrasal verbs are straight-forward. A couple of them, like drop out, required a little extra explanation, but the kids seemed to get it. I walked around class, checking on the students' work, when I saw that a couple smartasses had written a perfect and perfectly true sentence: "Mr. Lee does not give away points on the ACS (the midterm)". That is beautiful. Maybe it was just the first day that was especially difficult.

Riding a bit of a high after class and with some time on my hands, I decided to get a workout in. I figure that I'm never going to be this thin again and I've lost a ton of muscle in my time here. This is as good a time as ever to put it back on. Forty-five minutes later, I was sweaty, tired and in need of a shower and shave. I relit the charcoal from earlier, heated some water for my shower, then threw the beans on the stove to cook.

While the beans finished cooking, my parents called. A lot of the discussion centered around how quickly my time here is coming to an end. It's very funny how these conversations have changed over the course of almost two years. For a while, it was about planning their trip out here. Then, after their trip, we couldn't stop talking about the trip. And now, with less than 100 days to go, the conversation is about coming home. Crazy.

The beans came out wonderfully -- cooked thoroughly and the texture of the sauce was perfect. With our bellies full, we finished up season five of "How I Met Your Mother". There may be one more season that's already out, but I'm not sure. Still, it was cool to hear them drop "Avatar" into one of the scripts -- not because I'm a fan of the movie (haven't seen it actually) but because it came out while we were here, so it can't be that old.

Wednesday started with the sound of my alarm, a truly dreadful sound. I had to go to English around 8:30. The kids have had a couple days to read through the script. My counterpart had hoped that they would have the lines already memorized. I thought that was a little ambitious, but not entirely impossible. The day with the kids proved to be a lot more stressful than I had anticipated. At least three kids of the eight kids misunderstood their parts and went about changing line assignments. Frustrating? You bet, especially since they don't fully understand what the script says. Aside from having copies for everyone, one of the reasons I wantd to type up the script was to work out all of the kinks. In one fell swoop, these kids threw a couple wrenches into the machinery. After an hour, we finally had everything straightened out. So much for this day being productive.

My afternoon started out productive. I filled out some paperwork for Peace Corps, an always fun activity. At least I could do it with a smile on my face knowing that it would be the last set of paper work I'd have to complete. I also worked out and showered before going over to class. Even after showering, I still felt filthy. I understood why this time. The well that we usually use has been busted, so Sozinho has been using a different well. When I looked in the buckets, there was a distubing smog-colored tint. I'm supposed to use this water to get clean.

Neither of us had much luck in the afternoon. My class dealt with phrasal verbs with "cut". I can't honestly say that this class was as successful as the classes from last week. At least I made it through my class. Richie had four classes this afternoon. The first time, it tanked. The second time, it tanked and he realized it was worthless. So he just canceled the other two classes. "This shit's not important anyway". Ah, the advantage to teaching a non-National Exam year. There's only one solution to make a day like this better: cake. It's been a long time since we've had cake. After dinner, we busted out a box of Betty Crocker and had us some chocolate cake. It was as delicious as we remembered. We also started watching "Law Abiding Citizen", until my computer decided it wasn't going to work. Nice. It'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Richie had a pair of classes Thursday morning, but once he returned, we jumped back into the movie. It was everything we enjoy in a non-comedy, and by that, I mean lots of death. After a magazine or two, it was time to cook lunch.

I had the first class of the afternoon, a repeat of yesterday's class. This class was a little more cooperative in acting out some of the examples and as such, the class went much smoother than yesterday. Or maybe this class is just that much smarter than the other class. I came back from class feeling better than yesterday. No cake would be necessary today.

In the middle of the afternoon, a got an unexpected text message: a friend with whom I went to Ghana and who is now in Cameroon as a Volunteer, sent me an email. Even though we are on opposite sides of the continent, it seems like things are pretty much the same there. Same school issues, same gripes with the people in charge. He has one big advantage though -- he's in a biggish city, one that has restaurants. The coolest thing is one of those restaurants serves viper. Am I jealous? Absolutely.

It was every man for himself for dinner tonight. Richie didn't have any brilliant ideas when it came to dinner. All he was willing to do was eliminate rice, spaghetti, and xima as potential bases. Well, that's seventy-five percent of what's available. I was fine with rice, so I cooked up some stirfry. Richie did potatoes with something, and I think Sozinho just ate bread. Whatever. Richie, who is heading to Vil tomorrow, went to bed early. I stayed up replying to my buddy in Cameroon and reading a bit more of "All the King's Men" before crashing.

Richie was up and at it at 5 o'clock. I was up, but certainly not at it. I had to be up at 8:15 for English theater practice, and I'll be damned if I'm going to be on my feet a minute before. When the alarm finally went off, I felt refreshed and ready to go.

Friday's English theater practice could not have been more different than Wednesday's disaster. A couple of the kids had already memorized their lines. Things were looking good...until we timed the play. It turned out to be fourteen minutes, two minutes more than we have been allowed. A second over twelve minutes means disqualification. If these kids could just speak a little faster, know their lines a little better, then I thought it could be under twelve minutes. The second time they read through it was 11:22. Third time was 10:55. Satisfied with their work, my counterpart and I dismissed the students for the day.

I made myself some lunch before heading to school, hopeful that I could combine my classes again. For at least the second week in a row, the school director wasn't around, which meant I was free to join my classes together. Success! Today's lesson was on phrasal verbs with "go". There are so many phrasal verbs with "go" that teaching all of them, even over multiple lessons, would be impossible. I chose eight good ones and went from there. The results were pretty good. One kid wrote "I will go on to university and find a girlfriend because Machanga does not have good girls". Gotta love these kids sometimes.

I celebrated the end of the week with a brief nap before starting the charcoal for beans. I was resigned to eating something boring tonight, but Sozinho wanted to have beans, which I'm always happy to eat. With Richie gone, my only entertainment was the last chapter of "All the King's Men". Mercifully, this book came to an end. I'll give credit where credit is due: the last two chapters were better than the rest of book. That said, those chapters don't make up for the rest of the book.

For one reason or another, I could not fall asleep for the life of me. I almost popped a Benadryl to knock me out, but finally, around 1 in the morning, I finally fell asleep.

I've had plenty of good days in Mozambique and I've had a few really good days. But in almost two years here, I can't say that I've had a perfect day in Mozambique. Until Saturday. I was up and moving at 6:30, packed my backpack, and hit the the road at exactly 7:00. I walked to the river, where plenty of people of people were waiting to head to Mambone. Because of this, I had no wait time at the river. The twenty thirty minutes of waiting in Mambone was the only time I wasn't on the move. The chapa ride from Mambone to Maluvane was painfully slow. I knew ten minutes into that ride that I wouldn't be breaking 3 hours and 56 minutes.

Even so, I couldn't complain. We were at least moving. Once I got to Maluvane, things started going really well. I jumped into the back of a truck heading toward Vilanculos. The sun beat down pretty hard, but I was happy to work on my tan a bit. When we got toward Vilanculos, I offered to pay, but the driver wouldn't take my money. Awesome! One short truck ride later, and I was in Vilanculos, just breaking the 5-hour mark.

I had a significant-sized list of things to accomplish in Vilanculos and I wanted to get them all done in the afternoon. First, I took some cloth up to my tailor to have a shirt made, which will be ready tomorrow. I stopped next store to arrange my delicious dinner plans. With that done, I dropped off my things at the Vil girls' house so I wouldn't have to carry around all my stuff while I shopped.

Today's mission in the market was huge. With Sozinho's 900 Meticais, I was on the hunt for clothes for his baptism. I knew this would be a challenge when I found out that one store sold shoes for 600 Mets. That's okay -- I'm always up for a challenge at the market. I may be the exception to the rule in that I love going to the market to negotiate. I feel like I'm going into battle, with stubbornness as my best weapon. The first part was easy. I got the shirt, tie, and pants for 430. I didn't even bother to negotiate -- I knew the prices were reasonable.

I hoped, given the price I saw earlier, that I'd have just enough for shoes and the belt. That's when the battle royale began. I told the guy that I needed black leather shoes in size 42 (European, of course). He presented me a beautiful pair of shoes that cost 850 Mets. That's just a wee bit out of budget, but that wasn't going to stop me. I said that the price was too much, and he immediately sliced the price to 600. I told him I'd pay 350. The price came down to 500, but I wouldn't budge. It dropped to 450, then 400. I thought about paying 400. I got my fifty percent. But I decided to push it. Finally, he said 380. I considered it for a moment and then agreed. "This guy, he knows his money". Yes. Yes I do. Finally, I went on the hunt for a decent belt. The first one I found was 95 Mets. It was nice enough and I didn't want to negotiate anymore.

After all my purchases were made, I totaled everything up: 905. That doesn't count as being overbudget. That's a rounding error. Satisfied with my work, and hungry, I treated myself to a delicious cheeseburger.

The rest of the day, went absolutely beautifully. I ran over to the other side of town to some food shopping. I didn't find everything I wanted, but found something I wasn't expecting, so that was a bonus. By the time I got back to the house, it was already late afternoon. I hung out with the girls for a bit before heading over to Muhammad's for dinner. Even though he raised the price by 50 Meticais, it was still delicious and worth it.

So there it was: the perfect day in Mozambique. A heavily discounted ride, market domination, did all of my tasks, ate delicious food. I should just quit now. Something bad is bound to happen.

When I finally made it outside of the house Sunday morning, I saw the damage that I had done to the broomstick -- destroyed in three major chunks with a bunch of little splinters strewn across the yard. I knew as soon as I saw it that it was almost salvageable. I considered super-gluing it, but realized that the first time someone would sweep, it would snap into, well, three major chunks. So I was left with the choice of buying a new broomstick or turning a thin tree branch into a new handle. Which option do you think I went with?

Of course I wasn't going to buy something that nature provides for free. It's a stick! The work wasn't that difficult: strip the branch of its bark, reduce the size on one end so the screw top would fit in, voila! New broom stick, just like that.

Normally, accomplishing a task like that would have earned me a nap, but there was much to do today. I tried to make a market run immediately afternoon. I went to buy bread, but the man who runs the bread place told me that fresh bread would be arriving in a couple hours. Fresh Mambone bread makes everyone happy, so I decided to wait. I also tried to beef in the market, but the cow hadn't been killed yet. The guy working at the butchery told me it would be killed at 4:00, which meant 5:30, so that meant no beef tonight.

Going out for two items and failing on both fronts is disappointing. A nap would certainly have resolved it, but there was more to do. I needed to get a workout in, and a workout meant a shower. Just as I was about to jump in the shower, Richie walked up to the house, exhausted from his week in Beira. He was fairly satisfied with the Science Fair in Beira and rightfully tired.

I eventually got my shower, which brought me right up to about 4:00. Time to check on bread. I don't know why I went at 4:00. That's when he told me it would be there, so why the hell would I go then. Naturally, the store was closed. I returned home and started charcoal for beans. I know, we had beans just two nights ago, but Sozinho wanted them and I'm always happy to eat.

Just as the beans were finishing, I went back to the bread place and, finally, they had bread. The wait was worth it: the bread was so soft. I came back home with nine rolls and started cooking the rice. Just about that time, Richie woke up from his nap and looked like death. He was still in bed and clearly hungry, so I threw him some bread like a SeaWorld employee throws fish to Shamu.

With the rice finished, we sat down for dinner. It was clear from the onset that Richie wasn't going to be eating much. I knew that I would be finishing his food, and it would be the vast majority of his plate. I killed off mine before he finished a quarter of his, and that's when he gave up. I knew it wasn't the beans -- they got a rave review from Sozinho -- he just wasn't hungry. Good thing I was. He went t bed and I finished his food, making me feel sick. How American.

I spent part of Monday morning trudging through another miserable chapter of "All the King's Men". It's a wonder to me how this book won a Pulitzer Prize. The entire 60-something page chapter was, thus far, completely irrelevant. I asked Richie if it came into play later in the book and he said not really. This is why literature drives me crazy.

Late in the morning, I was back on tech duty. Our photocopier-owning colleague wanted me to try to repair his copier. I've had some good luck with it prior to this, but this problem was way beyond me. I knew it was beyond my capabilities when I looked in the manual, saw the error message, and the proper course of action: call assistance. Well, that settles that. Of course, I tried to fix it, but it was not cooperating with me.

While I was in the villa, I went over to the butcher's store to buy some beef. When I showed up, all he had to say was "You came late". What? The American in me wanted to say "Uh, no, it is you who decided to kill this cow 12 hours after you said you were going to do. I was right on time, thank you very much." But that wouldn't fly, so I just said "Yea, I know". There was still some decent beef left and I wasn't going to pass it up.

This afternoon was my last day off, so I soaked it in. I spent a little more time reading "All the King's Men". I'm hoping for a decent ending because that is the only thing that can salvage this book. I ran through my now regular afternoon workout and showered shortly after. And late in the afternoon, we ran over to the villa to make some purchases -- most importantly another 10-kilo sack of rice.

Upon our return, we started cooking dinner. I wanted to learn how to cook beef the way Sozinho cooks it, except I wanted to improve it. He has not learned that glory that is seasoning. It's a pretty basic stew. It could probably use even more seasoning, but for tonight it was pretty good. After dining, we finally got back into "How I Met Your Mother". It's been a long time. Way too long. We watched two episodes before calling it a night.

Tuesday was the official start of our English Theater preparation. In the name of sustainability, I'm really hoping to pass this project off to a colleague. It's not that I don't want to do it. I'm happy to run the project, but there is going to be a day when there won't be a Peace Corps Volunteer in Machanga. It would be a shame to have a project like that go to waste. Luckily, my colleague is pretty geeked about the project. His students seem equally excited. We can bring only eight people this year, and one of them is definitely going to one of my twelfth graders. So that left seven spots for the twenty kids from tenth and eleventh grade who tried out. They ran the gamut from wonderful to miserable. By the time we got through it, we had narrowed down the list from twenty to ten.

Listening to those kids read a paragraph as a tryout took almost ninety minutes. I had but a little time between finishing the first day of English Theater and preparing for lunch.

And then after lunch, it began. School. It turns out that about half of my students have returned from holidays. Apparently, four weeks wasn't enough for some people. Those who didn't show up today were spared the first lesson of phrasal verbs. I knew this series of lessons was going to suck; I just didn't know how much. Today, I only gave four phrasal verbs, all using the verb "break": break up, break down, break in, break out. They should have known the verb "break", but when I asked, all I got were blank stares. Oh, yes, it's going to be a fun eight weeks.

The only good news that came out of the class was that it used up the entire time. It's truly amazing: teaching four verbs required 45 minutes. It's going to be like this all trimester. The rest of the afternoon, I spent trying to finish a chapter of "All the King's Men", but every time I started reading, I realized how much it sucked. Still, I'm going to power through it. I've come too far not to finish it.

I was in charge of dinner tonight. We had a little meat left over to use for stir fry. I chopped up some pineapple to sweeten it up a bit. It, along with the rice, cooked way too slowly. All said, we had the stove on for about two hours. We finally ate around 8:00, and followed our food with a pair of episodes of "How I Met Your Mother". Richie, having a 7:00 class, went right to bed. I, on the other hand, continued in the book, eventually giving up around 10:30.

The nighttime weather has been very strange the last couple of days. When we go to bed, the weather is absolutely perfect, but by 3 or 4 o'clock, it's absolutely freezing. I've been waking up shivering. And today was no different. Around 3:30, I was up, looking for sweatpants and a sweatshirt. It took a little while to warm up, but I eventually fell asleep for a couple more hours.

I lazed around in bed for a little while, finishing the seventh chapter of "All the King's Men". I can't wait to be done with this book. No matter what I read after will be better than this. Having finished the chapter, I got up and welcomed the day.

It was a particularly slow day, and I knew it would be with my only class being at 4 in the afternoon. There was some talk of school being canceled today because the the provincial government party leader came down to Machanga. At least two big truckloads of students went to greet him. It looked promising for a while, but the school bells kept ringing, so we assumed school was in.

And yet, school wasn't really happening. The students were around but a lot of teachers had to go to the meeting with the government official. The teachers' absences gave me an opening. Around 2 o'clock, a couple of my students came by to ask if I could give class early. I would love to.

After yesterday's disaster, I didn't high hopes. Today's lesson was more of the same -- phrasal verbs, this time with "fall". For some reason, this lesson clicked a lot more today. Maybe it's because so many of the phrasal verbs with "fall" actually involve falling. Whatever it was, the students were writing better sentences today, and when I asked if it was easier today, they gave me a resounding "Muito!"

With class over for the day around 3:30, I came back home to try to resolve a computer problem for a colleague. He had this really strange problem: his computer was plugged in but it wasn't charging. I did some research on the problem and as usual, there were many reasons for the problem. I tried a couple of them, but none of them worked. There wasn't a lot more I could do except tell him that he could still use his computer, but it would have to be plugged in.

The rest of the afternoon was slow for everyone. Late in the day, Richie and I started watching some episodes of "How I Met Your Mother". This led right into dinner. Sozinho cooked up couvi, a leafy green. If it's prepared right, it can be good, but Sozinho doesn't know how to cook. Even after I seasoned it, it was still bland. And by the time I found my way into bed, it wasn't settling well.

Following another 3 AM wake-up to warm up, I slept in late, lost in dreams, until I realized that I had an English Theater meeting at 9. Thank goodness for Mozambican sense of time. I showed up at 9:15 and only half of the students had arrived. By 9:30, the rest of the people were there and we were ready to get going.

The meeting last for about 90 minutes and was shockingly productive. We put together a basic plan of how the play is going to run and who will perform what rolls. There will be another meeting tomorrow to begin writing and hopefully we start reading through the play by Saturday.

I returned from the meeting right around the time we start preparing for lunch. Richie didn't want to do potatoes and eggs, complaining of their price. I don't really see why today was different than any of the other 600 days we've had potatoes and eggs, but whatever. I was happy to make my own omelet and he could figure out what he wanted later.

I had class during the first period of the day today, far more convenient than the last class of the day. I was teaching the same lesson as yesterday, but to another group of kids. Even though I was giving the same lesson, these kids just did not get it as easily. Or maybe they were just more willing to say that they weren't getting it. Either way, I tried to explain "fall down" three times and even then, they could not understand. Undeterred, I made myself fall down, dirtying myself, but it got the message across. The kids looked stunned when I fell to the ground; I don't think there is another teacher in this school that would go to that length to explain something. When I asked them "Claro?", they came back with "Claro!" Nice.

Upon returning from class, I jumped online to check email and read news. One of the stories that popped up was about twenty-somethings. I thought, "Hey, that's about me!" And after a read it, I realized, wow, it really is about me. I won't go into all the details, but it explained how there is this middle phase between adolescence and adulthood. It made mention of how many people in their twenties return home after school to live with their parents (see: future me, post-Mozambique) and how we are in this period of huge uncertainty but unlimited opportunities. I can't say I disagree with what was said.

Richie wasn't home when I came back from class, but when he returned, he came with a package in hand. Hello, beautiful. I think this is the last package I'll be getting here. Then end really is almost here. This package was full of essentials -- mac and cheese, some cans of turkey, but most importantly, it had oodles of magazines. We didn't even bother to wait until they were all out of the box. Almost immediately, we both had magazines in hand.

The night was pretty timid. After dinner, we powered through a couple episodes of "How I Met Your Mother". Richie turned in for the night and I curled up in bed with an ESPN magazine.

I woke up on Friday fifteen minutes before a scheduled English theater meeting, which is more than enough time for me to get my teeth brushed, get myself dressed, and get out of the house. I showed up to the classroom exactly at 8:30. No one was there naturally, so I waited. Within fifteen minutes, everyone else had arrived. Lovely. I'll consider that early for them.

The other English teachers and I were really hoping that we could have the script written by the end of the day. It became quickly apparent, however, that there was no way this would happen. I tried to follow last year's successful formula -- break them into small groups to write scenes -- but something wasn't coming across well. Yes, they had figured out the story, but there was no dialogue. An hour and a half later, we were no closer to having a script than we were at the beginning of the day. I guess we'll just have to try again tomorrow.

The failures from the morning didn't bleed over into the afternoon. In fact, the afternoon could easily be called a huge success. I went into school hoping to combine my classes. I knew that the school director wasn't around, which helped my cause -- not because he wouldn't permit it, but because he is supposed to teach a class before mine. When I went over, the kids were all waiting outside and confirmed that they wouldn't be having class. Beautiful.

After class, I came home with a list of things to do. I needed a workout and, more than that, I really needed to shave. Of course, my nine-month old goatee wouldn't be leaving (sorry, Sach), but everything else needed to go. And I had a new toy to help me out with this. Enclosed in the package my mom sent were a bunch of Gillette Fusion razors. I thought five-bladed razors were mythological things, like unicorns or dragons or Mozambican timeliness. I had heard of these things, but never actually had one. I was skeptical. Seriously - five blades. My head and face get plenty smooth with my Mach 3's. Of course, this was a huge step up, given my current use of disposable two-blade razors. But at the end of the day, my head wasn't any smoother. It was like upgrading from a Mustang to a Corvette. I'm still going really fast. Regardless, I was happy to have a clean-shaven dome again.

As usual, it was a quiet evening here. We had beans for dinner, watched some "How I Met Your Mother", and read a bit of "Newsweek" before heading to sleep.

The difference between yesterday's English theater session and today's was night and day. For the most part, the kids showed up on time and they figured out that they needed to use dialogue. The story started to come together. Roles became more defined. Put simply, things got done. It took nearly four hours and a bit of poking and prodding, but by 12:30, we had a script, typed and ready for editing.

Following a quick lunch break, I jumped write back into the script. If I'm that close to having something complete, there's no way I'm going to put it off until later. I cleaned up some lines, made the thing a bit more readable, and added some stage instruction. It was 4:00 by the time I finished all of that. As we had hoped, we we're good to print during the evening.

For all this success, I rewarded myself with a beer run with Richie. We walked over to the villa, had our beers, and returned in time for dinner. For the first time, the three of us had three different dinners. Sozinho wanted to eat couvi again. I wanted no part of that. Richie was eating these tiny fish that looked like anchovies. I'm still new to fish, but I'm definitely not doing anything that looks like an anchovy, especially with the heads and tails still on there.

So I went to spaghetti, as usual. While my pasta cooked, I ran over to the office to print out the play script for all of the students. The timing worked out perfectly -- as soon as I was done in the office, the pasta was ready to come off the stove. After eating, Richie and I started watching "The Blind Side". We only got half-way through it before one of my best friends from home called. Even so, two things could definitely be determined: 1) Sandra Bullock is smokin'; and 2) it's very easy to see why she won an Oscar for her role in this. I guess we'll finish it tomorrow, when a new week starts.

With our Close of Service conference behind us, all we had to do was, well, close our service. We may only have a couple more months left, but there is still plenty to be done. Richie will be out for most of the week preparing for Science Fair in Beira. In the meantime, I'm holding down the fort, keeping things in order here.

In theory, our last trimester here begins tomorrow, but we know better than that. In practice, students will begin walking back to school today, maybe arriving tomorrow, but in all likelihood, they won't be here until Tuesday or Wednesday. School won't really start until next week, which is all fine and good. If I don't have school to keep me busy, I'll find other things to occupy my time.

And there was no shortage of things to keep me busy on Sunday. There were two small pieces of electrical work that needed to be done in the house. The simpler of the two tasks was getting a new light bulb for my room. The more difficult was adding a plug to the electric wire I have going out to the patio. Until now, the wire has been going directly into the outlet. This situation was just begging for an electrocution of massive proportion. With a piece I purchased in Vilanculos, I fixed up the wire so it would be electrocution-proof.

My third task for the day involved my beleaguered pan handle. The third time was apparently not the charm for my whittled handiwork. Leave it to Sozinho, the person we so endearingly call "The Ruiner", to ruin my work. He didn't realize that since the handle was made from wood, he probably shouldn't put it directly over an open fire. Sometimes, I just have to wonder what goes on in that mind of his. I put on a new handle and Sozinho-proofed it by wrapping most of it in aluminum foil.

The last of my jobs today was to hand out a laptop to one of the teachers here. I would have done it early, but the computer needed an adapter. What good would a laptop be if you couldn't recharge it? I showed him the basics -- turning on, turning off, opening a document -- and told him to come by tomorrow a quick typing lesson. He had been anxious to receive a computer, so when it finally happened, he was very happy.

For all that hard work, I think I deserved a good dinner. Sozinho got his hands on some gazela -- bushmeat -- and we Americanized it: cut up some veggies, through some cheese on it, and made gazela sandwiches. The meat was as lean as any beef we've had, so we were pretty content. Making the night even better, we began the fifth season of "How I Met Your Mother". I don't know how many seasons there are, but we're happy that we're catching up.

Richie was right back on the road Monday morning, leaving me alone for the week. But even though he was gone, it's really hard to be alone here. People here are always coming by. The first two people came by around 8:30. They came strapped with their computers, eager for a quick typing lesson. If they can figure out how to touch-type, they'll be miles ahead of me because, despite my almost twenty years of working on a computer, I still cannot properly touch-type, and I don't think I'll be learning how any time soon. It was a little frustrating at first for them, using their hands and minds in a way that they never have, but I think they'll pick it up pretty quickly. If Mozambicans can do one thing well, it's memorization; they'll be able to put that skill to use in remembering where they keys are.

Late in the morning, I made a run to the market to buy some rice. Sozinho, naturally, plowed through all the rice we had while we were gone. I'm done buying things in bulk, because Richie and I are both sure that he gives away our food when we're gone. No normal human being can eat that much food in so little time. It's just another example of the Mozambican/African mentality discussed in the book I read a couple weeks ago. We buy things in bulk because it's convenient, because we don't want to walk to the market every day. But when Sozinho sees that we have ten kilos of rice, he thinks it gives him permission to distribute that rice as he sees fit. And that drives us crazy. He costs enough as it is.

After lunch, I started reading "The Kite Runner". Yea, I know, I'm a couple years behind on getting to this book, but better late than never. I've heard nothing but good things about it, and the first hundred or so pages certainly have lived up to expectations. Given the lack of work this week, I'm sure this book will not make it to the end of the week.

There was one last computer to be distributed after lunch. Well, at least until we leave. It looks like Richie and I are both going to leave our computers behind. Though still functional, they are not in particularly good shape. They'll be put to good use here. At least they will last long enough for someone to save up enough money for a new one. I went through the same basic lesson as I did yesterday and, once again, the recipient was elated.

I started preparing beans late in the afternoon. They had been soaking all day, meaning they should have taken less time to cook. Still, it took a solid two hours to get them cooked all the way through. They weren't the best beans I've ever cooked, but they were good enough. The saving grace was an avocado. That's right -- we managed to get our hands on a couple of avocados Vilanculos. Huge victory does not begin to describe that purchase. Avocado season should have been done a long time ago.

Following dinner, I was preparing for a night in bed with "The Kite Runner", when one of my colleagues asked me if I could go out for a couple drinks. Could I? Of course I can. The two teachers who received computers this week wanted to thank me with a couple beers. They couldn't think of a better way to thank me and, quite frankly, neither could I. We stayed out for a little bit. Strangely, I was the only one drinking beer. Everyone else was drinking Fanta. Odd. Didn't stop me from having a few before heading home.

Tuesday had the look and feel of winter. A sheet of grey clouds covered the sky, occasionally letting through pockets of bright blue. A strong wind made the trees lean to one side. It looked like it could rain at any moment. You could practically hear the dusty roads begging for some rain, but the clouds had nothing to offer.

The bells rang in school today, though I'm not really sure why. Students are still on their way back here, as are teachers for that matter. I asked Sozinho how many students were in his class today. He didn't even bother to verbalize it. He didn't have to: he just stuck a hand up with all fingers extended. Out of 55 students, literally a handful have shown up. It seems there's an unwritten contract between the teachers and students that says, "Let's push vacation on for one more week" and everyone is happy to comply. So be it.

Around 10:30, I decided it was time to work out again. I have been exceptionally lazy this year and it doesn't feel particularly good. I could feel it last week as we played ultimate frisbee in the sand. I was sore for the entire week after. The first workout after a long layoff always sucks, but I suspect the motivation will come easier after that first one.

After lunch, I kept myself busy with "The Kite Runner". My assumption that this book wouldn't last the week looked good. It was really a matter of whether it would survive the day. The only thing working against me was the lack of light. As the wind grew steady, the lights went out, leaving Machanga without electricity for the better part of the afternoon. Nobody stopped what they were doing. After all, this was the old normal. When the house became to dark to read, I lit a candle and read by candlelight.

Late in the afternoon, with the school generator pumping, I went over to the school to help one of the assistant directors in making a school form. The form he needed to make wasn't particularly difficult -- a header with a table below -- but he couldn't get the table to fit on the page. I tried to throw it in a header, but it wasn't really working. Finally, I just took out the margins and made the table fit. He asked me how I did it, so I showed him. I was about to show him how I did the table, but he interrupted me. "That part I know how to do." That's the kind of moment that can't be measured. It's a little thing that made my day. Then it only got better. "It's a lot more difficult in Microsoft 2007", he said. "In 2003, I could do it". I couldn't agree more. And couldn't stop laughing under my breath at the absurdity of it all. Last year, he didn't know how to turn on a computer. This year, he's griping about Microsoft Office 2007.

Finally, just after 6:00, the electricity came on for good. The timing was perfect. I cooked some rice, whipped up some guacamole and salsa and had some Mexican food. As the rice cooked, I finished "The Kite Runner". By the time I was finished with dinner, it was nearly bed time. I crawled into bed with a new book, "All the King's Men", and hoped that this one would last more than a day.

For the second day in a row, the electricity was not working as well as it should be. The wind has picked up a notch or two. We're not talking about a tropical breeze here. This was a seriously cold wind. And it was wreaking havoc with everything. It knocked out the electricity for most of the morning and kicked up a ton of dust. I overheard someone saying they "took refuge" in a shop for a little while to keep the dust from landing in their eyes. Everyone was decked out in their winter gear -- beanies, sweaters, pants -- except for our favorite two-year old, the famous "Bucket Girl", who was just fine running around with no pants on.

The school is still quiet. A couple more teachers have shown up and some have even tried to teach this week. I think the people who are trying are the ones who are new this year. They still haven't quite figured things out. But those of us who know what's up haven't even tried to teach. I figure as long as long as the school director and all of the assistant directors aren't teaching, I can't be accused of not doing my job.

I kept busy in the morning with a workout. I was sore all morning from yesterday's workout -- I guess I earned that for not exercising for months -- so I did some legwork. I'm sure I'll be sore again tomorrow, but hopefully my arms will have recovered.

After lunch, I snuck in a little nap. No commitments -- might as well sleep. I woke up hungry. Conveniently, I had half an avocado left over from last night. I mashed it up into guacamole and used it as a dip for bread. It hit the spot. How could it not?

I tried to do some more reading in "All the King's Men", but I'm having trouble getting into it. I should like it, being a political book and all. But unlike "The Kite Runner," the writing in this book is, I don't know, fluffy. It's very adjective-heavy, very repetitive. Oh, and the first chapter goes on for-fuckin-ever. No chapter in any book should last seventy-seven pages. Even biblical chapters don't last that long. I suffered through that chapter. I can only hope that the next chapters are shorter, but I have my doubts.

I was banking on eating spaghetti for dinner tonight. It's been a couple nights, so you know, I'm due. Sozinho wanted to eat rice and I figured that as long has he's cooking it, I might as well eat it. I pulled some chicken breast out of our friends freezer, defrosted it, and cooked it up on our stove. By the time we ate, it was already 8:00 or so. The rest of the night was quiet. I wrote out an email or two and went to sleep.

I woke up early Thursday morning to the ping-ping-ping of raindrops on our tin roof. It wasn't a heavy rainy-season rain, but still heavy enough as to not dissipate before hitting the ground. This rain wouldn't bring on any mud or fill our wells, but it will be good enough to water the lettuce and onions growing behind the houses. I looked at the clock and saw it was 5:45, laughed, and went right back to bed for a little while.

The morning was surprisingly busy. I caught up with a friend from home, then did a grocery run. Sozinho was out of the house preparing his potential science fair project, leaving me to go the market. That was fine by me -- I was happy to kill an hour or so. After the market run, I came back home for my workout. It's funny. I only took two days for me to crave that feeling again, the feeling that you need to work out. By the time I was done, it was lunch time already.

I ate my lunch and showered, with no big plans for the afternoon. One of our colleagues came over asking for information about the regional Science Fair in Beira. He'll be chaperoning the kids up to Beira, which shouldn't be too difficult. It's not going to cost him anything -- Science Fair will cover all the costs -- but in the meantime, I'm covering their food and transportation tomorrow, at a hit of 1800 Meticais, about thirty percent of my salary for the month. I'll have it back by Monday, so it's no big deal. Still, I think it pissed off Sozinho, knowing that I had that kind of cash, but am not willing to fork out for his baptism clothing. What he doesn't realize is that all that money has to last me through the month.

Late in the afternoon, two trucks rolled into the school, the big mack-type trucks that can carry fifty goats. In this case, though, the trucks weren't filled with goats but with students singing at the top of their lungs as they approached school. They've plotted their return perfectly -- show up late enough in the week that the teachers won't come to class for the remainder of the week. I still can't understand why anyone would be so excited to coming back here -- to Machanga, to school, to finding firewood so they can eat the same crappy food day in and day out. Whatever. I won't rain on their parade.

Whatever excitement existed in the school was non-existent in the teacher's bairro. My neighbor came over with his usual smile and "Boa Tarde" then told me that his brother died this morning. He said it like he was just reporting the news: it's windy and cold outside, the students have returned, and my brother died. He said that he had been "doente" -- sick -- which is kind of a code. If it were TB, he would have said TB. If it were malaria, he would have said malaria. But if it's AIDS, then he's "sick". I asked how old he was: forty. Another life ended early, even by Mozambican's standard for life expectancy.

That pretty much killed whatever good vibes I was feeling. In a lot of ways, we've become very accustomed to a lot of things. We're used to taking shitty chapas and power outages and nothing running on time. But I don't think I'll ever get used to someone telling me that their brother or cousin or daughter died because of a disease that was preventable, whether that disease be AIDS or malaria or diarrhea.

Uninspired, the night was nothing special: spaghetti and some more of "All the King's Men" before going to sleep.

The early part of Friday morning was filled with a colleague's first computer crisis. His battery had drained all the way to zero and wasn't charging. I thought he just left it on, killing it off. But when I plugged the computer in, it still wouldn't charge. Curious. I tried using a different battery and it still wouldn't charge. Even more curious. My last guess was the charger itself. Earlier in the year, I had given a non-functioning charger to another colleague; maybe this was the same one. I tried a different charger and it worked. Excellent -- problem solved.

The rest of the morning looked a lot like the mornings from the rest of the week. I ran over to the market to buy eggs, then to the other side of town to buy bread. When I got back, it was already time to cook.

I kept myself busy after lunch plotting out what these last few months will look like, both in terms of school and personal life. I drew out a little calendar, which was a shockingly visual way of how little time we have left here. We have only two complete months left -- amazing. On the travel side, I'm going to be a road a lot these last few months. Bank runs, English Theater, and good-bye parties will have us running between Chimoio, Vilanculos, and Machanga.

This last school trimester is going to be an interesting one. Taking out this week, there are only eight full weeks of school between next Monday and October 12th -- Teacher's Day, the unofficial end of the school year. I have a feeling it's going to be a confusing trimester. I'm going to be spending a lot of time on phrasal verbs. Students here are used to translating sentences word for word. With phrasal verbs, that won't work. It's going to take some getting used to; thankfully, we have eight weeks.

Mcel went down again sometime during the afternoon. I'm hoping this is just a day problem instead of a weeks long problem like last time. After repairing the network faster than expected, I'm trying to think positive

Once I finished planning, I started cooking dinner. The beans had been soaking in water all day, so they only needed about ninety minutes to cook. My beans got the approval of Sozinho, a rare occasion. I guess when I really want to, I can cook up Mozambican beans as well as any Mozambican. I spent the rest of the night getting through chapter two of "All the King's Men". As I thought, the chapters aren't getting any shorter. This second one was ninety pages. Craziness.

I lazed around Saturday morning for a good while. I kept on with the book, making it half way through chapter three before rolling out of bed. Once up and at it, I continued planning out this last trimester. I tried to decide the best the way to teach phrasal verbs -- by root verb or meaning, -- eventually deciding to keep all phrasal verbs with the same root together. For example, in one lesson, students will learn phrasal verbs with break: break in, break up, break out, break down, break something down, and so on.

Sozinho took care of cooking lunch, then found his way to Mambone for the afternoon. I stuck around the house, getting in a workout after lunch. I was on call for tech duty in the afternoon. The photocopier owned by one of the teachers hasn't been working and he wanted me to repair it. Little did I know that the copier was the least of his problems. The computer that I just gave him wasn't charging or turning on. Gotta love Dell products. The rest of my afternoon was spent trying to solve this problem.

I did a little online research, plugging in the "symptoms", and found out that the problem this computer had confused even the best fix-it geeks on the web. Some people said to take out RAM chips, others said to press F7 sand F8 together while turning the computer on, others said to pop the hard drive in and out. I tried all of these things and failed.

So I went to Plan B -- or C or D, depending on if all those "solutions" were separate plan. I had another computer just like the one he got, except the screen was completely shattered. I knew that it turned on okay, but was unusable. I jumped back onto Google -- seriously, what did we do before Google? -- and learned how to replace the monitor on this type of Dell. Once I had that, the fix was easy -- six screws out, pull a cable, six screws in. Just like that, I had a fully functional computer.

I rewarded myself by completely doing in the busted monitor. I took our broom stick and decided to beat the living hell out of the already broken screen. On the third thwack, the broom stick busted in three pieces. Lame. It's okay -- I felt better.

All that work pushed dinner back until 8:30. That's how committed I was to working this problem out. I ate my dinner, finished chapter three of "All the King's Men" and went to sleep.

I was out cold when, around midnight, I received a text message. It was from hours before, but it finally came through. Mcel was back up. I didn't even bother reading it – it will be there in morning. I rolled over and went back to sleep for good.

We know that we're close to the end, and this week only confirmed what we already knew. The fifty-two remaining Moz 13 Volunteers convened in Inhassoro this week for our Close of Service conference. The conference had two main purposes: to give the Volunteers one last time to see everyone together; and to give us some information about our transition from Peace Corps life to normal American life.

On the second front, the conference was fairly successful. Over the course of three days in Inhassoro, we discussed resume writing, how to talk about our service, jobs and grad school, and how to leave our sites as smoothly as possible. Time was also spent describing all of the things we have to do in Mozambique before we actually leave, like closing out bank accounts, wrapping up projects, and making sure that we are healthy before leaving. A lot of the discussion was common-sense stuff, but it was still informative.

As for the first purpose conference, I have mixed thoughts. On the one hand, it was really nice to see some people who I don't normally see. There are some people, especially in the north of the country, that I would not have seen otherwise had we not had this conference. On the other hand, there were a lot of people that I could have gone without seeing and it wouldn't have made much difference to me. There are plenty of people with whom I didn't talk much during training or any other conference over the two years. And the people with whom I'm closest -- like the people in Vilanculos or some of the Volunteers in the Central region of the country -- I'll be seeing at least one or two more times before leaving.

So on the whole, it was a week of conflicting feelings. This was goodbye, but not really. This was our Close of Service conference, but we're still here for three or four more months.

Outside of the conference, things were actually pretty exciting for me. I got my hands on the book "The Blind Side", which was turned into a movie this past year. The book was written well, though it tailed off the end. I found some information about U2's tour dates for next summer. It's not a matter of whether I see them: it's a matter of how many times and where. Most exciting for me, though, was I had the opportunity to download Arcade Fire's new album. This was a rare moment where I got something here on its release date instead of months afterward.

Finally, Mcel made its valiant return to service and, as such, I have switched back to my regular number. For those of you who have been out of touch, I'm sorry if you've tried to be in touch the last couple weeks. It's always a little concerning when we lose contact, but everything is okay and back to normal now. If it's been a while, I look forward to catching up with you.

By Sunday morning, just about everybody had found there way out of the school. The whole town, for that matter, was shockingly quiet. There wasn't much music blaring, no school bells ringing, no kids screaming at the top of their lungs in spite of their proximity to each other. We would make our way out soon enough too. There were some things to be done around the house before we could enjoy our last vacation here.

For one, we needed our laundry done. I can't speak for Richie, but I'm going to be gone for at least ten days, and I was running low on clean clothing. Sozinho did his work at a reasonable hour this morning, which was a welcome change from last week's disaster. I had my own clothing work to do. I came here with two pairs of jeans and each have taken a beating. It's gotten to the point that I'm now using one pair of jeans as a junkyard in an effort to salvage the other pair. The saveable pair had a Texas-sized hole in one of the knees. I cut out a slightly bigger square from the other pair and sewed it in. The way Sozinho abuses our clothes when he washes them, I'm sure they won't hold up for that long.

That little project took up most of my morning. Richie, in the meantime, went to the villa to pick up some food items for the day. He then decided that we were going to eliminate as much food as possible today. We had so many potato pancakes between us that we both felt pretty sick after finishing. Richie noted that usually our stomachs hurt from feeling hungry. This was a rare moment when we hurt from being too full.

After lunch, I went about cleaning my room. I don't mean just a casual picking up of things. This was a full on scrubbing. There are few things worse than coming home to a filthy room. I organized my things, threw out a ton of unnecessary stuff, swept and mopped. The worst part is by the time I come back from my trip, it will be blanketed in dust again. At least there won't be that much cleaning to do.

We continued our demolition of food in our house at dinner. We knocked off the last couple of chicken breasts that we bought last month in Vilanculos. Fake chicken parmesan has moved very high on the list, quite possibly to the top, of our favorite dinners. With the extra tomato sauce we made a couple Mambone bread pizzas. If nothing else, this day was a culinary victory.

Our nightly entertainment consisted of "Burn After Reading". It was a strange and strangely funny film. We both particularly enjoyed Brad Pitt's role as a gym trainer half his age. His roll was only made better when he was shot in the head by George Clooney. We did not see that coming. Within seconds of the film ending, my parents called. We talked for a little bit before I drifted off to sleep.

Richie and I were up and at it around 6:00, ready for the travel battle ahead on Monday. We left the house around 6:30 and made our way to Mambone. The day started well. We didn't have any wait time at the river or in Mambone. That was the end of our luck. The car we got to Maluvane was a pick-up drunk. Richie and I eventually made it, along with seventeen other people. Even this far into my time here, I'm still shocked at how many people can fit into the back of a truck.

I'm shocked even more by how much of that shit people are willing to tolerate. We didn't have to wait long for the next truck at Maluvane. As we waited, more and more people piled into the truck. We were packed in like goats. And as we went down the road, more people yet piled in. Fifteen minutes into the ride, Richie and I had had enough. We got out of the car and told the driver that we didn't want to die today. Another fifteen minutes passed before we got another truck, which actually was packed with goats. It was heading to the crossroads just outside of Vilanculos, the price was less than it should have been, and we felt considerably safer, so we were content with our decision to abandon the other car.

We arrived in town and fell into our normal routine. Or so we thought. As we made our way over to our regular backpackers place, a very enthusiastic Canadian told us that we should go to another place. We weren't completely convinced, until she told us that for just twenty-five more Meticais than we would have paid, we got our own room instead of a dorm and breakfast was included. I think breakfast was the main selling point. We said "what the hell" and gave it a shot.

After dropping our bags at our new place, we did all the things we usually do in Vilanculos. Our first stop was pizza. It's the first time we've had real pizza since coming down for World Cup at the beginning of June, and yes, it was just as good as we remember it. Then the great shopping fest began. We killed off a good thousand Meticais in just under an hour. And there would be more to do later. I failed to find a couple things, as did Richie. We remembered our credo "if at first you don't succeed, give up" and went back to the hotel to relax until dinner.

Dinner was way beyond our expectations. For a mere hundred Meticais, we got plate after plate of rice, chicken, beans and seafood (which I passed off to Richie). It wasn't just the quantity that did it: the quality was pretty good too. I thought I was full last night, but tonight outdid it by a landslide.

I woke up Tuesday morning still full from dinner, a truly amazing feeling. That set up a wonderfully lazy day. I went over to our regular backpackers place because the have hammocks, looking forward to a lovely day of reading "The Three Musketeers". Within thirty minutes, I was lulled to sleep, only to be awakened by a text message from Richie a couple hours later.

There was much to do in the afternoon. A had to get a shirt altered by my tailor. A couple months ago, we made me a couple shirts. I told him cut them a little big, figuring that I would fill them out when I returned to America. He clearly did not hear me say "a little" because I could fit a second me into the shirt. While he worked on the shirt, Richie and I had some business to take care of in town.

Richie was on the hunt for flashlight light bulbs for a student's science fair project. I was looking for power adapters for a couple teachers. A laptop is pretty worthless if it can't be recharged. After failing in three places yesterday, I succeeded at the first store today. That's when the fun began. The price the salesman told me was almost double what it was three months ago. I understand that the value of the Metical keeps slipping, but it's not falling that fast. This isn't Zimbabwe, where currency devalues so quickly, it has an expiration date. So I considered this price the opening salvo in a war and I was not going to lose. The man wanted 120 Mets for an adapter. I returned with an offer of 200 for three of them. He dropped his price, bit by bit, but I stuck with my offer. He finally agreed. And after the exchange of money for goods was made, he had the audacity to ask for more money. I laughed in his face and walked away. Point: Muzungu.

Year 2 - Week 33: The March of Times

That was the first of two wins on this day. The other item that we bought had a set price, but it's still a huge win for us. We purchased an electric kettle. It may seem crazy that we're buying new items with just over 100 days left to go here, but this is a worthwhile luxury. Instead of lighting up carvao or putting a kettle on our stove for ten or fifteen minutes, we can plug in our kettle and have two liters of boiling water in less than five minutes. Yes, it cost 350 Meticais, but we boil water often enough that we'll make up that money in our energy bill quite quickly. And it will be a nice thing for the next Volunteers in our house to have.

With the successful day in the market behind us, I chilled at our hotel and read "The Three Musketeers". It's not as good as "The Count of Monte Cristo", but it's still a pretty smooth read. By the end of the afternoon, I had finished about forty percent of it. I should have it knocked out in the next couple days.

Instead of sticking with good, cheap food at our hotel, we met up with some other Volunteers at a different restaurant. The food at this other place was slightly cheaper, but not nearly as good. I guess the company made up for the loss in quality. We got a ride back to the hotel from some people who had dinner with us, had a nightcap, and went to bed.

Or at least we tried. There was so much noise throughout the night that we struggled to get any sleep. Regardless, we had planned to leave anyway on Wednesday. Richie decided to head back home for a couple days before heading back to Inhassoro. I decided to stick around Vil, but save some money by staying around with a Volunteer here.

My decision to do so looked better and better by the minute. The father and sister of a Volunteer here are visiting and they brought all the same goodies my family brought in December, except more recent. They brought a hard drive full of music and a glorious bounty of magazines. There were three month's worth of Time magazines, including one from -- no joke -- July 26th. I did a double-take when I saw the date. News that was actually news? Unheard of. That was enough reason for me to stay. I spent the afternoon engrossed.

Having bypassed lunch, I decided to indulge on dinner. I went out with another Volunteer and her family. I had no issue paying -- I fully expected to, quite honestly. But then I rolled out the booze. The Volunteer's father and I split a bottle of rum. Three-quarters of the way throught the bottle, the waiter told us that we had to pay a "corkage" of 175 Meticais on my fifty Met bottle of rum. I argued my way out of that one. Another point for me. And when we knocked out that bottle, the double Captain and Cokes started coming. By the end of the night, my food and drink was covered - and the father and I were tanked.

Considering I only got four hours of sleep, I was feeling pretty good on Thursday. I was definitely not hung over, although I can't say the same for my drinking partner. He claimed to be fine when he walked out around 8 in the morning, but he promptly found his way to sleep for another couple hours.

The whole day was pretty lazy. Though I didn't go back to sleep, or even nap later in the afternoon, I did spend most of the day horizontal with a couple of Time magazines. I can't say that many of the stories stuck. I was going through the magazines so quickly that the material usually left as soon as I read it. But three articles that really stood out to me were an article on adopting Russian children; one on the fiftieth anniversary of The Pill; and the new tech-savvy generation of poker players.

In the dead heat of the afternoon, I made a run to the supermarket - yes, the supermarket - to buy some dinner. One of the Volunteers and I decided we were going to do spaghetti and meatballs. I know, spaghetti is old and boring, but meatballs are a new adventure here and I might as well take advantage of the opportunity to buy ground beef.

Just after getting back, one of the Vil Volunteers and her family decided that they were going to have pizza for dinner. They invited me along. Telling them "no, I'm committing to making spaghetti and meatballs" like a thousand stabs to the stomach. Turning down pizza for spaghetti. It makes me sick thinking about it.

When another Volunteer from close to Xai Xai came into town, us non-pizza eaters got started on dinner. We diced, chopped, boiled and baked our way to a pretty tasty dinner. The deliciousness of the meatballs helped me get past the lack of pizza. After eating, the three of us watched "Invictus". Richie and I started watching this movie a couple months ago, but the DVD we bought in Vil cut off short of the first hour. It was lovely to see the second half of the movie. Morgan Freeman did an incredible job as Mandela.

Friday would be my last day in Vilanculos. I made a couple of calls to arrange my weekend stay in Inhassoro. It was time to leave. The only thing really keeping me in Vil was the pile of Time magazines. I made myself anti-social and read for most of the morning and into the early afternoon. In three days, I think I made my way through nine Time magazines cover to cover.

By mid-afternoon, I was starting to get antsy. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one. While I was reading, other people in the house were watching "Glee" and "How I Met Your Mother". I think we all reached our breaking point around the same time. I proposed that we play Phase 10, a pretty good card game that can take up a lot of time. The game went long enough that we didn't finish it by the dinner time.

We took the cards to dinner with us and still did not finish before our food came out. The father of the Vil Volunteer treated us to burgers, which was very kind. This little restaurant opened up literally across the street from their school. Talk about convenience. And the burger was pretty tasty - definitely better than the burgers that Richie and I get on the other side of town.

Everybody was on the move Saturday morning. One of the Vil Volunteers is training for a marathon, so she went out for a three hour run. The other girl and her family were going out to the islands for snorkeling. And I was on my way to Inhassoro. I picked up some cash - always an interesting event - before heading out. People here seriously struggle to use ATMs here. I think it's a combination of the technology and a lack of Portuguese vocabulary. I had four people in front of me. In America, I would have waited, I don't know, ten minutes at most. I waited twenty-five minutes before I got to the machine. It was frustrating, sure, but I was in no rush to get to Inhassoro.

Even so, I was still in Inhassoro by 10 o'clock. The chapa that I got in never filled up completely and only stopped twice along the way. This was my kind of chapa. The Volunteer with whom I was staying wasn't at home, so I went across the street to the high-speed internet cafe to update my anti-virus, check my email, and catch up on the sports world. By 11, the Volunteer still wasn't back, so I read some "Three Musketeers" until she arrived.

She was as hungry as I when she arrived, so we headed to the market to forage for food. We bought some items for dinner and went to a little restaurant for egg sandwiches. By coincidence, the Portuguese people who came to Machanga a couple weeks ago were in Inhassoro as well. They sat with us for a little bit before we made our way back to the Volunteer's house.

The rest of the afternoon was calm. Someone came over asking for help writing a grant. The Volunteer helped this kid write it out while I messed around on the computer and read a book. By the time she was done with him, it was dinner time. It would be yet another spaghetti night. It's a good thing I like spaghetti. A third Volunteer came over with a bottle of wine. We ate, drank, and were merry, happy to be done with another week in Mozambique.

Now that school is over for the trimester – for us, anyway – our days here have become slower than usual. We are somewhat pinned by the timing of an upcoming conference. If we leave now, there's no real sense in coming back to Machanga until the next trimester starts, but we'll blow through a ton of money. If we stay, then we sit here like idiots. We went with the latter. No school, no traveling, very little to do and – to top it off – no phone network. Mcel, the biggest phone network in the country was down, and not just for us. Apparently, it went down for a good chunk of the country. Curious.

A complete lack of talking wasn't merely limited to a phone network. We have pissed off Sozinho to the point that he chose not to talk to us for the entire day. A few weeks ago, he made a request of us to buy him white pants and a white shirt for his baptism. We told him that it was the responsibility of his godfather to buy such clothing and that he should talk to his godfather. A couple days ago, he told Richie that the the price of white cloth was 70 Meticais per meter. Richie answered with a cold and non-committing “okay”. I, however, was a little more blunt.

Sozinho approached me and told me the same information: 70 Mets for a meter of cloth. Knowing that he had not spoken to his godfather and that he had already told Richie, I became the bearer of bad news. “We're not buying them. It's your godfather's responsibility to buy your clothes for your baptism. Go talk to him.” He walked off with a smirk. The cracking of that little sarcastic smile was the last we heard from him for the rest of the day.

The quiet in the house provide me the opportunity to finish up a book that was eerily related to the incident above. The book was “African Friends and Money Matters”. This book outlines some of the economic habits of Africans. I'm always somewhat skeptical of books or people that try to throw Africa under one umbrella. In a continent of hundreds of millions of people, hundreds of tribes, ethnic groups and languages, and more than four dozen countries, declaring anything universally African is tough. I firmly believed this – until I read this book.

Most of the author's research, stories, and examples come from Senegal, with a smattering from Liberia, Ivory Coast, and Cameroon. For some perspective on how far Mozambique is from Senegal, consider this: excluding the Indian Ocean island nations (Madagascar, Comoros, Mauritius, and Seychelles) the capital city furthest from Senegal's capital of Dakar is Maputo. And yet, almost every observation made in this book frustratingly applied here. Some of them – not having loans paid back, watching food purchased in bulk rapidly “disappear”, people taking our bike without asking – I've experienced myself. Most of the lessons, I've learned the hard way.

I nearly got through the book before dinner. Sozinho cooked couvi – a leafy green that he almost knows how to prepare well. I added a couple of spices and made it a little more tolerable. After watching a couple episodes of “Spartacus”, we retired to our rooms. Richie, I'm assuming, fell asleep. I stayed up a little more to finish the book.

Monday was the beginning of our third straight day without a functioning phone network. Everybody is waiting for the flood of backed-up text messages to roll in. Sozinho smoothly moved into day two of his silence spell, only to be broken by asking for money to pay for exams. He made the not talking a lot easier by lazing in bed until 11:00. Right now, this kid is more useless to us than our phone network.

In the meantime, I had a busy morning. One of our colleagues asked if I could hook in some new light bulbs, to which I of course obliged. I asked him he had turned the energy off. He said yes, and I trusted him. That was a bad decision. Zap! Something clearly was not understood. The electrical shock actually punctured the skin of my thumb, leaving a hole about the diameter of a fork tine. Yes, the light was turned off, but the electricity in the house was not. Brilliant. I shut down all the electricity in the house, taking no chances, and went about my work.

Another colleague reminded me that I had promised to put up a closet for him. I promised him months ago, but had completely forgotten. Not a problem. While Richie prepped for lunch, I went over to his house, pounded some nails into his concrete house and the job was done.

Following lunch, I glued myself to a book, “The Unforgiving Minute”. A close friend of mine sent it a couple months ago, and I had failed to this point to pick it up. It's a memoir – so it's up my alley – about an Army Ranger in Afghanistan. For someone in the Peace Corps, I like war a lot. I don't like so much the actual fighting or some of the pathetic justifications, but I love reading about all the technology and weapons systems used in war. To this point, the book has largely been about the author's education at West Point and then Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar. If nothing else, the book has given great insight into life as a cadet. It's a life I certainly would not want to lead, but you can't help but admire the people who go through it.

Richie and I ran to the market late in the afternoon. He has a lot of documents to print over the next couple of days, so his main purpose for the market run was to buy paper. Richie's downward spiral began when he tried to pay twenty-three Meticais for a thirty sheets of paper, even though each sheet only costs half a Met. From there, things only got worse for him. Since Mcel has gone down, Richie has bought some phone credit for Vodacom, the competing network here. Instead of buying a new SIM card, he's been using Sozinho's card. Earlier in the day, he put forty Mets of credit onto his card. When we came back, it was all gone. We figured this would happen, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.

There was only one way to make our day better: cheese. Options abound, but we decided to go with fake chicken parmesan and spaghetti. It didn't bring back Richie's phone credit or completely alleviate his frustration, but it did make the evening a little more tolerable. The rest of the evening ran the same as last night. Richie went to bed, and I curled up with a book for a couple hours before sleeping

Tuesday picked up exactly where Monday left off: with one of us pissed off at Sozinho. I woke up – or rather, I was awakened – seven minutes before 5 o'clock. I hate waking up to the echo of Sozinho's voice from talking on the telephone in our bathroom. He thinks it minimizes the sound, but it doesn't help at all. I would rather wake up to the sound of a rooster than Sozinho's voice. I gave him a quick, bleary-eyed reprimanding: “I can hear every word. I already told you not to do this.” That pretty much marked the end of him talking to me for the day.

After a couple more hours of vivid dreams, I got back into the “The Unforgiving Minute”. While Sozinho washed dishes, in complete silence next to me, I read on the patio. I had expected Sozinho to be washing our clothing, seeing as we put it by the door last night. Our expectations of him, however, are rarely matched by reality.

Following lunch, with nothing to do, Richie and I realized that Tuesday afternoon was a perfectly reasonable time to get tanked. We headed over to the villa around 2:30 and commenced. Four hours and sixteen American-sized beers later, we were ready to go home for food. We cooked the easiest and fastest meal we could whip up – stir fry.

The rest of the evening was pretty standard. We had three episodes of “Spartacus” remaining. We really wanted to get through the remainder of the season. But after two episodes, we were both exhausted and I had a splitting headache. Sleep was the solution.

I woke up Wednesday morning without a hangover, which was a welcome surprise. This prompted Richie to propose us downing a bottle of scotch in the afternoon, to which I politely rejected. I think he was just as happy to hear my “no” answer.

Wednesday marked the fifth consecutive day that we have not had phone service. This is the longest stretch we've endured and, quite frankly, we're fuckin sick of it. Madinha had told us that it was nationwide, but she's full of shit. Maputo, Nampula, and Beira all have network. This, as far as know, is a Machanga-Mambone problem, and it's pissing us off.

By the time we got out of bed, Sozinho had already finished the laundry. He stayed up into the early hours of the morning washing instead of doing it at a regular human hour. We're done trying to understand this kid.

Most of the day was pretty slow. I made a run to the market to pick up some standard items – potatoes, garlic, toothpaste – so I can feel good about having done something. The rest of the morning, I continued in “The Unforgiving Minute”, right up until lunch.

I didn't wait long to start on dinner after finishing lunch. With the charcoal we had remaining from lunch, I lit a full stove's worth and started cooking beans. In the three hours they took, I finished my book. It was very good, well-written and fast-moving. I'd have to find something new for the rest of the week.

We ate our beans quickly and turned to the season finale of “Spartacus”. We figured that a whole bunch of people would die; this was only confirmed with an episode title of “Kill Them All”. We didn't expect everyone to die. That was one awesome episode of blood and death. We finished the episode around 8:00 and Richie was already done for the night. I stayed up for another hour or so before going to sleep.

Nobody was working on Thursday morning. I didn't hear a single school bell go off, even though school is supposed to continue through the week. Mcel wasn't working either. Day six without phone network has prompted us to buy our own Vodacom cards. We'll turn back to Mcel when it comes back, but it could be a while. We heard this morning that the there is a problem with the fiber optic cable that runs near Inhambane. There was a similar problem in the north last month, leaving them without Mcel for about a month. That's what we're preparing for now.

Also of note this week is that the temperature is starting to turn. We had a very light drizzle earlier in the week, but that was an anomaly. The days are getting hotter and hotter while the nights remain cool. The heat isn't intolerable yet, so we are soaking in these last few weeks. We know it won't be long until we'll only be sleeping with a sheet.

Considering that we're not actually “working”, I still had a fairly productive morning. I did some minor repairs around the house. Over the course of our time here, we've made some minor alterations to the house, resulting in no shortage of nail holes in our concrete house. I started to fill some of the bigger holes with twigs, a fairly effective method for filling in concrete bricks. At least it's a lot cleaner than filling them with concrete.

Richie and I were invited to a party in the afternoon, which meant it wouldn't be starting until well into the evening. Regardless, we went over to Madinha's to begin the festivities. We downed a couple beers as we watched Madinha and all the women in the family cook up a storm. Chicken after chicken was thrown onto a grill, multiple freshly killed goats were stewing on a couple fires, and the biggest pot I've ever seen was filled with an entire 25 kilo sack of rice. It reminded of a witch's cauldron. I'm pretty sure that I could balled up my body to fit inside it.

Around 7:30, we went over to the house where the party was to be held. We were celebrating the fiftieth birthday of a lady we've never met. Wherever you are, fifty is a number worth celebrating. In a country where the average life expectancy at birth is about forty, fifty deserves a huge party. The party was a surprise party, although I don't know how surprised she was. Nobody really hid. A bright moon did not help our cause. Either way, she was happy to be with her entire family and a lot of friends. We were happy because we got free dinner and beer. We stayed until around midnight before stumbling home

Before going to sleep, I told Sozinho that I wanted him to go over to Madinha's house at 5:30 in the morning. South African Greg, our long lost buddy, needed some stuff from our house and he was planning to cross the river at 6:00. In spite of my drunkenness, I made it clear that I wanted him to do this. So you can understand my frustration when I rolled out of bed to see him still asleep. I sarcastically asked him if he went, to which he said “I will”. Wrong answer. He would be in for a morning of hurt.

After talking my parents – the first time in a while because of this little phone network issue – I started ordering around Sozinho like a general. First he had to buy bread. Then wash our dishes. And finally, he had to go to Mambone to pay our energy bill and drop off the stuff for Greg. If nothing else, it meant we didn't have to see him all morning, which is a victory in itself.

The best part of the whole morning happened when Sozinho left. As he was on his way to Mambone, Greg came over with his son to pick up the package himself. I couldn't help but laugh. It's the first time he'd seen our house. He immediately noted that we lived much better than the former Volunteers in Mambone. True that.

Greg and his wife pushed back their departure time to the afternoon, so Greg stuck around a while. We eventually made our way over to the market to say goodbye. While we were there, Richie paid down a small debt and we bought potatoes. Just another exciting afternoon in Machanga.

The rest of the afternoon was quiet. I read for a little bit, cleaned up some of the electrical wiring around the house, did nothing in particular for a while. At some point, a math teacher from another school here came over for help with some problems. The problems were a little complex, but I walked him through it slow enough so he could understand.

As afternoon turned into evening, I became tired very quickly. After eating dinner, we put on “District 9”, a movie about aliens in Johannesburg. About thirty minutes into the movie, I couldn't keep my eyes open. By 8 o'clock, I was in bed, down for the count.

The exodus began early on Saturday. At least that is our assumption. A huge group of students were even louder than usual, probably excited to not be in Machanga for two or three weeks. They got out early before the sun came up, able to walk a good chuck of the day before the temperature rose.

For us, it just became all the more quiet. Some teachers had also made their way our of town, leaving very few behind. Those who stayed decided to celebrate the end of the trimester by drinking at 9 o'clock. I wasn't up for that. Plus I had a little project of my own. The handle on one of our pans broke off months ago, leaving a nearly unusable pan. I've tried to repair it twice before, but failed both times. Today, I thought a bit outside of the box and managed to whittle a functioning handle. Success!

Having done my job for the day, I could now start drinking. Richie started with the group at around 9. I jumped in around 11. A group of six of us knocked out a case pretty quickly. After a lunch break, the plan was to head out to the villa to the continue – all afternoon and well into the evening. I was tired as it was and knew if I had to be up all night, I would need a nap. I crawled into bed at 3:30 and was out cold by 3:31.

I woke up refreshed at 5 to head to the villa. I tried to play catch-up, but it's tough to make up for an hour and a half of lost time without some serious hard liquor. We stayed for a couple quiet hours, returning home briefly for dinner. Food in our bellies and slightly sobered up, we headed back out. It should have been a huge drinking night, but nobody really showed up. By 10:00, Richie was burnt out and I was over it. Clearly, no one got the message that it was supposed to be a drinking night.

Can we blame the network for that too?

Anticipation was the word of the day on Sunday. Everybody was anxious for the grand finale of the World Cup. But being in the same time zone as the game, we would have to wait until 8:30 at night to enjoy the game.

Aside from the beating drums and chanting voices coming from the church, Sunday morning was very quiet. The energy was out for a fair portion of the morning, meaning we didn't have to hear the pounding bass of Akon songs. It was a good environment for reading. I buried myself into the “Best American Non-required Reading” anthology. Last year's edition was so good, so I had high expectations for this year's. The stories started a little slow, but they've picked up. This collection of stories has confirmed what I already knew: given the choice between fiction and non-fiction, I will always take non-fiction.

The stories kept my mind occupied for the better part of the morning. I read right up until lunch. Following lunch, one of our best friends here wanted some help typing an exam. Since distributing the computers, this has been a request I've heard very few times, which is certainly a good thing. Teachers are starting to become more and more comfortable doing it themselves, which is exactly what should happen. This exam was a piece of cake. There was nothing fancy, like graphs or fractions. The pain in the ass, being a French exam, was all the accents. The other minor obstacle was that our friend insisted on reading the exam to me. If this were Portuguese, it would have been fine. But not even the French can spell French words, so I just read along with him.

When the energy came on in the school, we went over to the school to print his exam. I also had some business to take care of in the director's office. I needed my exam photocopied for my students and the students at the secondary school. I was prepared to let my friend photocopy his first. My exam was slated for Tuesday and his for Monday, so it only seemed fair to me that he should have the first crack at it. He didn't have money to make copies though.

We must pay to make copies, even on school business, which for the most part is okay by me. I had griped about this earlier in the year, but things have actually changed a bit. On the padre's insistence, the school dropped the price from five Meticais to two, making things far easier on the students. I still feel bad about making them pay, so I pay for the midterms and have them pay for the finals. Other teachers have them pay for every exam. The way they do this, though, is interesting to me. They have the students collect the money, then pay for the copies. I, on the other hand, front the money and have the students pay me later. I think the teachers don't trust the students to pay them later. By my count, I lost a whole ten Meticais on this exam. If I can afford that hit, anyone here can afford it.

Richie and Sozinho ate fish for dinner, leaving me alone to eat spaghetti. I really didn't want to make tomato sauce for the hundredth time. It's getting a bit old. So I went a different route: pesto sauce. It's the second time I've tried to make pesto and this time was far superior. Cashews and Parmesan cheese make a huge difference. And it's so easy to make. I never have reason to by pesto sauce again.

Around 8:00, Richie and I headed over to the house with the good television. We were far from the only ones. More and more people started to pack into the house before the game started. The temperature in the house rose noticeable. Ten minutes before the game, we were packed into the house like sardines when someone had a brilliant idea: move the television outside.

A good thirty of us Spain and Holland play under the moonless sky. There are no shortage of adjectives to describe this game, but the two that stand out to me are rough and boring. Thank goodness that the people on television keep track of the yellow cards, because I lost count. Both of these teams were so good in the middle that they canceled each other out for the most part. The good chances were few and far between, but the good chances were really good. The goaltenders were the show-stoppers, in every sense of the word. It took extra time, but finally, thankfully, with four minutes left in extra time, Spain hit the back of the net. I was thrilled, not so much for the Spanish victory – I didn't care either way: I was just happy that the game didn't go to penalties. To me, ending a game in a shootout is like determining a baseball game with a home run derby or a basketball game with a three-point competition. I say play to the death. Tonight, we were lucky that we got a winner before penalties.

There seemed to be a bit of let down here on Monday following the World Cup. Even though Machanga is not all that close to South Africa, the sense that something big had ended was palpable. Nobody was really talking football anymore. The games were over. Spain had won and that was that. It was a great tournament. There was a lot of doubt about whether South Africa could pull it off, but they really did a phenomenal job.

I had a little bit of work to take care of Monday morning. A history teacher asked me to type up an exam for him. I was a little surprised because the exam only had five questions. That's the kind of exam you write on the blackboard or on giant paper. Whatever. Not my exam, not my students, not my money, not my problem. After finishing that ten minutes of work, I went right back into “Best American” until lunch.

Today was the unofficial beginning of final exams week. Finals week is scheduled for next week, but next week is when teachers will be returning exams and calculating grades. If they would get on this Excel train with me, they could cut down their work by a whole lot. Then again, there's not a whole lot to do in Machanga, so maybe the enjoy the mind-numbing activity of calculating averages.

I had some serious cleaning to do in the afternoon. I've been on the negligent side with my room this past week. I'm sure my parents aren't shocked by this, but the truth is I have to keep my room here clean. There's so little space here that every square foot is precious. Besides cleaning my room, I had to clean up myself. I was in dire need of a haircut and shave. The goatee I've been growing the entire year stayed (sorry, Sach), but everything else was nice and tidy. I felt a lot better afterward.

For the first time in a month, we didn't have a soccer game to fall back on for entertainment. After dinner, we watched “Changeling”, which was pretty good. The movie came up in the one of the stories in “Best American”, so we thought it was worth of a shot. The movie was well done. It's hard to go wrong with Clint Eastwood.

Tuesday was the big day for students of the muzungus. Richie's students began taking exams yesterday and continued this morning. It would be interesting to see how these kids do relative to yesterday's. Richie's students have a tendency to give each other the answers in between classes, but Richie, being crafty, changed some of the questions. He roped me into controlling one of his classes and to my surprise, they were actually quite good. I only had to move one kid during the test and everyone finished well before the end of the class, meaning there wasn't any cheating at the last moment, when kids normally scramble to get their papers in.

Richie dutifully started correcting papers as soon as he got home. The results showed that an exchange of information was made overnight. The kids from Monday passed at an 85% clip; the kids from today passed at a 33% rate. It's not like his questions were difficult. The kids were just lazy. They'll figure it out eventually. Maybe. Hopefully.

I finished up the “Best American” stories before lunch. It seemed like the best stories were in the back, which I found a little odd. Someone with less time than me might have given up on it.

After lunch, it was my turn to give exams. For the first time, I decided to give the exams to both classes at the same time. There would be no exchange of information, as tends to happen even with my students. Since I proctored for Richie, he proctored for me. I warned him about which students to keep an eye on, and as if on cue, he had to move one of them. Otherwise, the test went very smoothly, from my point of view anyway.

The students' feelings of the test were to be determined. Walking out, a lot of the students felt like they did okay. No one felt they did great, no one felt that the test was overwhelming. I got right to it and saw for myself. The first class was, well, dominated. Thirty-three percent passed the exam, the average score being under fifty percent. I couldn't handle doing the second class right away.

Both of us frustrated, Richie and I walked to the villa to get a soda. Since the weather turned cold, our trips to the market for a soda have been drastically reduced. We don't feel swallowed by dehydration and we've generally slept better these months. It's why we love winter here. This market run was just to clear our heads.

While at the market, we were able to buy some bell pepper, a truly vital ingredient to both our food and our happiness. Dinner followed shortly after our market run. I cooked up a pretty tasty stir fry. I used enough soy sauce to make the house smell like a Benihana. It didn't taste as good, but it was good enough. Exhausted from a frustrating day of exams, we called it a night shortly after dinner.

I woke up Wednesday slightly hopeful and pragmatic. I hoped that the other class would do better tha the first one. I figured that they couldn't do much worse. More importantly, this second group was the languages group. In theory, they should dominate the science kids, but the science group has proved me wrong time and time again. While I figured that they couldn't do much worse, I also figured that they couldn't do much better. In the end, they split the difference: the science kids had a slightly higher but not statistically relevant average score, but the letters kids had a slightly higher but passing rate. All said, the classes were even.

How well the students did depends on the scale by which they and I choose to measure. During the school year, the kids need ten out of twenty marks to pass a test or a class. By that scale, a nuclear bomb would have done less damage than this exam did. Overall, a whopping 36 percent passed. The highest score was a fifteen and the lowest was a three. Just for fun, I wanted to see how students would do if they had chosen A-B-C-D over and over again. Four of my ninety students would have improved their scores if they had done so. That fact alone made me join Richie on the search for the nearest bridge. It's a good thing that the bridge that crosses the Rio Save is three hours and sixty kilometers down a shitty dirt road.

On the other hand, students need to earn seven and a half points on the National Exam to pass. Using this scale, 75 percent of the letters students and 85 percent of the science students would have passed. If this is the silver lining to the cloud, it's a very bold lining. Compared to last year's National Exam scores, the kids are doing much better this year. Last year, 20 percent scored ten our higher and less than 50 percent passed with a 7.5. There may yet be hope for these kids.

With that piece of good news, things were a little better Wednesday afternoon. Things got even better when we received a couple of packages from home. And then, as if someone knew we were riding too high, our eleventh-grader neighbor decided to tear me down. He heard that one of the student helpers here earned a measly seven on the exam and figured he could do better. He then proceeded to take the exam. Not only did he defeat said student: he also managed to do better than all but two of my twelfth graders. He earned – and I mean earned – a fourteen. Time to find that bridge.

For a change, Richie, Sozinho, and I all agreed on our meal for the night: beans. Sozinho thinks he's special and wants to cook his own beans. I no longer take offense to this. I see it as more good beans for Richie and me. Just to spite him, I threw some chicken breast into out beans. Victories are small, even petty, here so I take them where I can get them.

While in Chimoio, Richie purchased “Spartacus: Blood and Sand” the new(ish) series on Starz. We figured that gladiators always make for good television. We watched two episodes and were split. Of course we loved the blood and guts and gratuitous female nudity, but we thought they went a little too “300” on the whole show. Way too much slow motion.

I had planned on making a run to the market on Thursday morning. But minutes before I was about to walk out the door, we got a text from Alexis. She was back in town for the day to show her bosses around and wanted to say goodbye. We didn't have the opportunity to say goodbye to her when she left for Beira a couple weeks ago, so it was nice to have this second chance. She wanted to meet around 11, which gave me a couple hours to do some reading. After months of not reading it, I jumped back into “Someone Knows My Name”. I found my place and sat on the patio glued to the book. Yes, it's a piece of fiction writing, but it's steeped in a whole lot of history, so I'm okay with it.

We spent about an hour in the villa with Alexis and her boss's two daughters. As I said a couple of weeks ago, it's a little difficult to see people leave, especially those who arrived after us. It's especially difficult in the case of Alexis because outside of her and and the Volunteers who were here before us, no one really understands this place, including the Volunteers from Mambone.

We returned home just after noon. There was no rush to jump into lunch. Neither of us had class today and we had plenty of beans left over from last night. We threw those on the stove for a couple minutes, cooked up some rice, and feasted.

One of our colleagues came over early in the afternoon with a worse-than-average box of wine. He doesn't have any classes on Thursday and Richie is normally done on Thursdays by 9:30. I would normally have class now, but since I've given my final, I'm not obligated to go into class. We sat around for a while, knocking off that box of wine. They wanted to go to the villa; I wasn't really up for it. We just came back from the villa and I didn't want to walk all the way back there just to do something I could do here. I stuck around, wanting to read and work on the electricity in our colleague's house.

A lot of the houses here have been having trouble with their lights since receiving twenty-four hour electricity. This included our house. I did a very American thing when this happened: recognized the problem, sought a solution, and fixed it. My colleagues, however, have chosen a different route: recognize the problem, do nothing about it, and light candles at night. This, to me, is kind of like doing grades by hand even though we have Excel. We have the technology, it can make life easier, but they are just a little slow to embrace technology, even if the technology is 150 years old.

As such, I have made it my mission to show them that there is a better option. I wanted to rewire my colleague's house, but there was no electricity in the afternoon. It's been touch-and-go the last week or so. We've had at least one big power outage every day and today's was the biggest of all. Power was down from around 1:00 until 7:00. All of that time with only three hours of energy per day had us well prepared for this. I sat down with my book and read until there was no more sunlight.

Richie was still in the villa around dinner time, so I went on and had dinner without him. He was planning to eat fish anyway, so I was okay cooking for myself. Having not eaten potatoes and eggs for lunch, it became my dinner. With the lights on, I continued reading until Richie came back. He returned around 9:00, drunk, ate his fish, and passed out. I stayed up reading a little more before going to sleep.

Friday morning did not treat Richie well at all. Quite frankly, he looked miserably. There was a lot of win consumed last night, apparently, and I was glad I didn't take part in it. Our colleague who went out with him looked surprisingly unfazed. For me, the morning was quiet. All of the action for me would be in the afternoon. With all my exams corrected and entered into the computer, the only things left for me to do were writing up an answer guide and handing back the exams. The first I did before lunch; the second would have to wait a little.

Before I could take care of my own stuff, one of our friends asked us to proctor an exam for him. It's not a thrilling activity, but it would take up a couple hours.

Immediately following their biology exam, I went into my classes to return my exams. The consensus was clear: the test was hard. Really hard. I didn't need them to tell me that: I could see it in the numbers. And they didn't need for me to read the numbers. They knew that they got killed. But this is their future in a mere four months and I'll be damned if I don't have them as prepared as possible.

The second class – the one I watched during the biology exam – had even more issues with me. “Controlou muito!” they said. I don't know what they were expecting. I watch them like a hawk during my exams. Did they think I would just play games on my phone for their biology test? Of course not. If anything, I almost feel obligated to watch them even closer.

After finishing up my school responsibilities, Richie and I ran to the market looking for nothing in particular. On the way, we realized we hadn't had beef in a while and should see if it was in the market. Success! With a kilo of delicious beef, we went with cheesesteaks and fries, always a winning dinner.

Nightly entertainment went later than usual for me, but not for Richie. We watched a couple episodes of “Spartacus”, which were better than the first two. For one, they cut down on the slow motion. More importantly, though, there was a ton of hand-to-hand combat in the last couple episodes, which was awesome. Richie went to bed after the two episodes. I, on the other hand, stayed up until about midnight finishing “Someone Knows My Name”. I was too close not to finish.

The other factor in keeping me awake was a strange feeling of homesickness. The last time I was homesick here was the third week of training. I remember it distinctly because it happens so rarely. I don't know why it hit tonight, but I couldn't help but think about home, my family and friends, my students in San Diego, all the people I want to see and things I want to do. For most of the night I was wrapped up in memories instead of sheets and blankets. The book proved to be a good distraction. Finally, I fell alseep.

Sozinho was gone for all of Saturday morning. We wouldn't mind this, except he failed to do any of the necessary cleaning in the house. This shit is getting old. He has so few responsibilities in this house that if he wanted to, he could be done with everything by 8:00. Instead, he chooses to be lazy or he goes off doing his own thing, and this pisses us off to no end.

There was no way I was going to do his work. And besides, I had my own work to do. My sweatpants were in dire need of some repairs. It's not that they were particularly damaged. Everything was in tact, but they were about six inches too long. I was sick and tired of dragging them in the dirt, so I spent a couple hours sewing them up. I kept the work momentum going by prepping for lunch. After that, things came to an immediate halt. I prepped, so cooking duties fell to Richie.

After lunch, I was called over by a couple colleagues to do some work in their house. They wanted me to change all the light fixtures in their house. I grabbed my Leatherman and a knife and went to work. They seemed happy to have a fully lit house. The also wanted me to fix their fridge, which was a far bigger challenge. I couldn't fix it perfectly, but what's important is that it shuts completely now. Maybe I'll get a free soda or two sometime down the road.

We made a late afternoon market run to kill some time. We didn't need anything urgently – everything could have waited until the morning – but as long as we were there, we knocked out some shopping.

As people started to pile back into the house after a long night of drinking, I knew I was going to be in for a long night of not sleeping. Coming off sickness and a long travel day, this wouldn't be ideal, but I had little say in the matter. I'd be okay with a night of not sleeping – there was no way I would be putting in another ten-hour travel day on Sunday – but did I really need someone coughing in my face for the better part of the night? That just seemed a little unnecessary.

Richie, having come up on Friday and pegged with teaching on Monday, made his way out just after sun-up. I got my best hours of sleep after people left. Eventually, I found the motivation to roll out of bed. Besides the fact that I didn't want to travel back-to-back days, I had some things to do in Chimoio. For one, I needed money. I arrived in town with less than two hundred Meticais, and the only reason I had that money was because of the kindness of drivers who didn't ask for money. I would have had enough to make it, but my Metical count would have been in the single digits.

Almost as importantly, Chimoio is home to these pretty cool hats that have the Mozambican flag sewn into the side. They are impossible to find in Maputo, so you can only begin to imagine trying to find them in Machanga. I spent an hour or so scouring the market for these hats as well as beanies, but the headgear was nowhere to be found. Going to market on Sunday didn't help my cause, but they have apparently been more difficult to find these days.

I did not, however, return empty-handed. I still got my cash as well as some food for the local Volunteer and myself. There are a lot of Volunteers around the Chimoio area and the Volunteer who hosted the party lived just outside of Chimoio. I jumped into a dreaded chapa (it was only a couple of kilometers) and headed back to the house.

It's a good thing that the Volunteer there was as lazy as I was feeling. After eating lunch, we plopped down on a mattress and settled in for an afternoon of movies. We went for a mindless action film in “Resident Evil”. I've never really understood movies like this. I was raised in a house without gaming consoles (my parents' call) and comic books (my own choice), so movies based on video games or comic books are usually beyond me. We were both satisfied with this, though, that we decided to crack in on the sequel.

About half way through the movie, my buddy got a call from someone who would be crashing at his house for the night. This traveler found my buddy through CouchSurfers, which is quite a brilliant website that connects people looking to crash at someone's house with people willing to host said seekers. I'll be getting on that site as soon as I get home, but with all us Peace Corps Volunteers spread out across the country, I'm sure I can travel pretty much anywhere in the country and find a Volunteer willing to put me up for a night.

This particular travel has had quite an adventure. He has been on the road for eleven months. He's covered large parts of Southeast Asia, Australia, New Zealand, and Africa. It's the kind of trip I'd love to do, but probably won't be able to do until I hit a serious midlife crisis.

By 8:00, all of us were pretty exhausted, but we couldn't bring ourselves to go to bed at 8:00. We managed to stay up for another hour or so before going to sleep.

As is usual on the nights before travel days, I didn't sleep very well. I try to get out right at sunrise. I set an alarm for 5:30, but I'm paranoid when I set an alarm. I don't trust them. I always set two alarms. I'm neurotic like that. Even that, though, is not enough. My body finds a way to wake up almost hourly. This evening, however, I was lucky that the sleep I got in those hour intervals was good sleep.

I was on the road by 6:30, and the travel day started out promising. I got a ride almost right away to Inchope, the crossroads between the EN6 and EN1. But my luck ended there. For the entire day. I was really hoping to hitch a ride with someone, but there weren't a lot of cars heading south and the ones going wouldn't stop for me. I knew that if nothing else came, I could always fall back on the chapa to Machanga. While I waited, I made friends with this Australian guy who was on the road from Malawi to Johannesburg.

By 9:30, no car had stopped for me and the Machanga chapa pulled in. Bleh. I don't want to be in a chapa, but there was no sense in trying at this point. The hour was getting late. I risked not getting home if I didn't take this chapa. At least I knew – at least I gave myself a chance – that I would get home on this chapa.

There were three things on this particular chapa that comforted me. First, I had a book – as usual. Over the course of the ride, I finished half of A.J. Jacobs' “The Year of Living Biblically”. The premise is simple: follow the Bible's rules for a year. Executing that plan, as I figured before and found out in colorful detail over the course of the book, would be a lot more difficult. I was tired, but I couldn't put it down. The second thing that made the trip was that I had one of the two front seats, which are always more comfortable than the seats in back.

The third thing – or, I should actually say, person – was this drop-dead gorgeous woman with a perfectly shaven head. She had less hair than I have. I've heard plenty of people say that bald is beautiful. I certainly don't see in the mirror every day, but god damn, this woman was living proof of it. Think Natalie Portman in “V for Vendetta”, but African. If I were a better man – or Richie – I would have hit on her, but I don't have game in English. Forget trying to spit game in Portuguese.

The chapa arrived in Machanga around 4:30 in the afternoon. What's another ten-hour travel day? I will say: I am pretty much done traveling. I'm over it. This is one of the last times I'll be on the road for more than six hours until I had to Maputo to get out of here. I'll have one more trip up to Chimoio, and maybe one to Beira, but for the most part, I'm done.

I told Richie that he was in charge of dinner – steak sandwiches and french fries. But that meal is a multi-stove multi-person operation. I cooked the french fries, a truly mindless activity, ate, and fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed.

A good night of sleep was what I needed and that's exactly what I got. I woke up feeling refreshed, alive, ready to tackle the week. It helps that there's not a lot to tackle this week: handing back exams, a quick lesson on computer vocabulary, and a prep session for the final exam next weekend. I'm not thrilled about giving exams just two weeks apart, but it must be done.

I kept surprisingly busy in the morning. I didn't quite finish my grading work from Friday. I had all the corrections done, but I hadn't punched the grades into the computer. The grades were pretty good by Mozambican standards: the average was 62 percent. While I was at it, I started writing up the final exam. It should be a good measuring stick for how they'll do on their national exam in November.

Class was simple enough. A lot of teachers have already left school for the trimester. Sozinho told me that I'd be the only teacher that would show up to his class today. Fine by me. I had his group join the other group, so I only had to go over the exam once. Satisfied with their grades, the kids were happy to leave after going over the exam. So was I.

I dove back into “The Year of Living Biblically”. It's such a smooth, funny read that I was able to knock it out before the beans finished cooking on the stove. The timing was actually perfect. Most of the water had burned off just as I finished the last chapter. As soon as I was done with it, Richie picked it up. He should be done with it by Thursday. I've said it a ton of times: we're not good about reading slowly.

This book was brilliantly executed and made me think about my own religious beliefs, or lack thereof. I have about as much religion in me as there is ice in the Sahara. I have a lot of issues with religion. Aside from the not believing in some higher power, which would leave me out of most religions, I just don't see the purpose of religion. I understand it can be a guide to living a good life. This book, in a lot of ways, points that out. Many of the laws and rules in the Bible are wise and caring. Some are crazy or vague or downright outdated. We get in trouble when we start cherry-picking out parts to fit our own agendas.

So I guess instead of going the Jacobs route of trying to follow all of them – recognizing the impossibility and absurdity of this – I've gone the opposite direction. That's not to say I don't follow a lot of them. “Thou shalt not murder”, among others, is a pretty solid rule for society, and I'm okay with the idea of tithing. But for the most part, the Bible plays little role as my ethical compass. I guess I try to live by the simple idea of doing good, or as Google would say, “Don't be evil”. This seems a lot more attainable.

My brother called a little bit before getting ready for dinner. It had been a good couple of weeks since we had last talked, so it was nice to catch up. The rest of the night after that was pretty quiet. A part of me wanted to watch the soccer game between Holland and Uruguay. I had no rooting interest in the game, so I instead chose for sleep. It was the right choice. For the record, Holland won. With Spain and Germany playing tomorrow, it will be an all European final.

Richie and I were both up bright and early Wednesday morning. Actually, it wasn't bright at all. It was just after 3 in the morning. This wasn't a wake-up courtesy of heat, like in January, nor was it a gastrointestinal crisis. This was all Sozinho's fault. He has decided that the middle of the night is a good time to talk on the phone with friends. He tries to be courteous by going and outside and into the bathroom, thinking that the room will contain his voice. Nope: it only exacerbates the problem. If this goes any longer, he's going to be on the wrong end of a yelling-at. He managed to stay on the phone for three hours, during which time I struggled to get a little shut-eye.

I was busy at work for most of the morning. My mission was to finish writing up the final exam for the students. This wasn't a whole lot of work, but it did keep me busy. There was no original thought going into the exam: everything was taken right out of previous National Exams. I don't sugar-coat any questions or change any words to make it friendlier. It should give the students a pretty good idea of where they stand for November. Just after finishing, the twelfth grade teacher from the secondary school came over. I told him that I'd have the test by Friday, but he knows me well. I'm not Mozambican, so when I say Friday, I really do mean Friday. He seemed happy that he wouldn't have to do any work again. I'm happy to help.

Before we could get to lunch, I had one more item of business to complete. One of the sections on the exam is very heavy in computer vocabulary. I haven't done any lessons regarding computers this year, so I figured the least I could do was prepare the students properly for this exam.

I was really hoping to knock out class right after lunch. At least I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible. Didn't happen today. I waited all afternoon for my students to swing by, but no one appeared. Sad. It wasn't a problem. I kept myself busy with a book called “African Friends and Money Matters”. This is the kind of book I wish I had during training. Although it speaks broadly about Africa – always complex, considering the number of countries and cultures – a lot of it rings true, amazing considering a lot of the author's research comes Senegal, way on the other side of the continent.

Class lasted a mere thirty minutes. There wasn't a lot of explaining to do. Copy the picture, explain the vocabulary, tell the kids they should know that it will be on the exam next week. What was amazing was how few students were there. Less than half of the kids in that class were there. They'll regret it when they don't understand a huge portion of the exam.

The featured entertainment tonight, after dinner of course, was a huge game between Spain and Germany. Spain had been bouncing along, not looking particularly threatening. Germany, on the other hand was coming of dismantlings of England and Argentina, two teams mentioned as serious contenders. On paper, Germany should have won this game. But Spain came out well. Really well. They dominated play for the entire game. Germany barely sniffed the net and Carlos Puyol's header in the second half was enough to carry Spain into the final for the first time.

Waking up this morning was probably the first time that I've really thought “it's time to get home”. I woke up from a dream about cheeseburgers. Seriously. Cheeseburgers. If that's not a sign that I've been out of America for a while, I don't know what is.

I was out of it for the entire morning. I don't know if it was being disappointed with the lack of cheeseburgers or the fact the Sozinho woke us up again, this time at 4:00 in the morning. Some of it probably had to do with some stomach issues. It was not a pleasant morning on that front, the first time in a good while that I've had any sort of stomach issue.

School has been very quiet for the entire week. A lot of teachers have already left, even though there are still a couple weeks left in the trimester. It seems the students have followed in their footsteps. Judging from the attendance I had yesterday and today, apparently the trimester is over. I had nineteen out of sixty students today. It will be interesting to see how many people actually show up for the exam next Tuesday.

I committed myself to snapping out of the drowsiness from this morning. I crashed for a nap around 1:30, and I do mean crash. I hit the pillow and was gone instantly. This nap was going along quite nicely until I got a phone call from Peace Corps. Nothing important, just some transportation stuff for our conference next month. It wasn't the worst timing. Prior to the call, I was out for a good hour and change. The only downside was I woke up drowsy, again.

It took a little while, but I eventually snapped awake. Richie decided to head to the villa. I had planned on heading out there, but I wanted to print my exam and I was hungry, two issues which are far more important than drinking. Unfortunately, the electricity wasn't working in the room with the printer, so I was out of luck on that front. Food, however, is rarely in shortage. I cooked up some rice and chicken breast, a tasty meal. Richie rolled in about when I was going to sleep. He ate, and soon after we were both asleep.

My Friday morning started the same way that any sports-loving American spent Thursday night: talking about the shit-show that was LeBron. I spent a good chunk of time on ESPN.com getting news from all sides and then discussing with other Volunteers. The consensus is thinking here is: he handled things poorly, he is now the most hated person in Cleveland, it's going to be amazing to watch the Heat play, and any of us could probably fill out that team.

I didn't see Sozinho Friday morning, which is usually a blessing. The more he is out of the house, the better. Usually, he is not out for more than an hour or so – long enough to go to the market, talk to random people, and take his sweet time back. Today, though, he was gone and nobody really knew where. Richie sent him with money to buy fish, which normally just requires a trip to the market. This was no market run.

I would welcome this kind of move, but Sozinho seemed to forget that, yes, he does have responsibilities in this house. In exchange for us giving him shelter, food, other random amenities when he asks for them, he does stuff for us. Stuff is a broad category that can be anything from going to the market to washing dishes to collecting money from people who owe me. Simply, he's responsible for the things that we don't want to do. And today, he has failed to accomplish anything.

Energy was on in the school this morning. I thought that I'd be able to print out my exam, get it photocopied at night and be able to hand out some of the copies to my secondary school counterpart by the weekend. When I went over to the school, our assistant director told me there was no paper. It's always something, isn't it? I cracked a smile, he gave a laugh, and that was that.

By 10 o'clock, I was preparing myself for two activities. The first would definitely be the easier the two. Since Sozinho didn't wash the dishes, someone had to do it. If nothing else, I certainly understand on a better level when parents say “they're not going to [insert verb here] themselves”. It's all too true.

The second task would take some seriously preparation. After four hours of being gone and having not done anything in the house, I was ready to make unleash a verbal lashing on Sozinho. Anyone who knows me knows that this is not my style. I don't yell at people. It never really does any good and my lack of experience in yelling means I'm not very good at it. Tack on the fact that I would have to do this in Portuguese, without being able to throw in “fuckin” or “goddamnit” every sixth word, and this was going to be a disaster. I started thinking up all sorts of phrases that I would use.

He was not back by the time we ate lunch, nor was he back by the time class started. His class, by the way. He missed his review session for the final and I can't really say I was sad about it. When I came back from class, he had returned. It was probably a blessing that he returned when I wasn't home. Richie, who is even more calm-headed than I am, asked where he went to buy fish. Get this: he walked nine kilometers to some place, bought fish, then walked back another nine kilometers. Eighteen kilometers. I'm not even going to do the conversion into miles; even the most ignorant American knows that eighteen kilometers is a lot of miles. Richie informed me of this and, although pissed off that he didn't do any of the things we asked him to do, I couldn't bring myself to yell at him.

After my second class of the afternoon, I decided that I was going to be productive. Our porch light has not worked for the last couple of months, which was curious since we had recently purchased a new fluorescent bulb for it. I figured it had to be the wiring. When I cracked the case open, lo and behold, one of the wires was very loosely connected. I popped the wire back in place and all was working. I tested it three or four times and it seemed to be good to go. Successful, we made a trip to the market to restock on goods.

The highlight of my day came right before we went to the market. Richie was in the bathroom, doing his thing, when all of a sudden, I hard a thud, followed by Richie saying “shit”. I know that feeling: something fell in the poophole. It was really a matter of what. I half jokingly yelled “phone?”. “Yea”. Richie's pain was my pleasure. I couldn't stop laughing. Even better, he then proceeded to reach into the poophole to rescue his poopy phone. I told him he'd be the subject of my jokes for the night. And I almost couldn't resist laughing when he shook someone's hand at the market.

All that work on the light – okay, it was only about five minutes of work – went to waste. When darkness fell – and the moonless night was dark tonight – the light would flicker then peter out, flicker then peter out. Apparently, this light bulb only works during daylight hours. It was comically frustrating, nothing really to get angry over. I'd repair it for good in the morning.

Following dinner – a stir fry with delicious, sweet pineapple, we watched “The Narrows”. It's the first time in a while that we've watched a movie and we couldn't have picked a worse movie. Yea, there were some cool scenes, but on the whole it was just weird. Unsatisfied, we went to bed.

Another day, another morning that Sozinho has failed to do anything. I'll be damned if I'm going to dishes two days in a row. I started putting all the dishes outside, making my displeasure visible, when I saw Sozinho off in the distance. It was then I did something very Mozambican: I yelled his name as loud as I could, got his attention, and just pointed at the dishes. He got the message.

I wasn't done with him. After washing the dishes, I sent him to buy bread and a couple of parts for my lighting situation. The truth is, I would have gone myself, but I didn't know the name of the part and I didn't want to play a game of “watch the muzungu try to explain what he wants in butchered Portuguese”. I usually get what I want (see last week – abraçadeiras), but I wasn't up for it today. Sozinho got the job done with little problem. Upon is return, I spent a couple minutes hooking everything up. Seems good to go. We'll see come nightfall.

Lunch was followed by an awesome nap. My dreams, for better or worse, have been really vivid the last couple nights and naps, despite the fact that I haven't popped a Larium in the last couple days. Nothing has come close to the cheeseburgers, but I've been in a hospital for someone giving birth (not a pleasant way to spend my time asleep) and rinkside seats at a hockey game (awesome, until a puck came flying toward my face). This nap was no different. I can't remember what happened, by I woke up slightly shaken.

I was on bean duty in the afternoon. I don't know if Richie went to the market or to sleep, but he was no where to be found. Since the poophole incident, his phone hasn't been working well. We put it in a small bag of rice to get out the moisture. It's a nice trick. The phone seemed to work this morning, then didn't work before lunch, then worked again after lunch.

Richie spent the afternoon in the villa, leaving while I had been asleep. He came home later than usual because he was asked by Madinha to walk Greg – our long-lost acquaintance from South Africa to the river. As Richie told it, Greg was walking a little ahead of his wife and Richie. When they caught up, they found Greg passed out in a pile of sand. I wouldn't believe it if it were anyone else. Only Greg could do this.

After eating, a couple of us went out to a bar. All I wanted was to be at a bar that had a television, which we found. We watched the last hour of the Germany-Uruguay game. I may not be religious, but I almost had to believe in karma when Uruguay, in the last moment of the game, hit the crossbar to lose by one goal. It was only fitting that Uruguay would suffer the same fate as Ghana.

With that, and a couple more beers, I was able to sleep easily.

Another night in pain, another night without sleep. One night of this, I could handle. Two nights of this is just a little much. To this point, I've done everything that the book and our medical people told me to do, quite possibly too much. It's pretty bad when the only time you can even consider sleeping is immediately after gargling warm salt water. I felt like that's how I spent most of my day: gargling and then considering a nap.

In my mind, there could only be two diagnoses for this ailment: strep or tonsillitis. The salt water and advil should have been enough to knock out tonsillitis and the pain wasn't getting any better. In my mind, it was strep. Maybe it's because when you don't know, you tend to go to the worst case scenario, but I feel like this was reasonable. I knew it was bad when I wanted to take antibiotics to knock it out. Usually, I will put off taking pills until I'm near death. By Sunday afternoon, it got to the point that I wouldn't mind taking drugs to resolve this.

I knew I reached this point at lunch. Richie and I were eating our eggs and potatoes for quite possibly the 500th time. As usual, we split a loaf of Mambone bread, which has a slightly hardened crust. I took one bite into the bread and I couldn't swallow it without cringing. Richie, the beneficiary of my almost half of bread, laughed at my pain. If nothing else, there is no shortage of schadenfreude in this house. If he were in my position, I'd be laughing at him too.

After a third round of warm salt water, I was able to squeeze out a small nap. It took me a while to fall asleep because every time I had to swallow, I would get that much further away from crashing. That's the kind of pain I was in. Thankfully, I caught about an hour's worth of sleep. Rested, and having not done a whole lot of work the last couple of days, I felt the need to be productive. My students are scheduled to take a midterm on Friday, so I spent a couple hours in the afternoon banging out the exam. I may be sick, but I'm not going to be totally lazy.

Given that I could not even swallow bread, I figured that my dinner options were limited to pasta. Spaghetti was about the softest thing I could eat. I managed to get through my meal no problem, but after that, I was shot, wiped out. I needed a good night of sleep. I popped an ibuprofen and a sleeping pill, and within minutes, before I even had the chance to gulp, I was asleep.

Asleep I was for a solid nine hours. The night of sleep was as necessary to my health as water or sunlight. I finally woke up when I heard the door open twice within five minutes. The first time was Richie leaving for class. The second time was Richie, having canceled class, coming back in the house. Ten of his forty or so students managed to make it to class. Most of them, it appears, were still at home or heading back to school after Independence Day. With that, this one-day holiday became five days. I know things usually take longer in Mozambique, but this is getting ridiculous.

I spent the morning with salt water, with the intent of being able to eat my entire lunch. I didn't want to give Richie the pleasure of seeing me struggle to eat bread. I probably shouldn't have eaten my bread, but I did anyway. Things were a little easier today, but every bite was caused plenty of pain. At least I didn't have to teach today.

Following his morning canceled classes, Richie canceled his afternoon classes. By mid afternoon, he was getting antsy and wanted to go to the villa. I decided I should probably get my legs moving as well. When three colleagues joined us, I knew it was going to turn into a beer run. I would have to turn that down and go with a soda. On the way to the villa, our medical people called and told me I could go on antibiotics. Success!

While in the villa, a colleague and I went on the hunt for electrical wire. One of things that really bothers me is the lack of power outlets. There are only three in the entire house and none of them are on the patio, my favorite place to work. I figured if I put an outlet on the patio, I could work out there with the computer for hours on end. I had a plan in my head: since I couldn't run wire in the guts of our house, I'd run it along the walls. Electric wire between two adapters would make for a MacGuyver extension cord. It wouldn't be pretty, but it would get the job done. The wire was a lot pricier than I thought it would be, and since it's the end of the month, I'm just about out of money. This project could wait a couple days.

My parents called while Richie and I returned from the market. Most of my family was in town for a baby-naming ceremony at our house. It's one of the last major events I'll miss at home. The months are few now.

I popped my meds as soon as I finished our stir fry dinner. I've been put on ciproflaxcin. Cipro is an atomic bomb antibiotic: it apparently destroys everything in its path. I've always known cipro as the drug you take when Pepto Bismol is not doing its job. I never thought I'd be taking it for strep, but here I am, popping three cipros a day. Within hours of popping the first one and a half pills, I started to feel better. Amazing. I knew it would be a good couple days before I was back to 100%, but at least I could go to sleep without the help of a pill tonight.

Tuesday started out almost exactly the same as Monday, with the closing of a door. Richie and Sozinho went on a mission to Mambone to buy starches. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but we managed to knock out our twenty-five kilogram (that's 55 pounds for those of you in America) sack of rice. Sozinho did his part by finishing off twelve kilos of corn flour. Their mission was to find a smaller sack of rice. We know there are ten- and twelve-kilo bags, and we're banking on Mambone to have them.

While they were out, I had a mission of my own. Our neighbor came over with the electrical wire he promised, so I could get to work on putting in a new power outlet. I had all the pieces prepared; they just needed to be connected. I thought I had everything hooked up, but the outlet still wasn't working. I found out which end wasn't working the hard way: zap! A whole bunch of electricity went straight through my arm. Note: when working with electricity, turn it off or wear rubber gloves. The one -- and as it turns out, the only -- shock would not deter me. A couple minutes later, I had everything working. Sweet!

Richie and Sozinho were also successful on their mission. As they walked in, Sozinho had both the ten-kilo bag of rice and the ten-kilo bag of corn flour on his back. Richie tried to take one of them, but as Sozinho explained to us just does ago, the younger person carries the stuff. Age has its advantage. They walked up to the house just in time for lunch. Lunch was eventful for me, as I was able to get through the entire meal pain-free. This day has gone way too well.

I had a couple of classes to give Tuesday afternoon. We continued on our magical journey with the question how, surveying questions involving duration of time -- how long -- and questions of degree or size, such as "how cold" or "how big". I knew that I got through to one girl when I read her response to the question "How hot is the temperature today?" She is one of the girls who lives in a house that recently got hooked into satellite, and it's pretty clear from her answer that she's been watching the news. Her answer read "Today's temperature is 27 max, 18 min". I couldn't help but laugh.

When the energy came on late in the afternoon, I went over to the director's office to print out my exam. To save paper and money, I wanted to print two exams to a page, but for some reason, the printer was cutting off the bottom twenty percent of my exam. Frustrating, certainly, but I think I can figure out how to manipulate the copy machine to get two to a page.

I was pinned into dinner on my own tonight when Richie decided he was going to eat fish with Sozinho. I didn't want to cook anything special, so I looked at our canned food and saw I could just about put together a Thanksgiving meal. I know it's June, but who's going to stop me? I put together a can of sweet potatoes, a can of green beans, and a can of roast beef and had myself a tasty meal.

The entertainment today was a World Cup game of epic proportion. Spain was playing Portugal for the right to advance. I was counting on Spain to get me back on the winning track. I went six for six over the first three days, but Japan failed to beat Paraguay to keep me perfect. The game was as advertised. Portugal had some excellent chances but couldn't cash in. As the game went on, it became obvious that Spain was the superior time. They eventually made good on one of their chances and held on for a 1-0 win.

If nothing else, I've come to appreciate what a cruel game soccer is and what a vicious tournament the World Cup can be. Through group play, Portugal did not surrender a single goal. They tied 0-0 with both Ivory Coast and Brazil and squeezed in a thorough 7-0 dismantling of North Korea. In spite of this, they don't even win the group. Their reward for not giving up a single goal was a match with the number one ranked team in the world. They give up one goal, and their tournament is done. It's a wicked world.

By Wednesday, things should just about have returned to normal at school. One would think that six days off would be enough to celebrate Independence Day. Nope. Richie came back a failed man. Despite combining two groups of students, the classroom was still half empty. Class canceled No sense in teaching to a quarter of the students.

The bad luck, however, stopped with Richie. I made a run over to the market, where I had nothing but success. The first success was being able to make my exam fit two per page. The power of the zoom button is truly wonderful. Secondly, I found some items for beautifying the house: a new mirror for the bathroom and "abraçadeiras". I don't know what "abraçadeiras" are called in English, but they are plastic u-type nails that stick wire to wall. Someone who has worked in a Home Depot would know what to call those suckers. The third -- and quite possibly, the most important -- success was the presence of avocado in our market. What? This is excellent. A night of Mexican food would be in our future.

After lunch, I sat around hoping that someone would come get me so I could knock out my class early. Amazingly, no one came. I'm shocked that all of the teachers due to give class actually gave class. Whatever. I kept myself busy by securing the electrical wire with the "abraçadeiras". The last thing we need is to trip over electrical wire. We trip over enough shit as it is already.

Finally, my time for class came along. The length of this class depended entirely on the students. I gave my students the information about their exam on Friday. I told them the format of the exam and the topics that the exam would cover, and then opened it up to questions. "Questions or doubts? Anyone? Anyone?" Nope. A year and a half into teaching and I still don't understand this. If you have absolutely no doubts, you should be getting 100% on every exam. These students flutter around 60%. I've done what I can; the rest is in their hands.

Alexis was at the house when I got back from class. This is her last full week here. Watching people leave, especially when we've been here for longer, is painful. It's depressing to watch people come and then leave. I must give credit to Alexis though. She was dropped in Machanga with almost no training. At 19, that can be overwhelming. Hell, even with the ten weeks of training that we had, getting dropped here was overwhelming for us. I remember those days all too well. Anyways, I told Alexis that she could stay for our Mexican bounty if she wanted, but her host institution would have none of it.

Bummer for her, because this food was delicious. We went all out on this Mexican food night. We probably had enough food for three or four people, but that wasn't going to stop us from finishing it. We are so rarely full here that we take advantage of it whenever we get the opportunity. Needless to say, we went to bed very full.

I woke up Thursday morning feeling better for the most part. I would love to credit the magical healing powers of the avocado, but even I know better than that. Cipro is a wonder-drug and in three days, it had done its job almost perfectly. My throat still hurt a bit, but I'll blame dehydration for that one.

Thursday was a largely uneventful day, especially in the morning. My class for Thursday was already planned. My science-track kids would be getting a lesson they should have received last Thursday. And yes, to their dismay, they would be tested on it tomorrow. It's their own damn fault, really. If they had celebrated the holiday on its designated day instead of a day early, they wouldn't have had to worry about this class today. It was no concern to me.

That said, when the time came around for class, I made sure to spend some extra time on the lesson. While it is their responsibility to learn it, it as just as much, if not more, my responsibility to teach it well. For some reason, this group of kids really struggled with the difference between "how much" and "how many". They needed me to explain it or three times, which was slightly annoying because the other group figured it out right away. By the end of the day, I think they had it figured out. I'd find out tomorrow. So would they.

Late in the afternoon, I had to finish making photocopies for the exam tomorrow. I got two exams to fit on the page yesterday. Now, just needed to make copies for everyone. Remarkably, the school slashed it's photocopy price by 60%, meaning I wouldn't have to charge students for this exam. More importantly, I would have enough money to make photocopies and arrive in Chimoio.

The rest of the night was quiet. Richie and I made stir fry and followed that with "Dogma". "Dogma" is one of my favorite movies. It never fails to entertain.

The calm before the storm was Friday morning. The only thing I had to do Friday morning was splice my exams in half so every student would have an exam. And making sure that Sozinho didn't get his hands on an exam before the scheduled time.

If the morning was calm, the afternoon and evening were chock full of excitement. I had exams to give, which is always lovely. I didn't have any cheaters, a lovely recent development. More interesting than that, though was the school director was giving an exam at the same time as I was. This is usually unimportant and uninteresting, but this was the first time that I had seen a typed exam of his. He had sat in on my formatting lesson, and while there was certainly room for improvement, the formatting on the whole was pretty good. It definitely brought some joy to my day.

Whatever joy it brought, however, was torn down piece by piece in the hours that followed. Not wanting to grade exams in Chimoio this weekend, I spent the afternoon grading exams. On the whole the kids did well. But still, grading exams sucks. The real destruction of my happiness came at night.

A bunch of us were watching the Uruguay-Ghana game. With all of the Portuguese-speaking teams out an only one African team remaining, everybody was rooting for Ghana. The entire game can be summed up in a single moment. In the last minute of extra time, Ghana had a penalty kick to win the game. They sent this twenty year old kid -- the one who scored the game-winning goal against the U.S. -- to the line. He has the goalie beat, but he clanks it off the crossbar. You could tell the kid was wrecked. Still, when the penalty kicks started, he was the first to kick (and he scored his). But their fate was sealed. They needed a miracle to beat Uruguay, and they got it, but the crossbar robbed them of advancing. It was clear going into penalties that Uruguay would advance.

I went to bed, feeling for this poor kid. It actually kept me awake for a good hour, thinking about it. My mind is bad like that. I eventually got to sleep, but I can't imagine that this guy will be sleeping for the next little while.

I was on the road early Saturday for Chimoio. I didn't really want to travel to Chimoio, but there was a party and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss a party. I was committed to two things: not using the Machanga road and not using the chapa. The first was easy. I crossed the river and made my way to Mambone. As I walked into town, I noticed a CARE car. CARE is the organization that the Volunteers in Vilanculos work for. I've always wanted a boleia with these guys, so of course the one time I'm able to get a ride from them, I'm not going to Vilanculos. I waited around for two hours for the car to leave, which sucked, but the car went 140 kilometers per hour the entire way, getting to Maluvane in record time.

My luck didn't get much better for the rest of the trip. I sat at Maluvane for hours, waiting for a car to head north, but it seemed like everything was going south. I eventually got into a big-rig heading for Tete -- which would have dropped me exactly where I needed to go -- but for some reason, he got stopped at the bridge across the river. I got out of the truck and waited another hour until a pick-up truck finally stopped for me. The ride was great -- fast and free. The whole trip to Chimoio cost less than 50 Meticais. It made all the waiting worthwhile. But between the strep, the soccer games, and the waiting, all I could think was "man, this was kind of a cruel week."

Once I was in town, there were only three things I wanted to do: eat, drink, and be merry. Eating was easy. The Volunteers in town killed a pig, someone brought a cake, everything was delicious. Drinking was a little more difficult, but I still managed to do my part. However, all that drinking pretty much eliminated my chance at achieving goal three. I was tired as it was and the booze knocked me out. Just about everyone went out around 10:00 to continue the party, but I was finished. I crashed fast.

It took nearly half a week, but by Sunday morning, Richie and I were fully recovered from our trip to South Africa. It is truly amazing how doing nothing but sitting in a bus can completely beat a person down. Of course, we were sleep-deprived and slightly malnourished, but who's counting. Even those few days in Machanga, when we did so little, were exhausting.

We were both grateful to have Sunday to relax and to be able to really appreciate the relaxation. Things were quiet Sunday morning. Church tends to keep people at the school pretty occupied. For us, our holy books are called Time, Newsweek, ESPN, and The Economist. We tear through these magazines. Richie is selective with his articles; I tend to read cover to cover, even though I really don't care about genetics or why the crime rate has fallen. Between sleeping in and reading magazines, we got through the morning rather quickly.

Once again, just as we were preparing lunch, Alexis came by our house. She has the incredible ability to get to our house right as we are putting food on the stove. It's like can smell the smoke from our stove and knows that food is on the way. Today, though, she turned down food. If I were her, I would have played by Richie's rule: if someone offers you something, take it. Especially considering that she is fed crap everyday by her host institution, our food might as well be gourmet. She says she doesn't want to take food away from us, but she knows we don't care. We may be poor, but we like to help a fellow muzungu.

Lunch, though delicious, wasn't particularly filling. Our tomatoes are quickly becoming ripe, and we have many more tomatoes than mouths to feed. If I were my sister, this would be a lot easier. I like tomatoes, but my sister is the only person I know who can sit down and eat tomatoes like they're candy. I need my tomatoes put into something, and our recipe book had something quick and easy: tomato soup. The whole thing, from prep to eating, took only an hour and for a first crack, the soup was pretty good. Plus it used up fifteen tomatoes, so that's a huge victory.

My parents called me shortly after I ate dinner. It felt like it had been a while since I had talked with them, but it was actually one of the shorter gaps I've endured. I think all of the travel made the days feel like weeks, making it feel like it had been months since we'd spoken. Toward the end of the conversation, we talked about how America was robbed of a win against Slovenia, which led to me ranting about the need for instant replay in sports.

My view on this was only justified as I watched the game between Brazil and Ivory Coast. Watching Brazil play is kind of like watching a lizard in pursuit of a insect: the lizard is going to be sneaky, patient, and strike whenever it feels like, ending in sure victory. Brazil was in complete control of the first half but never really threatened...until the decided playtime was over and it was time to put the ball in the net. Just like that, Brazil had the lead. As if Brazil isn't good enough, apparently it's okay for their players to use their hands, because their second goal was the result of not one but two hand-balls. I'm not quite sure what the referees are watching out there, but they are sure missing a whole lot.

The biggest upside to this World Cup for us is that the late game occurs right when we would normally be entertaining ourselves with our precious limited media. These games run until about ten at night, the new normal bedtime for me.

The late bedtime combined with the cold weather means that I've been sleeping very well. In the hot season – a season we're never going to have to endure again – waking up at five occurs out of necessity. The sheets are too soaked in sweat to tolerate. These days, sleeping until seven in the morning is easy. I awoke Monday morning to an empty house. Richie had class, poor kid. He went to collect work he assigned while he was gone. He returned in a rage. All of the kids had copied their work directly from a book. I would be handing out zeroes like Hershey bars on Halloween. Richie is far kinder than I am: I think he's just going to let them off the hook with a look of incredulity, a laugh, an a talk about academic integrity and plagiarism, terms these students have probably never heard before.

While Richie was in the classroom, I managed to keep myself pretty busy. When I realized we had no bread in the house, I made a run for bread. I planned out my lessons for the next couple weeks. It's truly amazing how complex the question “how” is. I knew it was difficult – it's why I haven't taught it up to this point – but this went far beyond what I ad anticipated. Just teaching this one question is going to talk a couple of weeks. I also made a run to the market in search of food. By the time I finished all those things, it was lunch time.

The afternoon was all about food. While I had the charcoal going, I wanted to cook our beans for dinner. I decided to cook these beans as Mozambican as possible. Instead of sauteing the vegetables, I just threw them into the pot. All said, cooked those suckers for nearly four hours. While they cooked, I read some magazines. People came and went. And before Richie came back from his afternoon classes, I had everything cooked and cleaned up. He says that he was out busy bringing home the bacon. That may be so, but I was the one cooking up all that bacon.

Speaking of bacon, my parents brilliant sent me a Costco-sized packet of crumbled bacon in one of their packages. Bacon has been going on or in nearly everything we've cooked up recently. I figured it couldn't be terrible in the beans. It was the one deviation I made from cooking truly Mozambican beans, and I think everyone who consumed the beans would agree it was a good addition.

The featured game of the night was between Spain and Honduras. Spain had underperformed up to this point in the tournament. David Villa hung a couple of gorgeous goals on the Honduran goalkeeper. I was exhausted two-thirds of the way through the game. To that point, Honduras still hadn't registered a shot on goal. I figured the same would hold true for the last thirty minutes of the game. I went to bed figuring Spain would be victorious.

I slept in late again on Tuesday. For the first time in weeks, I would have to actually work today. Taking a two week vacation right in the middle of the trimester sure does make the trimester fly by quickly. The morning, other than a quick run to the market on the bike, was slow. I checked email, read a magazine, and prepped for lunch.

Our charcoal was slow to light today. Finally, around noon, the fire really got going. I only had ten minutes to eat, but I still managed to cram all the food down and brush my teeth in time for class to start.

The grand adventure into the question “how” began today. I counted at least five different ways we use the question “how”, and today's lesson would be on asking for and giving instructions. The example I put on the board was “How do you cook rice?” Of course, I know how to cook rice, but I wanted my students to think about the process. In each class, the students led perfectly into my main talking point: words of sequence, such as first, next, then, and finally. At the end of class, I had the students answer the question “How do you enter credit into a cell phone?” By the end of forty-five minutes, it seemed like they actually understood. This vacation may have been as good for their heads as it was for mine.

Following a quick catnap after class, a teacher came over asking for some computer help. He just wanted to format a document. For some reason he wanted me to put lines at the end of each sentence. It took me until the very end to realize that he wanted to fill in the space on the page. I could have deleted all those lines and hit that beautiful “justified” button in the toolbar, but I was lazy and left it as it was.

Dinner was a grand production. There were so many components to dinner that I had to start early. I was going to make chicken “parmesan”. The parmesan goes in quotes because the cheese we had was gouda. Whatever. We made some garlic bread and some pasta and had ourselves a full Italian dinner. Not bad considering we live in the middle of fuckin' nowhere.

I wasn't particularly interested in the soccer games tonight. The only game of interest occurred in the afternoon. South Africa knocked off France. France should be embarrassed by its pathetic performance in this tournament – a tie to Uruguay and losses to South Africa and Mexico. Mexico, South Africa, and Uruguay all tied in points with four, but South Africa was left out based on goal differential. It would have been nice if the host nation could have advanced, but at least there was some consolation in going out on a win.

It has not been a good tournament for the African teams. Ivory Coast, statistically alive, looks to be finished after their loss to Brazil. Cameroon and South Africa have been eliminated. Nigeria, slaughtered by South Korea, was disposed of tonight. Algeria needs a win against the US and for England to lose against Slovenia, and unlikely combination. The last great hope for Africa is Ghana. They have a win and a tie so far. They should advance out of the group if they play a decent final game.

Wednesday, as usual, passed by slowly. Every Wednesday is a waiting game: I wait to see if another teacher will cancel class, allowing me to teach earlier than usual. For better or worse, this almost always happens. The morning, though, is still challenging.

Unlike other Wednesdays, this day was challenging in another way. In one of the packages from last week, I received a book of logic puzzles. These are way more complicated than Kakuro or Sudoku. These games give you limited pieces of information, and with that information, you must determine all of the other pieces of information. For example, you may have to identify the first name, last name, age, school, and major for five different people, only knowing for certain a couple pieces of information. These puzzles are so complicated that it took me a full three hours to solve one puzzle. My head hurt all morning, but I managed to finished by lunch.

Shortly after lunch, one of the students in my class told me that they didn't have class. Sweet. My class today was part two of “questions with how”. Today's topic was questions dealing with quantity. In English, we use “how many” and “how much” and this is a constant source of confusion for my students. I didn't even know the difference – I had to look it up. It's one of those things that we just take for granted as native speakers. The explanation was quick and easy – “how many” for countable items, “how much” for non-countable items – and as such, so was my class.

I was especially grateful for the early class today because the United States had a little football game against Algeria, with qualification for the knock-out round on the line. The U.S. had no shortage of chances. The could have – hell, should have – scored four or five times. But through ninety minutes, there were just a couple of zeroes. Finally, two minutes into injury time, Landon Donovan scored for the States, pushing them through to the next round as winners of Group C. England, with a win over Slovenia, also advanced.

Which country each will play depended on the games later in the night, just after dinner for us.. Any of the four teams in group D – Australia, Serbia, Ghana, or Germany – could potentially advance. I, of course, was pulling for Ghana against Germany. They played well and had some good chances, but Germany was clearly the better team, earning a one-nothing win. Thanks to Australia's win against Serbia, Ghana moves on. In a rematch from 2006, Ghana will play the United States. I am torn on this game, but I will probably root for Ghana. Whoever manages to win that game, I will root for them for the remainder of the tournament.

Besides keeping our entertainment unwatched, the biggest side effect from these World Cup games has been a later bed time. For the last week or so, I've been going to bed around 11 o'clock, meaning I can sleep in until a reasonable hour. I almost made it to nine on Thursday morning, but I was still slow to roll out of bed. I spent the rest of the morning catching up on news from the internet. Oh, how I can't wait to have cheap internet whenever I want. Five months from now, that will be a reality.

I was scheduled to teach first period Thursday afternoon, but when I went to class, I had exactly five out of sixty students. Where have all the students gone? They started walking home for Mozambican Independence Day, which is tomorrow. How nice that they've managed to stretch this one-day holiday to two (and probably three or four with the weekend). I wasn't going to teach to five students, not when this material would be on their exam next week. I pushed it off to next week.

The rest of the afternoon, with so few people around, was very quiet. I sat on the patio cooking beans and playing – I should actually say “failing at” – logic games. Richie eventually started going stir-crazy and went for a walk to the market. Having already gone earlier in the afternoon, I had no interest in going.

In the meantime, I went over to our neighbors house to watch some World Cup action. Denmark was playing Japan. And even though Denmark controlled the play, Japan still managed to earn a two-goal lead, eventually winning 3-1. Their first two goals came off of beautiful, precisely kicked set pieces from outside the penalty area, the third a bit of individual flair.

With my very amateur eye, it seems to me that a lot of World Cup teams this year have taken on the personalities of their nations. Japan tonight was precise, sturdy, with a little but of wow thrown in. Last night, Germany was absolutely mechanical and strong. The United States, in the face of adversity, found a way to finish on top. The British seemed content to follow America. And the Brazilians might as well be dancing out on the field. On the flip side, the French were pathetic, generally in retreat, protesting against their leadership. The Italians couldn't seem to keep a good thing going. And the Greeks were just a complete mess.

Since Friday was a holiday, Richie decided to head out to the the villa and I joined him after the game. I wasn't in much of a mood to drink, but I still went out to be social. I only stayed out for a couple hours. I had to be rested for Friday.

As I usually do on holidays, I stayed at home while just about everyone else headed out to the plaza for the wreath-laying. Afterward, a colleague asked me why I didn't go today, and I told him it's always the same thing. Seeing a show once is nice, two is okay if the show is good. But this performance is fuckin boring and I don't want to walk out to the plaza, burn under the sun, only to see nothing new. My colleague laughed and agreed. Richie, always the good sport, went out. He as usual represented the muzungu house.

The days was pretty quiet. We knew this was the calm before the storm. Everyone was preparing food, resting up, getting ready for a long night ahead. In the meantime, I went on a hunt. We lent a colleague a fair amount of money a couple months ago and he had not even made an effort to return the money. For some reason, today was the day I wanted to collect. It might have to do with the fact that I was running low on cash for this month and we wanted to go out later.

Things started out passively. I sent Sozinho over to his house early in the morning to ask for the money. I knew that he had been paid yesterday, so there was no reason he shouldn't be able to come up with the money. Sozinho returned with the news that our colleague would come by in the afternoon.

But by the middle of the afternoon, he had failed to show up. This is the third month in a row that I sent Sozinho over there to collect and it's the third month in a row he has failed miserably. I was done with this. I decided to go over to his house myself. I came with the assumption that he was paid and I told him I knew he had the money. He responded by telling me that he hadn't collected his money yesterday and we should talk the the school accountant tonight. Okay. Seemed plausible.

So I went to the school accountant to describe the situation. “No, no, no. He picked up his money yesterday”. Not having collected the money, I could understand. Lying to my face, I can't understand and I will not tolerate. It was time to make him suffer. When our colleague came to the school to flip on the energy for the dormitories, Richie and I were waiting for him. “Let's take a walk to the accountant's house”, I told him. He knew that I had caught him in a lie. This undoubtedly was a walk of shame.

When we got to the house, our colleague told us to wait outside. He was clearly busted and now he was scrambling. When he came out of the house, he told us to wait just a little longer. With no shortage of anger in my voice, I asked him “How many more months?”. “No, no, I'll be back to tonight.” I told him he had until 8:00.

Now, it was just a matter of from whom he was going to borrow the 500 Meticais. Shockingly, just after 7 o'clock, he showed up with 500 Meticais for us. I thanked him for the money and dismissed him from our house. Our neighbor later told us that he felt ashamed for not getting us the money in less than half a year.

In the meantime, Richie and I were thrilled – almost amazed, actually – that we managed to get our money back. This, along with the holiday, called for a celebration. Over the next couple of hours, Richie and I proceeded to demolish a bottle of scotch. We know: we have very healthy drinking habits.

By the time I returned home just after midnight, I was at that perfect stage of drunkenness – ready to sleep but not spinning. Something else managed to keep me awake. Richie has had a sore throat for the last couple of days, and since we already share most things, he decided that he would share this with me as well. Asshole. I was in enough pain that it kept me up all night. A medical book we have told us that I should gargle warm water with salt, so I started that up. Our medical people told me to do the same thing.

Richie lit up the carvao early in the morning to heat up some water from tea. He then made an executive decision that we would have beans for lunch. I'm never one to say no to beans, so I went along with it. I made a run to the market to pick up some necessary items. That was the beginning of the end for me.

I was chugging along just fine for the morning, but by the time we hit lunch, I was exhausted. I could barely get through lunch. I knew a nap of epic proportion would fill my afternoon. The truth is, I can't even call is a nap; this was sleep from last night. I was gone from 1 until almost 5. I woke up groggy and with a sore throat again, but at least felt alive.

After a night of Mexican food, it was on to our entertainment: Ghana against the USA. As I looked at the groups before the tournament, I thought it would come to this. So I went with Ghana as my team for the tournament, even though it meant I would have to root against home. I predicted a 2-1 extra time victory for the Ghanaian squad.

Ghana played fast and loose in the first half and it seemed like the U.S. was feeling the pressure of the situation. Five minutes in, Ghana had a 1-0 lead. The United States' transition defense was absolutely horrible. Ghana clearly played a better first half, but in the second half, it looked like they had the weight of a continent on their shoulders. They were just begging to hold on to that lead, but Landon Donovan changed things with a penalty kick goal.

Ninety minutes in, my prediction was still possible. Tied at one, I needed Ghana to come through. I didn't have to wait long. Three minutes in, Gyan struck a beautiful goal. 2-1 Ghana. Another 27 minutes of extra time later, the game mercifully came to an end. I could breathe again. For the second consecutive World Cup, Ghana put an end to the Americans' dreams.

For now, Ghana stays alive, and they are carrying all of Africa with them.

All of the excitement from the England-United States game effectively came to an end immediately after the game. While the US fans were thrilled with the tie and the English were all pissed off with the fact that they couldn't pull out a victory, it seemed like everyone was a little disappointed that there was no winner. There was no loser. Just 90 minutes that resolved nothing really. Aside from a small fight involving a couple drunkards outside the stadium, everything remained fairly calm, probably the result of the tie.

Despite the late night -- we didn't get back to the campsite until around midnight -- we were up and moving early Sunday morning. We walked over to the main site where a television was situated. All of the talk was about the botched save of the English goalkeeper. Every time they replayed the goal, we could actually hear the English fans cringe. And every time the English fans buried their heads into their hands, us American fans just laughed a little bit.

Our glory would be short-lived. Not because the taste of victory (or not losing) would be fleeting -- no, that would remain a good while. The only thing short-lived was our time in South Africa. We had bus tickets out of Pretoria in the evening and we had no reason to stick around the campsite. We stuck around for breakfast and headed down to the minibus station.

One of the things that Richie and I have really come to like about traveling internationally is that almost nobody speaks Portuguese. If we want to discuss something secretly, we can just do it in Portuguese and nobody would know what we're talking about. It's very convenient when trying to decide how much to pay a taxi driver or how to abandon some guy annoying us. You would think that in Rustenburg, we wouldn't run into this problem.

We knew our secret language wasn't so secret when we heard a man -- literally one seat behind ours -- ask for a "Fanta Laranja" instead of a "Fanta Orange". We had to laugh. He was a Mozambican guy who has been in Rustenburg for fifteen years as a taxi driver. He still can't speak English, which is not indicative of how little he has learned, but of how unnecessary it is. He has learned other native tongues in South Africa -- Zulu and Setswana -- which apparently are more than sufficient for getting through life in Rustenburg

On extraordinarily smooth roads, we made it to Pretoria with no problem. It's a shame our bus wouldn't depart for another six hours. There wasn't much sense in trying to walk around Pretoria. We each had huge backpacks and we were both quite tired from a late night. We meandered our way into the closest bar with a television to settle in for the day's football games. There was a huge temptation to try to go the Ghana - Serbia game in Pretoria, but we would probably miss our bus back to Maputo. So, we settled for watching Ghana defeat Serbia 1-0 on a penalty kick.

The bus ride returning to Maputo was about as comfortable as the ride heading to Pretoria. If anything, it was a little easier knowing the Maputo was the final destination. On the way into Pretoria, we didn't know if Pretoria or Rustenburg was the end. That was enough to keep me up for the entire ride. On this ride, I was able to sleep a little bit.

Once we arrived in Maputo, we only had one thing on our minds: a shower. The campsite where we stayed had a running water shower, but it was cold water. Paired with the near-freezing weather, we opted for stinkiness over cleanliness. The shower at the hotel in Maputo was hot, almost to the point of discomfort. Between the two of us, we used about an hour of hot water. It made the fairly expensive price of the hotel worth it. The rest of the morning and part of the afternoon was spent in the Peace Corps office, messing around on the internet, talking to Peace Corps staff about the game.

After a later than usual delicious shwarma lunch, we headed back to the hotel to relax. We were both wiped out from thirteen hours on the bus and the knowledge that we would have about the same thing tomorrow to Vilanculos. We each indulged in another hot shower and passed out quite quickly. I was really hoping to make it to the end of Italy's opening game, but my body knew better.

We were on the move around 6:00 Tuesday morning. It was a pretty late start for trying to head to Vilanculos, but buses usually leave up until 7:30 or 8:00. We may have been lucky. The bus we got on left at 7:38. It might have been the last bus to leave for the day. If it wasn't the last bus, it was probably the slowest and certainly the smelliest. We had the good fortune of sitting next to a baby who cried for the entire trip up, probably from the ocean of diarrhea flowing from her back-end. We thought that she would eventually tire out and fall asleep. She did -- with thirty minutes to go left in the trip.

There was only one hope for saving an otherwise horrifying travel day: pizza. Exhausted, there was no way we were going to walk the couple of miles to get pizza. They would have to deliver it to us. Normally, New York Pizza delivers, but on this night, they weren't delivering. Well, this day is wrecked. We cooked up some rice and a can of beans and surrendered for the day.

Without pizza, there was only one victory to draw from the day. This trip up north, barring a major medical incident, was the last time that we would travel north up the EN1. As we begin to wind down our service -- a mere five months to go -- we're going to start doing things for the last time. It's a nice feeling.

Before heading back to Machanga on Wednesday, we had some very important shopping to do. We were on the hunt for two main items: sliced Parmalat cheese and boneless chicken breast. In one store, we found both! Yes, we spent almost a thousand Meticais for these two items, but this is an investment into our health and happiness. As an added bonus, the market also had avocado, but since they are now out of season and imported from South Africa, they cost an obscene twenty Mets. Again, happiness trumps thrift. We would have delicious Mexican food tonight.

The only trick to buying frozen food is getting it back to Machanga in a relatively frozen state. Especially with chicken, which we really can't have defrosted, we were a little concerned. Thankfully, the chicken survived the ride. It wasn't solid frozen, but it was still frozen enough. Either way, we are going to eat some of it tonight, and freeze the rest for future meals.

As if things weren't going great already, I had six packages waiting for me at home. If I had known that would have four bricks of Velveeta sent by family and friends, I wouldn't have invested a huge chunk of money into a huge chunk of cheese. We are officially stocked. Of course, we will probably have to buy cheese next month.

As expected, the Mexican food we cooked up was delicious. It was a nice way to transition back into life in Machanga. Under normal circumstances, we would entertain ourselves with a movie, but we were too tired to sit around. We crashed fast.

Even though we both slept well, there was no way that we were going to teach on Thursday. We're both mentally checked out for the week. Richie has the good fortune of missing only one day. I'd have to cancel Thursday anyway to balance out my classes, but Friday is going to be nixed also. Thirty-one hours of traveling by bus over three days will put a person out of commission for a little while. Plus I have absolutely no lesson plans. Things will get going again next week.

There was still plenty to do to keep busy. We had a ton of magazines that arrived in one of the packages. We could now catch up on news from January. Tragic. Still, it's nice to read some cogent English writing. I also started putting together a document that we need to turn in when we check out of here. The Volunteers that follow us will be handed a small report about our site. This was a document that we did not get, so we had to figure out everything for ourselves. Much like leaving the house as it is, instead of emptying it out, we want to leave the next Volunteers with enough information to make their lives a little easier.

Alexis swung by our house right around lunch time. Between her trip to Beira and our trip to South Africa, we hadn't seen each other in quite a while. It was nice to catch up with her and she was the beneficiary of our cooking. The place where she lives cooks the same crappy fish and xima everyday. She was thrilled to get some potatoes and eggs.

Late in the afternoon, we walked over to the market to pick up some bread and spaghetti. Our tomatoes are already being harvested, so we were kind of pigeon-holed into making tomato sauce. On the road from the bread place to the market, we came across three or four cars. In a town where two cars is a lot, four is downright suspicious. The muzungu invasion had begun. At least fifteen white people rolled up into Machanga. What are they doing here? Missionary work. I made the mistake of asking why they chose Machanga. They answered, quite frankly, that "God led them here". If I were them, I'd be pissed off at God for leading them here of all places. In a place that already has a Catholic mission and huge number of believers in animism or traditional religions, they will be hard-pressed to accomplish anything.

We returned home right around dinner time and promptly cooked up out spaghetti. We also made garlic bread which, topped with some tomato sauce, was delicious. I was really hoping to stay awake through the France - Mexico game, but I didn't have it in me. It was apparent that recovery would require at least one more day. I grabbed a magazine and read for a bit before crashing.

In spite of a good night of sleep, I was still not fully recovered from all of our travels early in the week. I'd like to blame this on jet lag, but there was not a single plane used in our thirty-one hours of traveling. I think we can just call this travel exhaustion. Magazines in hand, we passed the morning reading until lunch time.

Immediately after lunch, we put some beans on the stove. Whenever we cook beans, we never quite cook them all the way through, and they are never as soft as the beans Mozambicans cook. We may have learned to become patient here, but when it comes to food, we are still not nearly as patient as they are. Today, though, we were committed to cooking them to completion. We would cook them most of the way through in the afternoon and finish them off at night.

In the interim, we had a big soccer game to watch. The U.S. was matched up against Slovenia. This should have been a gimme game for the Americans, the game that would vault them into the knock-out phase of the tournament. Unfortunately, nobody told the American defense to show up for the game. By the end of the first half, Slovenia -- a nation of fewer people than San Diego -- was man-handling the Americans and holding a two goal lead. This game was effectively over.

Instead of sticking around for the second half, a few of us headed over to the villa to drink away our sorrows. By the time we got there, however, the Americans had put a goal on the board. Whatever their coach said to them at halftime was clearly effective because they were playing like a better team in the second half. Late in the game, the Americans hung a second goal on the board. They appeared to have won the game with a late goal, but a phantom foul was called. Everyone on the American side was enraged, some louder than others.

In the time the Americans complained, the television station replayed the disallowed goal at least three times. The argument that using instant replay, regardless of the sport, would add significant time to the games is a ridiculous. I would rather sit around for the extra couple of minutes, knowing that the call was correct, than have some referee or umpire fuck up the result.

In truth, though, I'm happy that the Americans didn't win the game. Yes, they worked hard in the second half, but you don't win games by only playing one half. They should have learned this in the Confederations Cup last year, when they only showed up for the first half against Brazil. No matter how good the team is, you need to play for the full time. Luckily for the Americans, the English side failed to show up against Algeria. The Americans remain in second place in the group on goal differential. The still control their own destiny, though. If they defeat Algeria in the last game of group play, they'll advance.

Machanga seemed to be dead Saturday morning, which was strange considering a final felt alive. The couple days of relaxation did me well. A few good nights of sleep finally got me up to speed, just in time for people to disappear from here. This was fine by me. Since the arrival of packages on Wednesday, we have plenty of reading material to keep our minds occupied. Finally, around lunch time, people started to come out of the woodwork.

Early in the afternoon, Richie headed to the villa to go drinking with some colleagues. My attention, however, was drawn to a football game of great interest for me: Ghana against Australia. Ghana is my team in this tournament. I have my connection to Ghana through my study abroad experience during college and I think they can make a huge splash in this World Cup. They are the youngest team in the tournament, but they have great players. I think, in all seriousness, they can go as far as the semi-finals.

I am also pulling for Ghana because they seem to go against the popular belief that every goal scored has to be a work of art. More than the ridiculous diving that occurs every game and the fact a ton of games end in boring draws, this is what drives me nuts about soccer. Players seem to want every goal to be gorgeous, even at the expense of passing up a decent shot. The Ghanaians, practical as they are, believe that the prettiest shots are the ones that go in the net. I agree with this thinking. A shot on goal from distance is a lot better than no shot on goal from ten yards away.

Ghana's goaltender, by far the weak link in the team, failed to handle a shot and Australia netted a goal to put them ahead. Ghana fought back to tie it at one, and seemed to be in control of the game, doing everything but scoring. Late in the game, Ghana's defense fell asleep and Australia had a shot from point-blank range, but the goaltender made up for his early mistake with a spectacular save. The game ended in a draw at one.

Richie came back from the villa in time for dinner. He was eating fish that Sozinho cooked, leaving me to eat some of the food that arrived in packages. He, along with a colleague, was going to head back out to the villa, and managed to rope me into it also. I didn't really want to go out. Back to back nights is a little excessive and I was feeling particularly uninspired. I still went, like a good soldier, drank my beer, and came home. It wasn't worth the while. I would have much rather been in bed, which is exactly where I ended up within minutes of arriving home.

I'm going to do everyone a favor and skip over the vast majority of this week. From Sunday until Wednesday, I made my way down from Vilanculos to Maputo. We were scheduled to leave Maputo for Pretoria on an overnight bus. We're not really supposed to travel on the roads here at night. But given the choice between being on the roads at night or being in unfamiliar South Africa at night, we figured that driving was the better option.

For the first time since we've been here, we took a luxury bus. I must say: if I could do it all over again, I would take these buses everywhere. Yes, they are more expensive, but they are far more comfortable. People weren't crammed into every nook and cranny. Plus with the overnight hotel, we didn't have to pay for a hotel. That said, neither of us slept at all.

We arrived, red-eyed, in Pretoria around 6:30. The first thing we noticed was the Pretoria was freezing. Pretoria sits at a pretty high elevation. In the dead of winter -- as in, right now -- it gets under ten degrees Celsius. Flip flops were a bad choice. The second thing we noticed was that Pretoria is awfully dark at 6:30 in the morning, much darker than Maputo at 6:30. We thought about it for a second and it makes sense. Pretoria and Maputo, though separated by a good couple hundred miles, share a time zone. The sun makes its way up early off the Indian Ocean but doesn't rise over Pretoria until much later.

So there we were, in a city we've never been in, and it's still somewhat dark. The only thing that we really had going for us is that just about everybody in the area speaks English. Though a little tentative to stop to ask for help, we were left little choice. Everybody was extraordinarily helpful. As it turned out, we only had to walk about five minutes to get a mini-bus.

If weather and darkness were the first things we noticed, than the third thing we noticed were the roads. Or rather, we didn't notice our mini-bus shaking after every single pothole. Why? you ask. Because on the main highways, there were no potholes. The highways -- with proper overpasses and offramps and on-ramps and all -- are maintained immaculately. The ride between Pretoria and Rustenburg that should have taken an hour took...an hour. I could get used to this.

Once in town, we had three priorities: finding food, finding some American flag gear, and getting to our beds. The second of these priorities was shockingly simple. We walked passed a Chinese-run store that had American flag bandanas. Absolutely, we had to buy those. Then, miraculously, we came across a burger place called Yanky's. The place was covered in red, white, and blue, and besides wanted some delicious cheeseburgers, we felt obligated to go to a place that displayed such American pride. The burger, by the way, was phenomenal. It was ground meat and a real burger bun, two delicacies apparently foreign to Mozambique.'

The most difficult part of the trip -- of the whole trip, really -- was getting from the town to our hostel. The website said it was just one kilometer from town. Problem is, Rustenburg is not small, and there were no directions or signs on how to get there. We called the people and found a very nice taxi driver named Thuli. We put the two of them on the phone together and we got things worked out.

The place where we stayed -- Rustenburg Safari Camp -- was, I don't know, interesting. First of all, there was not a single sign for the place. It was buried way in the middle of a small-game reserve and they were extraordinarily disorganized. Instead of having a shared six-person dorm tent, we had a two-person tent with small bed mats. This was fine by us. I was just in no mood to deal with this shit, considering that I had been up for twenty-nine consecutive hours when we arrived. If I had any energy left in me, I probably would have snapped.

If we were smart, we would have napped. But Richie and I aren't very smart. Instead, we decided to rally and went down to the Fan Fare in town. Every host city in South Africa has set up an area with a monster TV and stage so people can watch games together. Also of note was a beer garden serving delicious Castle Lager.

Thousands of people clad in yellow and green showed up to watch Bafana Bafana -- South Africa's team name -- play against Mexico, a pretty good team. With the exception of the last ten minutes, Mexico absolutely dominated the first half. South Africa rode the momentum into the second half and, with a pinpoint accurate shot to the top-right corner, scored the opening goal. The place exploded. Dancing commenced. Fans blew vavaluzas (remarkably loud horns) to the point that everyone's ears hurt. But no one cared: South Africa was ahead. If only they could have held on. South Africa surrendered a goal soon after, and the game ended in a tie at one. Still, most everyone was satisfied with the tie.

Also of note during this time: being the idiots that we are, Richie and I went to the game decked out in our America gear. This drew us some fair attention. Before the game, while we were introducing ourselves to beer, a film crew wanted to ask us about the US-England game. That was cool. Then minutes later, a gorgeous woman from Al-Jazeera Americas also wanted to interview us. They managed to find the two people at this game who know almost nothing about soccer. We bullshitted our way through it.

On the way back, there was a movement to go to McDonald's. If you ask me, McDonald's is not the best fast-food. There are at least four other fast-food places that I would prefer. But here was McDonald's, and I was hungry. I once again indulged in a cheeseburger (are you noticing a theme?). If McDonald's is that good every time you go twenty months without, I think I'll wait until 2012 to go again.

To say that we slept well, inspite of the frigid conditions, would be a massive understatement. And it was a good thing. We had a huge day ahead of us on Saturday. Our first priority was to get more America gear. A simple flag bandana wouldn't cut it. I got myself one of those scarves that soccer fans always have. Richie went big and got a hat, t-shirt, and glasses. After shopping, I was hoping to get some money from the bank, but a strange thing happened: my ATM card wasn't working. I tried bank after bank but everything failed. Shitty. Thankfully, Richie pulled out a ton of money, allowing me to bum loans.

After watching the first game of the day -- a win for South Korea against Greece -- Richie and I, along with about sixty other people, started to make our way toward the stadium. It's a good thing we left when we did. The cars could only take ten people at a time and the traffic was starting to build up.

We got to the stadium around 5:30 for the 8:30 match between England and the United States. Of all the opening round games, this is probably the second best game, with only the Portugal-Brazil match out-doing it. England fans showed up in huge numbers, but the U.S. side would not go unheard. About a quarter of the 40,000 ticket holders were Americans. While we waited for the game to started, we gorged ourselves on hot dogs and Budweiser. How American.

Prior to arriving in South Africa, our friends told us that we had good seats. They were the last row of the stadium, but they were still amazing. The stadium was not huge -- 18 rows in the first bowl, 27 in the second bowl. If you're going to be in the last row of the stadium, you want that stadium to be in Rustenburg. The weather cooperated with us, not quite dipping to ten degrees. We would have to drink plenty of beer to keep us warm.

The game started right on time, and it did not start in a promising manner for the Americans. Five minutes in, the entire defense pretty much stopped playing, allowing England to score. Watching England come down the field is a little like watching the Red Wings skate up the ice or the Patriots march down toward the endzone. You feel like every time they crack midfield, they could score.

The American side appeared unfazed by the goal. If anything, they became more focused. The defense stood up nicely and they were getting plenty of chances on the offensive side. Finally, forty minutes into the game, Clint Dempsey fired a shot go from forever away. The ball hit the English goalkeeper in the hands, then trickled into the net. I don't think the ball even hit the net: the ball barely made it across the line. Either way, the game was tied at one, and it would remain there until time expired.

Under normal circumstances, most people would be unhappy with tie. The only people who were unhappy were all the English fans. They were huge favorites. No doubt, they should have won. American fans, on the other hand, were all thrilled with a tie. Of course a win would have been great -- a second half shot off the post robbed victory -- but we were thrilled that we could hang with the English.

In all, the whole World Cup experience was pretty incredible. Watching the South Africa game with South Africans actually gave me chills. It was probably the best part of the weekend for me. We met a lot of cool people from around the world, including other Peace Corps Volunteers from South Africa, Namibia and Botswana. And in general, everyone was in good spirits. I don't know if I'll ever make it to another World Cup, but I'm very happy that I made it to this one.

Riding on full stomachs and rum and cokes, the three of us managed to stay up until 3:30 in the morning. We probably could have willed ourselves to stay up until the sun rose over the islands, but it wasn't worth it. The other two guys had travel days albeit short ones.

Most of my plans on Sunday revolved around the computer. Given that the Vil girls have internet at their house -- and it's free -- I thought it best to take advantage of it. My computer hasn't received any Windows updates since I revived it in January. When the time came, there were twenty-four updates necessary. While I was at it, I updated my anti-virus. And just for kicks, I started looking at prices and itineraries for flights home. I know, it's still six months away. Don't judge me.

The sun never really made it out on this Sunday. Combined with the facts that we're almost in the dead of winter and there was an off-shore breeze, it was not just dark but fuckin cold. Good thing I didn't have to go anywhere in town today. Otherwise, I may have been judged rather harshly for wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. From the time I went up until the time I went to bed, this was my gear.

In the afternoon, the sweats were a luxury. In the evening, they were an absolute necessity. I sat outside with my computer catching up with people from home. One of my buddies from home, who is now a Volunteer in Cameroon, happened to be online. He's heading down to South Africa for World Cup as well, but we will be on opposite sides of the country. During a conversation with another person, I managed to score a General Admission ticket to the U2 show in Oakland sometime next spring. I've been to four U2 shows and never had floor tickets. I'll rearrange my life to get to this one. And while I was outside, my family called. They were wrapping up a glorious trip to Hawaii while I was wrapped up in cold-weather clothing. For an uneventful day, that's a lot of things to happen.

Since I got a whole four hours of sleep last night, I was banking on a good night of sleep. Those plans, however, we're scratched -- literally. Simba, the Vil girls' dog, scratched at the door every half hour, either wanting to go out or come in. Every time he scratched, I vowed I wouldn't open the door, but every time, he just kept scratching at the door. So I got up every time.

This wasn't the best way to start a travel day, but from there, things actually went almost perfectly. I cleaned up the house and headed into town to buy some things for Machanga. I was hoping to buy some meat and cheese to store in our neighbor's refrigerator, but most of the stores were closed for one reason or another. Still, I managed to buy Rice Krispies (yup) and some avocados. I paid double for those suckers, but I don't care. I feel like I'm stealing from someone getting these avocados. Then, there was a new chapa running from Vilanculos. I know I vowed off of these chapas, but I figured what the hell.

How nice was this chapa? The seats were split up two on one side, one on the other like those terrible regional jets that American Airlines flies from San Diego to San Jose. There was no fold-down middle seat, as there usually is, so I had a ton of space to myself. And apparently, the car still had its shocks because it drove remarkably smoothly. It was such a quiet ride that I was asleep for almost all of it.

Things only got better from there. I got in a canoe right away and then got a ride on an ox cart from the river to villa. With the avocados, I was hoping the town would have meat. The butcher had killed a cow right before I arrived. He didn't even have the meat in the freezer: he just went outside and cut me off half a kilo. That's what I call fresh meat.

Up until dinner, the rest of the afternoon was pretty calm. I ate a little something before preparing for dinner. Except for the tortillas (we ran out of flour), the food was delicious. At some point, one of my best friends from home unexpectedly called, so we spent a little time catching up. Other than that, our night was spent watching a couple episodes of "Chappelle's Show" and by 9:00 I was down for the count.

Whatever nap I got in the chapa did not help me catch up on sleep because I was out cold all night until 6:30 or 7 in the morning. It was a good night's sleep. Refreshed, and already with an idea for a lesson plan, I wanted to wake up my head with a couple Kakuros. Today was one of those days where the light bulb went on and everything made sense. I finished two of them in just under an hour.

I went out for a bread run mid-morning -- or rather, I tried to go on a bread run mid-morning, until I got roped into doing some tech work. One of the teachers was trying to print a document from his laptop, but it just wasn't going. I transferred everything from his laptop to another computer and everythnig worked fine. He just laughed at how quickly I worked: "You dance on the computer." Yea, I have 19 years of experience. It goes a long way. Work complete, I was able to make my bread run.

While I sat around the house, fleshing out my lesson plan, the physics teacher came over and requested to use my time slot for teaching. I initially wasn't thrilled about this, knowing that I'd have to reschedule my lesson for another time. But eventually, again, the light bulb came on: I can combine my classes not have to reschedule anything. It really doesn't matter to me if I'm teaching to 60 or 120 people at once. This is a victory.

Class went well. My work for the day was done in 45 minutes. The fact that I even had work today was kind of shocking. Today was Children's Day, whatever that means. Most holidays here are legitimate holidays. I'm fine celebrating Women's Day because women run this country. I'm fine celebrating Independence Day and Worker's Day. But Children's Day? Children's Day? What have children done to earn a holiday? This is just another excuse for the parents -- specifically the fathers -- of said children to get drunk. In spite of this "holiday", most of my students were around. They've come to realize that you are not a child if you are between the ages of 18 and 25, as most of my students are.

The hours after class were marked only by shivering. By 3:00, most people had started drinking, but we just weren't up for it. We're going big this weekend and next week, so it's probably better for us to take this one off. We got invited out, and we probably would have had a beer or two, but as usual, our colleagues couldn't get their shit together, so we just left. We made our run to the market, specifically looking for dinner food. By the time we got back to the house at 5:30, it was nearly dark. Only a small sliver of orange sky remained in the west.

Richie was not a good mood tonight and Sozinho through him into an utter rage when Sozinho tried to tell him how to fry fish. It's not difficult to fry anything: put in oil, then take out of oil. And as I've heard from Richie many times, he does not like being told how to do something. He ate his fish and shut himself off to the world. It's for the better: he probably would have gone on a killing spree had he not locked himself in his room.

By the time I was awake, Richie was back to his regular jovial self, in spite of the fact that he had seven classes on Wednesday. I, on the other hand, was only scheduled for two classes, but I knew better than that. Now that we are in the dead of winter, it is nearly impossible to teach classes on Wednesday. For one, the classrooms get too dark by the time I have to teach the last period. More critically, so many of my students have to go across the river before sunset. When you add on the 30-45 minutes it takes to get to the river, that pretty much reduces my ability to teach the at 4:45. So my new game plan is this: I'm only planning for one period on Wednesdays, which effectively means I'm only teaching one class on Thursdays also

Of course, on this day, one of my students came over to tell me that I could knock out my class early. The teacher who was supposed to use that hour wasn't around. I'm always happy to get my class done earlier. Teaching at 2:00 is a lot better than waiting all the way until 4:00. And my students are just as eager to finish classes early. If they are good at anything, it's letting me know when I can teach at an earlier hour.

Today, however, they were particularly good at another thing: participating. This year, and especially this last month or so, I've been moving away from grammar and going toward vocabulary development. I'm trying to get them to stretch their minds out, to get beyond "How are you? I am fine". I realize that this is difficult, but there are enough cognates that they should be able to pull out some vocabulary. The letters group was on their game today.

One of my questions was about different types of government. One student, by himself, pulled out the word "autocracy", which is the kind of thing he should be able to do, considering that the word in Portuguese is "autocracia". I asked him to give an explanation, and he gave one...in Portuguese. I paid close attention to the words he used, and all of them were words he should have known. I told him to think about his definition in English and I'd come back to him. A couple minutes later, he had a sufficient definition. He's going to do just fine on the National Exam in November.

That class actually left me feeling pretty good about myself. I rode that momentum into planning a computer class. There is a group of teachers here who have had computers now for about a year, so they already know most of the very basics. They know how to write, open, and save documents. They all know how to play music. But there are some very practical things that sometime require a little extra push. My job is to give that push. The lesson will be about how to format an exam. So on big paper, I wrote out a mock exam for them to type out. It will be their job, with my help, to reproduce this document.

We got cooking on the early end because we were cooking beans. Just as the beans finished cooking, around 7:00, I got called into the director's office to help print a document. The printers here have never been great, but they usually get the job done one way or the other. It seems, however, that they no longer want to print. There are plenty of things I'm good at when it comes to computers, but I'm completely in the dark with printers. There's not a lot I can do repair a printer.

Eventually, I gave up on the printers and came back home to eat. The beans, usually good anyway, were made especially delicious with the addition of some cheese and and avocado. Then again, you could put cheese and avocado on a pile of dirt and rocks, and it would probably be just as delicious. While we ate, we watched "Fearless". I'm not usually one for kung fu movies, but this was pretty cool. I did some reading and turned the lights out around 10:00. It sucks having to roll out of bed to turn out the lights. This is the price we have to pay, I guess.

Following a good night of sleep, I was mentally prepared to work Thursday morning. I gathered my teaching materials and went over to the teachers' room to set up my things. On the way, I ran into a couple of teachers who would be on the receiving end of the class. I told them yesterday the class would be at 8 n the morning. They didn't look ready to learn at 7:55, but by five minutes after eight, I had five teachers in the room. Everyone in there except for one teacher had a fair amount of experience, so I didn't need to baby them through the basics.

The task for them was simple, but it required them to know a lot of things: how to center a document, use caps lock, and numbering. What was new for them was how to maximize their space on a page. Since the 12th Grade National Exams are multiple choice, many teachers have moved to this format for their own exams. When I see their exams, I notice that they almost always use a new line for each option, even though more than one option can fit in a line. Along with the tab key -- a new phenomenon for everyone -- the formatted an exam with one answer per line, two answers per line, and four answers per line. There was one benefit of having a total newcomer: I could compare his work with theirs. Even though they've only had their computers for less than a year, their basic knowledge was evident. Now it's about how to manipulate the program to make it do what they want.

I didn't have much to do following class. My lesson -- the one that went so well yesterday -- was already planned. All I had to do for the rest of the morning was prep for lunch. We made our now regular move toward cheese omelets. We have determined that the Velveeta omelet is the superior form of egg. Until someone can prove to me otherwise, cheese omelets rule the day.

Given that my lesson went so well yesterday, I had high expectations for this class. What I received was nothing short of painful. I've dealt with dental procedures that were more comfortable. Whatever participation I had yesterday wasn't there today. In terms of being in the classroom, there are few things more frustrating than asking for participation -- and knowing they have the vocabulary to do it -- and not getting it. I'm happy to play the waiting game. I'll ask the same question over and over until I get the answers.

That class certainly made me want to hit the bottle. Good thing Richie and a colleague were in the mood to do the same. We started out with a couple little bottles of wine. By the end of the afternoon, we had shifted locations to the town. We stayed out fairly late -- just past 9:00 -- knocking off a case of beer over the couple of hours. Just another Thursday night in Machanga. We got home and with the power of 24-hour energy, we cooked up some dinner before crashing.

Things were very quiet on Friday morning. As we've come to expect, the bell was run at 7:00 to start school, then at 7:45 to mark the end of first period. But outside of that, there wasn't a lot of noise, in both the literal and figurative sense. There weren't many people taking, many students walking around, many teachers going to class. Things were just sort of not happening. It made sense: a whole group of teachers were not at school.

Now, why would twenty-some teachers randomly disappear on a regular Friday? The "Chama de Unidade", of course. The Chama de Unidade is an Olympic torch-like flame that is being brought from the north of the country to Maputo. I don't know why this flame is being busted out now, but apparently it's a big deal for people. Everyone was up early preparing to cook, preparing not to go to school.

For me, this is just another fake holiday, another reason to cancel class because it just happened to occur on a Friday, another reason for the men to get hammered while the women do the cooking. School wasn't even officially cancelled. The bell just stopped ringing about 9:00. By then, nobody was at school. Everybody had just given up.

That's fine by me. I had some things to do in the afternoon, mostly packing for our trip. We're going to be gone for a good while, so I wanted to make sure I had everything. This would not be a good trip to forget a passport or a bankcard. I know that I put everything in my bag, but I still probably checked fifteen times to make sure they hadn't wandered away.

Around 4:00, a couple colleagues wanted to go out to a town called Chinhuque, about 12 kilometers away. I really didn't want to go, but whatever, I didn't have anything else to do. I guess that's what made the afternoon so strange. He drove us out to the villa, and then we had to wait for him for an hour. It's an hour I would have spent just sitting on the patio, but instead I was sitting in a car. Instead of me wasting my time, someone else was wasting my time, and that kinda put me in a bad mood.

Then it took us almost an hour for us to cover the twelve kilometers, whcih is just absurd. Fed up, I just closed my eyes and slept for the second half of the ride. The place where they took us was what could only be described as a "business hotel". You could pay 350 Meticais to spend the night, or 150 Meticais to get some business done. Great. Skeezy. The only upside for the whole afternoon was that we didn't have to pay for beer. Our colleagues bought them for us. Small victory there.

By the time we got back, I was at a level of pissed off I haven't reached in a long time. I rarely get angry. It just doesn't happen much anymore. I feel like there's no a lot to be angry about. But the confluence of having my time being wasted, being hungry, being tired, being drunk, and coming home to an empty house with the lights on pushed me over the edge. I wanted no part of any activity or any person. Richie, recognizing that I was about to go on a killing spree, left the house quickly for the villa. I made my spaghetti, ate as quickly as possibly, and went to bed. It was 8:30. I hoped a night of sleep would do me good.

I woke up feeling refresh, alive, without a bit of anger in me. Part of it was probably the good night's sleep. Most of it, I think, was knowing that I was leaving Machanga for a good long time. We were on the road to South Africa for our World Cup game. The travel day was an average one. We got an absolutely horrible ride to Inhassoro, but after a short wait, we got a Land Cruiser to take us all the way from Inhassoro to Vilanculos.

The rest of the day was very routine, at least for Vilanculos. We caught up with colleagues, got drunk, ate pizza -- all the important things. And as has come to be the trend, three of us stayed up late into the evening, discussing all topics. It's three of us guys. Aside from Richie, they are the only guys in the area. And they have good sports knowledge, so that makes for fun evenings.

I'll be away from my computer this week, on the road to USA vs. England. I'll be back in a couple weeks.

One of the benefits of only having classes only in the afternoon is that I rarely have to set an alarm here. The only times I have to hear my phone go off at some ungodly hour are the times that I'm traveling very long distance. Or when my family forgets what the time difference is between California and Machanga. Sometimes, the hour is truly unforgivable. Feeling my phone vibrate at 3:17 in the morning is never permissible (you know who you are). 6:30 is more reasonable. That was how this last full week of May began: with a phone call from my parents. I feel like it had been longer than usual since I heard from them. It probably wasn't any longer than usual. Regardless, it was nice to talk to them for a little bit.

I was alone for the first half of Sunday. Richie woke up early and started heading back to Machanga. I had some work to do, so I figured it would be best to get it done before he got back. Correcting exams, usually a hassle, flew by. They are awfully easy to correct when it's only ten questions multiple choice. It took me maybe 40 minutes to get through 100 exams. As long as I was in the mood for work, I might as well pop the grades into my computer.

Richie made it home around 1:00 which worked out quite nicely. I managed to hold off lunch until then. It wouldn't have been the biggest of inconveniences for him if he had to cook for himself, but that doesn't make sense on a lot of levels, especially when I can just wait an hour. After the travel day, Richie said he “needed a win”, so we made omelets.

Given that I was up earlier than I expected, and I worked for a good chunk of the morning, I knew I would be in for a nap during the afternoon. I also knew that I would have to be careful to not over-nap. I love to sleep as much as the next person, but if I sleep too much in the afternoon, I won't be able to sleep at all when I'm supposed to sleep. Thirty minutes wouldn't be enough and an hour might be too much, so I split the difference.

The forty-five minute nap was perfect. I woke up a little groggy, but I was sure I wouldn't be rolling around in bed all night. Richie and I both wanted to get moving a bit, so we headed to the market late in the afternoon on the hunt for food. We didn't find anything promising. Another failed market run; another night of spaghetti for me.

A couple weeks ago, Richie picked up “Forrest Gump” from a colleague. He wanted to watch it tonight. Little did he know that he was putting on quite possibly my favorite movie. We were interrupted briefly by a phone call from my brother, but it was a welcome phone call. I hadn't spoken to my brother in what felt like forever. Following the brief intermission, we finished up the movie. I always shed a tear or two when Forrest talks to Jenny's grave underneath the big oak tree. I warned Richie. On cue, a single tear came out. Names were called, as expected. Nice to know I can count on some things in Machanga.

Our energy went out around 9:15. I don't want to jinx anything, but this is possibly the last week that someone will be turning the lights out for us. Let's hope so. When they said we'd have energy in June, we thought it would be June of 2009. We're hoping for the best, but expecting the very worst.

The weather was absolutely perfect as we went to bed, but the temperature dropped precipitously over the course of the night. I woke up once and definitely felt cold, but it wasn't cold enough to drag me out of bed. Around 5, I woke up again having to go to the bathroom, and this time I was cold. Cold enough to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt for a couple more hours of sleep. I didn't believe it would get cold last year, and I'm still a little incredulous, but god it's nice.

The sweatpants stayed for most of the morning, until I realized that we desperately needed a market run. As I am the one with Monday's off, the responsibility fell to me. We can get away with a lot of things here, but there's no way I can get away with wearing sweatpants to the market. I threw on some more appropriate gear and made the rounds. While I was out, Richie started lunch. The timing worked out perfectly. I got back with fresh bread just as the eggs were going into the pan.

My day to that point was fairly successful, and my string of successes continued into the afternoon. I got the dishes done. Even though Sozinho should be the person doing this, I know that if I don't do them, we won't have dry dishes until 6:45 or 7 at night, and neither Richie nor I have any interest in eating dinner at 8:00. So earlier dinner will be good.

My good fortune ended there. I tried to nap but utterly failed. I really had no reason to nap. I wasn't tired and I got plenty of sleep last night; this was just greedy. I failed at a couple kakuros – nothing new there. I spent some time reading about the utter failure of my beloved San Jose Sharks. Way to get swept, idiots.

But my biggest failure of all was yet to come. Our small pan has been in dire need of a new handle and I thought today would be the day. I got a sharp a knife and a decently sized branch and started whittling. I had the thing shaped perfectly, but as I tried to thread the screw through, it broke. Argh! If nothing else, it killed off most of the afternoon, so I guess it wasn't a complete failure.

We needed a win. More specifically, I needed a win – and stir fry usually is a point that we can count on. We had some bell pepper remaining from Richie's trip which goes a long way in our food. And with delicious Kikkoman soy sauce, we were happy.

For our entertainment, we watched “Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs”. It's a cartoon, so I was expecting something on the mediocre end, but cartoons/animation are good these days. “Up” got rave reviews (really want to see it...) so this couldn't be that terrible. It started out a little on the slow side, but it was funny in a stupid kind of way. Our lights went out just after nine, a little on the early side these days, but whatever. It makes no difference to us.

I didn't wait until I was cold to go to sweatpants. I went to bed prepared tonight. I was quite satisfied when I woke up in the middle of the night and I was cold, but not shivering. This is how I like to sleep.

Tuesday was a very easy day all the way around. With only exams to hand back in the afternoon, I didn't have to lesson plan for the afternoon. What I needed to do in a huge way was clean my room. In such a small room, things can get out of hand very quickly. If just one or two things is out of place, then everything gets cluttered. My parents would be quick to say that I never had the cleanest room in the world, but damnit I'm trying here. The upside of having a small room is that it's very easy to clean. I was done in less than an hour.

I was done with my school obligations – I can't even call it “class” – in 20 minutes today. I should have had to wait an 40 minutes in between seeing my classes, but I was able to sneak into my second class before the other teacher could show up, saving me a solid hour.

The rest of the afternoon was very quiet. We wanted to do beans tonight, so we got the charcoal going early. Outside of that, we just lounged around the patio, figuring out how many days until we get to go home. How do we get to do that? We got our official Close of Service dates this afternoon. It's exciting to know that after nearly eighteen months in Machanga, there is a final date to this madness.

When the energy came on, my computer “expertise” was needed. Someone needed some documents saved on a flash drive and printed. I'm pretty sure that anyone over the age of seven in America could do this, but it's still a bit of a task here. Whatever. The whole thing took thirty seconds and I was back to cooking rice and beans.

I'm sure that some of you readers may be mocking my love for rice and beans. But the truth is it is fuckin delicious. It's highly nutritious – a great source of fiber and protein – and easy on a budget. And since Richie doesn't eat that much rice, I'm usually very full by the end of the meal. Today, Richie failed to make it half way through his plate, and guess who gets all that food. He said he wasn't feeling well, so he turned in, leaving me to entertain myself with Spider Solitaire

It was a truly beautiful night for sleep, and by beautiful, I mean absolutely freezing. I'm not quite at the point where sweatpants and long sleeves are required, but it's getting close to that time. I can't wait. With such lovely weather, it is so easy to sleep through the night.

For a day that doesn't require me to do anything until 4 in the afternoon, I had a very busy day. While Sozinho was out buying charcoal, I helped clean the house. Upon his return, I ran to the market to buy some items for the house. And following that, I planned my lesson for the afternoon, a conversation about laws and rules.

The best moment of the morning, however, came at the very end of the morning, while we were cooking lunch. Sozinho was ironing in the house. Now, ironing here is almost exactly as it is in America, except with one big difference: instead of plugging the iron into a wall for heat, charcoal is used. It's fascinating to watch and I will not iron my clothes here because I know I will fuck up everything. Anyways, Sozinho was ironing in the house and our neighbor came over and asked if he was finished. Sozinho said, “Yea, I'm done”. I heard him rummaging around the house, so I said to our neighbor “esta a mentir” – “he's lying”. I said it half-jokingly but with near certainty. Richie than looked in the house and, what do you know, Sozinho is still ironing. “You're not making my life easy”, Sozinho told me. I was thinking that I was just returning the favor.

Richie and I ran over to the district education building in the afternoon to print some documents. I would normally print documents here at school, but both of the printers here are busted. I've tried to repair them, but it appears to be a lost cause. Documents printed, we returned home in time for Richie to yell at his students about cheating.

My class today went amazingly well. The students were actually participating. More than that, they were making an effort to participate in English. This was truly shocking. After the first period ended, I wanted to continue into the second period – the last period of the day. A lot of students in the class, however, wanted to leave. And with reason: most of the students in that class live in Mambone and with the sun going down earlier and earlier these days, it is almost impossible to get across the river before sunset. So for the first time in 18 months, I gave homework: one paragraph, in English, about any rule or law. They probably think it's a joke, but I'm not fucking around. I'm sure a lot of them will not be doing it, and I will be taking points off their exam.

While I was in the classroom, Richie bought fish, leaving me to eat spaghetti. Still pissed off about a lot of his students cheating – he caught eight in one class alone – Richie wanted to see people die. That left us with watching “The Last Samurai”. Pretty sweet movie, and it definitely quenched Richie's thirst to see blood.

Under normal circumstances, a midnight text message from America would be unacceptable. But these were not normal circumstances: my brother's first child, my first niece, was born just after midnight Mozambique time. It was a text message I was very happy to receive. It's strange how things can happen sometimes: within ten days of each other, I lost a family member and gained a family member. If you believe in circle-of-life or reincarnation or whatever, this all makes a lot of sense. To me, it;s just very strange.

I was up, once more around 5 o'clock, before finally rolling out of bed around 8 in the morning. It's awfully hard to find the motivation to get out of bed these days. It's so cold outside, I have no responsibilities in the morning, and even in an uncomfortable bed, being wrapped up in a blanket is quite lovely. Eventually, I found the motivation. Rather, I think I had to pee.

Once I was up, though, I was out and about. I made a bread run while Richie finished up his classes for the week. The rest of the morning was spent relaxing, watching electricians work on the houses. By the time I went to class, a couple of the houses here were hooked up to 24-hour energy. For real. No joke this time. Our house, however, wasn't. “They will get there”, our pedagogical director said with a smile. “No they won't”, I joked back. I was hoping I would be wrong.

I wasn't. All afternoon, they worked on a single row of houses, leaving the other half for another day. Whether that day would be tomorrow is anyone's guess, but we have high hopes. If they could get this much done in one day, they should easily be able to finish tomorrow.

I only found out that our house wouldn't be hooked up on my way back from the market. I left for the market around 4:30, hoping that they electricians would have our house hooked up by 5:30. That dream was ruined, however, when Richie and a colleague walked up to me as I was leaving the villa. We weren't getting energy, but we were going to drink. Okay.

Four of us sat around a table and proceeded to knock out a case of beer in a couple hours. With the cold weather here, it's a perfect time for dark beer. Perfect enough to drink twelve of them, apparently. Sufficiently drunk, we came back to the house to cook up some beef stir fry. If we weren't drunk, it would have probably been terrible. Our altered state made us think otherwise.

The energy went out, on our row of houses anyway, around 9:30. If we're lucky, it will be the last time the lights go out on us.

When we woke up Friday morning, there was no sign of an electrician. I don't mean that the electrician wasn't at our house. I mean that the electrician was not anywhere to be found in school. This was just slightly concerning. I figured that if we didn't get energy on Friday, we'd have to wait until Monday or Tuesday or October to get it. I wasn't holding my breath.

Trying to not thinking about the lack of electricity in our house, I kept my mind busy. I had some surprising success with Kakuro, I cleaned up around the house, and lesson-planned for the afternoon classes. By the time I got through all of that, it was time to cook lunch. Just another day of cooking on charcoal.

If nothing else, I was really hoping that we would have energy when I got back from class. The electrician finally made an appearance and there wasn't a ton of work to do. But after three full hours of teaching, with no break, there was no energy in our house. I was officially pissed off.

Then, out of nowhere, two more electricians showed up and started getting work done. There was no messing around. They sure as hell didn't want to work on Saturday. This was a job that needed to be done. And they barely got it done. At 4:37 PM Mozambique time, on May 28, 2010, Machanga finally saw the light. Our house was lit up.

The question then became, “Well, what do we do now?” We turned off the lights and went for a walk. We didn't have a whole lot of food in the house, so a market run was necessary. There was no other way to welcome in 24-hour energy than with a pasta dinner. For our entertainment, we watched “The Game”. The funny thing is, by the time we got through the movie, we were ready to go to bed. It was 9:45. We're pathetic.

How did I celebrate the first weekend of full time energy? By going to Vilanculos, naturally. It had been a while that I'd come to Vil, but I was in need of a lot of things. We need oil for the house, I needed pizza for my belly, and my computer was in dire need of some updating. Oh yea, and I was flat broke. Thank goodness for payday.

I crossed the river just after 7:00. The travel day started ominously. Fog sat on the river reducing visibility to zero, to the point that no one on the other side of the river could see that there were eight people waiting to cross to Mambone. After crossing the river, things improved dramatically. I was about to crawl into a chapa when a truck rolled by. I asked where he was going, and he said he was staying local, “but there's a car at a restaurant about to go to Maxixe”. Bingo. I walked a kilometer down the road to the restaurant and, as promised, there was the car.

As I stood at the restaurant, I remembered words commonly uttered by my grandfather: you don't ask, you don't get. I walked over to the man, who was finishing his breakfast (and his breakfast beer) and asked if he was heading to Maxixe. When he said yes, I asked for a ride, and he said of course. Immediately after I asked, another guy – who apparently had been there for a while – asked if he could also get a ride. “Nope. Only room for one”. The second man who asked looked like a beaten dog, tail between his legs. Should have asked first.

Aside from the thirty minutes spent fucking around Mambone, the ride was awesome. He didn't stop for anything or anyone. The man went 120 kilometers per hour the entire way down. I didn't have to pay. And then, as if the first part of the ride weren't good enough, I got another free ride from the crossroads to Vilanculos. The entire trip, including the ten-Metical boat ride, cost me ten Meticais. The only tally in the loss column was I didn't break the record: despite the lost thirty minutes in Mambone, I still got to town in four hours in six minutes, my second fastest time.

The afternoon in Vilanculos was lovely as usual. Some other Volunteers from around the area were in town, so some of us got pizza. I tried to run to the supermarkets, but nothing was open. Shame. I'll try again on Monday morning before I get out of here.

The evening was when the real show began. The other Volunteers bought a couple of chickens to celebrate a birthday, and we we're going to cook them up well. We made some delicious rubs for roasting. Some vegetables got steamed while others got thrown in with the chickens. Three hours after we started cooking, everything was finished. I say this without exaggeration: this was the best meal I've had in this country, probably the best meal I've had in the last five years. It was absolutely amazing.

The rest of the night was spent in alcohol-induced joy. We sat around for nearly six hours discussing everything from how good the food was to what happens to running backs when they hit thirty to the best movie trilogies.

Don't get me wrong, 24-hour energy is great. But it doesn't beat out good food, good friends, and good conversation.

I fell asleep, quite literally for the first time in my life. I was sitting upright, fairly exhausted from being up for 23 consecutive hours, and at some point, I leaned to the left and just crashed. I stayed like this for a solid hour, until the cat annoyed me to the point that I picked it up off the bed and threw it.

I don't know why I thought that would help. Cats are finicky, the attention whores of the animal world. And quite frankly, at 4 in the morning, drunk and exhausted, I simply don't have it in me to give anything attention. By 7:30, having fought off the damn cat for four hours and mostly rested up, I finally let the cat in the bed. Huge mistake. It took a while, but my cat allergy finally kicked in. Out rolled the tears and the snot. I was down and out for an hour, even after popping a Benadryl.

Four months into having a cushy school schedule, I finally realized the benefit of not having classes on Monday. Usually, I'll travel home with Richie, who has classes on Mondays, leaving me to sit around the house doing nothing. But Richie wasn't with me today and I really wasn't in the mood to travel. Before we even got to breakfast, I made the decision not to go home until tomorrow. This made me happy.

There was no need for a nap today, even though I was still tired. A day of sitting around was exactly what I needed. Three of us, sat around, talking music, talking sports, talking food, talking America. When lunch came around, we made spaghetti, after which one of the Volunteers from further south headed home.

Late in the afternoon, I went on a rare passear through town. Passear'ing is a Richie activity. I don't see a lot of reason to walk for an hour with no reason other than to kill an hour. My passear, however, had a purpose. We are scheduled to have a conference in Inhassoro in August, and I wanted to check out the place. The sign said that it was only 2.6 kilometers away, not so long. As I walked though, I realized this number was absolutely wrong. It was 2.6 kilometers to the end of the first road. I'm pretty sure they forgot to add the extra kilometers on the back roads. All said, it took me an hour to get from the Volunteer's house to the hotel.

It's a nice hotel, right on the ocean, with a pool looking out over the water. Everything is very green, well maintained. And the owners were very kind. The only downside is that it's far away from the town. Come conference time, this is probably a good thing. No need to cause trouble in a Volunteer's site.

I really wasn't looking forward to the walk. It was starting to get dark and I knew I'd be wiped by the time I returned. Less than a kilometer into the walk home, a car went screaming by, then suddenly stopped. "Need a lift?" yelled a thick, Afrikaner accent. Why yes, yes I do. Sitting in the car were a blonde-haired, blue-eyed husband, his blonde-haired, blue-eyed wife, and their two blonde-haired, blue-eyed daughters. They could have easily been from Holland or Sweden. With one child in her lap, the wife sat there smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. The husband also smoked and drank, but he didn't have a child in his lap. It was probably not the wisest of rides to take, but whatever. I wasn't going far and the town was sleepy.

Colin, the Volunteer with whom I stayed, and I cooked beans for dinner. He usually doesn't do feijoada (bean stew) so I was happy to show him my tricks. Colin is from California, went to UCLA, athletic, and a generally cool person. The conversation rolls easily with him. In an area dominated by girls (8-4), it's nice to have guy time. If I went to Vilanculos a lot last year, I could see myself going to Inhassoro a lot this year. The high-speed internet cafe across the street seals the deal for me. If only there were pizza and a good supermarket in Inhassoro, it would be a perfect place.

We didn't make it up much past dinner. We were both still exhausted from the night before and we both had busy-ish days ahead of us on Monday. He had to teach and I had to get back to Machanga.

Before heading out of town, I wanted to hit the internet cafe one more time. If the boss is in town, I can get on Wi-fi, which means that I can do some music downloading. My brother sent me the new album by The National, but since it's a torrent, I can only download it off my computer. Fortunately, the chefe arrived and I got downloading. The internet flew, America fast. It was a thing of beauty. What would have taken me four or five hours in Vilanculos took me a total of 10 minutes in Inhassoro. Looks like I'll be coming down this way a lot.

The other major upside to going to Inhassoro is the car situation. Vilanculos only has the one car that leaves at 10:30 in the morning. From Inhassoro, I can leave anytime between 7 and noon and still get back to Machanga with no problem. I headed out to the road around 9:15 and had a ride all the way to the crossroad by 9:45.

It was a great travel day. The most waiting I did was that half hour in Inhassoro. The ride to the crossroads was slow and steady, but I had exactly zero minutes of wait time at the crossroads, jumping from the back of one truck into the back of another. After shopping in Mambone (the price of tomatoes has dropped 20% recently...is the season), I waited no more than ten minutes before jumping in a boat across the river.

I was home by 2 o'clock, a still acceptable hour to eat lunch. I cut up some veggies, fried some potatoes, and cooked up another delicious Velveeta omelet. The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing. Colin gave me a book called "Best American Sports Writing - 2009". This is my new favorite book. Between the ride up and the slow afternoon, I tore throw a good third of the book. These aren't game recaps. These are feature pieces that go on forever, really beautiful writing all the way around. I was especially hit by a story about a refugee soccer team in Georgia. It brought back all sorts of memories from San Diego. The only person to see the tears well up in my eyes was the truck driver.

Richie had a long afternoon of teaching: four classes, one after the other, in the afternoon. Bummer. I spent the afternoon sitting on the patio, reading, looking at the sky. We've had plenty of days that felt like winter, but this was the first day that actually looked like winter. A blanket of greyness covered the sky, a

brisk breeze blew through. This is what we've wanted for months -- sweatshirts, blankets, hot showers.

We were low on food in our house, but we did have a ton of tomatoes, onion, and bell pepper. We felt obligated to cook tomato sauce. It's been a good while since we've made tomato sauce. Richie committed to spaghetti, but backed out before I even put the spaghetti into the pot. Fine by me -- I can eat pasta until I'm blue in the face. While out of town this past weekend, Richie picked up two seasons of "Chappelle's Show". We watched the first three episodes before calling it an early night.

I woke up Tuesday hungry, which is nothing new. I can usually hold out until lunch to eat. That's how it was in America and that's how it's been here. But today, there was no holding out. By 9:00, I was ready to eat. I cut up some vegetables, threw together a salad dressing of oil, curry seasoning and salt (surprisingly good - don't knock it til you try it) and was quickly sated.

The last couple of weeks in class have all been about vocabulary-building. All of last year and the first trimester of this year went into grammar and structure. Now, it's about plugging more vocabulary into these structures. I've spent plenty of time the last couple of weeks on prefixes, so it only makes sense that I put some time into suffixes. I feel like we have less suffixes than we have prefixes, which certainly makes life easier, and most of these suffixes line up quite nicely with Portuguese.

After lunch, I headed off to class to give my lesson. On my way over to class, I ran into the eleventh grade English teacher. As usual, I tried to make small talk, doing the courteous thing. He ended our conversation in a very weird way: "I will come there now". Okay...and what? Some details were definitely missing. I thought maybe he was heading off to class, I don't know. But then, a couple minutes later, he rolls into my class, notebook open, and sits down.

Okay, looks like my class is going to be critiqued. That's fine and good. I actually had a legitimate lesson plan today, one that would fill the entire forty-five minutes. Well, close enough. The class went forty-three minutes, which worked out well. He wanted to discuss my lesson. I was expecting some serious critiquing, but nothing really came, positive or negative. Telling me that "writing the topic on the board is good" is really not helpful to me.

Richie and I went on a late afternoon market run, not really needing anything but wanting chicken or beef. There was absolutely no protein in the market, at least no protein that we trusted. Yes, one of the places had fish, but hthis place regularly loses energy, causing the fish to spoil very quickly. We have little faith. We did have some canned chicken in the house, so we turned to that and made stir fry.

As I cooked dinner, I received a text message, probably from stateside. This is nothing new: dinner time is usually the time that messages start coming in from America. But the message I got was different than anything I expected. My great-grandmother, in her mid-nineties, passed away. I think I was more shocked by the medium of delivery than the news itself. When you're in your nineties, even the smallest thing can turn things downward. I just didn't think I would hear about it via text message.

My great-grandmother was amazing. She may have been tiny in stature and moved at a pace that a sloth would mock, but her mind was sharp as a knife. She knew everyone's names, what everyone was up to, knew generally where I was (amazing, considering that she had lived a full life before Mozambique as a nation existed) and what I was doing. I was fortunate to have been able to see her just before coming here.

That message sobered up an otherwise jovial day. I didn't really know how to react. The last death in my family was long enough ago that I don't remember what happened or how I felt. Add in the fact that I'm 10,000 miles away, completely removed from the situation, and it's just a little awkward. What I did know is that I needed a laugh, and maybe something delicious in my stomach. We watched "Chappelle's Show" and ate chocolate cake, but as I went to bed, my heart was still heavy.

Usually, I am a terrible sleeper when something is on my mind, but I slept surprising well Tuesday night. I woke up to the bad news that the Sharks had lost (again) on home ice in their Western Conference finals series. I figured between the death and the Sharks losing, my day could only get better from there.

And it did. One of my students came up to me early in the morning to tell me that they wouldn't have their first classes in the afternoon, allowing me to move my teaching time up a full four teaching periods. This made me happy. The only thing it forced me to do was plan my lesson in the morning instead of after lunch. Still, I managed to lesson plan and go to the market. We had almost know food in the house, and I don't know about you, but I generally like to eat around noon.

Class went about as I thought -- short and sweet. I came back to see two out of the ordinary things. The first was Alexis sitting on our porch. She hasn't been in Machanga for weeks. The muzungu population in Machanga jumped from three to four, just like that. The other, way more improbable thing was that electricians were at school. We sat in utter amazement as we watched a team of men in orange jumpsuits dig a whole next to our house for a light pole.

I'm still not holding my breath, but it looks like twenty-four hour energy might actually arrive. I don't blame you if you don't believe me either. I said it in June of last year, and this past November, but this looks real. It's not just talk -- it's work. The work was so stunning that the people building the house next to ours actually stopped working to watch other people work. That said, I still will not believe it until I can actually flip a switch on an off mid-day.

The look of winter stuck around all afternoon. The sky remained grey, the clouds a little angrier than they've been the last couple days. They gave way briefly in the afternoon, dropping a rain so light that it barely hit the ground. Still, it was enough to keep me perched on my patio cooking beans over charcoal and reading "Best American Sports Writing - 2009"

The beans were nearly finished by the time energy came on. All that had to be done was turning the beans into something delicious and cooking rice. We went back to Chappelle, watching some stand-up bit from nearly a decade ago. It's still funny. The sad thing is, we didn't even make it through the entire thing. And it was only an hour and change long. We were just too tired to make it all the way through.

finish cooking, eat, chappelle

In comparison to the rest of the week, Thursday was quiet and uneventful. I had little to do in the morning, as I was giving the same lesson from yesterday. My morning was spent on the computer, mostly because I could. The energy was on and off the entire morning, keeping my computer's battery at almost a complete charge. The electricians, for one reason or another, needed the energy on. I wasn't complaining. At some point, they came into our house to mount a kilowatt-hour counter. This energy thing, finally, seems to be a reality.

We returned to cooking omelets today because, well, they're fuckin delicious. Apparently, they are all also a safety hazard. As usual, we cooked our eggs in oil. When I went to flip the omelet -- always a tedious task -- the oil splashed up to my hand, leaving an archipelago of burns on my thumb. The omelets of course were delicious, so it was worthwhile.

I powered through class to return to more electricity. I barely made use of it, only using my computer to listen to music. I have a feeling that if twenty-four hour energy actually arrives, this is how it will be for us. Little will change in this house. Our eating habits may get better, as we will actually have the ability to freeze things in our neighbor's freezer. And yes, we will be able to use our stovetop for lunch and dinner. And there will never be reason to have a dead phone or computer battery. Aside from this, life will march on. If we haven't come to appreciate life without electricity, we have certainly adjusted to it.

The latter part of the afternoon was slow. I sat on the patio, committed to finishing of "Best American Sports Writing". In anthologies like these, I have found that you can usually expect some uninteresting or not so worthy writing, but everything in this book, no matter the sport (even boring ones like swimming and running), was fascinating, beautifully written. I finished the book just by 4:00. This left me enough time to run to the market to photocopy some exams.

Since we received a photocopier (and then a second one in town), many of the teachers in eleventh and twelfth grades have decided to take advantage of it, as they should. A piece of technology that sits there unused is as good as not having it at all. But it is killing students. You see, teachers have to pay to make photocopies to cover the price of the paper, the toner and the service. In a big city like Beira or Maputo, this would cost a single Metical; in Vilanculos, it costs two. In Machanga, it costs four at one store (the place run by the teacher) and five at the school itself. If every exam is one page, and every teacher gives three exams per trimester, at sixty students a class, this comes out to 900 Meticais per class every trimester. Multiply that by two or three or four classes, and things start to get expensive. Of course, no teacher wants to take this hit, so what do they do? They pass the expense down to the students, not looking to profit, just looking to cover the expense. This wouldn't be so bad if everybody who went to school here actually had family here.

But our school is a boarding school. Many of our students are here with little to nothing, as food and board is paid for at the beginning of the year. I am always left wondering how students can cover up to 100 Meticais in copies every trimester. So I've taken a stand. I'm not charging my students for their exams. And it's not because I make more money than other teachers. The truth is Richie and I make less than our university-educated counterparts. A lot less. I just don't think it's particularly fair to charge students to take exams. So I get creative. The students get half-sheets instead of whole sheets. It's a little more difficult to read, but its better than reading and copying off a blackboard, especially with my shitty handwriting. And I photocopy whole-sheet final exams in Vilanculos, keeping my expenses low. On the whole, I get hit maybe 600 Meticais every three months. And let's face it, if I can't afford 200 Mets a month, I'm not being responsible enough with my money.

Thursday night was a fish night for Richie, meaning I was on my own for dinner, meaning I was eating spaghetti again. It doesn't even matter what I eat anymore, as long as I get my calories and some protein now and then. We'll do protein tomorrow night. For our entertainment, we watched "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", a movie that was probably good when it came out, but now was only funny because of the hair-dos, clothing, and vocabulary.

Richie was going to head out of town Friday morning, but I knew -- we both knew, actually -- at 3:00 in the morning that he wouldn't be traveling. 3:00 was just about when the rain started fell. It wasn't a hard rain: just a pestering rain that would not be fun to sit beneath while in the back of a truck. He hoped that it would clear up by the end of the morning. We figured that he could make it to Vilanculos by a reasonable hour if he left before 11. But 11 o'clock came and went, grey skies still overhead, rain still threatening.

Teasingly, the sun came out around 11:30 and stayed out for the better part of the afternoon. All I could do was mock Richie and his bad luck.

I give my first exam of the second trimester today -- what should be an easy ten-question, multiple choice, fill in the blank exam. I have practiced this form of exam with my students for the last two weeks, so there is really no excuse for failure. There's no way this exam should take more than 45 minutes, and just as I expected, the last student finished 43 minutes into the period. Whatever bad luck cursed Richie avoided me. The teacher of my other class canceled his second period, allowing me to use his time. As expected, some of the students from the second class tried to get answers from the first class. I actually caught one trying to write the answers into her cell phone. I took her phone and by sheer generosity, I allowed her to take the exam. They won't be so lucky next exam. I'll have different exams for the second midterm and allow them to talk all they want. It's all fun and games for them until an entire class fails miserably. My students may think I'm old, but I'm not that far removed from school.

Finished by 2:00, I spent most of the afternoon reading Malcom Gladwell's "Outliers". The first half of the book was really interesting, reminding a little of "Freakonomics". It's incredible how something as simple of a birth-month or birth-year can affect, or at least contribute, to one's fortunes. It was a good enough read to keep me engaged until Richie wanted to make a late afternoon market run on the quest for chicken.

Most of the evening was committed to technology. Our math/chemistry teacher-friend wanted me to type up a couple of chemistry exams. I hate typing these exams -- so many subscripts and superscripts. By the time the next Volunteers get here, hopefully the teachers will be well enough trained that they will only come to Casa de Muzungu for little technical things like formatting. When I wasn't typing, I was in the director's office, trying to get our crappy printer to work. Oh, and the computer in that office has a virus that won't allow me to even get Windows to start. I'm not saying it's completely a lost cause, but getting it to Beira is going to suck. After eating our delicious roasted chicken, we watched some "Chappelle's Show", right up until the lights went out.

Saturday did not start well. The Sharks are all but eliminated after going down 3-0 to Chicago. Yes, teams have climbed out of 3-0 holes. It's happened three times in NHL history, with the last coming, well, last week. So is there hope? Yes. But the chances of it happening twice in one playoffs are miniscule. They'll be lucky just to make it back to San Jose for Game 5.

There was enough of a break in the weather today to allow Richie to escape to Vilanculos to get money and to do some shopping. About an hour after he left, the rain started come down here, and it kept raining for the better part of the morning. This was fine by me: I was happy to stay in bed to finish "Outliers".

I should have graded exams today, but I was really in no mood to do such a boring task. Instead, I spent most of my day listening to "High Violet", the new album from The National. Courtesy of my brother and some very fast internet in Inhassoro, I was able to get this music earlier in the week, and since uploading it to my iPod, I've been hooked. My official iTunes count has me at seven listens, but that doesn't count the six or seven (or more) times I've listened to it on my iPod. I have this problem. When I get something I like, I tend to not put it down. It happens with books. It happens with games. And it especially happens with music. I literally spent the entire afternoon listening to the album, trying to nail down the words.

Finally, the energy came on and I wanted beans. Sozinho was in the same boat, which is better for everyone - especially him, since he does the dishes. I didn't even have to use a plate. I could just throw the beans into the pot of rice and eat direct out of the pot. I know, I'm an animal. But seriously, I'm not going to be able to do that when I get home. It will be back to civilized living, plates and forks and whatnot.

With Richie gone, I was on my own for entertainment, and it pretty much looked like my afternoon. I returned to The National, but instead went to their old albums. It may be impossible to say which is best because they're all so damn good, but for now, High Violet takes the crown.

I may feel differently next week.

I knew I wouldn't be sleeping well. In the wee hours of Sunday morning, I rolled around in bed running through all the scenarios, hoping for the best but certainly expecting the worst. It's what we've become accustomed to. But then, after squeezing out a few hours of tormented sleep, my anxiety was relieved with a single text message: "WOOHOO!" Everything I needed to know was written in those six letters: The San Jose Sharks, perennial May no-shows, knocked out the two time defending Western Conference champion Detroit Red Wings. I could now get some good hours of sleep before finding out some of the details.

On Sundays in Machanga, we might as well be in the middle of a corn field in Nebraska. The town comes to a complete standstill, the school sits quietly, other than the morning clamoring of church. The girls sit around, braiding and twisting their hair into intricate patterns. They guys sit around and do nothing. It is a lazy man's paradise. And all I could do was fit in.

I spent most of the morning horizontal in bed. Having not slept particularly well, I was happy to get some rest. I didn't sleep, but I was happy not to be moving. At some point, I rolled out of bed to read up on the Sharks victory. While my computer was up and running, the physics teacher who just received a computer came over with a question. He had written out a three-page questionnaire by himself, impressive considering he hadn't owned a computer last week. It's even more impressive because he didn't just ask me to do it -- he did as much as he could before running into the problem of having to put accents on some of the vowels. I gave him a quick lesson and he was good to go.

The afternoon looked a lot like the morning. I sat around with Richie, reading a Sports Illustrated from months ago. I usually enjoy SI, but I have two problems with this particular issue. One: I've read it cover to cover four times, so it's kind of boring. My second issue is much bigger. It has a picture from the College Football Championship game, with "Dynasty" splashed over the cover the Alabama players. No question mark. No exclamation point. Just "Dynasty". In caps. Maybe something has changed in the year and a half that I've been gone, but I thought you had to win multiple championships over a short period of time to be a dynasty. Alabama is at one. Come on, Sports Illustrated. You should know better.

Considering that the rest of my day was lazy, I saw no reason to change course during the evening. Sure I could have cooked up some gourmet dinner, but why should I do that when I have a box of Trader Joe's macaroni and cheese staring me in face. This was an easy call. Richie was having more problems than usual with his attention span. He didn't want to watch one two-hour movie, so instead we watched eight episodes of "30 Rock". They go by much faster without commercials.

It should go without say that I slept much better on Sunday night. I had nothing to worry about. The Sharks weren't playing. I didn't have to teach class. I literally did not have a concern in the world (well, at least my world). Given our severe dearth of food in the house, I went out for a market run. Things went to plan, in fact better than usual. One of the shops had frozen chickens and orange juice. The chickens, we've come to expect, but the orange juice was a huge victory. As I made my way home from the market, I was stopped by someone. They said my bike was being held in the market. I had no idea why. I didn't take my bike this morning, so I was totally in the dark.

Turns out that all bikes need to be registered, at the cost of 170 Meticais per bike. Really? A year and a half into my stay here, and we are being told now that we have to pay for this. I was a little shocked. I wasn't particularly pissed off by the fact that I'd have to pay the 170 Mets -- a cool 6 dollars. It's just that I know this money is not going to be used for developing the area; it would just wind up in someone's pocket. I tried to get out of paying, but he was having none of it. I told him I didn't have the money, and I'd return in 20 minutes to resolve it.

Before I returned to the market, I asked one of the teachers what the situation was with the bike registration. If I was shocked, he was incredulous. "You don't have to pay! You're Peace Corps!" I tried to weasel my way out of paying, but he was going to make sure it happened. So we went over there and calmly, and then a little loudly, explained the situation. We explained that I was on a tight salary (true), that we hadn't been told about the bike registration (true), and that the bike was given to us by Peace Corps (not true, but they reimbursed us for our purchase). The guy called his boss, and he let us off the hook. He had one more question for us, a last-ditch effort to get the cash, probably to line his pocket. "What if the bike is stolen? We'll have no way to know it's gone." I could have gone the abrasive route and said "Well, given your history of catching thieves in the past, it wouldn't matter if our bike were registered". Instead, I went for funny: "If our bike is stolen, we'll go to the witch-doctor, and it will be back the next day". Keep in mind that Machanga is one of the curandeiro capitals of this country. The truth is that if our bike were stolen, we would go to the witch-doctor, and it probably would be returned. Everyone got a good laugh out of it, and we were off the hook for paying.

Buoyed by this victory, I rode the momentum for the entire afternoon. Following lunch, I wanted to be productive. I don't think I could handle another day of sitting around mindlessly. While Richie was in the classroom, I washed the dishes alone for the first time in a while. Richie had wanted to build a drying table for our dishes. This was definitely my sort of thing. I like building, I'm good with that kind of stuff. So I got to work. For an hour, a threw around a hoe, making space for the legs of the table. I cut the tree branches to reasonable size, then laid a piece of aluminum siding over the legs. Just like that, instant drying table.

I rewarded myself by watching a soccer game here. It was Machanga vs. Mambone. Mambone played a really good first half. Machanga came back in the second half and by my count had seven quality chances to score. Finally, with ten minutes to play, Machanga cashed in. They held on for dear life for the last ten minutes, anchored by the goalie who made two excellent saves from close range. It was probably the best soccer game I've seen here.

I had a little bit of time between the end of the game and the arrival of electricity. I prepared our chicken and left it to Richie to cook. Once the energy came on, I had to go over to the director's office to do some computer work. I went over with one request for help, but one quickly turned into four. It always seems to work out that way, and it's fine by me. I'd rather go once and do four things than do one thing for times. By the time I got back, the chicken was finished and the rice was just about done. Our evening's entertainment was "Still Waiting", the sequel to "Waiting". I got a good laugh out of the original, but seeing as I hadn't even heard of the sequel, I didn't have high hopes. I figured it was a straight-to-DVD kind of thing. And I was right. It was a pretty terrible movie.

Right before going to sleep Monday night, our math teacher colleague came over needing some help with an exam. He wanted a single page typed up, which is no problem at all. I know that these tests -- with fractions and superscripts and whatnot -- are a lot more difficult to format than say, a history exam. Either way, one of my priorities for this trimester is to teach a bunch of classes on how to format math and science exams.

My Tuesday began by typing up this test. What would have taken me an hour last year took me about fifteen minutes to do today. Just as it takes some time to get accustomed to speaking a language, I guess it also takes some time to learn to type it. Even though it is still just fingers hitting letters, I think there's a mental aspect to it. In English, you don't expect to follow an "a" with an "o". These days, though, that's completely normal.

Typing up that exam got my day rolling quickly. I had some lesson planning to do for my own classes and I wasn't sure what I was going to do. The students seemed to kind of enjoy the lesson on prefixes from last week, so I figured I'd continue there. We have tons of prefixes in English, so it was a matter of choosing some that have good parallels to Portuguese. I ended up using "co-", "inter-", "de-" and "re-", each of which is exactly the same in Portuguese (except for de-, which is des- in Portugues).

The class itself went okay. It's a boring lesson because I am just spitting information at them and they are writing it down. But the good students -- the ones like to pass the National Exam in November -- got it figured out. As others were copying, they would shyly ask me to come over and look at a word to see if it worked in English, and most of the time, they did. I think that's all I really want out of my students: to have their minds working just a little bit harder than they would have been otherwise.

If the afternoon was slow, the evening was anything but. I got roped into doing some computer work. The physics teacher who wrote up the exam by himself needed his documents printed. It always starts like this: one person makes a request, and three others roll in. It's all good. I know that all this computer stuff is really difficult for them. I guess that's what were here for.

There is some very good news coming out of Machanga which really made our night. I don't know if you're prepared for this. This is such a tiny thing, it's almost pathetic that it qualifies as news. After months of not being sold here, Mambone bread is back in Machanga! Having good bread back in town meant we could reward ourselves with pizzas. And man, they were delicious.

Tonight, we watched "Zombieland". I don't know when or why zombies and other forms of the undead became big again. I guess things happen when you're in Peace Corps. Anyways, these movies are never really my cup of tea, but "Zombieland" was unexpectedly funny. Props to whoever figured that one out.

I was back to not sleeping on Tuesday night. Having taken my Larium the day before, I knew I was in for something. Usually I get the crazy dreams, but tonight, I got the paranoia/racing mind. It has only happened two or three times over my entire stay, but when it happens, it's not fun. I was up passed midnight with my mind running in circles. Pleasant, huh?

Wednesday was Richie's birthday, and following his first class, he was faced with a philosophical/ethical question: should he cancel class for the rest of the day? The answer was clear to me. Of course he should cancel class. Nobody should have to work on a birthday. He wavered at first, but when he realized that a car was leaving for Mangunde -- his destination for the weekend -- his answer was crystal clear. He threw his notes aside, packed a bag, and was gone by 9:30, leaving me all alone for the rest of the week.

I was in for a boring day all alone. I didn't have class until way late in the afternoon. I still had to lesson plan, but that usually doesn't take more than 15 or 20 minutes. This day might kill me.

My students, however, spared me today. One of them came over right at the beginning of first period, telling me that they had no one in the classroom and they wanted to get our lesson overwith. Nice. I had to write some stuff on big paper, so I wouldn't have to write it twice on back to back days, so I arrived in the classroom starting second period. This is much better than having to wait until 4:00. Even though I'm doing the same amount of nothing, the monotony will be broken up a bit.

For my class today, I had my students do some busy work. It was productive busy work, maybe a little mind-numbing for them, but they need the practice. The National Exam has a section of multiple choice fill-in-the-blank. I gave one of these sections to my students for their first trimester final and all of them failed miserably. I'm committing this trimester to having them do well on this section. So the class for me was boring -- a lot of watching my students copy stuff down -- but when a lot of them were getting 7 or 8 or 9 out of 10 correct, I was pretty happy.

The rest of my afternoon was committed to mastering four-suited Spider Solitaire. I've played this game plenty before and two-suited is way to boring. When I played years ago, I was winning around 20% of the games. I'd like to get back to that level, but right now, I'm only at 18%. I need one good winning streak...

With Richie gone, I was left to cook for myself. Beans were on the menu for the night, and as long as I was cooking for one, I wanted to cook plenty of food so I wouldn't have to cook again tomorrow for lunch. I cooked the regular amount of beans I normally cook, but stashed half for tomorrow. And since Richie wasn't here, I held off on entertainment. I continued to get my ass handed to me at Spider Solitaire until the lights went out.

Thursday did not start well. Larium hit me again, this time with a nightmare. At some point in the dream, someone crushed my face with stone. Nice, eh? And shortly after waking up, I received a flurry of text messages from my brother. Apparently, the nine-hour time difference is still fucking with him. He claims that it's a 24-hour world. That may be so, but Machanga isn't part of that world. We work sunrise to sunset, and anything after sunset is fortunate.

The morning was even slower than Wednesday was. It didn't help that I was tired for a poor night's sleep. It was slow enough that I had to run to the market, even though I needed almost nothing, just to keep my sanity. That knocked off a good portion of the morning. I didn't have to lesson plan since I was giving the same lesson to a different class. Soon enough, though, it was time for lunch. With so much beans left over,I was happy that I didn't have to cook another meal. It's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Class went about as I thought, maybe a little better. The science class is always smarter and harder-working, so I got out of class a little faster than I anticipated. I'd like to say I was productive the rest of the afternoon, but I wasn't. I was exhausted, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep. I know that if I nap, I'm done for the night. So I just lay there in bed, reading, until the energy came on.

I was particularly lazy about dinner tonight. I didn't want to cook anything special, so it was a night of spaghetti for me. Again, I was left without entertainment and frustrated by Spider Solitaire. I've come to realize that I'm very finicky about my games. If things are too easy, then I hate them because they're boring. And if things are too difficult, then I hate them because I can't complete them. But what I like about Spider Solitaire and Kakuro is that they are Goldilocks games for me. They strain me a lot, but I know I can win at least some of them. And whenever I win them, it feels like I accomplished something. If you hadn't figured it out already, my life is pathetic.

I've been much better about my sleeping habits recently. Following bad sleeping nights, I'm usually good for a mid-afternoon nap, which just makes it more difficult to sleep at night. Today, I resisted the nap and the resulting sleep was beautiful. I slept straight through from 10 at night until 8 in the morning. The cool weather helped a lot too.

Our math teacher colleague came over as soon as I was awake with a couple of math of exams he wanted typed. I really didn't want to waste my battery on typing exams that would take 45 minutes, so I instead went online. Then I got lucky. The energy was flipped on in the school, but not in the houses. I ran over to the school and dropped off my computer to be charged. It charged half way through before the lights went out, but it would be enough to type up the exams later.

Having the first class in the afternoon meant I had to lesson plan in the morning. I chose to continue my lessons on health with the topic of drugs and alcohol. This isn't like teaching drugs and alcohol in high school in America. Drugs aren't a huge problem here and most of my students are old enough to drink legally. It was more about giving them English vocabulary.

I had lunch right before class, just the usual eggs and potatoes. So why comment on it? It took me 18 months, but I finally learned that a single slice of Velveeta turns on omelet from above average to epic. It had to be a good afternoon after that. The classes went very well. For the first time in a while, I managed to fill the entire four hours of class. I was very happy with this, especially since the students seem to making some improvement. I gave them another National Exam practice and almost everyone did better on Friday's round.

The work continued after class. I banged out the exams the math teacher wanted. It was fourteen total questions and four of the questions on one test went right over to the other. It was a piece of cake. And then when the energy came on, the work increased. One of our pedagogical directors wanted to swap out laptops. He's had trouble with his since the first day -- a mouse issue, of all things -- and I finally got him a new one. Thankfully, he didn't have that many documents to transfer. And just when I thought he was all set up, there was another problem -- his charger wasn't working. I had forgotten about this charger. It was the reason I had my parents bring a new one. After getting his computer all set up, we realized it didn't have a sound card. Well, fuck. I gave up for the night. We'll deal with the sound card issue later.

lesson planning -- drugs and booze.

Sozinho wanted to have beans tonight, which was fine by me. He had been cooking the beans for most of the afternoon and I think he was expecting to cook the beans how he wanted to. I know better, though. His beans are fuckin awful. As soon as the beans were cooked through, I took over the operation. It was an excellent decision. My beans were delicious. His, almost certainly, would have been awful.

It has been a long time since I've gone into town for drinks. All of our drinking this year has been at the school or out of town. Ussene, or top drinking buddy, was feeling it too. He hasn't gone into town for a while either. We had to put an end to this. We were both on the tired side, so we stayed out for two drinks and returned. I had a travel day to worry about and I was going to be doing plenty of drinking over the weekend.

I slept well all the way until 4:00. I woke up feeling alive, feeling ready to move, but the boats wouldn't be leaving for at least another hour. Therefore, I had to sleep for at least another hour. You don't need to tell me twice to sleep.

I was on the road by 6:15, committed to getting to Inhassoro before 11. Once I crossed the river, my stomach started hurting. A lot. This could be a long ride. A Volunteer from Zambia once told me that maybe half of the Volunteers there crap their pants at some point. I did not want to become a part of this fraternity. When we got to Maluvane, I shuffled my way from the car to the nearest whole in the ground.

Relieved in every sense of the word, the rest of the ride was a piece of cake. On the last leg of the ride, we almost got rear-ended, but the car blowing by us had the good sense to go by us instead of through us.

Aside from the gorgeous ocean and wide beach, one of the beautiful parts of Inhassoro is is has an awesome internet cafe. It is by far the best internet in the area. Yes, the internet in Vilanculos is nice, but that is due to its convenience. The internet in Inhassoro is lightning fast. America fast. Of course, I had to take advantage of it. I sat in that cafe -- air conditioned, by the way -- for two hours. It was more expensive than other internet cafes, but every Metical was worth it.

Around noon, I walked over to the Volunteers' house, nicely located right across the street. I wasn't particularly hungry. The beans from last night and the bread from the morning kept me pretty full. We made a move to go to the beach. As we walked down, five other Volunteers rolled into town. We turned around so they could drop their stuff off and from there, headed to the ocean.

It was a beautiful beach day. It wasn't scalding hot and there was enough cloud cover to keep us from burning. The ocean, however, was too cold for a swim. Still, we all had a good time. And when the tied rolled in, we walked upstairs to the nearest bar.

The drinking began then, continuing all the way through the night. We went out for dinner to a restaurant near by to celebrate a Volunteer's birthday. One of the other Volunteers made a cake, and I provided the frosting for it. We didn't even bother with forks. The cake was slapped onto plates and eaten by hand. It was delicious. From there, we continued drinking at another bar. By the time we got out there, I was wiped. Between waking up at 4, traveling, and only eating one meal, I was done.

Still, we managed to stay out till 3 in the morning.

With holidays, our unofficial off-week, and Beer Olympics behind us, it's back to the reality of being a Peace Corps Volunteer. And what better way to do that with a painful travel day. Around mid-morning, I paid off my tab, which was lengthy, and made my way out of the backpackers for the market. As soon as I arrived at the chapa stop, I knew I was in for a long day. There are two chapas that run between Mambone and Vilanculos -- one with Korean characters on the side, one without. The one with Korean characters on the sides runs fast, not stopping for a lot of people. The other chapa stps way too often. Guess which chapa I was on.

True to form, the chapa took forever. It took us nearly an hour to cover the first fifteen kilometers and by the time we got to the first crossroads, I wanted to slay everyone on the chapa, starting with the driver. Being on a chapa really brings out the worst in me. It's the only time I want to go on a homocidal spree in this country. Instead I went the peaceful route (it is called the Peace Corps, right?) by plugging in my iPod and ignorning the world.

My frustration only grew over the course of the ride. At some point, a truck heading north carrying six Volunteers passed us. Courtesy of the thousand stops that we made in between Vilanculos and the crossroads for Mambone, the truck beat me to the crossroads and five remaining Volunteers were sitting enjoying some sandwiches. It was at this point that I officially declared to myself that I was never taking this particular chapa again.

The rest of the ride in wasn't so bad. Once we got on the road to Mambone, we went pretty fast, disregarding everyone on the road. This including the drunk man on a bicycle who we came within feet of killing. This also included the passangers. We got a little bit of rain on the ride in and at some point we hydroplaned and almost slid off the road. Isn't traveling fun?

Having survived the ride, I walked through the vila to pick up some bread and other groceries. Knowing that there was delicious Mambone bread at the end of the ride was probably the only thing that kept me sane. My luck finally turned around toward the end of the trip. I didn't have to wait at all for a canoe and it wasn't screamingly hot. For the first time in months, I didn't need to drink water on the walk home.

The entire trip took a full ninety minutes longer than it should have taken. Strangely, I was happy to be home. I was happy to know that I was going to be productive this week. I was happy that I didn't need to see a chapa, at least for a little while.

The long day behind me, the last thing I wanted to do was cook up some complicated dinner. That meant I was in for a night of spaghetti. For a change, Richie even got in the deal. We were happily eating and watching "30 Rock" when out of nowhere, the energy went off. We would have been okay with it if it were 9:00 or 9:15. But no, the energy went out at 8:30. The truth is, if there were any good night for the energy to go out early, this was the night. I crawled into bed and I was out cold before 9:00.

I guess a travel day will make you sleep. The cool weather didn't hurt either. All in all, I was out for almost eleven consecutive hours. In America, sleeping for eleven hours would have meant waking up around noon or one in the afternoon; here, I'm up before 8:00. I could have easily stayed in bed all day, not just because I was drowsy and the weather was good. No, I had no obligations for the entire day. Not working on Mondays is a beautiful thing. I probably should have stayed in Vilanculos for the extra day.

There wasn't much to speak about for most of the morning, but the afternoon was actually pretty good. For months, I've had a sheet of wood that would be perfect for another shelf. I finally decided to put it up and relocate my desk. By the end of the afternoon, my desk was in place, but I didn't have enough wire to hang my new shelf. It will half to wait until tomorrow.

Like a storm, the requests for help came during the evening. I carved out a portion of the evening to hand out a laptop to our physics teacher. I showed him the basics: how to turn it on, turn it off, open and save a document. This same teacher needed help printing a huge document for his math class. A student wanted me to type out some cover sheets for his work. And finally, the new English teacher wanted some help translating and typing a document. All said, most of my night was taken up, leaving Richie to do the stir-fry cooking. We finished exactly one episode of "30 Rock" before the energy went out, leaving us to go to bed well before 9:00 once again.

I was up multiple times over the course of Monday evening, courtesy of my cell phone and some other noise. I think I also finally caught up on sleep, so being up at 4:00 wasn't so big of a deal. I still managed to stay in bed for a good chunk of the morning. I actually had to lesson plan today for the first time in about a month. More than that, I had to figure out exactly what I was going to teach. I took a look at the planning another teacher and I did and saw I was supposed to teach adjective prefixes. Well, that's going to take a lot more than one lesson, seeing as there are probably hundreds of these in English. So I decided I would take this one bit by bit and just look at some prefixes that mean no or not, like "un", "dis" and "in".

Once my lesson planning was done, I headed to the market. We had almost no food and no charcoal. There was the potential for going hungry today. The food problem is easy enough to solve. I went to the market and restocked us on everything. I tried to get Sozinho to get us some carvao, but no one was selling. Cooking without fuel is impossible, so I did what we have learned to do well: I went to our neighbors and asked for charcoal. This is one of the many things I like about this place: being a sort of collectivist place, everyone looks out for everyone. And since our credit is good, people are happy to loan stuff to us. We would not starve today.

I was slightly skeptical about my lesson today. I didn't know if the students would really understand, but Portuguese has plenty of similar examples. I will just have to offer plenty of examples myself. Surprisingly, they seemed to catch on. I am not going to ask them to form words themselves. The rules are just too complicated. But by the time National Exams come around, they should be able to at least recognize these prefixes.

Following my class, I sat in on an math class on limits, which was, umm, interesting. This teacher, who is a good friend of ours, is trying to teach this lesson that is taught in the first week of calculus. He called a girl up to do the problem, and she did just fine until the very end, when she had to solve what zero minus one equaled. I felt sorry for the guy. And he was clearly frustrated by it. Every time she answered incorrectly (three times), he hit her in the hand with the wood side of his eraser. That was enough for me. He wanted me to sit in on the next one, but I escaped.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty calm. Since I purchased some new wire in market on my morning market run, I was able to finish up hanging my new shelves. I have a newly organized room and work station. And we killed another hour by going to the market. We needed candles because we didn't know when they would shut off our energy.

Of course, tonight was the night that our energy arrived on time and it stayed all the way through 9:30. We needed all of that time too. I cooked beans tonight, which always take a good while to cook. They weren't the best, but they were still pretty good. And we were able to finish more than one episode of "30 Rock". I call that a successful night.

I figured that Wednesday was going to start poorly. First off, I got a text message at 5:30 in the morning from a colleague, a truly unacceptable action. More importantly though, my San Jose Sharks, having a 2-0 series lead, played Game 3 in Detroit while I slept. I fully expected to see something along the lines of "Red Wings decimate Sharks, crawl back into series". What I saw this morning, however, was truly shocking: "Sharks win in overtime, take commanding 3-0 lead". What? I don't think anyone saw that coming. I knew at 7:30 in the morning that it would be a good day.

After recovering from the shock of seeing the headline, I walked over to my colleague's house, the colleague who texted me at the insane hour. He has recently acquired a photocopier, a good investment when you live in a town that only has one. Wisely, he is giving a better price (on Richie's and my advice) than the other people. The thing is, it's not really helpful to have a copy machine if you don't know how to use it. Apparently, that's where I come in. I went over there to figure out the machine. It would have helped if the manual were in English, but no, it had to be in Portuguese. Eh, nothing I can't handle.

Helping with the copy machine took me up all the way to...9:30 in the morning. I don't teach on Wednesdays until 4:00. That's a whole lot of time to kill. Soon enough, though, I had my lesson for the day planned and it was time to get cooking. Naturally, just as we fired up charcoal, the energy turned on. I'd like to say that they felt like they owed us, but it was only enough time to get my computer a third of the way charged. It doesn't really matter: it's enough to get me through the afternoon.

An hour before I was supposed to teach, one of my students came over to the house. He said that the teacher who was supposed to be there didn't show up and they wanted to have class now. Don't mistaken this as being eager to learn: most of them need to cross the river to get home. Of course, I was thrilled that I wouldn't have to wait until 4 to teach. I went inside, through on a pair of paints and my teaching coat. And as I step out the door, a Peace Corps shows up at my patio. We knew our boss would be coming this week, we just didn't know when. Apparently, the day was today. I told our neighbor to tell my students to wait until our normal class time.

Our boss and I talked for a little while. This is the third time he has visited in the last 16 months. I don't blame him for his lack of visits. Maputo to Machanga is a long ways, and there isn't a whole lot of reason to come up here. Regardless, some good came out of his visit. I got some clarification on our last few months of service and discussed our World Cup travel plans. Seems like everything is going to be okay but not perfect on both fronts.

When the time came around to go teach, all of my students had dispersed. Sometimes, you just can't win. Who am I to complain, though? It just gives me reason to free my other students on Friday and everyone loves an easy Friday. My afternoon rearranged, I spent the latter part of my afternoon preparing for dinner.

Most of the time, I am convinced that there is no god. But then there are times where I am sure that there is something or someone out there. Today was one those days. For the second or third time all year, our market had avocados, which meant that Richie and I could have a proper Mexican feast on Cinco de Mayo. Chicken, salsa, guacamole, cheese and rice, all packed into a delicious, floury hand-rolled tortilla. This beautiful combination tasted, well, godly. We capped our night by finishing off the third season of "30 Rock".

Thursday was a particularly slow day, and it's a good thing because I was feeling particularly lazy. Last night was hotter than it's been for the last few days. It was back to just using a bottom sheet for most of the night. When I woke up at 4 in the morning, it was just cold enough that another sheet didn't hurt. I didn't roll out of bed until almost 9. That is the best way to kill off the better part of the morning.

I only had to give one class this afternoon, and thankfully, it was the first and second periods of the afternoon. This is a much better schedule that having to wait until the end of the day to give my one class. For the first time in more than a year here, I tried doing something completely different: group work. In groups of four, students had to name five diseases, their symptoms, causes, prevention methods, and cures. This would be a challenge for them because even though much of the vocabulary is similar or exactly the same, they don't know what is the same and what is different.

The lesson actually went pretty well. It was a little stressful running around the class trying to define medical terms, but it was okay. I learned a lot of words that I would never otherwise learned (do I really need to know the verb "to cough"? Not really) and it was really nice to see my students' wheels turning a bit. I could see myself doing more of this over the rest of the year.

Following class, I really didn't have much to do. RIchie and I eventually made our way to the market, looking for nothing in particular. We ended up buying something, what I don't remember. Goes to show how important it was. We were on different dinner plans. Richie wanted to eat xima and sardines, two foods that I refuse to touch. I went a different route with spaghetti. I made an attempt at homemade pesto sauce. It was alright, but probably could have used more garlic. Not bad for a fist shot, though.

For our entertainment tonight, we watched "The Last King of Scotland", a movie about Idi Amin, the former president of Uganda. I had seen it before and I liked it years ago. Like "Blood Diamond", this was one of those Africa movies, where the things that are novel to most -- like crammed-in cars and dirt roads and being in the absolute smallest minority -- are completely normal to us. It was the first viewing for Richie and it didn't disappoint.

Friday: late morning market run

Lunch last of the avocado - delicious mexican food

Same Lesson - not as enthusiastic

relaxing afternoon

beans for dinner...American Gangster

Friday was a pretty slow day for us. Richie didn't have any classes and I only had to teach third and fourth periods in the afternoon. These days, where there's not a lot to do and nowhere to go, can wear on us quickly, so we tried to get ahead of the game. By mid-morning, we were getting antsy, so we made a run to the market, even though we didn't really need anything important.

With only one avocado left, we were hoping to refresh our stock, but our market, which has had avocado maybe three times this year, did not have them today. Very sad. Our last avocado would go to good use in a delicious plate of Mexican food for lunch.

The only thing I bought of the market that was of huge importance was razors. It took nineteen months, but I finally ran out of razor blades. I knew this day would come and I have not been looking forward to it. The only razor blades that can be purchased in Machanga are single-blade disposible Bics. I knew this was going to be painful. I have been shaving my head clean for almost five years now and this shave was the single most painful experience I've had. I'm usually good for one nick in the back of my head, but six -- six! -- is just not fair. Looks like I'll just be using the electric razor for the next couple months. The only thing more painful than the shave was the shower after.

Amazingly, my students failed to notice all the cuts in my head. I'd like to say that they were so into their work that they weren't paying attention to the back of my head. I know this is not true. The group of students today was not nearly as enthusiastic as the other group, something I expected.

The short remainder of the afternoon was pretty relaxing. I sat around for a couple hours, failing miserably again at Kakuro, until the energy came on. With the electricity running, one of the teachers needed help moving a document from a computer to a flash drive. I've showed him how a couple times, but he forgot. I also had to print out a document for another teacher. While I did that, Richie threw the beans on the stove.

They took a couple hours to cook, but finally our beans were ready to eat. While they cooked, we watched "American Gangster". I had never seen it before. It was pretty good, although I think I would have appreciated it more if I had an attention span that could endure a three-hour movie.

An unexpected car arrived on Saturday morning. Tim, the new-ish Volunteer at the next site north of ours, showed up with his school's soccer. With his second visit, Tim has taken the lead in all-time visits to Machanga during our tenure. So sad. He chilled with us for a while before heading back to his team.

We had a ton of beans left over from last night. It took us a year and a half, but we realized that if we cook food for more than one day, we wouldn't have to cook two days in a row. We aren't so bright over here. The beans held up just fine -- I guess there was enough oil in them to keep them from going bad.

I tried something new today: corn flour tortillas. This was merely an effort to try to make our Mexican food a little more healthy. We all know how things go the first time I try to make something new, especially with corn flour. As expected, the tortillas were terrible. Per my personal rules, I will have to wait at least a year to try this again. At least the rest of the food was pretty good.

The soccer game started in the middle of the afternoon when it wasn't too miserably hot. The first half of the game, only students were allowed to play. Machanga scored two goals in the first ten minutes, prompting all of the students watching to run on the field like a point guard just hit a game-winning three-pointer. In the second half, teachers were allowed to enter. Tim, who played in university, jumped in the game and played well. Our school director asked if we were going to join in, and I returned with a hearty laugh.

The energy came on almost immediately following the game, which was just lovely. Richie ate fish tonight, which meant I was eating spaghetti again. We watched "The Proposal" tonight, a stupid romantic comedy, but it featured Sandra Bullock, so we were okay with it.

A sad note to end the week on: Gary, our colleague across the river, is no longer our colleague across the river. He has had a really tough couple of months at site and it finally broke him. I don't blame him for resigning. If I were in his position, I would have done the same thing. With his absence, we are unofficially the most isolated site in this country. More than that though, it's kind of depressing to see someone who arrived after us leave before us. The same will happen with Alexis in a couple months. She'll be leaving at the end of July. By that time, though, we'll be down counting months on one hand.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas (and soon to be mamas) out there.

Well, we were supposed to start school this week, at least according to the state's official calendar. But given that it was the first week of the trimester, everyone here knew what would be happening: nothing. And nothing is exactly what happened. As such, I'm not going to recount a whole bunch of days of nothingness. That would be as boring for you to read as it would be for me to write. Instead, I'll just give you some random thoughts from this lost week.

To give you an idea of how empty this place was this past week, one of the teachers actually tried to give class on Monday. He was teaching a math class on limits. He said he wanted me to watch. I wasn't so interested in the material. Limits are easy. I was more interested in how many kids would be in the class. Of the 61 students supposed to be there, 15 showed up. I knew by Monday afternoon that I wouldn't be teaching.

It is officially blanket weather here. These next couple months are our Goldilocks weather. It is not too hot in the day, it is not freezing at night. Even so, we still broke out the blankets for the first time. It was beautiful. Along with blankets came the hockey jerseys. We purchased hockey jerseys last year for traveling in the winter, but they also make for great hanging-out clothes.

One of the English teachers from the secondary school came over wanting to plan out this trimester. I'm happy to do this, but it's a truly miserable experience. Part of it is because the curriculum is so awful and part of it is because I like being independent when it comes to this stuff. Though we will be teaching the same material for the next couple of trimesters, we will be doing it in very different ways.

We finally got our accommodations set up for World Cup. Given that my mom has better internet access than me, I put her in charge of this project. That was really the last piece we needed to make this trip run well. Now we just have to go and root like all hell for the US to beat England!

Apparently, Richie and I are dog murderers. For the second consecutive trip to Vilanculos, our chapa hit a dog, killing it immediately. The strange thing is we have each traveled alone in between these two trips and had no problems with dog-killing. It's a truly terrible feeling because it all happens in slow motion. You brace yourself and then boom! car hits dog, dog is dead.

Speaking of chapas, I'm done with the chapa system here. I think whenever I travel now, I'll only be taking private cars. What is frustrating for me is that the chapa drivers that run between Mambone and Vilanculos are willing to pick up everyone between the two town, even though a third town sits in between the start and point. Think about it this way. Imagine there are two kinds of car: A car that runs from LA to San Diego, stopping in Orange County to pick up people going to San Diego; and a car that runs from LA to Orange County directly. You would think that people only going to Orange County would take the LA-Orange County bus, and people going further than Orange County would take the other bus. This makes sense to me. But as we well know, if it makes sense, you can't possibly be in Mozambique. If I were president or a minister of transportation or something, chapa reform would be my number one priority.

We were in Vilanculos this weekend for all the normal reasons: shopping, pizza, escaping Machanga. But this weekend was also the third annual Beer Olympics. I feel like this was the event brought Moz 12 and Moz 13 together last, and I think the same was true between Moz 13 and Moz 14. We finally got to meet a ton of Moz 14s from the southern and northern parts of the country. Everybody had a pretty good time. And making it better, the Central/North team defeated the south, bringing the coconut monkey trophy back to where it belongs.

One other thought from Vilanculos: Pizza and beer, no matter what country one is in, is always a winning combination

School should be starting this week. We hope. We're both ready to do something productive. Hopefully my life will be more exciting next week.

I have had many lazy days here. I've had days where I've barely made it out of bed, days spent entirely on the patio being completely useless to the world. But Sunday might have topped all of those days. The rain from yesterday came to a halt, leaving blue sky scattered with cotton-ball clouds. The ocean was a spectacular shade of green. And the internet at the Vil girls' house was up and running.

I did manage to get some work done. Peace Corps has some online reporting that we fill out twice a year and this was my best shot to get it in. While we do have internet in Machanga (at my house and my house only), our internet is slow. Think AOL at the dawn of the internet era. I can't send attachments, which this Peace Corps work requires. So the beginning part of my morning was spent filling out some forms. But after that, it was pure internet gluttony. The truth is, I don't even know what to do when I'm online anymore. I've forgotten how to fill time. I keep reverting to the same sites -- ESPN, New York Times, Facebook -- but even the places I visit are foreign to me. I still managed to kill the vast majority of the morning on these sites and catching up with friends.

This "internet passear" lasted well passed lunch time until one of the girls proposed watching "Where the Wild Things Are". After reading the reviews for this movie in Time and Newsweek, I was really excited to watch the movie. For a children's book, the managed to add a little edge to it. More amazingly, the writers and directors managed to stretch out a 338-word book into a ninety-minute film. It was pretty good -- not worthy of another watch, but I don't feel like it was a waste of time.

By late afternoon, I was ready to make my way over to the backpackers. I didn't bother asking if I could stay the night on Sunday. I know how often that house gets visited and I feel bad staying over for more than one night. Plus, I'm pretty happy to have a night to myself. I plopped myself in a hammock, and as if on cue, my four American friends from earlier in the weekend popped up. They seemed to have pretty good trips -- two went snorkeling, two camped on one of the islands off Vilanculos. Our conversations picked up where the left off, trading stories and experiences, hardships and laughs.

I woke up Monday morning not quite ready to travel but ready to get home. I was out of clean clothes and living out of backpack is really no fun. Our house was empty on Sunday with Richie in Chimoio, Sozinho in Beira, and me in Vil. And neither would be home Monday night. That means I'd have a night to myself.

Along with the two Volunteers from Malawi, I walked down to the bus stop, hoping that the chapa would be running. Monday was a holiday in Vilanculos and I didn't know if it would affect the chapa schedule. It did, just not as I had expected. I arrived at the stand in 9:30, a full hour early, and the driver was ready to go. Luck was on my side further -- I was able to grab the front seat, which is always more comfortable than the other seats in the chapa.

The trip home was uneventful, its typical five hours. There were no problems on the chapa and I only to wait a little while to get a canoe across the river. What I came home to was beautiful. Things were quiet, as we are on school holiday. Most of the students and teachers have found their way home for the week.

More important, I had four packages waiting to be opened. I got into these like a boy on Christmas, excited to see what would come out of each box. I now have enough cake frosting to last me through my time here and I now have magazines that are actually dated 2010. You can only read the same news from seven months ago so many times. In just a few short hours, I managed to read two magazines cover to cover. Apparently, I have a problem with portion control.

This problem isn't just limited to reading. My dinner was probably enough for two people. I felt particularly lazy about dinner and opted to go with some of the food sent in one of the packages. There was a can of beef chili, which intrigued me. As I ate this meal, I realized two things. First, my chili is more delicious than canned chili. And second, my chili is a lot healthier than canned chili. I was horrified when I looked at the label and saw that I'd be gettting almost all of my daily recommended saturated fats.

Is it any wonder why Americans are obese? We have managed to take a perfectly healthy meal like chili and made it into a heart attack in a can. Well, as long as I'm going to have clogged arteries, I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. I cut up an avocado and threw it and some cheese on top. Now that's eating like an American!

There wasn't much point in watching anything. I feel bad about watching new stuff without Richie. Plus, I had a bounty of magazines to get through. This would provide plenty of entertainment for the next couple of nights.

I slept through the night, which was curious considering how hot it was as I went to bed. Before I could open my eyes, I heard the reason and then felt the reason why I slept so well. A storm blew in over night, cooling everything off. I woke up the sound of pounding rain on my roof and the feeling of a light mist blowing over my body. The rain, which usually heads north, moved south today, blowing directly into my bedroom. I was far from done in bed, so I rolled out of bed, closed the shutters, and crawled back into the discomfort of my bed for a couple hours (yea, my bed is uncomfortable, but it's better than my chairs).

Well, this day was shot. My morning was spent cooped in my house reading. The rain did not stop for the entire morning. So much for going to the market. The upside to all of this was I really needed to go to the pump to get water. Putting buckets outside my door and letting them fill naturally is always a better alternative. At some point in the morning, the winds changed, doubling back the storm. There goes sitting on the patio.

For one of my students from last year, however, it takes a lot more to make him give up. He's studying at a different school well north of here, but he had an English assignment for the holidays. I must say that it's these students that probably make me feel best -- I'm not their teacher anymore but they still come for help. This student was a good one. I spoke almost all English to him. He's the kind of student I didn't want to lose because he will probably pass the National Exam on the first shot.

By mid-afternoon, the rain had stopped and Sozinho came rolling into town. My peace of mind went as he arrived. I was pissed off at him anyway. We gave him more than enough money to get to Beira and back and he still asked for more money. As he walked up, I realized where my money went: pineapples. Don't get me wrong, I love pineapple, but I didn't ask for pineapple. There was no need to bring four of them. One of them would have sufficed. He's picking up the tab next time.

Then he dropped a bombshell on me, just the kind of thing to put a damper on a day. I did the courteous thing and asked how his trip was. As usual, he offered an ambiguous answer. "It was good. It was bad". Okay...go on. "I got the papers Richie and I needed." So that must be the good part. What's the bad part? "And I think all of my family is dead." I'll be honest: I'm not good with death (I mean, who is?) and I'm not good at consoling people in Portuguese. I didn't know what to say, so I pretty much stood there like an asshole.

The rest of the night was just awkward. I didn't feel much like talking and he didn't feel much like talking, which suited me just fine. I'm perfectly fine dining in silence. Again, I was entertainment free tonight, although I did see that Richie received "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell". I've read through the book two or three times already, so I expect it will make for good entertainment when Richie comes home.

I woke up to good news on Wednesday. My parents called shortly after I opened my eyes with news of a Sharks victory, tying the series at two. This was good news because there's no way they would win the series going down 3-1. And that, for the most part, was the peak of my day.

This day was incredibly boring and I was effectively useless to society. There are people who will say that we deserve the break. I don't know if that's true. This break is just sort of thrown on us. We can't really help it if everybody in the school, students and teachers alike, leaves for Beira for two weeks. So the day was spent on the patio -- thank goodness for clear weather. I spent most of the morning reading an Esquire magazine. I had never read Esquire before, but after reading one magazine, I can confidently say that I will be subscribing to this magazine when I get home.

Having read the Esquire cover to cover in the morning, I turned my attention to an Economist in the afternoon. When I became bored, I walked to the market to do some shopping. That's right, I walked to the market just so I could kill time. Earlier in the day, Sozinho actually made himself useful and brought shrimp home, so I knew what I had to get at the market for a decent dinner. The market run killed a good hour of my afternoon and within an hour of coming home, the energy was on. Sweet.

I had only one task to accomplish in the evening. Richie failed to print grades over the couple days I was gone, leaving me with this minor responsibility. This job shouldn't have taken more than a couple minutes, but all of the technology gods conspired against me to make this a half hour task. I guess it could have been worse -- it took away half an hour of sitting on my ass, doing nothing but playing Spider Solitaire.

For most of this week, it's been very easy to sleep. It hasn't been cold like it was for the first half of last week, but I'm not sweating anymore. I won't declare it winter yet, but there has been a definite turn in the weather. Wednesday night was no different. I slept through the entire night, no problem. Not a single wake up.

Thursday looked almost exactly the same as Wednesday, but even quieter. Some teachers were doing some work sorting out grades -- the kind of menial work that could be eliminated if the entire school got on board with using Excel. I mean, I'd love to spend my day pounding numbers into a calculator, but dragging the mouse down the page just seems to make a lot more sense.

Richie was on the road home Thursday. For most of the day, I was getting a play by play of his travel. For a while, it looked like he wasn't going to make it all the way home. It wouldn't be the first time that one of us falls short in getting home.

Late in the afternoon, I started getting antsy. Richie still wasn't home and he wasn't sending messages, and I can only sit so still for so long. I made my way to the market, thinking that Richie would be home by the time I got back. But when I walked in the house, his door was still locked. He must have gotten a really bad ride.

When he got home, he told me all about his bad rides, plural. One car badly overcharged him and didn't even make it half way home. Eventually he got into the Machanga chapa. Twelve kilometers from home, they blew a tire, swerved off the road and nearly hit a tree. Clearly, this would be a night that would end with cake. We had delicious beans for dinner -- you know they were good because Sozinho didn't continue cooking them for thirty minutes. Between beans and cake, we watched "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell". We were both left a little disappointed. We had high expectations. It wasn't nearly as raunchy as I expected and they combined way too many stories into an hour and forty five minutes. They could have done a lot more with this movie.

My Friday started with good news. The Sharks blew out the Avalanche 5-0 in Game 5 of their series. This is good news, considering the Sharks don't know how to win a Game 6. Hopefully they'll figure it out in Colorado this weekend.

The sun struggled to make its way out on Friday. Greyness enveloped the sky. Of course, we (or rather Sozinho) chose this day to wash our clothing. No less than an hour after he finished did the deluge begin. Wonderful. The chances of our clothes drying just about went out the window.

The rain stuck with us all morning, pinning us inside. We kept ourselves entertained with magazines while a strong wind pushed the rain out of town. It never got particularly sunny, but the wind stuck around. By the end of the windy afternoon, most of our clothing was dry. The sheets and jeans were still soaked, but some is better than none.

Our night was okay, no more exciting than usual. Richie wanted to watch something funny, so we watched "Pineapple Express". Every time I see a film with Seth Rogen, I think of my buddy Joe. This was especially appropriate as today is his birthday. We were done with the movie with more than an hour and half of energy ahead of us, so we returned to "Criminal Minds" for a little while.

I thought it would be a good idea to put up the line on our patio so our things could dry overnight. I wanted to use the strong wind to dry out my sheets. Sozinho thought it was going to rain, but I ignored his advice. After all, the stars were all out.

My gut proved me right. We didn't get a drop of rain all night and my sheets were perfectly dry. I'm never listening to Sozinho again. The wind remained strong all day, making us feel really cold. Yea, it was probably 60 or 65 degrees outside, but when you're coming down from 95 two weeks ago, it's a huge difference.

It was cold enough that by the time lunchtime rolled around, I was wearing a sweatshirt and Richie was in a hockey jersey. Oh winter, how we have waited for you. We weren't the only ones cold. The eight people who are still around were all balled up in pants, sweatshirts, jackets and beanies. Even though we went through this last year, I'm still shocked at how cold it can be here. I guess you just don't normally associate being cold with being in sub-Saharan Africa.

We were once again completely useless here. Nobody has returned and it looks like school won't begin next week like it should. So we sat around, thumbing through magazines, staying in bed for extending stretches, not being productive, drinking hot chocolate. It was a nice way to spend a cold day.

The wind finally settled down in the evening. We had another delicious night of Mexican food, especially since we had cheese this time around. We also had chicken, so we didn't even bother with the beans. It was delicious. We wrapped up this week by finishing up the first season of "Criminal Minds". The first season ended with the first part of a two-part episode and we don't have Season 2. We'll just have to wait till we get home to see who survives.

In the meantime, I'll just have another night of glorious, shivering in my sheets.

I have had many lazy days here. I've had days where I've barely made it out of bed, days spent entirely on the patio being completely useless to the world. But Sunday might have topped all of those days. The rain from yesterday came to a halt, leaving blue sky scattered with cotton-ball clouds. The ocean was a spectacular shade of green. And the internet at the Vil girls' house was up and running.

I did manage to get some work done. Peace Corps has some online reporting that we fill out twice a year and this was my best shot to get it in. While we do have internet in Machanga (at my house and my house only), our internet is slow. Think AOL at the dawn of the internet era. I can't send attachments, which this Peace Corps work requires. So the beginning part of my morning was spent filling out some forms. But after that, it was pure internet gluttony. The truth is, I don't even know what to do when I'm online anymore. I've forgotten how to fill time. I keep reverting to the same sites -- ESPN, New York Times, Facebook -- but even the places I visit are foreign to me. I still managed to kill the vast majority of the morning on these sites and catching up with friends.

This "internet passear" lasted well passed lunch time until one of the girls proposed watching "Where the Wild Things Are". After reading the reviews for this movie in Time and Newsweek, I was really excited to watch the movie. For a children's book, the managed to add a little edge to it. More amazingly, the writers and directors managed to stretch out a 338-word book into a ninety-minute film. It was pretty good -- not worthy of another watch, but I don't feel like it was a waste of time.

By late afternoon, I was ready to make my way over to the backpackers. I didn't bother asking if I could stay the night on Sunday. I know how often that house gets visited and I feel bad staying over for more than one night. Plus, I'm pretty happy to have a night to myself. I plopped myself in a hammock, and as if on cue, my four American friends from earlier in the weekend popped up. They seemed to have pretty good trips -- two went snorkeling, two camped on one of the islands off Vilanculos. Our conversations picked up where the left off, trading stories and experiences, hardships and laughs.

I woke up Monday morning not quite ready to travel but ready to get home. I was out of clean clothes and living out of backpack is really no fun. Our house was empty on Sunday with Richie in Chimoio, Sozinho in Beira, and me in Vil. And neither would be home Monday night. That means I'd have a night to myself.

Along with the two Volunteers from Malawi, I walked down to the bus stop, hoping that the chapa would be running. Monday was a holiday in Vilanculos and I didn't know if it would affect the chapa schedule. It did, just not as I had expected. I arrived at the stand in 9:30, a full hour early, and the driver was ready to go. Luck was on my side further -- I was able to grab the front seat, which is always more comfortable than the other seats in the chapa.

The trip home was uneventful, its typical five hours. There were no problems on the chapa and I only to wait a little while to get a canoe across the river. What I came home to was beautiful. Things were quiet, as we are on school holiday. Most of the students and teachers have found their way home for the week.

More important, I had four packages waiting to be opened. I got into these like a boy on Christmas, excited to see what would come out of each box. I now have enough cake frosting to last me through my time here and I now have magazines that are acutally dated 2010. You can only read the same news from seven months ago so many times. In just a few short hours, I managed to read two magazines cover to cover. Apparently, I have a problem with portion control.

This problem isn't just limited to reading. My dinner was probably enough for two people. I felt particularly lazy about dinner and opted to go with some of the food sent in one of the packages. There was a can of beef chili, which intrigued me. As I ate this meal, I realized two things. First, my chili is more delicious than canned chili. And second, my chili is a lot healthier than canned chili. I was horrified when I looked at the label and saw that I'd be gettting almost all of my daily recommended saturated fats.

Is it any wonder why Americans are obese? We have managed to take a perfectly healthy meal like chili and made it into a heart attack in a can. Well, as long as I'm going to have clogged arteries, I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. I cut up an avocado and threw it and some cheese on top. Now that's eating like an American!

There wasn't much point in watching anything. I feel bad about watching new stuff without Richie. Plus, I had a bounty of magazines to get through. This would provide plenty of entertainment for the next couple of nights.

I slept through the night, which was curious considering how hot it was as I went to bed. Before I could open my eyes, I heard the reason and then felt the reason why I slept so well. A storm blew in over night, cooling everything off. I woke up the sound of pounding rain on my roof and the feeling of a light mist blowing over my body. The rain, which usually heads north, moved south today, blowing directly into my bedroom. I was far from done in bed, so I rolled out of bed, closed the shutters, and crawled back into the discomfort of my bed for a couple hours (yea, my bed is uncomfortable, but it's better than my chairs).

Well, this day was shot. My morning was spent cooped in my house reading. The rain did not stop for the entire morning. So much for going to the market. The upside to all of this was I really needed to go to the pump to get water. Putting buckets outside my door and letting them fill naturally is always a better alternative. At some point in the morning, the winds changed, doubling back the storm. There goes sitting on the patio.

For one of my students from last year, however, it takes a lot more to make him give up. He's studying at a different school well north of here, but he had an English assignment for the holidays. I must say that it's these students that probably make me feel best -- I'm not their teacher anymore but they still come for help. This student was a good one. I spoke almost all English to him. He's the kind of student I didn't want to lose because he will probably pass the National Exam on the first shot.

By mid-afternoon, the rain had stopped and Sozinho came rolling into town. My peace of mind went as he arrived. I was pissed off at him anyway. We gave him more than enough money to get to Beira and back and he still asked for more money. As he walked up, I realized where my money went: pineapples. Don't get me wrong, I love pineapple, but I didn't ask for pineapple. There was no need to bring four of them. One of them would have sufficed. He's picking up the tab next time.

Then he dropped a bombshell on me, just the kind of thing to put a damper on a day. I did the courteous thing and asked how his trip was. As usual, he offered an ambiguous answer. "It was good. It was bad". Okay...go on. "I got the papers Richie and I needed." So that must be the good part. What's the bad part? "And I think all of my family is dead." I'll be honest: I'm not good with death (I mean, who is?) and I'm not good at consoling people in Portuguese. I didn't know what to say, so I pretty much stood there like an asshole.

The rest of the night was just awkward. I didn't feel much like talking and he didn't feel much like talking, which suited me just fine. I'm perfectly fine dining in silence. Again, I was entertainment free tonight, although I did see that Richie received "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell". I've read through the book two or three times already, so I expect it will make for good entertainment when Richie comes home.

I woke up to good news on Wednesday. My parents called shortly after I opened my eyes with news of a Sharks victory, tying the series at two. This was good news because there's no way they would win the series going down 3-1. And that, for the most part, was the peak of my day.

This day was incredibly boring and I was effectively useless to society. There are people who will say that we deserve the break. I don't know if that's true. This break is just sort of thrown on us. We can't really help it if everybody in the school, students and teachers alike, leaves for Beira for two weeks. So the day was spent on the patio -- thank goodness for clear weather. I spent most of the morning reading an Esquire magazine. I had never read Esquire before, but after reading one magazine, I can confidently say that I will be subscribing to this magazine when I get home.

Having read the Esquire cover to cover in the morning, I turned my attention to an Economist in the afternoon. When I became bored, I walked to the market to do some shopping. That's right, I walked to the market just so I could kill time. Earlier in the day, Sozinho actually made himself useful and brought shrimp home, so I knew what I had to get at the market for a decent dinner. The market run killed a good hour of my afternoon and within an hour of coming home, the energy was on. Sweet.

I had only one task to accomplish in the evening. Richie failed to print grades over the couple days I was gone, leaving me with this minor responsibility. This job shouldn't have taken more than a couple minutes, but all of the technology gods conspired against me to make this a half hour task. I guess it could have been worse -- it took away half an hour of sitting on my ass, doing nothing but playing Spider Solitaire.

For most of this week, it's been very easy to sleep. It hasn't been cold like it was for the first half of last week, but I'm not sweating anymore. I won't declare it winter yet, but there has been a definite turn in the weather. Wednesday night was no different. I slept through the entire night, no problem. Not a single wake up.

Thursday looked almost exactly the same as Wednesday, but even quieter. Some teachers were doing some work sorting out grades -- the kind of menial work that could be eliminated if the entire school got on board with using Excel. I mean, I'd love to spend my day pounding numbers into a calculator, but dragging the mouse down the page just seems to make a lot more sense.

Richie was on the road home Thursday. For most of the day, I was getting a play by play of his travel. For a while, it looked like he wasn't going to make it all the way home. It wouldn't be the first time that one of us falls short in getting home.

Late in the afternoon, I started getting antsy. Richie still wasn't home and he wasn't sending messages, and I can only sit so still for so long. I made my way to the market, thinking that Richie would be home by the time I got back. But when I walked in the house, his door was still locked. He must have gotten a really bad ride.

When he got home, he told me all about his bad rides, plural. One car badly overcharged him and didn't even make it half way home. Eventually he got into the Machanga chapa. Twelve kilometers from home, they blew a tire, swerved off the road and nearly hit a tree. Clearly, this would be a night that would end with cake. We had delicious beans for dinner -- you know they were good because Sozinho didn't continue cooking them for thirty minutes. Between beans and cake, we watched "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell". We were both left a little disappointed. We had high expectations. It wasn't nearly as raunchy as I expected and they combined way too many stories into an hour and forty five minutes. They could have done a lot more with this movie.

My Friday started with good news. The Sharks blew out the Avalance 5-0 in Game 5 of their series. This is good news, considering the Sharks don't know how to win a Game 6. Hopefully they'll figure it out in Colorado this weekend.

The sun struggled to make its way out on Friday. Greyness enveloped the sky. Of course, we (or rather Sozinho) chose this day to wash our clothing. No less than an hour after he finished did the deluge begin. Wonderful. The chances of our clothes drying just about went out the window.

The rain stuck with us all morning, pinning us inside. We kept ourselves entertained with magazines while a strong wind pushed the rain out of town. It never got particularly sunny, but the wind stuck around. By the end of the windy afternoon, most of our clothing was dry. The sheets and jeans were still soaked, but some is better than none.

Our night was okay, no more exciting than usual. Richie wanted to watch something funny, so we watched "Pineapple Express". Every time I see a film with Seth Rogen, I think of my buddy Joe. This was especially appropriate as today is his birthday. We were done with the movie with more than an hour and half of energy ahead of us, so we returned to "Criminal Minds" for a little while.

I thought it would be a good idea to put up the line on our patio so our things could dry overnight. I wanted to use the strong wind to dry out my sheets. Sozinho thought it was going to rain, but I ignored his advice. After all, the stars were all out.

My gut proved me right. We didn't get a drop of rain all night and my sheets were perfectly dry. I'm never listening to Sozinho again. The wind remained strong all day, making us feel really cold. Yea, it was probably 60 or 65 degrees outside, but when you're coming down from 95 two weeks ago, it's a huge difference.

It was cold enough that by the time lunchtime rolled around, I was wearing a sweatshirt and Richie was in a hockey jersey. Oh winter, how we have waited for you. We weren't the only ones cold. The eight people who are still around were all balled up in pants, sweatshirts, jackets and beanies. Even though we went through this last year, I'm still shocked at how cold it can be here. I guess you just don't normally associate being cold with being in sub-Saharan Africa.

We were once again completely useless here. Nobody has returned and it looks like school won't begin next week like it should. So we sat around, thumbing through magazines, staying in bed for extending stretches, not being productive, drinking hot chocolate. It was a nice way to spend a cold day.

The wind finally settled down in the evening. We had another delicious night of Mexican food, especially since we had cheese this time around. We also had chicken, so we didn't even bother with the beans. It was delicious. We wrapped up this week by finishing up the first season of "Criminal Minds". The first season ended with the first part of a two-part episode and we don't have Season 2. We'll just have to wait till we get home to see who survives.

In the meantime, I'll just have another night of glorious, shvivering in my sheets.

If there is a way to completely disappear from the world have almost no one know about it, then Richie and I nearly managed to pull it off on Sunday. The cloud-cover that rolled in last night stuck around into Sunday. More important than the clouds and the rain was the coldness that came with them. For the first time in months, I managed to sleep through the night. And when I woke up, minutes before a call from my parents, my sheets were not drenched in sweat.

It was one of those days that even if we wanted to do something, we probably would not have been able. The rain for the most part prevented us from going to the villa for whatever reason. Hell, we couldn't even sit on our own patio because the rain blew directly onto our porch. So the day was spent inside, and if we are going to be trapped in our own house, the most comfortable place to be is in bed. It's not because the beds are so incredibly comfortable -- they are actually quite uncomfortable -- but because there is not a single comfortable chair in all of Machanga. Given the choice between uncomfortable in a bed and uncomfortable in a chair, I'll always take uncomfortable in bed.

Not only did we get the rain and the cold, but the wind decided to change directions and blow through our house, making our house quite chilly. This was the perfect day to stay in bed. Over the course of the day, there couldn't have been more than three hours that both of us were up and out of bed, at least until the energy came on.

Sozinho had cooked beans for lunch -- terribly, at that -- but he left some unused. These quickly became my dinner, while Richie and Sozinho split some fish. We made a return to "Criminal Minds" tonight for the first time in a months. We gave this show a shot, expecting it to be like "Dexter", but it wasn't at all like "Dexter", leaving us disappointed. With that out of our minds, we let it into the line-up again, and it's actually pretty good. Richie and I agree that a) people on TV are stupid and should probably consider locking their doors; and b) we both want to put iron bars over our windows. The show has sufficiently freaked us out.

My night ended in a way it hasn't in months: a call from one of my best friends at home. It had been months since I'd spoken to him, and although I wasn't particularly concerned -- I know he's crazy busy with school -- it still sucked not chatting with him.

Although the rain had stopped, the cold stuck around for a second consecutive night. I don't want to jinx it, but such a cold spell has us wondering, is this the start of winter? I remember last year, some teachers said that one day it's summer and the next day it's winter. If that's the case, then April 11th was the day of the change-over. Regardless, I won't complain about being able to sleep through the night.

School has nearly come to a complete halt. For the most part, teachers, including Richie and me, have given their final exams and it's just a matter of grading and returning. Richie, being a sucker, got roped into watching a Portuguese exam. He couldn't help but laugh at the fact that the students started asking him for answers by the end of the exam.

Monday is my regular day off, so not doing much was pretty normal for me. With the rain no longer blowing into our patio, I was able to kick my feet up...until a teacher needed some math help. I was able to figure out one problem after about 25 minutes of failure. He ended up figuring out the other problem. He claims I helped him in resolving it, but what I did wasn't particularly helpful.

Other than that, it was a pretty lazy day. Richie and I headed over to the market in the middle of a beautifully clear-skied but cool afternoon. We are trying to make a better effort to get more protein in our diet, so we bought a frozen chicken for dinner.

Whenever we've bought chicken, we've only cooked in one way -- grilled. It's fairly easy with the charcoal we use anyways and it's generally delicious. But I chose to be ambitious today and tried roasted the bird. I had never done this before -- in America or Mozambique -- so I didn't know what to expect. I certainly didn't expect it to take as long as it did. But wow! did patience pay off. This chicken was juicier than any chicken we'd had in this country.

For some reason, however, this wasn't good enough for Sozinho, and he decided to cook it in a stew. Sometimes I don't get this kid. Actually, most of the time I don't get him. He didn't even try to eat the chicken the way I prepared it. It's kind of disrespectful. Whatever. I know that whatever he did could not have improved what I made. And watching "Criminal Minds" again took my thoughts away from wanting to kill Sozinho and put them on other people getting killed.

Tuesday marked the official end of the first school trimester. For me anyways. Richie has been done for a while and some teachers will be giving exams this week. Judging from last year, I knew that other teachers would give their exams on their whim, using other teachers' teaching slots without telling them. This is why Richie and I (as well as other teachers) tend to give exams the week before final week. All I had to do on Tuesday was hand back the exams.

Returning exams isn't at all a difficult task. Students rarely care why the answers are what they; they just care if they passed or failed. On this final, about 60% of the students passed. Given that all of the questions were from National Exams, this is pretty good. It looks especially good when taking into account that only 18% of my students from last year passed the National Exam last November. There might be hope for some of these kids.

I would have liked to have gone in, handing back the exams, taken questions, and then moved onto the next class, but one of our friends decided to give his biology exam during my teaching time. And not only that, he got me to control during his exam. I'm sure the students thought I was going to be an easy controller, at least easier than some Mozambican teachers. They were wrong. I didn't catch anyone blatently cheating -- cheatsheets, open notebooks -- but I moved four or five kids who couldn't keep their mouths shut or their eyes on their own paper. These students are probably thrilled that I am no longer their English teacher.

I wasn't too angered to control this exam, especially after I got a peek at it. The teacher had typed everything by himself. I had given him a quick lesson on subscripts, superscripts and designing the night before, so I was thrilled to see that he had put all of these things to use on his exam. I have decided that if I get nothing accomplished in these two years besides making some of these teachers more tech-literate, I'll be okay with that.

After controlling his exam, I went over to my second class to turn in their English exams. People were mostly satisfied with their grades, and as usual, there were no questions about their scores. For the first time in a while, I didn't screw up any of the math on the grading. One kid, especially pissed off because of his failing grade, said, "I don't think there are more than six people who passed this exams". I, knowing better, asked for students with passing grades to put their hands up. More than half the class raised their hands. Embarrassed, the kid shut up.

The rest of the afternoon and the evening were calm. At some point, I got called into the director's office to do some computer work, but other than that, we did a lot of sitting around doing nothing. For our evening entertainment, we moved away from "Criminal Minds", wanting to give "Mad Men" a shot. One episode in, we decided to go back to "Criminal Minds". If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

After our episod of "Mad Men", Richie and I realized that we were both still hungry. Richie had dined on the delicacy that is the sardine sandwich (I refuse to participate in that) while I ate spaghetti. I jokingly said that "we could make a cake". He unjokingly replied, "yea". We didn't have the right ingredients but we did have a box mix. All we needed were eggs, oil, and water, and those are three ingredients that we are rarely short on. The other minor obstacle we faces was we didn't have a cake pan big enough. We cut the recipe in thirds and it turned out okay. I mean, it's cake. How bad can it be?

It wasn't super hot, like it has been for most of the year, but the coolness of the last couple nights disappeared. There was no struggle to sleep by any means, but it wasn't nearly as comfortable as our few nights of cold.

A couple of afternoons ago, while at the market, a spoke with an English teacher about doing some computer work with him. I told him how easy it was to keep grades in Excel and he was intrigued. I like this particular teacher. He is young, tech-savvy, willing to go beyond the paper forms that his school gives him, and his English is pretty good. We rarely converse in Portuguese. As I showed him the power of Excel, I explained everything in English. He only wanted a Portuguese explanation at the end, so he could pass the knowledge on to his colleagues at the secondary school.m

Beyond this piece of tech help, there was one more thing I had to do, and I wasn't sure if it was possible. One of the teachers had a document that was saved as docx. I guess this is from the newest version of Microsoft Office, but I'm not sure. Of course, none of the computers here had the capability to open such a document, but I had an idea. I don't use Microsoft Office -- when my computer crashed, Office went with it -- but I use OpenOffice, a shareware quasi-equivalent. My guess was that the newest version of OpenOffice could open docx documents, and I was right. Victory! My work is done for the day.

Just before lunch, I headed over to the market. We were lacking food of all sorts and most importantly, we needed something that would qualify as a dinner food. We were really hoping to buy beef in the market, but our expectations were low. They have been out of beef the last couple days. But I came across something quite possibly better than beef: avocado! Today was the first day in almost a year that the holiness that is the avocado had appeared in our market. I made the decision then and there that we were doing a full-blown Mexican night, complete with sombreros.

Richie and I passed the afternoon in pretty much the same way -- doing nothing in particular. Richie tried giving beginner kakuro a shot while I struggled with the advanced puzzles (it's been a rough few weeks with that game). All I heard from his side were grumblings of "I hate this game" and the sound of the eraser on the paper. This was entertainment enough for me. I also took me a nap of catatonic proportion. I woke up ninety minutes later not knowing where I was -- a blissful thirty seconds.

The Mexican food night extravaganza began late Wednesday afternoon. Only one of our two burners is functional these days, and with a lot of cooking ahead, we knew that lighting the charcoal would be a good idea. Beans tend to cook better on an open fire anyway, so it was a blessing I guess. Everything turned out perfectly. The beans were cooked all the way through and not liquidy at all, the rice was fluffy, the salsa spicy, the guacamole creamy, and even the homemade tortillas were pretty good. Richie and I each got through our two tortillas-worth of food, and we still had a ton of food left over. Richie gave in, but I foolishly marched on. Fifteen minutes later, all the food was gone. I wallowed in the glorious pain of being overstuffed while watching "Criminal Minds" until the lights went out on us.

Thursday was largely uneventful for us. The heat that had left us earlier in the week came back, although not in full force. Sleeping was still okay, but it was evident as soon as we set foot outside that it was hot. With no school responsibility and a filthy room in front of me, I realized that this would be the perfect day to get things cleaned up and organized. It has been months since I cleaned under my bed, and with the recent track of ants I've noticed, there must be a significant-sized insect cemetery down there. My cleaning inspired Richie. He got cleaning as well. By 10:00, we had a pristine house. Now we just had to kill off the rest of the morning.

We lounged around for most of the afternoon, but eventually we found the inspiration to get up, go to the market, and get some sodas. While we were there,we picked up some meat from the butcher. We once agin did not get a particularly good cut of meat. All they had was bone-in meat. We usually avoid this because it's such a hassle, but we really wanted steak.

Half way through preparing it, we realized we had made a terrible mistake. As we sat eating our bony, rubbery meat, we vowed that we were going with boneless beef or nothing at all. A little bit of "Criminal Minds" made things better until the power went out.

Friday was a travel day for me. When heading to Vilanculos, I am usually with Richie and we are usually out of the house well before 7:00. But today was very different. For one, Richie decided to stay in. He has some other traveling to do next week and he didn't want to head south before heading north. Secondly, I also got a later start than usual. I felt particularly lazy and didn't get rolling out of the house until 7:04.

Why 7:04, you ask? Leaving at four minutes after made the math easy on what time I would need to arrive in Vilanculos to break the record of 3:56. As I thought about it, getting to Vil by 11 seemed like a near impossibility. But as I got rolling, things looked promising. There was no wait time for the boat and I had a chapa out of Mambone before I could even hit the villa. Then the biggest hit of all came: I got a private car from Maluvane all the way down to just outside Vilanculos.

We were cruising along at 120 kilometers per hour when my dreams were shattered: we got pulled over for speeding. The driver got hit with a 1000 Metical ticket. It's only 30 some dollars but, it's a huge sum of money here. Although I was saddened that my shot of breaking the record was gone, I was sadder for this poor guy who had to pay a massive fine.

All said, I made it to Vilanculos in four hours and fourteen minutes, the second fastest time for me. I can't say I was angry with that. Making it to Vilanculos before noon is always an accomplishment. Per my normal routine, I went straight to New York Pizza, and I actually had company this time around. Two of the Volunteers stationed in Vil came over to join me. I hadn't seen either of them in a while, so it was nice to catch up.

Following lunch, all of us made our way to the other side of town. I was really hoping to get some work done and to pick up some new media, but it wasn't in the cards. My hard drive isn't mac compatible apparently, so that was kind of a bummer. And I needed Excel to get my work done and a computer wasn't available to me. So like so many things here, I'll have to wait.

In the meantime, I headed over to our regular backpackers place. While I was there, something strange happened: there were a lot of Americans there. Okay, not a lot, but four. But for a country like Mozambique, four Americans who are Volunteers in Mozambique is a huge number. I soon found out the truth: two of them are Volunteers in Malawi and one was a Volunteer in Zambia ten years ago. He returned for the first time with his wife on their honeymoon and they are currently continuing through Mozambique to South Africa. It was especially cool to talk to that guy because I realized how much things had changed. I couldn't imagine doing two years here without a cell phone or internet access. How the world has changed in a decade.

I had probably my best night of sleep at the backpackers place ever. It helped that no one was there, so I was able to stack one mattress on top, making a super-mattress. All of my new friends left in the morning to go on island adventures, so I headed out as well, back to the Volunteer's house here. I went again with the hope of getting work done, but the power was out all morning and well into the afternoon, killing any shot of getting work done.

Just when we thought all hope was lost, the energy came on, and I got to work. Okay, not work. But I had some serious downloading to do. My brother sent me some new music and this would be the fastest internet for me in a while. He expected the downloads to be done in minutes, but what I consider fast internet is still horrifyingly slow. Regardless, I got one album downloaded before going to bed. At least I'll have something to hold me over until the music madness that will be coming in May.

Though I am not accustomed to going to bed at 2 in the morning, I still woke up fairly refreshed. Unlike the sleep I usually get in Machanga, this sleep was a deep sleep. I did not wake up a single time. I guess that's proof enough that six hours of good sleep is better than nine hours of really shitty sleep. When all of us were awake, we straightened up the house to a sufficient level of cleanliness and I was on my way.

The two other Volunteers who were with me had very short trips to make, no more than 90 minutes each. And for each of them, there is never a shortage of chapas. I, however, was a little concerned. Being Easter Sunday, I wasn't sure if the chapa would be running. Our driver has a history of not driving on holidays, so I got to the chapa stop early, and anticipated the worst. If he hadn't arrived, it would have been easy enough to take three different chapas home. For some reason, though, Easter isn't a holy enough day to cancel his route -- good news for me.

What I have come to realize is that this particular driver is a really shitty driver. It's not just that he drives slower than he should. He also doesn't know how to say "no". It doesn't matter how long a person needs to stay on. He's happy to collect even a few Meticais. While I certainly appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit, it pisses me off to no end that he's willing to pick up people who could walk the same distance quite easily. All the stopping and starting added a good chunk of time to hour trip.

Another 45 minutes was added waiting at the river. The holiday apparently kept people on their respective sides of the river. Finally, enough people showed up to make the trip worthwhile for the boatman. All said, I didn't make it back to Machanga until well after 3 in the afternoon. What normally take takes four and a half hours took nearly six today.

Of course, I was hungry following such a trip. I had the foresight to buy a couple avocados while in Vilanculos, and this provided the perfect post-trip snack. A bit of good fortune was also on our side today: one of the stores had a truck of frozen chickens arrive. We would eat like kings tonight: chicken, salsa, guacamole and rice, a veritable feast.

A physics teacher had come by earlier in the day requesting help with some exams. Richie had already typed out most of the pages, but he needed some help formatting the last one. It was easy enough.

If I had no obligations on Monday, I probably would have stayed in Vilanculos for the extra day, but Richie roped me into proctoring an exam at the ungodly hour of 7:00 AM. I will not forgive him for this. Not only was the hour insane, but as I have made abundantly clear in the past, proctoring exams is one of the worst activities we do here. His little (and I really do mean little) eighth graders were taking their final exam today. I wasn't nearly as vigilant as I would be with my students, but I still nailed a kid cheating. He wasn't even creative: he had his notebook laid open on his lap. Sigh...they learn so young.

In one fell swoop, Richie ruined my day. Asshole. There was only one solution for this: a story of death and vengeance. Richie has praised the book "The Count of Monte Cristo" to no end, and with some time on my hands this week, I figured it would be worth the read. From 8:15 in the morning until the well into the afternoon, I struggled to put to the book down. This is the kind of book that every sixteen year old boy should read. It might keep them interested in reading.

While I sat in the house reading, a very strange thing happened: it rained. And it didn't rain just a little bit. It rained hard for hours on end. I would have thought this would be a good thing, but apparently, the hard rain did a good amount of damage to the gardens behind our house. It seems like we can't live with the rain and we can't live without it. Greedily, I was happy because it cooled this place off a little bit.

My day wasn't the only one that was ruined. Richie had even more exams to give, so his day was ruined even further. I can be forgiven for seeking some pleasure in his pain, can't I? In months past, there is a singular solution to such suffering: baked goods. We haven't made cookies in months, but all of that changed tonight. We were mildly concerned about our oats being expired, but as we have come to learn, don't trust expiration dates and don't trust "must be refrigerated" warnings. They are bullshit. The oats were fine and the cookies were delicious.

The only downside for the night is that we finished our last episodes of "How I Met Your Mother". I'm going to be honest: I'm kind of ready to know who she is. I'm four seasons committed and there isn't even a hint of who she is. I guess that's how they keep you coming back. In place of said series, we moved onto "The Big Bang Theory". I had heard good things but Richie was skeptical. Ten minutes into the first episode, we had approved of it.

The night here was ridiculously hot, just as it had been the night before. All of our little fans have broken. They lasted about a year, which was a pretty good run. I'd ask for more, but by the time they get here, we will be well into the cold season, and then we'll only have to suffer a little in September and October. For now, though, I continue to wake up to sweat-drenched sheets.

I dove right back into "The Count of Monte Cristo". At this rate, this 530-page book is not going to last me very long. I finally got to the part of the book when the Count starts to carry out his revenge. There are so many pieces to this little puzzle, it's quite beautiful to see it all come together.

I had two work-related interruptions in the afternoon. The first was my own work. My last two classes of the trimester were this afternoon. Even though the weeks have been almost painfully slow, this trimester has gone by fast enough. All I had was a brief review of what would be on the exam. It's pretty easy for a final exam: study what we did this trimester.

The second interruption was another request for an exam. One of our best friends, the French teacher, came over in need of a typed exam. He wanted to dictate the exam to me, which would have been a royal pain in the ass, seeing as the extent of my French is limited to pastries. I objected to this, but told him to stick around in case I made mistakes. He still sat by my side and watched me type, impressed at how quickly I was able to type in French. In the end, it's all the same. Letters are letters, regardless of order or language.

I came achingly close to finishing my book before the energy came on. There was beef in the market in the market today, and for some reason, we got a great cut of meat tonight. It's hard to call the guy who kills meat here a "butcher" because he doesn't know how to cut meat. He just takes an ax and a saw and goes to work. But tonight, we had a nice lean cut of meat.

With plenty of energy left, we decided to watch a movie, "Yes Man". It was funny through the first hour until Richie's computer froze. We tried to start it again, but it froze again minutes later. That's grounds for giving up. I curled into bed with my book until the lights went out.

I refused to get out of bed until I finished my book on Wednesday. There wasn't a whole lot to go, maybe 30 pages. In most cases, I would say that bed always beats no bed. These days, though, I'm starting to question that line of thinking. It has been so hot these days that our sheets are literally wet when we wake up (and no, neither of us has a peeing in bed problem). Plus, absolutely no breeze passes through our house. I believe that we have the right to complain. Why do I say this? Because our Mozambican colleagues tell us that it's fuckin hot and even they are having trouble sleeping. I figure if they, who were born and bred here, are complaining about the weather, we can too.

My book finished -- the last couple chapters were kind of a letdown -- I had absolutely nothing to do on Wednesday. Wednesday was a holiday in Mozambique: Mozambican Woman's Day. Women definitely carry the workload in this country. The men may have the glorified positions in government and civil service and teaching, but you rarely see a man with a baby tied to his back throwing a ho in a corn field. So yea, women in this country earn this day off.

Of course, the whole town pretty much shut down for this holiday. School, in spite of being in the middle of finals week, was closed for the day. The truth is that the school probably could have functioned just fine, even without the female teachers. Less than 10% of the teachers here are female, so the impact would be minimal. But that can't be done -- it's a holiday, and if it's a holiday, there's drinking to do.

Usually, this is a day that would be right in our wheelhouse. Booze, food, not working -- it's a perfect combination. But Richie and I weren't really up for it today. Both of us were pretty lethargic. The heat from last night and into this morning sucked the life out of us. We attended one party briefly. The goat they cooked up was pretty good, but the beer was horrifyingly warm. Like, there wasn't even an effort at refrigeration. The spelled the end for me. There was another party in the villa, but that required walking to the villa, and sitting on our patio seemed like a far better option.

Richie was in the mood to see death and destruction. I can never blame him for this. I think it's one of the side effects of living in Machanga. We turned to a movie with guaranteed gore: "300". I've never been a fan of these illustrated novel type movies, but "V for Vendetta" was awesome, so I figured this would be okay. And okay is what I would call it. It wasn't great, it wasn't bad. Some of the effects were cool, but for the most part, it was just there. Not nearly as good as "V for Vendetta".

I had a truly terrible night of sleep Wednesday night. It was hot beyond imagination and I couldn't fall asleep until nearly midnight. Then I was up at 4:00 for some ungodly reason. And then to top it off, I was awakened by my phone buzzing. At this hour, it's usually a hockey score, but this was no text message. This was a phone call from Richie. "Hey man, can you come to the school and control an exam?" You son of a bitch. It's 7 in the morning, I'm still in bed, haven't brushed my teeth, haven't even thought about putting pants on. And you want me to work? Fine. I scrambled my way out of bed, into clothes, and over to the school.

Oh controlling exams, how I hate you. I will not forgive Richie for this. I caught one kid ogling his neighbor's paper like it was covered with Swedish supermodels...three minutes into the exam. He was moved immediately. Other than that, these kids weren't so bad. Some girl rolled in twenty-five minutes late and got right to work. I though, "Wow, she's going to bang out this exam in 20 minutes." Nope. She wrote all of the parts to the exam except the answers. Her paper looked like this: "The five kingdoms of living beings are: 1)_____2)_____ 3)_____4)_____5)_____ " Beautiful. I don't know a damn thing about biology, but even I could grade her exam.

Well, proctoring an exam while still half-asleep put me in just a wonderful mood. It was a good thing I had nothing to do today. I'm playing the waiting game until Friday to give my exam. It's the only day when I have all of my students for two hours each. The only downside was that a nap was out of the question. Despite being exhausted, I knew that if I napped during the day, I wouldn't sleep at night. What a sick trade-off that is.

At some point, a a group of seven year olds came over to my house. "Teacher, we want to learn some English words". Like anyone else, I asked them what words they wanted to know. They ended up learning seven or eight words, including "door", "bucket", "chair" and "shoes". Tragically, I'm pretty sure that these kids no more English than some of my twelfth graders.

To kill some time in the afternoon, Richie and I wandered over to the market. The price of stuff here has skyrocketed in the last couple weeks. The price of a bottle of Coke has jumped from ten Mets in December to twelve Mets in February to fifteen Mets today. Kinda sucks, but what can you do? It's still delicious.

I cooked beans for the first time this week. I really half-assed it, and it showed. The beans were undercooked, and I forgot garlic. That's a huge fail. Whatever. Richie, as usual, wasn't eating dinner, so it was only one of us who had to suffer. Following exam day, we knew we had to watch something funny, so we returned to "The Big Bang Theory" before going to bed.

Friday was the day for my students, but they would have to suffer until the afternoon to take my exam. While they waited to meet their fate, I did some work for the French teacher. He had another exam he wanted typed up, and of course I said okay. Why should he take five hours to type the exam when I can do it in 20 minutes? Not surprisingly, not a single students came over for help or clarification before the exam -- not today, not any other day. I don't know if they are too proud to ask for help or would be too ashamed or are just not used to teachers willing to help, but I offer to help them every time, and every time, no one comes over.

This test, I will say, is probably the most difficult test I've given in my year-plus here. Every question was taken from national exams from years before, there was a ton of vocabulary (most of them cognates) that would be new to them. But seriously, if you can't figure out that negligent is negligente, you might have bigger problems. Plus, on top of the all the new vocabulary, I told them I wouldn't be helping them define certain words. They were on their own, just like they would be on their national exam in November.

So there I stood, for more than three hours, watching my students take exams. Some of them tried to ask for help, but when they asked, I just shrugged my shoulders like I was the one learning English. For the first time in ages, I had no cheaters and I didn't even have to move anyone. They finally realize that I mean business on exam day. The only thing that is slightly concerning is there is a group of students in one of my classes who have not taken a single one of my exams this year. I saw them just sitting under a tree during my exam and they walked in after the exam was done. The truth is, these aren't particularly good students, and they would probably fail the exam anyway. They are just making it easier for me to grade. I have no problem giving out zeroes.

I wanted to get grading right away. 100 exams times 40 questions per exam is a lot. My saving grace was this exam was multiple choice. Ten exams into grading, I pretty much had the sequence memorized and could get through an exam in about a minute or two. I managed to knock out one of two classes before the energy came on and set aside the other class for tomorrow.

For the first time in a while, I was called in on serious tech duty. One of the computers wasn't starting up at all, which was just a little curious for me and a little disconcerting for some teachers because they needed to get documents from this computer. Sure, most of these computers have viruses, but even the most severely infected ones turn on before they shut down. I looked through all the basic stuff -- cables, wires, etc -- and everything seemed in place. I opened her up, and couldn't notice any disconnections. So I went to a last result: I popped out the hard drive, put it another computer, and voila! we had a running computer. The teachers were very grateful for my assistance. While I was out, Richie had cooked up some shrimp and rice. We watched some "Big Bang Theory" while eating, and when the energy when out, we were out too.

I immediately went back to work on Saturday morning. I wanted to get these papers graded as quickly as possible. Usually, the science-track students do better than the language-track students, but that was not the case on this exam. I think the reading comprehension section really messed with them. The difference wasn't too noticeable -- a slightly lower passing rate and a slightly lower average score. Nothing too noticeable, but noticeable to me because they are normally significantly better. Either way, I was done grading by noon, which means I'm done with work until about May!

There was some sort of festa going on in town today, some sort of cultural day. Richie, being the muzungu representative, went to the even while I stayed home and graded papers. Following this event was a soccer game featuring a team from Mambone and a team from Machanga. This is not something I'd usually attend, but Gary came over from across the river. They told him that the game would be in the morning. I laughed when he said this, knowing that most of these games don't start until 4 in the afternoon. And I was right. In the meantime, Gary came over for the better part of the afternoon. We introduced him to the glory that is potato pancakes and egg sandwiches.

Around 4:30, we wandered over to the field to watch the soccer game. It was a terrible game -- a zero-zero tie. While we were there, I think there were two shots on goal. Gotta love soccer. We needed something to make us feel better after that train wreck of a game, so we said goodbye to Gary and walked over to the vila for a soda. One of the stores actually head Pepsi, a rare deviation from the normal Coca-Cola. And everyone knows that Pepsi is better than Coke. I was very happy. My happiness increased when we found out there was beef in the market. We're eating well tonight.

Richie didn't want to do anything fancy. He just wanted meat. I see nothing wrong with that. I tried to make mashed potatoes, but I undercooked the potatoes and we didn't have better. It's tough to fuck up mashed potatoes, but I figured out a way to do it. The steak was still pretty good -- not as good as what we had earlier in the week, but not bad.

I got called back to teach duty tonight with a much simpler task. A teacher wanted me to transfer documents from a computer to his laptop. My work was done in five minutes, and thank god it didn't take longer. Within minutes of me getting home, the deluge began. It rained for the better part of the night. At least it should make for easier sleeping.

If it is possible to be noisy and quiet at the same time, this past Sunday was just that. The church was very busy today. Even Sozinho went to church. He came back with a palm leaf, so I came to reason that it was Palm Sunday. While there was plenty of noise in the church, the house that the godless hedons live in -- our house -- was nice and quiet.

With this new week, it seems that my headaches have mostly gone away. There is still some residual pain, so I considered it best to continue taking aspirin. One of the reasons I don't particularly enjoy taking pills is that most problems will go away naturally, but this headache was persistent and quite painful. The other reason I don't like taking pills is that I believe that you lose some tolerance as you take them more often. Clearly, I'm no doctor, but there have been enough people who become way addicted to pain killers that it pretty much scares me to take pain meds.

I spent most of the morning reading "Dexter in the Dark", one of the books about our favorite television character. I must say that the thing we like most about "Dexter" is the killing part. And over 302 pages, there was way too much plot and not nearly enough death. I was about half way through the book when...

After an otherwise pain-free morning, a whole new different kind of pain came over me. One of Richie's students from last year came over to get some help with English class. This is always an interesting event. Depending on the student, it could be really quick and helpful or really painful for just about everyone. And this was going to be painful. It was just a matter of how painful it would be.

This particular student is not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed and he came with the task of writing a composition. Sentences are difficult enough, even for my students. A full composition -- a near impossible mission. But this was bad. He had to write a composition about two Mozambican he admires, which required the verb "to be". So we said, "Okay, let's conjugate the verb 'to be'". And I couldn't not make this up if I wanted to. Richie and I started him off. "I am. You..." and he believed that the second conjugation was "eat". I am. You eat. Of course.

This was a whole new type of pain. It was the kind of event that every Mozambican English teacher should see. This student was in 10th grade, which means that he had English for 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th and part of 10th grade. That's four full years of English. We then said that the verb "to be" was from Day 1 of English. We meant it figuratively. He thought we meant it literally. So he turned to page one of his notebook and there it was: the conjugation of the verb "to be". We couldn't help but laugh. And cry.

We really couldn't deal with this. We had to get out of there, so Richie claimed that he needed to "go somewhere" and I eagerly followed along...for about 30 feet, until the student left our house. And then I returned right back into the peace and quiet of death at the hands of Dexter.

I have come to realize that the real source of my headaches was probably not dehydration or an inability to conjugate the most basic verb in the English language. It is probably just your run-of-the-mill malnutrition. It's become evident that we are not eating nearly as well we were last year. We haven't seen packages since December, which means we haven't had chicken or turkey in a long time. The only real protein we get is from our daily three eggs split between the two of us and the occasional bean night. And there's not a whole lot of fruit here and almost no vegetables. It's not healthy.

Thankfully for us, tonight was a night for beans, and if it was possible to top the beans that I cooked a couple nights ago, I did so tonight. They were even more Mozambican than the last ones. Topped off with some "How I Met Your Mother", we turned a painful afternoon into an okay night.

If there is any upside to not getting a lot of calories, it's that I've been sleeping extraordinarily well. I've been so exhausted on the whole that I've been sleeping until almost 8 every morning.

Richie had class Monday morning and we had almost food in the house, which meant that I had to go to the market. This was bad news for two reasons: one, I had almost no money so I had to spend conservatively; and two, it was fuckin hot outside. There was not a cloud in the sky and I was going to be hot and dehydrated very quickly.

I was very happy to have no obligations on Monday afternoon. Tragically, walking the two miles to and from the market pretty much did me in. I spent almost the entire afternoon laid out on the floor -- on a mat, of course. There is no exaggeration when I say that. The only times I got up were to get my "Dexter" book (which turned out okay, at best), to get a newspaper, and to get my kakuro book when I was done reading.

Just as I was getting comfortable -- which takes a while on a concrete floor -- two students came up looking for English help. As usual, I obliged, and thank goodness this kid at least knew how to conjugate the verb "to be", in both present tense and past tense. This kid had clearly paid attention at some point in the first ten years of his education. He seems to actually want to learn. So often, kids come over here once and say they want to learn English, but the entire time they are here, they speak Portuguese (and occasionally Ndau). This kid actually tries to speak English with us, so I consider him a winner.

There were no beans tonight, so it was another night of lovely carbohydrates for me. I never really thought I'd get sick of spaghetti, but I'm getting ever closer to that point. I ate my spaghetti, Richie ate tuna, and we finished season three of "How I Met Your Mother". We are moving through these DVDs way too quickly.

I was asked once again to type up a couple of exams by my mathematics counterpart. He came over with a couple of problems, one of which I just could not solve. It was some third degree polynomial equation. The only way I ever learned to do these was by grouping common terms, if it's possible. But then, my colleague blew my mind with some knowledge and I went about solving the problem. He later came over with another that he couldn't solve but I could. When he realized is misstep, he just laughed at himself. I'm always happy to help, regardless of the discipline

I felt miserable for the better part of the day. It wasn't just the headaches. In fact, for the most part, the headaches were gone and I was off Advil. My stomach was not feeling pleasant. Along with realizing that my headaches were probably from not eating, I have recognized that I am struggling to eat potatoes and eggs. I just really can't do it anymore. Maybe it is all the oil. Maybe it's the fact that we have eaten potatoes and eggs for no fewer than 300 days out of the last year. But I just can't do it.

The class I had to teach today was incredibly simple. It should have required about four seconds of explanation and then I should have received glowing examples. I taught past continuous today, as in "I was playing football". This should be simple because they already know how to do present continuous. All it requires to change present tense to past tense is changing the verb "to be" from present tense to past tense. We know this could be problematic, so I went over it with them, for the thousandth time, before getting into the actual grammar.

My hopes for dietary bliss were exponentially elevated when a truck from Beira arrived. We had heard that a car would be coming this week, and while in Beira, Richie had insisted that they go to the post office to get my packages. Putting all the math together, this would mean that I have packages. But apparently, the rules of mathematics don't apply in Mozambique. There were packages in Mozambique, but the morons in the office failed to go to the post office to pick them up. I ask so little of those people in Beira. We just want them to pick up and bring us our packages, and every now and then, we ask to stay in the guest house. How they manage to epically fail at such a simple task is shocking.

We were really banking on packages to arrive because those packages usually contain canned chicken and turkey. For a while, we were feeling cocky and thought that we could probably do without these provisions. We were wrong. We are dying without them. Aside from the variety, we need the protein. It goes without say that while we are in Vilanculos this weekend, I will be gorging myself on at least a half chicken, possibly an entire chicken. I am just hoping that I can make like a brown bear and store this food over the winter. So it was another carbalicious night of spaghetti and "How I Met Your Mother" for me.

Wednesday, as has become normal was slow. I didn't have classes until the insane hour of 4 in the afternoon. What am supposed to do until 4 o'clock" Well, I had to actually figure out what I'd be teaching. There was one more piece of past tense that I had to cover: the perfect tenses. These are tenses that are used regularly in English but are not so common in spoken Portuguese. These are compound tenses that require the verb "have" along with a participle, as in "I have learned English since 7th grade" or "He had gone to Vilanculos before going to Beira". In theory, this should be easy to teach because it is structurally the same as Portuguese. But there's always something that gets in the way.

The rules for forming participles are not exactly clean cut. The first is easy: any regular verb in past tense uses the same word for its participle. For example, the verb "cook" in past tense is "cooked" and its participle would be I have "cooked". But things get messy with irregular verbs. For example, the participle for "teach" is "taught" and the participle is also "taught". But another irregular verb like "fly" has the participle "flown". If you are confused, you can imagine how my students feel. I tried to simplify things by just giving them a list of different participles that they need to know for my class.

Along with this glorious lesson on two forms of past tense, I squeezed in a lesson on passive voice. With limited time remaining in this trimester, I'm trying to squeeze in as much as possible. I found out that my remaining week would be severely shortened by two holidays -- Good Friday and Woman's Day. That's fine. Things are just going to have to move a little faster than I would have liked. I wanted to do the lesson on passive voice because it uses the same list of participles, like "The class is taught by Mr. Lee". They seemed to understand this more than the first part of the lesson.

We were told that there would be beef in the market by late afternoon, so we sent Sozinho with a mission: find the meat or bring back something with protein. The meat was sold out, but Sozinho had the good sense to bring back some fish for Richie and a can of cooked beans for me. I can't actually say he had the good sense. I told him to do exactly that. At least he carried out this simple task well. I ate my rice and beans, Richie ate his fish, and we closed the night with more "How I Met Your Mother".

I slept until the insane hour of 8:45. I don't know how I managed to do such a thing. I think it may have to do with the fact that I had about six calories yesterday. At least it served its purpose of getting through the better part of the morning.

There wasn't much lesson planning to do today because my lesson was already planned. I went into class and banged out my lesson. Strangely, this group understood the perfect tenses but did not at all get the passive voice stuff.

After class, I got roped into helping out with some math class for my colleague. He was teaching a class on probability and wanted to demonstrate using cards. And he wanted to use me, which was fine. He wanted me to do some magic tricks and I obliged. I'm sure the kids thought that what I was doing was some April Fools Day prank, pulling up their card every single time. The cards were actually a pretty good tool. I think it's the first time I've seen a teacher here use a resource that goes beyond teaching material, so credit to him.

Oh yes, this April Fools Day thing. I was not going to let this opportunity go by unused. Before the math class began, I told the students that when he walked in that they should all stand up and turn away from him. In a country where the teacher is greeted with "Good Afternoon, teacher. How are you", this would be a big deal. My students acted excellently. We walked into the classroom, and a huge group of them stood up, turned around, and faced the other wall. The reaction I got was one of anger: "I think that I am already here. This is a lack of respect". Yes, and it's hilarious.

I wasn't able to eat until after all these classes, around 3:00. And to be honest, I wasn't even that hungry. I tried to eat, got four bites into my potatoes and eggs, and gave up. I just couldn't do it anymore. I thought eating was one of the things I did best, but now I'm second-guessing myself. Instead I went to something that I know I'm good at: lying down. And that's how I spent the better part of my late afternoon.

For a good portion of last year and even into this year, Richie went into this phase where he couldn't eat dinner. He'd get through lunch no problem, but I'd end up eating at least 60% of his dinner. I think the same is starting to happen to me, but with the opposite meals. I can't eat lunch anymore, but dinner was no problem. I ate way more than my fair share of rice and beans, to the point where I almost felt sick - the good kind of sick. We decided that watching people die would be nice, so we watched "Smokin' Aces 2". It's the kind of movie that you don't really have to pay attention because everyone is going to die in the end.

Richie and I were on the move early Friday morning with one thought on our minds: pizza. We knew that a mere five and a half hours from the time we set foot out the door, we would be enjoying delicious New York Pizza. Getting to Mambone was no problem, but then the travel gods decided to fuck with us. We sat in Mambone for nearly an hour before the car left. I don't think that it's the waiting that makes us angry. I think it's the fact that we have absolutely no control of our travel fate.

After finally leaving Mambone, we got to the EN1. Richie and I both really needed to go to the bathroom, but a car was barreling down, and I figured I should at least see where it's going. Maputo, you say? Let's go, Richie, we can hold it. This guy bombed it down the EN1 and we didn't have to pay for the ride, which made it even better.

We made it to Vil in about five hours -- not record time, but faster than usual. We actually arrived just before things shut down for lunch break, so we tried to squeeze in some shopping before eating, but the cheaper supermarket was closed. Frustrating, a little, but nothing could ruin this day. There was pizza, just right there. There was no question about what happened to be done: a large for me and a large for Richie. I'm pretty sure that this meal will be more calories than we'd had during the rest of the week. I powered through my piri-piri chicken pizza with ease and watched Richie struggle toward the end. He fell a little short and I got his last piece. I then proceeded to make fun of him about it for the rest of the day.

We checked into our regular backpackers place and found our way to the hammocks. This is exactly what I needed -- a full belly, sunshine, ocean, and a hammock. I sat in the hammock for a good couple of hours, trying to figure out why I had to torture myself with that last slice of pizza. We swam off some of the calories in a rapidly cooling ocean. For most of the year, the ocean has been a bathtub, but this was beautiful today. And because we didn't have enough to eat for lunch, we each had a chicken sandwich for dinner. We clearly got in touch with the fat kids within each of us.

Richie wanted to headed out Saturday morning, but I wasn't quite ready to go back. I was in no rush to go home. I didn't have work until Tuesday, but Richie wanted me to help him proctor and exam on Monday, so I figured Sunday would be a good day to go back. Plus, staying in Vil for another day would allow me to get a little fatter before going home. Before he headed to the chapa, we knocked out some shopping and I got my final exam photocopied. The lady initially told me that there were not photocopies today, but when I told here that I had 200 copies to make, she changed her tune. Apparently, 200 was the magic number. The funny part is some kid walked in wanting to make one copy, and she said the machine wasn't working. She managed to do this with a straight face, even though my copies were being made right then and there.

With my copies made and my shopping done, I headed over to the Vil girls' house. They graciously opened there house to me despite their absence. When I walked into the compound, I noticed a familiar white face. One of the Volunteers from close by was in town, just to unwind. Sweet. Company. I had bought a kilo of chicken breasts from one of the stores. I had planned on decimating said chicken over the course of the day, but now I had a partner in crime. And another Volunteer would be coming in a bit later, so we decided to put of lunch for a while.

Lunch was fried chicken and pasta. One of the Volunteers in town was a southerner, so I pretty much knew I couldn't compete. This wasn't going to be home-style country-fried chicken, but he was satisfied with the end result and that was good enough for me. We were all quite satisfied actually.

We mostly hung around for the day, talking about the pleasures of teaching in Mozambique. We also talked about "community integration", two of Peace Corps' favorite words. By coincidence, the three of us all had something in common: all of us work at mission schools, not standard state schools. I think there may be something about this that gets in the way of full-blown community integration. The mission, more than anything, is our community. Most people on the campus know who we are, and there are fair amount of people outside who know us also, but for the most part, our school is our community.

At some point in the afternoon, I got a call from my parents. I don't know, but it felt like it had been a while since I talked to them. It was nice to hear from them, even though there wasn't a whole lot of news to share. It's a little strange how our conversations have changed over the course of the 18 months. At first, there was so much to talk about because everything was so new. Then, most of our conversation geared toward their upcoming trip. And now, a mere seven months from going home, there has been increasing discussion about me coming home. It's kind of amazing.

Despite the big lunch, that didn't deter us from wanting to eat a huge dinner. We headed down to the market to buy some goods: grouper, which would be beer-battered and fried, some vegetables, and most importantly avocado. Oh yes, it's avocado season again, which means it's time to go crazy with guacamole. I think this is one of those things that we really don't appreciate in America. Due to the glorious weather in California and other parts of the country, we can get just about any fruit or vegetable whenever we want. That is not true here. Things have a season, and 'tis the season for avocado. It should be a beautiful couple weeks.

Dinner was delicious and the rest of the evening looked a lot like the afternoon: just catching up. By the time we looked at a clock, it was already two in the morning. Wow. Where did the time go?

I'm happy report that the headaches I'd been having are gone, for now. I still can't say if it was from a lack of ability to conjugate or a lack of food. Either way, I'm glad they're gone.

I think that one of the most amazing things about Machanga is that you could travel for fourteen hours and still have another five to six hour day ahead of you, just to get here. Just looking at the geography of Mozambique, if you look for the biggest cities around Machanga, they are Chimoio (eight hours away), Beira (nine to thirteen hours away, depending on how many flats the chapa gets) and Maputo (two days travel). Vilanculos, which is far from a city is only five and a half hours out and that's all I had to cover today. Compared to yesterday's fourteen hours, this would be a piece of cake.

Even though I went to bed at an absurdly early hour last night, I still managed to sleep until 7:30. I felt refreshed, alive, ready for another day travel. I packed up the few things I had taken out last night and headed toward the chapa stop. The lack of a Mambone chapa was disconcerting, but I was quickly reassured by someone that the chapa was in Vilanculos and it would be returning soon. Sure enough, thirty minutes later, the car arrived. This was a different car than the ones we usually take, but it seemed okay.

I kept myself entertained with a local newspaper which, to my surprise, had a brief interview with Bono. Apparently, he was in Maputo for some ONE Campaign event. Dude, you come all the way to Mozambique and you don't tell me?! Come on, Bono!

Aside from the regular annoying stops along the EN1, the ride was pretty smooth. For a change, we barely made any stops over the last 45 kilometers, which probably shaved an hour off our time. My good fortune continued when I got to the river. Somebody was already there waiting to cross and the boatman was ready to cross with only two people -- nice!

The rest of my afternoon in Machanga was relaxing. I did all the terribly boring things that have to be done after traveling -- unpacking, sorting laundry, blah blah. I also managed to catch up on my writing. Being away for five or six days makes this journal tough to keep.

The evening was equally relaxing. I didn't want to work too hard at dinner, so I made myself some spaghetti and used one of the sauce packets we have. You can go ahead and call me lazy.

As usual, I had no classes on Monday, which gave me the opportunity to take care of stuff concerning the rest of this trimester. We only have three weeks left in this trimester and there's still I lot that I want to cover. Thus far, I have covered present tense and future tense, which are each easier that past tense. It will take me the entire three weeks just to review the grammar of past tense. I also figured out what was going to be on my final exam. These students are going to kill me. Every single question on this exam is taken from National Exams from past years. They are all loosely related to what they have learned this trimester but not as clearly as I have presented it. It should be interesting to see how they do. Just from this exam, I will have a good idea of who will pass the National Exam come November.

My afternoon was committed to numbers, both for entertainment and for work. After lunch, I did some Sudoku and kakuro to keep my mind occupied. Later, one of the math teachers doing university work came over for some help with complex numbers. I came so close to figuring out this one problem, but screwed up somewhere along the line. I must have done it four or five times, but every time, I had a plus sign where I should have had a minus sign. Aggravating , to say the least.

With Richie still gone, I was on my own again for entertainment. His computer tends to work much better when it comes to watching DVDs but I was not going to let that deter me. Following dinner, I watched a couple episodes of "Seinfeld".

Monday was the last day, at least for a little while, that I'd be alone here. Richie was on the road on Tuesday heading for Machanga. I was happy to finally have some company not named Sozinho. That kid is going to drive us to insanity. Eight more months. I was happy to not have anything to do on Tuesday morning because Monday night was probably the worst night of sleep I've had all year. I didn't fall asleep until after midnight, and after that I was up almost hourly. Frustrating would be putting it lightly.

Just before lunch, I took a look at what I was teaching in the afternoon: a quick lesson on possessive adjectives -- my, your, his, etc. I kind of knew that this was going to be a tough lesson for these kids to get because while the Portuguese has just one word for possessives, we use two in English. For example, "minha" can be "my" or "mine" depending on when it is used in the sentence. I'm sure it will cause fits on the exam.

Richie returned within an hour of my classes being done. There wasn't much to do for the afternoon. I think he was pretty tired and I didn't have to worry about work until late tomorrow afternoon. With the exception of a haircut for me, we pretty much did nothing until the energy was on. After a long travel day, Richie wanted to watch something funny, so we jumped back into "How I Met Your Mother" for a little while until the energy was shut down.

I slept in late on Wednesday. For some reason, I had a headache as I went to bed and I woke up with the same headache in the same place. That can't be good. I was prepared to drug myself up, but decided to go the natural route first and pound a bunch of water. By mid-morning, the headache had subsided. I was on my own for a lot of the morning as Richie had classes for the better part of the morning, so I buried myself in kakuro.

There was a ton of shrimp going around Machanga and we decided to get in on the buying spree. We gave all the shrimp to Sozinho to deshell and cook, but the asshole decided that he was only going to deshell enough for him to eat. I really don't mind eating shrimp, but peeling it is a huge pain in the ass. It used to be that I didn't like seafood because it smells horrible. Now, I don't mind the taste and even the smell is okay, but if there's one thing about my food, it is this: I don't want to have to fight with my food to be able to eat it. And eating shelled shrimp is exactly that It's a fight. I swear, if Sozinho manages to survive this year alive, it's because whatever god he believes in decided to restrain Richie and me from killing him.

After my non-shrimp lunch,.I got to work on my lesson for the day. I was meeting with only one of my classes today and today was our first of many discussions on past tense. Past tense in English is easier than Portuguese in some ways and harder in some ways. With the exception of the verb "to be" there is only one conjugation in English, clearly easier than the six that Portuguese offers. The downside is that English has far more irregular verbs than Portuguese. After a year and a half of being here, I still can't conjugate some Portuguese irregular verbs in past tense, so I'm going to say the English is easier.

What I didn't count on was the fact that some of the vocabulary associated with past tense would be so difficult for these kids to comprehend. For the life of them, they could not understand when we use "last" -- when there is only one unit of time, like last year (one year in the past) or last month (one month in the past) and when we use "ago" -- when it is more than one unit, like "three weeks ago". I needed to explain it three times before kids understood what was happening. And even then, I'm pretty sure some didn't understand. These are the ones that might fall under the category of "lost cause".

Richie and I made a late afternoon run to the market. We decided that we were sick of buying rice one kilo at a time, so we stocked up for the year and bought a 25-kilo bag of rice. It will require us to eat a little less than a kilo of rice a week, and considering Sozinho eats more than the both of us combined, this should not be a problem. He has his doubts, but I'm pretty sure that Richie and I could get through the 25 kilos, even without that garbage disposal of an empregado.

There was a party on Wednesday night for one of our colleagues. She has been trying to transfer out of Machanga for at least a year -- can you blame her? -- and she finally got her wish. This lucky soul is out of her on Saturday and I can't see why she would return here. Instead, she will probably be living a life in Beira, a real city with an actual infra-structure. A couple of people spent all day cooking and we were banking on some of this food. But 7:00, then 8:00 then 9:00 rolled around and the food still wasn't ready. I gave up, made some spaghetti, and ate it just before the energy went out.

Sometime around 10:00, two colleagues came over and pounded on our door. Apparently, food was ready. I was horizontal and my head was hurting anyways. The last thing I needed was booze and loud music. I chose sleep over free food and beer, but even in America, I think I would make that choice.

The headache I had last night survived all the way until the morning. This was slightly disconcerting because I usually don't get headaches and to have one last twelve hours is highly irregular. I figured it would go away on its own, like most headaches do.

Even though we missed the party, there were leftovers of everything, and I was hungry. I wandered over to our colleague's house and feasted on rice and beans. Success! Then the beers came. At 8:00 in the morning. Many a Mozambican would consider 8:00 a late start. I can't tell you how many times I've been on a chapa and seen someone drinking at 6:00 or 6:30. I was going to have just my one breakfast beer, and then escape. But one became two and two became five and I had to teach at 12:30. I'm in for a lovely afternoon.

I only had a pair of classes and they had plenty of stuff to copy for this class. If there were ever a good time to not have it all together for a class, this was the one. Considering my condition, the class went pretty well. I also had the benefit of having taught the same class yesterday to a different group, so I knew where the difficulties would be. Richie, who was done with classes by mid-morning, took care of making lunch and I ate a late lunch after my classes.

I had the rest of the afternoon to relax. My head was still hurting, but I don't know if it was from the beer or the headache. I'm blaming the beer. I didn't do much of anything all afternoon. Having sobered up, and with my head still hurting (guess i wasn't the beer), I took the focus away from my head and put it into doing some kakuro.

As Richie took care of lunch, it was only fair that I cooked dinner. The last couple times that I have cooked beans, they have been disastrous. With some failures, like gnocchi, I'm reluctant to try again for a long time, but I know how to cook beans. I just need to put some energy into it. Since beans take forever to cook, we decided to entertain ourselves with "Public Enemies", the Johnny Depp film about the bank heists during the Depression. Between the bumping music outside and Richie's poor speakers on his computers, we barely heard anything, but seeing everyone die was pretty cool. The beans, by the way, were phenomenal, probably the best beans I've cooked. The flavor was right on and the texture was the Mozambican, slightly liquidy texture that has eluded us to this point.

Just as I stepped up my game with beans tonight, the headaches stepped up their game in making my head feel like the inside of a volcano. I don't know why I can't just be healthy. I had absolutely no problems last year, and this year has been nothing but. I get rid of one problem and the next one comes on. Well, two can play this game. I popped an ibuprofen and slept for at least a couple hours.

I woke up around midnight and it felt like a pick ax had been driven into my skull above my right eyebrow. I'm starting to think that this could be a little more serious than just a little headache. I asked someone at home to do some research as to what this could be. The result: a cluster headache. Just sounds painful. There's much that I can do about it. Rest, water, and aspirin. Oh yea, I can also inhale pure oxygen for 20 minutes, which may help, or I can pop some caffeine. I really don't want caffeine. And more than that, I really don't want to go all the way to Maputo to see a doctor about this. I'm fighting this one, and if it becomes truly unbearable, I'll deal with it then.

I started to think about what I could be doing or not be doing that could be giving me this headache. I thought that maybe it was from dehydration, but that's ridiculous since I'm drinking an insane amount of water. I thought it could be hunger. We definitely don't get as many calories as we should be getting. I thought it could be some form of malnutrition. Ditto on the not getting enough vitamins and minerals. So I decided to attack on all fronts. I ate breakfast for the first time in months, I took a multi-vitamin and I drank even more water than I've been drinking.

But this headache is holding on, no matter what I do, and it seems to be holding to a pattern. Not terrible in the morning, almost gone in the afternoon, medication-worthy at night. At least I know when the pain is coming on.

Richie went to Mambone late in the morning to pick up some things and see our colleague over there. While he was gone, I had some time to think about the rules of adding "ed" to form regular past tense verbs, and I came to the following conclusion: there is very little rhyme or reason to how and why we conjugate regular verbs in past tense. Some rules are very sturdy. With verbs that end in "e", all we need is to add a "d" -- "like" becomes "liked". With verbs that end in a consonant and a "y", we use "ied" -- "hurry" becomes "hurried". But aside from that, it's pretty random. Sometimes we repeat the last letter, sometimes we don't and every time I tried to think of a sturdy rule for these verbs, I just found more exceptions.

I had a couple hours to relax after classes before heading to this new English practice group. I had no expectations for what this group was going to be. The new English teacher decided that he wanted to do some extra work with the students, and I told him that I'd help him where I could. I told my students about the group and hoped that some would turn up; lord knows that some of them could use the help.

What I witnessed was shocking on a lot of levels. First of all, the room was packed with students of all ages. My first thought was, "Wow, some people really want to learn English". My second thought was more sobering -- there were going to be so many levels here that this group would need to be broken into at least three. I knew it was going to be problematic when they started with ABC's. Just to illustrate the difference in the levels of students , there were some students who it seemed like they were learning this for the first time and there were some who could probably do it backwards.

I mostly played the role of observer during this event. The shocks continued as the night moved on. At one point, one of the teachers asked a student to come write a word on the board. The teacher spelled out the word letter by letter "T-E-A-C-H-E-R". What came on the board wasn't quite "teacher": "T-I-A-S-I-A". Oh, this is not going to help my headache.

I won't lie. I was really hoping that this would be a more advanced group. I was hoping that this would be for students who had a good base of English and needed the opportunity to practice more, to refine their speaking. I was wrong. This is going to be madness, and until they can figure out how to divide this group into reasonable levels, it's going to be difficult.

Following that hour, I needed a laugh or two. We ate dinner and watched "How I Met Your Mother". I threw down a couple advil and a bottle of water and went to bed in not too much pain.

The English group was scheduled to meet again at 10:00 on Saturday and the other teachers wanted to meet at 8:00 to figure out what to do. I dutifully woke up at 7:50, put on some clothing, and sat outside, waiting for the other teachers to say they were ready to meet. But no one ever came over. With reason -- today was some sort of culture day, which meant that there would be dancing and singing and stuff at the second school. I did my regular thing and didn't go. Richie decided to endure. I was happy when I received the text message "all of these dances are the same". And it was hot. I was happy to sit on my porch doing kakuro.

My morning was marked by one event. My GRE scores were posted online, and I was only slightly scared to see what they were. I remembered the feeling of being completely defeated seven weeks ago, and now my fate would be written in a couple numbers. What turned up wasn't so horrifying. 630 on the verbal, 710 on the math, 4.5 out of 6 on the writing. I hoped for better, expected worse, and pretty much did exactly how I should have. One every aptitude test of this sort -- SAT 2's, SAT's, and now GRE's -- I have never had higher than 660 on verbal or a 720 on math. So there's room for improvement, sure, but the difference is so thin that it won't be worth taking it again.

The afternoon was far more eventful. There was a soccer game between two groups of teachers and we thought it would be good to watch. After all, we had been invited to the post game beerfest which would have no less than four cases of beer. We owed it to the teacher who invited us to watch the game. Our group of teachers ended up winning. We stayed for most of the game, but left with 15 minutes to go. It's soccer. It's boring.

The drinking commenced shortly after. It's been a good while since I've drank with other teachers and it ended up being a good time. We managed to get through almost six cases instead of the anticipated four. And I was happily interrupted by a phone call from my brother. It's been a while since I've caught up with him, so it was nice to talk to him. Certainly a nice way to end a week filled with headaches.

The party lasted well into the morning. The discotheque doesn't really get going until 1 in the morning. We ended up staying out until around 3 o'clock. Under normal partying circumstances, this would be okay, because normally I have absolutely nothing to do or nowhere to go the day after.

Today, however, was different. The truth is, I could have stayed in Chimoio on Sunday and gone back on Monday. But I had 100 papers to grade, and doing that after a long travel day would not be pleasant. So instead of sleeping all day, I lay on the hardwood floors for 90 minutes -- until 4:30 -- and then made my way out. This should be lovely.

The day did not start out promising. When I got to the chapa stand, everything heading south to Maxixe, Vilanculos, or Maputo was gone. This day was going to require some luck. Then, while at the chapa stop, I got stopped by two police officers who asked for my passport. I busted out the Peace Corps ID as well and explained what I was doing here. They then asked me for some money so they can have some beers (really, at 5 in the morning?). I then straight lied to them. I told them that I made as much as a first year Mozambican teacher, which is almost true. We make about fifty percent more, but fifty percent of a small amount is still a small amount. They understood, and I walked away paying nothing. The most shocking part of this scene for me though was that even though it was 5:00 in the morning, and I had been up for 24 consecutive hours, my Portuguese was still on point.

This was only the beginning of a long week of travel for me. With a trip to Maputo coming up on Wednesday, this would be week-long contest between me and Mozambique's transportation "system".

Just as I finished talking to the officers, a chapa pulled up heading for the EN1. Perfect. I got in, and for most of the rides, looked at the backs of my eyelids. I was never really asleep, but I might as well have been. As we got to the crossroads, the sun was just making its way up. I figured it was better to get there early and wait then get there late and miss something good.

My planning paid off. After thirty minutes of waiting, a sweet truck pulled up. I thought he was going to blow by me, but he stopped just ahead. He was going way south -- beyond the crossroads for Machanga, and even beyond the crossroads for Mambone. It was in that moment that I made a major decision: fuck Machanga, I'm going via Mambone.

The car didn't go as fast as I hoped, but it was steady, and it was a whole hell of a lot faster and more comfortable than a chapa. And even though the man had music pumping at an absurd level for the ride, I still slept the entire way. This day was actually shaping up. Muzungu: 1 - Mozambique: 0

I arrived at Maluvane in good time and only had to wait about fifteen minutes for a truck to head into town. This ride was slow, and we had to make a small detour off the main road, but I was still at the river by 11:30.

And then the wait began. Sundays are always a slow day at the river, and midday is a never a good day. There were three of us waiting at the river, and the boatman needed five people to cross. We sat for a while, waiting for two more people to show up. We asked if we could just go, but he insisted on getting his fifty Meticais for his work. Fifteen minutes later, I made another decision: I offered to cover the additional twenty Mets. I stayed patient long enough, and if a measly twenty Mets is all I need to pay to get us going, this is money well spent. Once across, I walked back to Machanga. I was home by 1:30. Not bad, seeing as the chapa from Beira won't get in until at least 4:15.

Being home early afforded me the luxury of eating a quick lunch and then passing out for most of the day. This was a good sleep, and I knew that even after the nap, I would still sleep well during the night.

Without Richie here, things are uneventful at night. I made a quick dinner, checked some email, and then crawled into bed early with a book.

Sunday was literally the first night this year that I slept through the entire night. It didn't matter that my fan went off sometime in the middle of the night. There was a slight breeze as it was, and I was gone.

Hour for hour, Monday was probably the most I've worked this school year. I was grading papers by 8:30. I committed myself to finishing one of my classes before lunchtime. It was painful, especially since this was the, uh, slower of my two classes. Even so, they still did well. Most of them did well, although there were some epic failures.

I made myself a quick lunch, and right after eating, I was back to work with my better class. As I expected, this class did much better. 95% of this class passed -- as opposed to 76% in the other class. Despite the actual grading being easier, it still took my three hours to get through the exams.

I had a couple hours to relax before the energy came on, but once the energy was turned on, I was back to work. The math teacher here came over with a request for me to type up some exams. Seeing as there was nothing else to entertain me tonight, I used this to fill my night. I got done all of one exam and half of another before the lights went out. All in all, an extraordinarily productive day.

There was more work to be done Tuesday morning and fortune was on my side. When I woke up, there was something very different going on. The energy was on. And it stayed on. This is awesome. So this is what civilization is like. I spent the entire morning banging out the second exam from last night, and then another two exams. In between exams, I also made myself a delicious stir fry brunch. A day without using charcoal: what a beautiful thing.

I didn't have much of a class to give today. I saw both of my classes today and all I had to do was return and go over exams. But that didn't mean my work was done. The math teacher caught me peeking in his class, and he asked me to come in. I was happy to do so.

This day got interesting though. They were doing work on permutations on combinations, which I haven't done since, oh, high school. So I learned the stuff with these kids. But then, the teacher put up a problem that just didn't seem right to me. We ended up getting into a rather humorous argument about the whole thing. He was convinced he was right, and I wasn't sure. This was years behind me, after all. I still stuck by my guns.

Once I was out of the class, I went online in search of some information about this particular problem. And what did I find: nothing! Absolutely fuckin nothing. I was riding high, but then, another math teacher burst my bubble and said he was right. I asked for the proof in the book, but neither of them could find it. I'm inclined to believe them, but I'd be more convinced if I saw the actual rule in a book.

On this third night without entertainment, I was feeling it a little bit. This place does get lonely when it's only one of us here. I managed to keep myself busy with cooking and cleaning. And before I knew it, it was time to go to sleep.

Day two of the game between Mozambique and me began early. I was on the move for Maputo at 6:30. I knew this was going to be a long day. It was just a matter of how long it would be. Right off the bat, I had luck on my side. Three people were waiting at the river and I was the fourth to fill out their boat. I didn't have to wait long for a truck to head to the EN1. Then things got good.

I got a ride in a Land Cruiser down to Inhassoro. The guy did 120 kilometers per hour the entire way, and I didn't have to pay for the ride. It was by far the fastest I have ever arrived in Inhassoro. After a quick chapa ride to Vilanculos, something truly amazing happened: I got a ride from a guy in a Mitsubishi Pajero heading all the way down to Maputo. 2-0 Muzungu. And I only had to pay half price. 3-0 Muzungu.

My original plan was to take my time on this trip, stopping in Maxixe on Wednesday, Xai Xai on Thursday and arriving in Maputo on Friday around noon. But we were in Maxixe so early that I might be able to arrive in Xai Xai. It was a gamble, and well, I like to gamble. "March on" I said, and so we went.

This is where things got interesting. As the sun started to set, we started to slow down. Significantly. I was not happy about this. Even on the shitty road north of Xai Xai, he should have moving at a decent clip. And then I realized why we were going 40 kilometers per hour: the car's headlights were barely on. Great. After not being passed by a single car on the first half of a trip, we got passed by every car possible after 4:30. It was like the Eleventh Commandment: "Thou shall pass Lee's formerly awesome boleia". Point for Mozambique. 3-1.

And then the rains came. This was an incredibly angry, one of the storms that you could hear before you could see. The sky rumbled like there was an earthquake in the clouds, and lightning provided far more illumination than the car's shitty headlights could provide. Finally, just as we arrived into Xai Xai, the rains came and they did not stop, like the Cahora Bassa dam was just emptied. My ride told me that he could not take me where I needed to go in Xai Xai because it required passing a police check point and they would have dinged him hard for his headlights. He was also going to stay in Xai Xai for the night and would pick me up tomorrow morning to Maputo.

So he leaves me in an absolute torrential down pour. Thanks. A lot. By good luck, a taxi pulled up behind me and I was able to get a ride to where I needed to go. 450 Meticais later, I was nearly broke. Just to put that in perspective. I spent a total of 355 Mets to cover the hundreds of kilometers from my house to Xai Xai, and then paid 450 more to cover the last 15 kilometers. Add another point for Mozambique, 3-2 Muzungu.

My night in Xai Xai was brief and uneventful. I ate dinner with my Volunteer host and we discussed the March Madness bracket. I have seen exactly zero minutes of college basketball this year so I had no idea what was happening. I was in bed by 10:00, knowing that I had to be up at 4:30 to get my ride to Maputo.

One of the things about traveling here is that you as the traveler have absolutely no control. You don't control when your car arrives. You don't control how fast it goes. The only semblance of control the traveler has is how much you pay. On chapas, the price is fixed and generally known and consistent. Boleias tend to run equally as pricy or cheaper. With such little control, you really have to put a lot of trust in other people. And I, even after the ride last night, put a lot of trust in this guy.

Ilidio told me to be on the main road at 5:00 on Thursday morning. Of course, 5:00 came and went without seeing him pass. But then, at 5:15, here it came: a Mitsubishi Pajero. And then it just kept going, right on by me. You asshole. This was bad news. I hoped for the best. There has to be more than one Mitsubishi Pajero in this country. I called Ilidio and asked where he was. He said he as ten minutes away. Phew, okay. Ten minutes later, the correct Pajero rolled in and it stopped for me. We were on the road to Maputo, cruising. 4-2 Muzungu.

I was in Maputo by 11 in the morning, a whole day ahead of when I was expecting to arrive. With all this extra time, and my doctors appointment a whole day away, I decided to go to the Peace Corps office to hang out. I didn't do anything for much of the day. The Peace Corps office has internet so I spent a fair amount of the day doing absolutely nothing productive.

Before heading out to dinner, I went to drop off my stuff at my hotel. The hotel where Peace Corps usually puts us was being renovated, so I was staying at some random place not particularly close to anything. But there was hope: the sign at the entry boasted about television, WiFi and a pool. True to their word, there was a pool with a swim-up bar, a router, a television -- and air conditioning and bathroom with a toilet and hot-water shower -- you know, luxury items.

A whole group of us that were in Maputo went out for Indian food. The Indian restaurant in Maputo is pretty good. Every time I've been there, I've ordered something spicier, so I asked what their spiciest item was. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong. I managed to get through all the meet on my plate, but I could not finish the rice. It was just too spicy. There is a fine balance that needs to be hit between spiciness and flavor. As long as a food is flavorful as well as hot, I'm okay with it, but this was hot for the sake of being hot. Still pretty good though.

My optimism about the hotel quickly faded. The router was down and the television only had three working channels. At least there was still a hot shower and air conditioning. I went to sleep clean and cold, just like in America.

The appointment I had with the doctor wasn't scheduled until 5:00, so I made my way back to the office Friday morning to hang out. Besides the benefits of internet and comfortable couches, the Peace Corps office was a particular item of interest to us Volunteers: satellite television. With ESPN. Which was airing a replay of the Kentucky-East Tennessee State opening round game. I was glued. Hell, I was entranced. I could sit here all day and just watch this. But after ten minutes of game time, people wanted to head out. I begrudgingly left, but at least I had some deliciousness in my future.

A group of three of us headed downtown to Maputo Shopping Center, one of the best parts about Maputo (for me, anyways). One of the Volunteers claimed that there was soft-serve ice cream on the top floor. You don't have to tell me twice -- I was there. This vanilla soft serve was delicious, and only ten Mets. It was so good and so cheap that all of us indulged and got a second. I also purchased a new cell phone. The phone that I've had for most of my time here is all but destroyed. There is no longer a keyboard -- just a big white pad where keys used to be.

I had a couple hours yet before my appointment, so I headed toward the doctor's office and went on the hunt for an internet cafe. It was just late enough in the morning that people in California might be awake enough to talk. I'm fortunate to have some early-risers amongst family and friends.

This was a truly stupid doctor's appointment. It was just a check-up to make sure I was feeling okay. I didn't really need to doctor to tell me I was feeling okay. I knew I was feeling okay, and the only way he was going to know was by asking "How are you feeling?" But Peace Corps wanted me to have this appointment, so I came down for it. Of course, the appointment lasted all of five minutes. At least I didn't have to wait three hours, like last time. The appointment went as I thought. He asked how I was, I said I was fine, and that was about it. Wonderful -- so glad I drove two days for a five minute appointment.

I went to the Peace Corps office straight from the doctor's office to drop off my results. I could have dropped them off in the morning, but doing so would have meant not being able to return on Saturday, and I really wanted to get out of Maputo. It's funny: Maputo has all of the amenities, but I'm always so anxious to get out. The thing about Maputo is that everything is so damn expensive. We eat in Machanga for less than fifty Meticais a day. A meal in Maputo can easily cost 300 or 400. I like internet and air conditioning, but I also like not being broke. As such, I decided not to go out for dinner, but found some place that delivered and was relatively cheap. I ate quickly, showered slowly, and went to bed early, knowing that another long travel day was ahead tomorrow.

My alarm was set for 5:00. Having packed last night, I was on the move by 5:15. For the first time, I caught a chapa to the bus stop instead of taking an expensive taxi. I know exactly where the buses for Vilanculos are and I was heading in that direction when some guy asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to Vilanculos and he said that's where his chapa was going. I was skeptical, but I decided to take my chances. This chapa looked far more comfortable than a regular bus and I decided it was worth the risk.

I was very much wrong. Even though I got on the chapa at 6:30, we didn't leave until 8:00. People were pissed off. I was pissed off too, but I stayed stoic. Other people were a lot more, um, expressive. Around Xai Xai, the driver decided to put up a sign for Maxixe. I asked the cobrador (money-collector) if this would arrive in Vilanculos and he said no. I thought I was pissed, and then I saw the lady behind me. She was outraged. I would be okay as long as I got some of my money back, which is always a task. Once those guys have their money, they do not like to give any back, but I managed to get my 100 Meticais back.

The woman behind me was not so lucky. She was heading in the right direction but wanted to arrive in different town, which would require a boat or a separate chapa. She, like me, was lied to by the chapa guys. While I took my misfortune in stride, she decided to get angry. When she, along with another lady, got out of the car, she went nuts. I've seen people get angry, and I've seen people get angry on chapas, but this was the first time I've ever seen anyone hit the driver and cobrador. On an otherwise slow travel day, this brought a smile to my face. I'm calling this ride a draw. 5-3 Muzungu.

The truth is, I should have stayed in Maxixe on this night, but the gambler in me wanted to make it to Vilanculos. If I made it to Vilanculos by the night, I could take the chapa to Mambone on Sunday. I headed out to the street and tried to catch a ride. Everything that passed me was staying local. There was one more car heading my way and then I would try to get a chapa. The gods, once again, were on my side. This car was heading all the way to Beira and he wanted to move. 6-3 Muzungu.

While the road was good, he did 160 kilometers per hour, the fastest car I've been in during my time here. But then we hit the infamous Massinga road, where the recommended speed is 60. He took this to mean 100. I would have been okay with this, but then we hit this huge pothole and the car bounced so high that I hit my head on the roof of his car. At this point, I felt that a seat belt would be a wise choice, because if we got into an accident, I would be the only one walking away from it. Once we got through the misery of the Massinga road, he was back to doing 160. I got to Pambarra around 6:30 and after catching a truck to Vil, I was in town by 7:30. Just another ho-hum fourteen-hour travel.

I got to the backpackers where I like to stay and ordered food immediately. This was a fast night. Cheeseburger and french fries -- the only food I had the entire day -- a quick shower, a glass of water, and in bed by 8:30. There was more travel to be done tomorrow, but this would be quick and easy -- one chapa and a boat road.

No matter how badly it goes tomorrow, Mozambique can't overcome my 6-3 lead from this week.

You ever have that feeling when you're lying in bed that there are bugs crawling all over you? It's a terrible feeling, isn't it? Except here's the thing: the bugs that are imaginary for you are real for me. It doesn't really that I have a bug net. Those sneaky bastards always find a way to get in. The proof is all over my ankles. And on my sheets that are speckled in perfectly straight lines of dried blood, crystal clear evidence of bed bugs. I'd like to think that I've adjusted to it, but I still find myself boxing myself when some six-legged freak has found it's way in my ears.

Last night was especially bad. The fan helped, but good god, I think I was up every hour from something buzzing in my ear. Needless to say, I didn't sleep particularly well. Good thing I had absolutely nothing to do on Sunday. I killed some time making a run to the market. Market runs on Sundays are tough because so few of the stores are open. And we were out of beans. It took me three shots, but I finally found beans.

It was an otherwise slow day. I found myself buried in "The Tortilla Curtain", a book my grandmother sent me a couple months ago. It's a pretty good read about two couples in LA -- one Mexican, one American -- and how their lives run together. I'm usually not one for novels, but this one is alright.

Alexis came over in the afternoon. One of her colleagues from Tete (a long ways away) was visiting. I don't know what brought him down here, but this isn't exactly a tourist destination. So while he was here, Alexis dragged him over to our place. He's doing some food security/irrigation project in Tete and Manica, which seems pretty cool. They chilled here for an hour and left before the sun started making its descent.

I was in charge of beans tonight, as this is my job. The beans turned out delicious, as usual. While the beans cooked, we watched a couple episodes of "30 Rock". Then it was back to my bug-filled world.

I got a couple phone calls from family members, first from my parents then from my brother. It's been a good while since I talked to my brother so it was nice to catch up with him.

Normally, my Mondays are slow and uneventful. Today was anything but. Alexis and her colleague, John, went to the market for coffee and they invited me to join them. This was a shockingly good way to kill the morning. I was in the market all the way up until lunch time.

Richie had already started lunch by the time I got home. He had prepped, so it was only fair that I took over the cooking duty. With no classes in the afternoon, I thought I was going to be in for a relaxing afternoon with my book. I was wrong. The physics teacher came over asking me for some help typing an exam. Or I should say, two exams. This wasn't really a problem. If I'm not going to be teaching, I might as well be helpful some other way.

I was able to bang out one and a half exams before my battery gave out. Having nothing else to do, and wanting to get away from words, I folded myself into a Kakuro book. I then spent the remaining part of the afternoon failing miserably at putting numbers into boxes. After a nice run of success, I am back to sucking at it.

When the energy came on, I went right back to work on the exams. I really wanted to get these things knocked out. Usually, typing up physics or chemistry exams sucks because there are so many words with accents, subscripts, and superscripts, but these exams were shockingly devoid of these frustrations. After a pasta dinner (in which I ate my dinner, along with 75% of Richie's -- he just can't eat pasta anymore), we settled in to some "30 Rock".

I committed myself to finishing "The Tortilla Curtain" oon Tuesday. I had no obligations until 12:30 in the afternoon and only 150 pages to knock out. So far, it's been a very fast read. As long as I can avoid distractions, I'll be on easy street. I sat myself on the patio, plugged in my iPod -- making it clear that I didn't want to talk to anyone -- and went to work.

By mid-afternoon, after lunch and following two quick classes on the future tense, I succeeded in my task. What do I do now? I pulled out the kakuro book once again and, with the exception of one puzzle, failed horribly again. It's really frustrating to mess up on these puzzles because it's just basic addition and logic, and yet it has a way of seriously fucking with my head.

Just before the energy came on, the new philosophy teacher came over with a request for a typed test. I was sitting in my house, listen to the angry rhymes of Immortal Technique. When he came to the house, his ears perked up. He said "Is this Immortal Technique?" Yea man, it is. And then he said something I wasn't quite expecting: "Yea, Immortal Technique! I love this motherfucker!" I can't say I'm responsible for teaching him that nice piece of American vocabulary, but man, it was funny.

Having another test to type in front of me, there was no way I could really pay to attention to anything that we were watching. Richie wanted a break from comedy, se he turned to "Blow", the Johnny Depp flick about drug hustling. It's a movie I had seen before a couple times, so I could go in and out of it with little trouble.

With all of the failure I'd had with kakuro in the first part of the week, I didn't have expectations of myself for Wednesday morning. But shockingly, my mind was working decently and I was able to knock out three puzzles in an hour. Great success! As I sat on the patio, one of Richie's students from last year came over for some English help. He needed some help writing a composition. I knew this was going to be trouble. He had already written the passage in Portuguese and just wanted help translating. This is a bit frustrating for me, because I believe that you should at least try to write the thing in English. I passed him a dictionary and told him to look up the words, try to write the paragraph, then we'll mold it into something readable.

The hits kept coming throughout the morning and into the afternoon. One of the English teachers from the secondary school came over for the 12th grade curriculum, a math teacher came over for some help in his university studies -- complex numbers, which I could help with, and some advanced calculus, which I couldn't really help with. It's been too many years since I've studied calc. Then a physics teacher came over requesting help with differential equations. I almost laughed at this request. If I can't do basic calc, I'm fucked on differential equations. And then another student came over for help on writing a composition. Like the other student, this student came without having attempted to write in English. I gave him the dictionary, and told him he could come back when he had at least tried to write something. And on top of that, I had a class to give. Wow.

When the energy came on, I had one important job, and it wasn't cooking (Richie wanted to take a crack at cooking beans tonight). I had a whole line-up of documents to print out: two physics tests, a philosophy test, a letter for science fair, and a letter from our school director to Peace Corps. While I was in the director's office printing these documents, another teacher came in wanting to print his exam. This thing was an absolute formatting disaster spread over two pages. I spent 20 minutes cleaning it up, making it beautiful. He laughed, and told me that what took me 20 minutes would have taken him days to figure out. It's nice to be helpful.

This was by far the busiest, and not coincidentally, the fastest day I've had here in a while. I can't say that I'm mad that I have a light teaching load this year. 25 hours all in the afternoon is not easy. But a busy afternoon makes for a fast afternoon.

Richie's beans were okay, but he wasn't particularly satisfied with how they came out. He told me that the job is officially mine. We turned to one of our old favorites for entertainment: "How I Met Your Mother". We watched three episodes when we realized that we could easily blow through the entire disc in one sitting. Showing remarkable restraint, we transitioned into "30 Rock" before heading to bed.

Thursday was back to the regular slow pace of life in Machanga. Richie had a couple classes in the morning, so I was on duty for the market run. Generously, Richie paid for groceries today. I needed the help. I'm running low cash. We can't get to Chimoio fast enough.

Following a helpful, busy, fast Wednesday, Thursday dragged on and on. Nobody came over for help. Nobody came with a request to have a test typed. The most we had was a request or two for the bike.

Adding to the slowness of the day, I only had one class to give, and I didn't even have to lesson-plan for it. This was the same lesson that I gave to my other students yesterday -- on first conditional. I got through the lesson, and told the students what they needed to know for their exam. After a 20 minute review, they claimed to be ready. We'll see. After the first round of exams, I have my doubts, but I'll be happy if they prove me wrong.

After a boring afternoon of sitting on the patio, failing again at kakuro and starting another book, "Somebody Knows My Name", we ate dinner. Richie and Sozinho ate fish and xima, two foods I choose to avoid on a regular basis, so I made myself some spaghetti. We went away from comedy again and watched "Good Will Hunting". This was another movie that I had seen previously, so I didn't really pay attention. I tried to play catch-up with some people with whom I've fallen out of touch. The movie ended just after the energy went out.

I was back to being busy on Friday. I wanted to give an exam before heading out for the weekend and Friday is the day that I have both classes for two periods. Most of the morning was spent writing the exam. This is a two step process: first I need the questions, then I need to write them on oversize paper so I dont have to write them on the board twice. Usually this is taken care of on the patio, where the morning light is good and the breeze keeps me a little cool. However, as we have Sozinho around the house, I had to write the exam in the dark, sweaty confines of my room. Writing an exam should not qualify as an activity that requires a shower after it.

Alexis swang over just as I was preparing myself for a full cleaning -- head shave plus shower. She got to witness the full transformation. While she was here, we also cooked lunch. We offered her our monotony of potatoes and eggs in place of her monotony of rice and tiny shrimp, but she denied it. Strange, but it just means more food for Richie and me.

We all know how much I love exam days here. In all honesty, though, today's weren't so bad. I had to move a couple people around because of wandering eyes or blabbering mouths, but other than that, there were no "indisciplinados". There was only one student who particular pissed me off today. I know I'm not supposed to hold grudges, but this girl has earned it. Twice I have taken phone credit from her because I've caught her using her phone in class, which drives me up a fucking wall. She has a record of not putting in any effort whatsoever. She has missed multiple exams (she missed the first one from this year, as well as bunch last year) and the ones she has taken, she usually fails.

What she did today, however, topped everything. She walked into the classroom just as I was putting up the big sheets of paper, grabbed her things, and left. If she thought she went unnoticed, she was wrong: the bright yellow shirt she was wearing did not help her cause. And here's where the story gets good. Half way through the exam, she has the audacity to enter my classroom, sit down in the front row, and then...do work for another class. All I could think was "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" I already know what is going to happen. When I see her on Tuesday, she is going to say "Mr Lee, I didn't take the test on Friday". And I'll say "Why not?" but in my head, I'll be thinking, "no shit you didn't take it, and now you'll be getting zeroes for both exams". Then she will give some bullshit excuse, I'll call her out, tell her she's getting zeroes, and she probably won't even fight it. She knows she's screwed.

After that event, I had no motivation to correct exams, but I did find the little energy I needed to put the exams in alphabetical order, making my job of correcting and grade-inputting significantly easier. Aside from that, I relaxed for the rest of the afternoon, recounting the story of the yellow-shirted girl to Richie.

Sozinho and Richie wanted to do fish tonight, so I was on my own for food tonight, which means spaghetti. Richie always gives me shit for not eating fish here. Quite frankly, I'm not interested in starting at an entire fish -- and having the fish stare back on me. Tonight, my pickiness was vindicated. The fish that they bought was terrible. Richie got two bites into it before he threw it out. Meanwhile, I sat there happily enjoying my spaghetti and "30 Rock".

We knew what we were in for come Saturday morning. Richie, Alexis and I were all heading out of town. Alexis was taking care of some business outside of Machanga (AKA getting out of Machanga because it's starting to make her crazy). Richie and I were headed to Chimoio just to go to a party. Richie actually was going to stick around because he had a meeting that required him to go to Beira later in the week, and there's no sense of traveling north twice. I, however, would be coming immediately back to Machanga.

We got to chapa stand around 5:00, anticipating a 6:00 leave. By 7:00, the chapa was still not moving and we were done with it. We collected our stuff and headed for Mambone. Once again, Mambone proved itself to be far superior to Machanga. We didn't even make it to the villa before we had a car to the crossroads. And once we got to the crossroads, we only had to wait about fifteen minutes for a ride half-way to Chimoio that ended up being free. From there, we only had to wait about thirty seconds to get a car continuing north. All said, we got to Chimoio around 3:30, eight and a half hours after starting to move. Not too bad.

Needless to say, we were exhausted. And hungry. After doing a bit of shopping for the evening's festivities, four of us went for pizza. Chimoio probably has the best pizza place in all of the south and central of Mozambique. Real crust, real sauce, real mozzerella. This is happiness.

Then the evening really began. Having missed the first Central party of the year, I had a lot of people to meet. While our departed Moz 12 friends are truly irreplaceable, this group of Central Moz 14s proved to be pretty good. Everybody seemed to be having a good time, and we were just getting started.

Following dinner, we were conned into participated a ridiculous scavenger hunt. Among other things on this scavenger hunt, we had to chug a beer with a Mozambican while not wearing shirts. At some point, I licked someone's face. But the highlight of the evening was walking a chicken on a leash that happened to be my belt. Seriously, this scavenger hunt was fucked up, but really fun. The drinking continued until late into the evening, and by the wee hours of Sunday morning, we were at the disco. This should make for an interesting ride home tomorrow.

Richie was wrong. It rained. And rained. And rained. And then it rained some more. I fear for what the town looks like. We didn't have a choice but to find out. There was no food in the house. This should be fun.

Major negotiations went down before we went to the market. We have one pair of boots and one rain slicker. Richie claimed the boots and I was okay with that. I didn't want to get wet and I'm okay walking in the mud. As we made our way out the school, we walked passed another teacher's house and he offered up his boots to me. Who's the sucker now?

The boots were pretty much useless. We came to find out that boots are really helpful with mud, but not helpful with rain, because the rain fell straight into the boots. And they are not really helpful when the lake that is now sitting in the road is knee high. By the time we got to the river, we both had to take out boots off just to empty the water out.

This turned out to be quite the market run. We didn't have any food in the house and we really didn't want to go back to the market any time soon. So we stocked up on everything -- potatoes, onions, eggs, spaghetti, phone credit, anything we could get our hands on. Walking back with all the groceries was worse than walking to the market. We had to endure the same rain, the same lake in the middle of the road, except now we had ten pounds of food with us.

If there was ever a day to just give up, this was it. We couldn't go anywhere without getting wet and covered in mud. Hell, even our beloved patio was taking a beating, thanks to the wind that blows the rain in just the right way. This was grounds for spending the day in bed.

Sozinho decided to take the lead on this. He said he wasn't feeling well. He didn't need to give us a reason to lie down. I felt perfectly fine and I stayed horizontal for most of the day. I spent almost the entire day doing Kakuro -- and actually getting them right -- before the energy came on.

Following dinner, we wanted to watch something that involved things blowing up. For this, we turned to a movie called "12 Rounds". Any movie that stars a WWE wrestler has to either involve death, fighting, stuff blowing up, or all of the above. We were not disappointed. The movie itself kinda sucked. It was probably one of those straight to DVD films. But it sated our appetite for destruction

Sozinho, meanwhile, remained on his back. He seemed to be struggling. I've stayed in bed for long periods of time, but eight hours in the afternoon is a lot even by my standards. After all that rest, he should feel bette

At least, I thought. Come Monday morning, he was still catatonic. He claimed it was malaria, and who am I to tell him it's not? With Richie having to work on Monday, it looked like I was in charge of the house. This was actually a bit of a blessing. I had no obligations and I really needed something to do.

I can't begin to express how happy I am to be done with February. That was one horrifying month. February has not treated us well in this country: not this year, not last year. Thankfully, the next time we see February we will be in America. It sort have felt like there was a conspiracy amongst the health, school, and weather gods to make February suck.

But now that we are in March, things seem to be looking up. School seems to be picking up bit by bit. We're back into the flow of things. Aside from a small cold courtesy of the weather change, I'm back to healthy. And what is that? A patch of blue sky!

I can't really say I did a whole lot on Monday, but at least what I did was productive. I did dishes, twice. and since it didn't rain much, a had the chance to give the patio and the bathroom a good cleaning. This is the stuff we brought Sozinho to do, but hey, he can't do it if he has malaria. I understand that.

When I wasn't cleaning, I had the Kakuro book in front of me, and I was dominating. It's funny how that game treats me. Sometimes, I can't figure out a damn thing, and other times, they're very easy. Before this week, I hadn't got one right in a long time. Now I was at six in a row. I'll blame my failures on the fact that it was February.

We decided on beans tonight. Foolishly, we thought that putting them on charcoal would be smart. Beans always take forever to cook, so any extra time on the stove helps. Of course, today was the day that they decided to turn the energy on early. The pot was on the charcoal for no more than ten minutes before the energy came on. As long as the charcoal was going, we used it. No use in wasting it. Plus the beans tend to cook better on charcoal. For our entertainment tonight, we decided to watch "Sex Drive", a comedy that only sends like a porno.

The weather gods decided to be extra kind to me for my birthday. I woke up to blue skies from horizon to horizon. If this holds up, Richie and I will be able to go to the vila for food tonight.

The morning was abnormally busy. I wasn't doing anything except talking and replying to text messages. In lieu of receiving physical gifts, hearing people's voices is pretty good. Between all of the phone calls and text messages, my morning was all but gone.

I believe that there should be a rule that you don't have to work on your birthday. I say this especially because my birthday always seems to fall on a Monday or a Tuesday. I can't properly party mid-week. The truth of the matter is I could have cancelled classes today. Who is going to tell me I can't? But my conscience kicked in. I only had to teach two hours today. That wouldn't be a problem.

I gave myself a well deserved nap after classes, waking up at 4:00 for a meeting. This was a big meeting. The education administrator for the district was here. This meeting went on. And on. For two awful hours. I spent the last thirty minutes looking for something I could use to slit my wrists. I just wanted to go out and get drunk.

Finally, at 6:00, we were liberated. Richie and I headed straight to Madinha's place for food and drink. She cooked up some chicken and rice for us. Madinha is very much hit and miss with food. Some of the stuff she gives us, like the stewed beef she makes, is amazing. This wasn't so great, but it's chicken. It's tough to fuck it up too much. With a couple beers in our bellies, we bought a bottle of whiskey and brought it back to our house to drink with colleagues.

At this point, I made what I thought was a wise decision. I told our school director that we had a bottle of whiskey and we needed help drinking it. He invited us to drink his case of beer last month and I felt like I owed him. And he's usually good for providing more booze when the bottle disappears.

As I thought he would, when our bottle was gone, he brought out more alcohol. But instead of bringing whiskey, he chose to bring terrible boxed wine. Why? Why do you torture us so? Well, we weren't going to say no. The box of wine went, and we felt miserable. At least we had enough liquid courage to ask our director to leave in November instead of December. He said it was not a problem. Now we just need Peace Corps to help us out.

I woke up Wednesday feeling like death. Like a truck ran over me, put it in reverse to see what was hit, then run over again after they realized that it was nothing important. At least I wasn't alone. Richie felt just as terrible. And our colleague who also made the beer to whiskey to felt equally bad. At least misery had company today.

Misery also had good luck today. I didn't have to teach until 4:00 in the afternoon, leaving me all afternoon to get my head and my stomach back together. I can't really say I did much. Sozinho was back to feeling better, so he took care of the dishes and cleaning. I took his place and spent plenty of the day in bed reading an "Economist".

I went into class at 4, minutes after the rain had started to fall lightly. When I got to my class, some students told me that I should go quickly because they had to go back to Mambone and they wanted to get back before it really started raining. I have no problem moving quickly. It was a pretty basic lesson today, as it was -- just a review of present continuous. It didn't need the entire two hours, so I cut it down to about half of the time.

We were indecisive about dinner tonight. More than anything, we just didn't have much in the house. Why does it seem like we're always out of food? RIchie, it turns out, wasn't so hungry. He just had a peanut butter sandwich. Being on my own for dinner, I made pasta. Richie is once again done with pasta, so I will take any opportunity I can to eat it. For our viewing pleasure, we watched a couple episodes of "30 Rock". NBC may not have that one hit show, but between "30 Rock" and "The Office" they've nailed certain niches.

The hard rain didn't come until the middle of the night. It didn't last that long, not even long enough to wake us up. It lasted just long enough to make itself recognized by the puddles in the morning.

Sozinho is back ot fully functional and with that I am back to my regular laziness when it comes to going to the market. Sure, I could have gone, but why should I go when we have him to do it for us? Instead of going, I sat around doing Kakuro and cleaning my room. I was up to nine in a row when I got greedy and went for ten and fucked up. Eh, it was a good run.

Class was quick and easy today. I managed to nearly fill the two hours today. that took only an hour yesterday. I'm moving fast with these kids, so they were probably happy to move bit by bit today.

As I got toward the end of class, the twelfth grade math teacher -- the one who thought it wise to bet me five beers -- asked me if I could help out with this class. I told him that it was no problem. I thought this would entail sitting in the back of the room, watching him teach and telling him if something was not correct.

I was wrong. "I'll teach the first half, you teach the second half", said he. Mmm, okay. What am I teaching? Absolute values in inequalities. Alright, fine. There was still a lot of vocabulary I didn't know, so I sat in the back in the first half and listened, trying to pick up the terminology.

My part of class went shockingly well, seeing as I had about 30 minutes to prepare. One of the kids told me he learned more in that math class than he had learned in the previous English class. I don't know if I should take that as a compliment to my ability to teach math in Portuguese or an insult to my ability to teach English in English. Either way, I think that they'll be slightly more prepared when they have to take their exam.

I was in charge of doing dinner tonight. Beans again. Richie and I believe that we can eat beans just about every night. It's cheap, it's easy to make, and it's delicious. And as long as Sozinho is not cooking them, they generally don't take three hours to make. While the beans cooked, I helped another student with some math problems and watched some episodes of "30 Rock".

As if typing up the test and teaching half of a math class wasn't enough, I got roped into proctoring the exam on Friday afternoon. . The last way I want to spend my Friday afternoon is watching kids cheat on a math test. Unpleasant. At least I had the morning to myself. My kakuro dominance went away. I hit a bad streak and apparently, I can no longer solve these damn puzzles. It comes and goes.

My classes went by decently in the afternoon. I finished a little early in both my classes and offered my math services to my students. Both classes jumped at the opportunity. Even though it's a struggle to teach math, especially sicne I have to remember how to do stuff, it's still more fun than teaching English. I don't know how much my teaching helped, but there was no shortage of talking and wandering eyes. If this were an English exam, I'd be taking papers and dropping zeroes like it was nothing. But this was not my class, so I did not care.

At least the teacher who asked for help rewarded us with bottles of wine. So we sat around and drank. And when we got hungry, I did the cooking. The couple hours of drinking, paired with the five straight hours in the classroom, did me in. Richie, however, wanted to go out. I told him I would be staying in for the night. It was a good decision.

Richie rolled in around 2 in the morning. I was awake when he walked in because I'm always awake at 2 in the morning. I don't think I would have made it until 2. And even with a good night's sleep, I woke up feeling tired. I wanted to really just spend the day in bed, so I indulged and stayed in the sheets until 8:30. When i found the motivation to get out of bed, I made a run to the market. I would have gone later in the morning but Richie wanted the bike.

The governor of the province of Sofala was in town to talk to the good people of Machanga. I, as usual, had no interest in going to this type of event. I know the deal: we get there when it's supposed to start, we wait three hours in the sun for the guy to show up, he makes a mediocre speech in Portuguese that requires translation into dialect, and then we leave, asking "Why the fuck did we go watch that?" So I made the decision to not go through all of those steps. Sitting on the patio couldn't be worse than that.

Throughout the event, Richie was texting me. The guy didn't show up until noon. My decision was validated immediately when I heard that news.

Richie came back mid-afternoon and upon his return, we ate lunch. After that, it was just a relaxing afternoon. Each of us napped for some period of time and I read a newspaper from December.

Sozinho cooked dinner tonight. Actually, he started coking last night. This meal took a full two nights to cook. There are a lot of parts of Mozambique that I like, but there food is not high on my list. One of the things I really liked about living without live-in help is that we had complete control of the food. Sozinho wanted Mozambican food so we obliged. Richie enjoyed it. He thought it was sweet. I find at best bland and at worst bitter.

The nightly entertainment was "Funny People". I think it would have been better if we could hear the movie, but it's tough to hear with the beats of Akon rocking in the background. But it seemed like a good film.

I must say, this birthday week was much better than last year's. And I know that next year's, when I'm back with family and friends, will be even better.

The constant rain that finally found its way to Machanga last week has decided to stick around. It's been a much different rainy season this year. Last year, when it rained, it poured and poured and poured. And the rains started in December and kept up a good pace through March and April. We didn't get our first rain this year until January, and it's been far from a wet rainy season. Until this week.

It's a pesky rain that we've had, raining in fits and starts. Strong winds have kept clouds moving in and moving out. I don't think it's rained for more than an hour at a time, but when it rains, it's a good rain. Such was the rain on Sunday. It stayed just dry enough to not make the roads miserable, but it was also just grey enough to keep us from going very far.

I spent most of the day sitting around reading, catching up on news from August. Who knew that six month old news could be so intriguing. I did manage to get one thing done: I finished correcting the rest of the exams from Friday. In a strange reversal from last year, the letters kids did better than the science kids. I know that seems counter-intuitive. The letters kids should do better at English. But it really comes down to one simple fact: the science kids are smarter.

There have been two major upsides to all of this rain. The first is that the bugs have been kept at bay. The monster grasshoppers – the ones that are big enough to eat (we haven't tried them...yet)– seem to have all but vanished. The ants that invaded our beloved porch have mostly disappeared. And mosquitoes have yet to really make an appearance. The other upside is that with the cooler weather, it has been significantly easier to sleep. It's still fuckin hot, don't doubt that. But it's not wake-up-with-the-sheets-soaked hot. It's more like struggle-to-fall-asleep hot. Regardless, it's a step up.

Sunday evening to Monday morning was catch-up time with the family. I got a call from my grandparents Sunday night and “woke up” to my parents on Monday morning. Of course, I was awake 90 minutes before they called, but I was still drowsy. They caught me up on real news and I caught them up on, well, nothing.

It was rainy again on Monday. Luckily, the furthest I had to go was to the school. The dreaded call from the director came. I'm starting to not fear these calls anymore. This one was about the basketball court that we are trying – and failing – to build. This meeting basically confirmed the fact that what we are trying to do is near impossible. Under different circumstances, like being in America, I'd say this were possible. But as we know, things move at the speed of smell here. This does not look promising.

Other than the meeting, it was a slow day. One of the great benefits of my family was I got a new computer battery. This means that I can now get some work during the day. I did the work that I dreaded doing: punching in all the names into a spreadsheet. At this moment, I was extremely thankful for only having 113 students (as opposed to the 260-some I had last year).

I didn't do much for the rest of the afternoon. I got a bit of a nap in and read a magazine and tried to not get completely drenched when the wind blew the rain into our house.

I was in charge of dinner again tonight. We were doing beans again, and we actually had tomatoes tonight to do it properly. For some reason, though, I think they were better with just the tomato paste. Strange. For our entertainment for the night, we got away from sitcoms and went for straight, stupid humor - “Step Brothers”. John C. Reilly. Will Ferrell. Boats and Hoes.

As usual, I had a slow Tuesday morning. I should come to embrace these mornings because come second trimester, I'm putting an end to it. It's a little late in the game to start computer lessons for this trimester, especially since I'll probably be in Maputo, again, in the middle of March. I want to have some continuity, so I will wait until April to get going. I spent the morning perched on the patio, reading an Economist from way to long ago.

The morning was especially slow because I didn't have to lesson plan. I only had 45 minutes with each of my classes and all I had to do was return exams. The students, for the most part, did alright. There were no grade disputes, other than three miscalculations I made. And I'm pretty sure I made an enemy for life out of the girl who I called out for cheating. She didn't admit it at first, but after I showed her the exams, she had no choice but to agree. I was kind with her: I only took half the points instead of giving her a zero, like I usually do.

I was happy to have a short work day because I had some work to take care of for some other teachers. As usual, a couple teachers turned to me to type up an exam. I have no problem with this, but I have come to like the social science exams a lot more than the hard science and math exams. There is way to much notational stuff – square roots, subscripts, other stuff I've never seen – and it ends up being a royal pain in my ass. Regardless, I made my way through this math exam. It took me a couple nights and one afternoon to finish.

When the energy came on, all I had to do was print out the exam for the teacher. We cooked up some beans and watched “500 Days of Summer”. I had no expectations for this movie, and it turned out to be pretty funny. It had a great humor about it.

I had an extraordinarily productive Wednesday. I used to the first couple of weeks to get my students acquainted to the idea of reading comprehension. This really was a three week shock-and-awe assault for them. I have grand plans to teach these students the actual national curriculum, but this can't start until I get the book. Until then, I'll be reviewing grammar with them. This morning, I figured out how I was going to get a year of grammar (the stuff I taught them last year) into six weeks. They should, in theory, know the stuff, but I know they need to see it at least a couple more times before it kind of sticks.

The afternoon wasn't nearly as productive. I didn't have to teach until 4:00 and I didn't have a lot to do until then. I cleaned up a little around the house. My room was in dire need of a decent cleaning. I didn't get so far as to mop, but at least my room was recognizable again.

Class went okay. The students seem to understand what I was getting at. At least, I hope they did. Present simple is like Day One of seventh grade English. They should know this stuff like the back of their hand, but I have to teach to the lowest of the low.

In comparison to my day, Richie's day was brutal. He gave exams for almost the entire day. As we have said time and time again, giving exams is one of the most painful experiences we have here. We constantly have to fight the cheaters and keeping a tight eye on those students is seriously exhausting. Anyways, he took about a quarter of the exams from one class. That's just depressing. So I treated him to a beer at the market. And I cooked dinner.

We didn't watch anything tonight because Richie wanted to get all of his exams corrected. I won't forgive him for this. Until tomorrow.

For the first time all week, we didn't have any rain. It was still grey for most of the day but not a single drop fell. This was highly fortunate for Richie. After teaching a couple of classes, Richie decided to embark on a journey that we not yet done: the one-day bank run to Inhassoro. Usually we take at least two days to go to Vilanculos, but Richie was poor and he didn't want to spend the night anywhere. Due to his classes, he got a late jump – around 9:30 – but with some luck, he'd get back.

Before he left, I made a run to the market. I figured that if he's going to be taking money out of the bank for me, I should at least get him some bread to eat before leaving. He only told me after that he had a loaf of bread before class. This is what I get for trying to be nice.

I spent the morning trying to do some Kakuro. I put the emphasis on trying. I failed miserably on almost every possible. I fell into a pattern. I'd move pretty well through the puzzle, get stuck, make as educated a guess as possible and inevitably be wrong. It's frustrating having to look at the answers to see where I fucked up. At least my mind was busy.

I taught first and second period in the afternoon, which was nice. Given the choice, I think I would much rather teach in the morning and just get it done. But since I don't have that luxury, the least I could ask for is getting the classes done as quickly as possible in the afternoon. With the exception of Wednesday, I teach first period every afternoon. The scheduling gods were on my side.

The afternoon was spent on the patio. Around 2:00, I got a text from Richie saying that he was “going for it”. He really wanted to make it back to day. God bless that child. It's a lot of travel for one day, even though it's not more than 250 kilometers. I kept wondering when he was going to make it, if he was going to make it at all. In the worst case scenario, he could stay in Mambone for the night, but that sort of defeats the purpose.

Around 5:30, Richie rolled up to the house. It took eight hours and a lot of sunburn, but we both had money. I owed him, big time. I cooked up dinner. He wanted to watch “Hitmen” – some movie with a lot of killing – because he said he wanted to kill everyone today. I can't blame him. After eating, we watched some random Michael Jordan highlights and “Parks and Recreation”.

Much like last Friday, I awoke to a math challenge, although this time the other teacher learned his lesson and chose not to make a wager. This was especially beneficial for me because had a bet been made, I probably would have lost. The problem involved solving an inequality with two absolute values. I know how to do inequalities with one absolute value, but it's been many years since I learned the rules of inequalities with two. Thankfully, my handy internet USB thing was working decently and I was able to get some information.

I worked at this problem for a good hour or two, and the answer finally came to me. I don't know if it's the best way to solve it. I'm sure it wasn't the best way to solve it, but it was correct nonetheless. If there are any math wizards who want a crack at solving it, here it is: |x-3

Sunday. Another travel day. Does it ever end? Thankfully, today it does. At least I slept well. With all the people at the house, there was a severe shortage beds. But I found something better than a bed: sand. Between the girls' house and the ocean is a lovely patch of sand that the tide does not reach. Two other Volunteers and I found our way there and slept beautifully. The only downside was that I woke up with an ant in my ear.

I got to the chapa stand on the early end, which was fortunate. The chapa from Mambone never arrived and it wasn't going to. This wasn't the first time that this happened and we know how to handle it. After a year plus, I hope we know how to handle just about any situation here.

We left earlier than usual and we got home later than usual. Our rides were on the slow side. And when we got to the river, it was just the two of us. No one was crossing the river today, and we told the boat person this. He, however, did not believe this. "You can pay double or we can wait for two more people", said the boatman. We told him that it would happily wait. We had nowhere to go and it would only get cooler as the day went on. This was a showdown for the ages, but we were committed to winning this battle. We sat there for an hour, in the shade of a pile of beer crates.

But we won. I think the boatman went especially slow on our trip across the river, just to spite us. We labored our way from the river to our house and...no one is home. Damn it, Sozinho. Why can't you just be home when we get home? After a couple minutes, he showed up, and we gave up for the rest of the afternoon.

I don't think anything happened when we were asleep. The night was pretty good. We ate spaghetti, I talked to my parents, and we watched "Glee". "Glee" has quickly climbed the list of our favorite television shows. And once again - and I hate to this - I was happy to be back in Machanga. Or maybe I was happy not to be going anywhere for a while.

It was back to work on Monday. I spent the morning figuring out how to march on with my eleventh graders. They've been doing such a great job and I just wanted to keep them marching forward.

This was the last day that I would teach present simple to those students. All we did in class was question writing. A couple of kids were a little slow to pick it up, but I think they got it for the most part.

Teaching five hours in the afternoon can be exhausting, no doubt about it. I think that the travel day from yesterday did not help my cause. But man, I was wiped. I didn't want to do anything, but I didn't manage to cook a pretty tasty stir fry. We ate, watched "Glee" and went to sleep.

I was called into the director's office early Tuesday morning. I hate this, so much. Everyone in the director's office usually speaks really fast. And for some reason, I always think that if I'm being called to the director's office, I must be in trouble, something must have gone wrong. Usually that something going wrong is a computer, but there was no computer today -- just the two assistant directors. One of them began: "You were really busy last year, 26 hours per week". Yup. "And you're busy again this year". Check. Where are we going with this. "How about you only teach 12th grade this year?" Yes. Yes. Y. E. S.

Now, given the choice between keeping 11th grade and keeping 12th grade, I think I would have preferred to keep 11th grade. They seem more enthusiastic and I feel like there is a lot more that they can learn. But it's really hard to argue with a teaching schedule that doesn't have me teach on Mondays and has me teaching no more than four hours on any other day. If there is any downside to this, it was realized right away. It usually doesn't take me long to lesson plan, but it does take up a small portion of my morning. When I got back to the house, I just sat down. I had no planning to do. What the hell am I supposed to do now? In the weeks and months that come, I'd like to fill these mornings with computer classes, but for now, there is nothing to do.

I had two classes in the afternoon, a whole 90 minutes of work. After such an exhausting day of teaching, I clearly deserved a nap. Richie, I believe, now hates me for my glorious teaching schedule. But he really is in no place to complain. Even with his "strenuous" 18 hours a week, he still has a day off. And he only taught eight hours a week last year. And oh yea, Richie doesn't teach on Tuesday afternoons, so we made our way to the villa to buy some stuff. Mostly, we just wanted to buy tomatoes so we could have some decent beans tonight.

We thought that one of the benefits of having Sozinho live with us would be his cooking. It's not just that Mozambican beans are pretty tasty; it's that we wouldn't have to do anything except eat them. What we didn't count on would be Sozinho taking an unholy three and a half hours to cook dinner. Unlike Sozinho, who eats three to four times a day (who knew having kids would be so damn expensive? Oh, wait...), Richie and I rarely eat more than twice a day -- lunch and dinner. We really can't wait 10 hours in between those meals. That's just wrong. Plus he didn't even use the tomatoes in the beans. He half-assed it tonight, and at that point, I vowed to myself that I would be taking over in the kitchen.

Due to the mild bought of starvation last night, I did sleep pretty well. I was in for another rough day of teaching -- 90 minutes with the same group of kids. Since the first day of class this year, the 12th graders have been doing only reading comprehension. This makes up 25% of the national exam and most of them fail this part miserably. So I have been trying to give them a paragraph to read every day, followed by questions. I would say most of the students get 60% or more right. But there are some who still ask me for the definition of cognates, like "What is 'independence' in Portuguese?" Uhh, independencia. The first eight letters are the same. Come on.

Before I had the pleasure of doing more reading comprehension with my students, I was called into duto for tech help. A teacher who was here last year was transfered into the District Education building, a promotion to say the least. With promotions, apparently, come computers and his was having issues, so he turned to me. I have to say that these moments make me the happiest. I feel useful in these moments. I went over to his new office and fixed his problem and another computer issue. I'm a hero

Today's paragraph was about something I thought the students would appreciate: telephones. Even in the bush of a developing country like Mozambique, everyone and their mothers have cell phones. Under normal circumstances, I'd say that the students would enjoy reading about their beloved tele-communication babies. But this was for English class, so they hated it. Again, the students kill me with the cognates. The question was simple: This paragraph is about ________. I even made it multiple choice for them. A) correction B) communication C) collection D) corruption. I was astounded by the number of students who managed to answer something other than B.

This was only mildly depressing. After Richie finished with his classes, we headed over to the villa for a soda. And we managed to find some beef, which was good news since we had no idea what we wanted to do for dinner. We went back to an old favorite: Mexican rice bowls. It's Mexican food without the pain in the ass of tortilla-making. After filling our bellies with delicious Mexican food, we watched "Parks and Recreations", a knock-off of "The Office". It's pretty good, not great, but I think it will take some time to come around on.

Thursday was a lot like Wednesday, except for the tech help. Same lesson, different students, same mistakes, same agony. I won't get into the frustration that was this lesson. Instead I'll address the frustration that is the "voting up system" in the education system here. I can't address the exact details of this system, mostly because it's so outrageous that I reguse to participate in it. Unlike American schools, where you are required to pass subject by subject (for example, you need to pass Spanish 1 before Spanish 2), students in Mozambique pass an entire grade collectively. So they can still fail subjects but pass the overall year. But there's a limit on how many subjects one can fail. Except, there is voting up. If a person fails one too many subjects, they can be voted up by a teacher to pass a subject. This is why some of my 12th grade students have the education level of say, an 8th grader. There are a lot of things I won't miss about this school system, and this sits close to the top of the list.

Moving on to Friday, which was far more exciting. Friday was exam day for all of my students. This should be interesting to say the least. There were questions about topics: Mozambican politics and airplanes. Half was multiple choice, half were question and answer. I'd like to think that most of the students would get the multiple choice questions right. We'll see. From the exams that I looked at, it seems like students were more or less doing okay. I think most will pass.

Being Friday, we had to do something. One of our colleagues thought it would be a good idea to drink wine on our patio, and who were we to object. It started with one bottle, then two, and by dinner time, there were five bottles knocked off. At one point, I called Richie a prostitute. He agreed. He has big plans to open a brothel here, but he needs the seed money to do it. To raise this money, he will sell himself. Come get him, ladies.

I took care of the bean cooking tonight. This prompted him to call me "the wife" in the relationship. I guess I deserved that, you know, since I called him a prostitute. Following the disaster that was Sozinho cooking beans, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. I cooked beans American-style - chili. And I won over the Mozambican crowd. This can only be a considered a victory for America.

I woke up Saturday morning at 6:30, feeling good, to the vibration of my phone. A colleague texted me, in English, saying he had a question. Coming from this teacher, I knew this had to be a math question. For some reason, the school decided to give a chemistry teacher the responsibility of teaching math. I can see some logic in this -- sure, there is some basic algebra used in chemistry, balancing equations and such -- but I don't think a lot of calculus is required for high school chemistry. Regardless, this teacher wisely consulted me for some help. Of course, I was happy to do so.

I explained a few things for him, and he seemed to understand my logic. But we had a disagreement about a particular problem involving square roots. He believed he was right and was willing to put up a wager of five beers on the problem. This was his mistake. These are a few of my favorite things: beer, gambling, and math. And he chose to throw them all together. Being certain in my answer, I took the bet and shut up. He, however, continued to talk until we saw the answer guide. "I'm going to win". "The beer is mine". This is when I knew I had victory. There is nothing like the sound of false confidence.

The assistant director came over with the answer and I was write. The teacher who bet me was left saying "the answer sheet is wrong". Right. I smiled and awaited my five beers. The assistant director laughed at the teacher. "You bet him five beers?!" Even he realized what a mistake this was.

Basking in the glory of my victory, I decided to keep the academic momentum rolling. I spent most of the morning correcting one set of exams. The kids seem to be doing alright. I'm still appalled by their lack of ability to write a sentence in present tense, but they are at least understanding most of the information.

The afternoon was slow, almost painfully slow. I made my way through a couple of magazines from November. I have no idea where we stand on things like healthcare in America. All I do know is that the Democrats really fucked things up in Massachusetts. Either way, it's still news to me. At some point, I gave up on reading and just fell asleep.

Our night was also less than exciting. We ate spaghetti, mostly out of laziness and because we had tomatoes. It's down season for tomatoes now, so the market rarely has them, and when they do, they're expensive. After dinner, we watched "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist". I could have done with just the soundtrack. The actual film sucked.

Maputo on Sunday is an interesting place. Sure, a lot of cities around the world slow down on Sundays, but I'd say that most stores are open. There is still action in the streets. This is not at all the case in Maputo. Maputo comes to a near standstill. You can count the cars on the road on one hand and even the normally-bustling Maputo Shopping Center doesn't officially open until late in morning..

It would have been nice to have the last piece of information before we made our way downtown on Sunday morning. We had a couple of things we needed to get done and we were lucky that they were all in the same general area: there was shopping to be done at Hiper Supermarket, test results to be picked up, and a bus ticket to be bought. The bus depot, supposedly open at 8:00, wasn't open when we got there at 8:30. I picked up my test results – of course they meant nothing to me – and we made our way to Maputo Shopping Center, hoping that we could get some shopping done.

We walked around Maputo, trying to find a way to kill some time, quench our thirst and sate my hunger. We stumbled across a hole in the wall with an aroma emanating from the open door. I followed my knows and came across what have to be the best french fries in all of Mozambique. If I were in a better financial situation, I would have bought a second order. In this morning of small defeats, this was a huge victory.

Maputo Shopping didn't open until 10:00, and even then, it didn't really open. Sure, the doors were open, but Hiper was closed. Conveniently, a drug store sat right next to the supermarket. It then became a three-way race of what would open first: the supermarket, the drug store, or the bus depot. The drug store opened it's doors first, but the supermarket allowed customers in first. Point goes to the supermarket.

In the holiness that is the supermarket, it would be easy to go crazy. But after blowing through thousands of Meticais this weekend on medical stuff, food, and hotel rooms, I would have to be restrained. I managed to escape just buying Listerine and garlic salt, things impossible to buy in Vilanculos.

Our slow-starting day picked up quite quickly. Right after leaving the supermarket, I dropped into the pharmacy to pick up the last of my three drugs needed to treat my malady. And before heading to pick up the bus ticket, I enjoyed a couple shwarmas. This is why I love Maputo: for the shwarma – and the other international cuisine.

The rest of the day was pretty calm. Knowing that I would be on my way out of here soon, I wanted to soak in the hotel room. It's a pretty barren room – everything you need, nothing you don't. CNN had sufficient coverage of the Super Bowl and National Geographic had a hilarious show on called “Monkey Thieves”, based in Jaipur, India. Those monkeys are hilarious.

Super Bowl Sunday doesn't really feel the same in Mozambique. There is no hype, there are no commercials and it's nearly impossible to watch the game. Due to the time difference, the game didn't come on until 1 AM. Hell, it's no longer Super Sunday – it's Super Monday, and that just doesn't sound right. Whatever – I'll wake up Monday morning, hoping to hear news of a Saints victory.

This wasn't a particularly fair Super Bowl for the Indianapolis Colts. If they were playing a team from any other city, the division amongst fans from outside the city would be a little more evenly split. But given the recent history of New Orleans, people from outside of the Midwest couldn't help but root for this team. I include myself in this group. I was thrilled to see 31-17 score on Monday morning. And as if I wasn't pissed off enough at the Chargers for consistently choking in the playoffs, I became even more pissed at them, knowing that they discarded Super Bowl MVP Drew Brees. Stupid, just stupid.

We had a very busy Monday. Peace Corps was holding this big annual internal planning meeting. There's no need to get into details, but it was fascinating to see a lot of things that us Volunteers really don't see from the outside. Although it sometimes seems like the office is out of touch with Volunteers in the field, we could tell that they were doing their best to make our lives as easy as possible. And it was really interesting to see where Peace Corps in Mozambique is heading in the next couple of years.

The meeting lasted all day, 8:30 to 5:30. As happy as I was to participate in this meeting, I was happier to get out of there. After all, Monday is two-for-one pizza night at Pirata, a restaurant one block away from our hotel. Of course the pizza was good, but this night was made by one particular event. As we sat waiting for our food, a man walked by with a huge black and white painting of the now-iconic image of Obama, looking slightly up and to the future. I had no interest in buying it, but I had to at least see the price tag.

The 700 Meticais the man wanted was laughable, so I figured I'd bargain with him, just to see how low I could go. First I played the “I live here” card: down to 600. Then I pulled the “I'm an American, this is my president” ploy: down to 500. I offered him 250, and he said 300. I told him I'd consider it. I shared the news with my colleagues, telling them that they could get it for 250. Girls definitely have an advantage in this: a man is much more likely to reduce the price for a pretty face than for a bearded mug.

I stayed up late Monday night, getting in as much internet and TV time as possible. Even though I know I have to come back to Maputo in March, knowing that I'm going to go five weeks without life's little luxuries made me want to get the most out of them. This decision – to stay up late – would come back to bite me. I was up at 4 in the morning to catch the Suicide Bus to Mambone.

Why do we call it the Suicide Bus? you ask. Because if you sat on a bus for fifteen hours and still not arrive at home, you'd want to kill yourself too. Plus, it's a piece of shit. This bus looks like it's been through a war. And yet, it still runs. This bus typically leaves at 6 in the morning, but for some reason today, it didn't leave until 7:45. Of course, this was frustrating, but it's not like I had control of the situation. I would laugh hours later when the driver got pissed off that we would arrive at night. All I could think was, “Your the asshole with the keys. You have control of this situation”.

The day was rather uneventful. The roads, save for a small, recently paved stretch north of Xai Xai, still suck. I made the huge mistake of sitting on the wrong side of the bus. That's right, the wrong side of the bus. I had the sun on my side of the bus for most of the trip. The ride sucks as it is; having the sun on your face for the entire trip only added to the pain.

We pulled into Mambone just after 9 at night. I know where Gary's house is, but he was still waiting for me on the side of the road. I should correct that last statement: I know where Gary's house WAS. His school plowed it so they could put up the teacher housing. In the meantime, Gary is living with his school director – awkward to say the least. He cooked me up for dinner and I happily slept on the floor.

The whole point of getting all the way to Mambone last night was to be able to teach on Wednesday. I still felt like shit after the fifteen-hour bus ride. Being dehydrated, even though I'm making an effort to drink more, didn't help. I knew as soon as I walked out of Gary's house that I wouldn't be teaching. My teaching schedule conveniently allowed me to cancel class without screwing everything up.

I spent the afternoon, for the most part, asleep. I was very happy, even in the horror that is my bed. When I wasn't out like a light, I was busy sweating and reading a magazine, a much better alternative to teaching.

After dinner, we decided to try something new. Of course we watched something, but we have a pretty standard viewing schedule. “Glee” would be something new. Something very, very new. I've heard that it does a decent job of mocking the “High School Musical” series, and I'm all for any show that goes after that disaster of a movie series. I must say, it's a pretty good show. The music is pretty good, it's got plenty of plot to it, and the humor is just enough to keep you interested.

There were no excuses for missing work on Thursday. Richie, on the other hand, found one. He canceled class on Wednesday because he was sick. His fever returned again on Thursday. Lucky him. In the meantime, I went about planning my eleventh grade classes. I wanted to pick up where I left off last week, continuing with present simple. I've come to realize that I like this kind of stuff a lot: the absolute basics. Teaching the more complicated concepts is interesting and all – I've learned how much English and other languages are alike in the more complex forms – but we rarely use those forms in conversation. I like the basics.

And there is definitely a connection between teaching what you like and how well the class goes. This class went beautifully. It seemed like the kids really understood what was going on. And I like these kids, which helps. Most of them seem to want to learn, and if they don't, they're doing a hell of an acting job. They also seem more prepared than last year's eleventh graders.

Classes were fine and all, but I was on a far more important mission Thursday afternoon. Sozinho had taken over a fair portion of my room. Some of it I willingly conceded. I figured if I just gave him an assigned space, he would stick to it. I was wrong. As much as he does to keep our house clean, he has limited my privacy and sense of personal space just as much. This had to change.

I have kept a school desk top under my bed as support for my back. I weighed the pros and cons and came to the conclusion that my personal space was more important than my back. The desk, put together with some nails and wire quickly became a closet for Sozinho. It took a total of one hour to get Sozinho completely out of my room. This is nothing short of a huge victory for me.

The night could only get better at this point. We made sandwiches for dinner, watched some “Glee” and I turned into my – yes, my! – room. It was at this point that I regretted my decision to get Sozinho out of my room. As I crawled into bed, I completely understood when Ron Burgundy when he says “I immediately regret this decision”. The board that became Sozinho's closet was the only thing keeping my mattress comfortable. It sagged like the economy, and probably produced more discomfort than the economy too! I wasn't able to fall asleep until 1:00.

As soon as I woke up, I sought a solution. I had one other board that I kept under my mattress, but this one ran long and skinny. I think that I managed my way onto it last night. It would be the last night that the long board stayed as one piece. I broke out a saw, cut the one board into two, and had what seemed to be better back support. Once again, a huge victory.

Classes today were okay, at best. I intended to have a conversation about celebrities in my twelfth grade class. For some insane reason, the curriculum calls for a this topic of discussion. I don't know how they expect people to talk about celebrities when they can barely say, “Hi my name is Joao”. Regardless, I went for it. And it tanked. It was an interesting study though: of the American celebrities mentioned, the first two were Barack Obama and Michael Jackson. After that came a flood of rappers, dead and alive: Tupac, DMX, Eminem, and more. This is what gets exported to Mozambique – rap music. Excellent.

I was on my own for food tonight and we had no food in the house. So I went to the reserves. Thankfully, we had just enough butter and powdered milk for me to make mac and cheese. It's been a good couple months since I've had said delicacy. It was a lovely taste of America.

I slept far batter Friday night than I did on Thursday. I actually beat my alarm to it today. I wanted to be out by 7:30 to get to Vilanculos. Yes, I was on the road again. There was a really big part of me that did not want to travel. I've been away from Machanga so much in the last couple weeks. And it's not that I miss Machanga, but it's tough not being situated. Regardless, I didn't want to miss a second party. GREs pinned me in Maputo during the Central party, and I just couldn't miss the first North Inhambane party.

The long walk to the river started exactly at 7:00. Unlike a lot of my travels from the last couple weeks, the traveling today went pretty smoothly. I didn't have to wait for a canoe at the river, and I only had to wait for one of the three cars I needed to get to Vilanculos. There were only two downsides to this trip. The first was that on the ride out of Mambone, I was pinned against a rice sack full of fish, leaving me smelling like the worst parts of then ocean. The second downside was that for the majority of the day, I was in the back of a truck, leaving me burnt to a crisp. By the end of the day, I smelled like a Red Lobster, and looked like one too.

The day in Vilanculos was largely uneventful. Of course, I got my hamburger at one of our favority hole-in-the-wall places. There was rumor that the new twelfth grade English book was around town. I failed to find it. I'll believe it when I see it. And in an effort to cool down from a 100-degree day, we went swimming in the ocean. However, the ocean was so hot that you could almost use the water for coffee or tea. It helped, but not much.

This would be an interesting party. I think us Moz13ers wanted to see how the new Moz14ers partied. It's impossible to really compare our old friends, the Moz12 group, with this group. It's a whole different dynamic, different personalities, and we just haven't had that much time with the new group. They held their own, for sure. Many games of flip-cup and beer pong were played and, all in all, it was a good time. And as is usual, our party night in Vilanculos ended at AfroBar. This was probably the only disappointing part of the evening, but hey, it can't be perfect all the time.

Just a heads-up: new pictures of my family's visit to Africa are posted on the right. There are a lot of really awesome pictures that do a far better job explaining this place than my words can do. Enjoy - LG.

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I had Sunday morning all to myself. Richie went across to the river on a solo expedition. He came back with a bounty of goods including tomatoes and bell pepper. It is a rough season for us. Besides being ungodly hot and occasionally rainy, this is the time of year when we are shy on even the most basic vegetables. Things should get back to normal around March. Unitl then, it's going to be an interesting couple of weeks.

I spent most of the morning reading “Strength in What Remains”, a story about a Burundian trying to make it in America. It's a book stitched together by short, simple sentences, a style of writing I've come to appreciate. It's also a good story, which helps a lot.

Just as Richie got back to our side of the river, our school director came over. This is usually not good news. It's never a death message, but it's almost always a “pedir”: help with computers, the need for a signature, whatever it may be. And today was no different. He had a very important request of us “I bought a case of beer over at Madinha's and I need help drinking it”. Hello, beautiful! We've been called into duty to drink, and damn it, we can't say no to that.

I brought along the bottle of Jameson that I bought in Maputo. It was our intention to share the bottle with Madinha. At the end of the afternoon, we did leave the bottle with her. But to kick off the afternoon, I decided to go a little crazy with Irish Car-bombs. Amarula was a reasonable substitute for Bailey's and Laurentina Preta performed well in place of Guinness. The result was delicious though eye-raising for Madinha. She thought I was nuts, especially after I did a second one right after the first. She quickly understood: after sampling mine, she saw the light.

Toward the end of the afternoon – and the end of our case – the conversation turned to football. The final of Cup of African Nations was to be contested tonight between Egypt and Ghana. Well, my allegiance was set. Ghana is my first African love, the place that made me want to come back to Africa for my Peace Corps service. The game started minutes before we started talking about. The director said we could go back to his house to watch. “And don't worry”, he added, “I have another six beers in the house”. Charming.

We got back to his house just as the second half was beginning. Analysts had said that the team that got the first goal would win the game. This isn't the bravest of predictions, but there was a point: this was going to be a close game. The half-time score of 0-0 made that prediction look good. The stats didn't lie either: Egypt had a slight edge in time of possession, while Ghana had more chances. Ghana added some quality chances in the second half, but nothing found the back of the night.

In the 85th minute, Egypt took advantage of a defensive lapse. Two players put together a beautiful give-and-go and Egypt effectively ended the game right then and there. It's one thing to give up the first goal. It's another thing to give up that goal with five minutes to play. Full of beer and tired, I was now disappointed. I did find some consolation, though, in the cheese steaks that we had for dinner.

I woke up feeling okay for the most part. I wasn't hung over at all. The only pain I had was the pain that was lingering from the infection from two weeks. I would have thought that the antibiotics would have killed it off. But this was a new kind of pain. This was day four or five of this pain, and I was not happy about it. I considered doing the guy thing and just dealing with it, but this was becoming more and more difficult every day. I decided that morning that I would leave for Maputo on Tuesday. I had to be there over the weekend for the GREs anyways, and my doctor's appointment on Friday gave me reason to leave early.

Monday meant I was back to work. I was due to teach for five periods, but with the upcoming week of cancellations, I wanted to keep some sense of balance. I canceled two of the five, so each of my eleventh grade groups got one class. There was a bit of a fight with the pain and all, but I still managed through it.

Our evening was pretty typical, aside from Richie cooking banana bread. He never cooks anything. After dinner, we started watching “Criminal Minds”. We were hoping for a “Dexter”-type drama, but this just didn't live up to our expectations.

For the first time since we arrived at site, I woke up before Richie. I wanted to get on the road and, apparently, Richie was feeling particularly lazy. I was out the door at 6:27 in the morning, armed with a small backpack and a loose travel plan: at worst arrive in Vilanculos, at best get to Xai Xai. Xai Xai was certainly ambitious, but doable.

The travel day started poorly. I had to wait a good while for the chapa to leave Mambone. Sometimes on days like this, I think about how the same activity would be done in America. I think, given the same circumstances, a driver would load a car with the cargo, then get people. After all, in America, time means money, and everyone's time is valuable. Here, time is nothing, there's no rush, and there's little money to be earned, so fuck it. The driver collects a couple people, then spent the next hour loading up the car with rice-sacks full of fish. Frustrating, to say the least.

The only upside to the first ride was that I had the front seat to myself – much better than sitting with stinky fish. I had a bit of wait time before I got a car down to Inhassoro, a seat in the back of the truck. I was making decent time. From Inhassoro, I caught a chapa toward Vilanculos, again in the front seat to myself. It was barely noon and I had already arrived at my low-end goal. Time to be greedy. I sat around the crossroads for an hour or so. Suddenly, two cars came screaming around the corner. Bingo! For the third time, I had the front seat of a car, this time, a ballin' four-by-four truck. At one point we hit ninety miles an hour, a speed unheard of here. I got to Maxixe, a city between Vilanculos and Xai Xai, around 4:00. This would make for a good stopping point.

Within ten minutes of arriving in Maxixe, one of the Volunteers living there pulled up in a chapa. Excellent timing, indeed. He was giving an introductory English class between 4 and 5. Having nothing to do and nowhere to go, I stuck around to watch.

We had only seen each other a couple times over the past year. Even though I had just seen this Volunteer but two weeks ago, it was still nice to see him. We cooked up some pretty damn good Venezuelan food and watched “I Love You, Man”, a movie that has gotten funnier every time I've seen it. Exhausted from a long travel day, and the pain I was still dealing with, I went to bed.

For the last couple days, sleep has been one of the few times where I've felt almost no pain. Being on my back was far better than the absolutely worthless ibuprofen that I was taking. But Tuesday night was agonizing. It was the most pain I've been in during this entire stretch.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well, but I was still committed to getting on the road relatively early. I put in a call to a Volunteer in Xai Xai, just in case I couldn't make it all the way to Maputo. It's not that the distance is impossible to cover – under normal circumstances, it's an easy one-day trip – but between wanting to get a free ride and dealing with the pain, I wasn't sure I can make it.

The ride was the easy part. After 40 minutes of waiting, I had a seat in a car that was going all the way to Maputo. But as we made our way down the bumpy road, I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it all the way down. By the time we reached Xai Xai, I was done.

As it turned out, stopping in Xai Xai was a blessing. For one, the Volunteer in Xai Xai was spending the day at the beach. I can't say if the ocean and beer helped my condition, but they didn't hurt. Each certainly did contribute to my absolute exhaustion. The fact that I didn't have to pay for hotel in Maputo was a second factor in my decision. And closely related, the fact that I wouldn't be paying an exorbitant amount for dinner sealed the deal. This didn't just make sense for my health – it made financial sense as well.

The night in Xai Xai was excellent. The Volunteer's empregada made rice and beans earlier in the day. Her rice and beans are delicious. This was a treat. After dinner, we watched a movie called “The Maiden Heist”. It's a movie I had never heard of, but it was pretty funny. Somehow, I managed to make it to 10:00 before falling asleep.

I had really good luck leaving Xai Xai the last time I headed down to Maputo. If I had even half of that luck on this trip, I would make it down to Maputo with ease. It wasn't promising initially. A few cars, clearly heading to Maputo and with empty space, passed me up. But the fifth or sixth car passed me, then backed up and picked me up. Once again, I was in luck. The trip was a piece of cake. The only difference between this trip ad the one a couple weeks ago is that I had to pay for this one. Still, given the choice of paying for a chapa or paying for a ride in a private car, I'll always take the private car.

I would be mooching off of another Volunteer's hotel room for the night. She had made the reservation a couple days ago and I knew she had extra space in the room. Arriving from Vilanculos, she wouldn't arrive until late in the evening. I checked into her room and for hours, enjoyed the glory that is the hotel room: CNN, refrigeration, air conditioning, internet, and a comfortable bed. This wouldn't be a healthy way to live on a daily basis, just sitting like this, but every once in a while, it can't be that bad for you.

I did make one trip out before the end of the day. I walked down the street to a book store in search of the new twelfth grad English book. I was unsuccessful in my attempt, but two things came out of it. The first was that I bought a new English-Portuguese dictionary for Sozinho. His birthday is coming up and with me speaking only in English to him, a dictionary would be good for him.

Failing to find the English book the first time, I went to a second bookstore. There was a couple in the first bookstore and we both ended up at the second. The man turned to me and said, in perfect English, “Are you following us or are we following you?” It turned out the man, a Mozambican, has lived in LA for twenty-five years and now runs a hedge fund. We swapped information and I look forward to meeting with him on my side of the world.

My roommate for the night didn't arrive until 9:00. I had been waiting for her to have dinner, but at some point I gave in and went by myself. She ended up getting a taxi, the traffic broke, and she made it to the restaurant before my food was out. Wisely, she asked me to order food for her.

Through a lot of dinner and over the hours after dinner, a lot of our conversation centered around the GRE. The exam is this weekend. After originally being signed up for the October date, we are both anxious to get this test behind us.

I had two missions on Friday. One of them would come late in the afternoon: getting to the other side of town to make my appointment with the urologist. Before that, though, I had the entire day to kill. My other mission for this time in Maputo was to continue looking for the new twelfth grade English book. Late in the morning, I went on a march through town in search of said book. I got my answer concerning the book in the second store I went into: “The book won't be ready until September”. So just to make this clear, there is a curriculum, but no book. There are many things I will never understand about this country. I will never understand why the first person off the chapa is always the person who sits in the back row. But this – this tops the list. Why the government release a curriculum without a book is beyond me.

I needed something to fix this. Down the street from the hotel sits an Indian restaurant. In all the times I've been to Maputo, I have never been to this restaurant. What a mistake that was. The curry was delicious, the chicken was perfectly cook. It was the perfect cure to my book-search frustrations.

The early part of the afternoon was spent bunked up in the room, soaking in the air conditioning and CNN. Around 3:30, my roommate for the weekend and I walked down to Baixa for different reasons: she wanted to do some shopping and I had my 5:00 doctor appointment. Of course, I got to my appointment ten minutes early; you can't take the punctuality out of us Americans. And then I sat in the waiting room. As Jerry Seinfeld would say, “there's no chance of not waiting, it's called the waiting room”. I just didn't expect to wait for three hours.

The whole experience was quite frustrating. Navigating the Mozambican medical “system” in Portuguese presented some challenges. The waiting was excessive even by Mozambican standards. But the appointment itself was the worst part. Now, don't get me wrong: I love taking off my pants, but I like having control of where and when I do so. I'll spare you the details of the appointment, but I was diagnosed with prostatitis, an inflamed prostate. The doctor told me that sex would help cure this little infection. Well, god damn, if I have to....

After a trying day, I was pissed off, tired, and hungry. A good chunk of my dignity was taken away and all I wanted to do was eat. If there was any good news to come from this, it was that my medical issue kept my mind off of tomorrow's GREs. At this point, all I wanted to do was eat and get a good night's sleep.

Eating was easy. Getting a good night's sleep was more challenging. I was up every couple of hours like clockwork. Regardless, I still felt decent going to the exam. I wasn't at all concerned about math. I figured the writing would come naturally. And I had added a significant number of words to my vocabulary. I thought I could do well, even after knocking out the essays. Then the vocab/English section came, and I felt like I got slaughtered. Hell, all of us felt like we got slaughtered. I would have loved to have gotten hammered afterward, but being on antibiotics put that idea to bed. Instead, we just wallowed in our collective despair for a while.

As if getting killed on the exam wasn't enough, I had to go back to the clinic to do some tests. Today's trip was much smoother than yesterday's. I went straight to the front of the line and was clear about what I needed to get done. The doctor wanted all sorts of fluids taken from me for whatever reason. It didn't really matter to me since I was in and out in fifteen minutes.

We continued our trip of international cuisine with Thai food tonight. I love most Asian food. Chinese and Japanese are over-rated. Thai and Vietnamese, though, are superior products. I have been itching for some for a while. And, man, the wait was worthwhile. The food was perfectly cooked, perfectly spiced. The only problem was that it was gone too fast. Following dinner, we went out for a couple of drinks, nothing too serious, just enough to be social.

I'm just glad this week is over.

We had really hoped to go back to Machanga on Sunday, but following the twenty-hour death-ride to Vilanculos, Richie and I decided that we both deserved a day to relax. I won't speak for Richie, but I for one was very tired and extraordinarily sore. I needed a day to get my body back to normal.

As you would assume, I slept lke a baby, in spite of how hot our room was. You could have put me in the middle of the Sahara and I would have slept well. I was just happy to have minimal obligations. My first priority was to head to the tailor. I purchased a couple new capulanas in Maputo and wanted them turned into shorts. Plus, I had a couple of pictures that I needed to pass off to Alchandre.

Richie and I decided that as long as we were in Vilanculos, we would be irresponsible with our money. Spending nearly 400 Meticais on clothing was a good start. Breakfast at the backpapers was a solid second step. As we sat around, we met two Volunteers who had just finished up their service in Malawi. Even though we didn't know them, the conversation flowed easily. It's amazing how this whole Peace Corps experience brings people together.

Early in the afternoon, we headed in to town. Vilanculos is empty these days. With the holiday rush over, almost all of the South African tourists have found their way home, leaving Vilanculos a sleepy beach town. It's a noted difference from just montRichie and I both were in dire need of some cash. We hit up the bank, then headed to get some chicken. We went to this little takeaway place for the first time. After eating, we regretted that we hadn't tried it out before.

The rest of the afternoon was quiet. The ocean was absolutely beautiful. I guess the tourists took the heat out of the ocean; it was absolutely refreshing. We could have stayed in there all day. I also aspent a small part of the afternoon relearnng how to play cribbage. It's been a long time since I've played, so playing on this day was lke playng for the first time. I'd like to think I played okay, but I came in dead last.

The irresponsible spending continued in the evening. Along with our new friends, we got pizza. Over the course of the day, Richie and I managed to each spend 650 Meticais on food. That accounted for more than 10 percent of our monthly salaries. What do we care? With the money that Peace Corps gave us for travel and per diem, we were stll coming out ahead.

We went to bed on the early end, but I was up many times over the course of the night. I think it was around 3:30 that I decided to check the score of the football games. Richie would be disappointed by the Jets' loss to Indianapolis, and I stayed up late enough to see that the Saints beat the Vikings. Should be a great Super Bowl.

I wasn't happy to be back on the road on Monday, but we didn't have much of a choce. We needed to get back to Machanga. Shockingly, classes startd late last week and we had to get back to school to do our part. The ride was one of the better chapa rides we've ever had. We sat in the back row, which was left almost empty for most of the ride. It made it quite comfortable. As usual, the worst part of the trip was the walk from the river to the school. Between the heavy backpack and the two computers I was hauling, it wasn't a fun walk. So I decided to test a theory. We've been told that you could pay a kid ten Mets. I told a kid that I had ten Mets for him if he carried my bag. Lo and behold, he did. It made the walk a lot nicer.

We walked into a house that was spotless and and well-organized. Sozinho went to town on our house. As nice as the house was, I was a little frustrated because a lot of things had been moved around. I felt lost in my own house. And Sozinho had taken over a fair portion of my room. I wasn't thrilled about this, but what could I do? The house looked great.

There wasn't a lot going on at night. Our energy came on around 6:30. We fell into our regular old habits and cooked up spaghetti and tomato sauce. The house, now with three people, is a little crowded, but we're happy to have the help. We ended the night with some episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".

Tuesday was the start of a couple good things. I told Sozinho that I wanted to speak English only to him. I figure that if we are going to have a kid living with us, he could at least get the benefit of hearing a lot of English. He agreed to the plan and so I started with the English right away.

Tuesday was also the start of classes. Along with some returning students in twelfth grade, I had a fresh batch of kids in eleventh grade. Even though I wasn't looking forward to teaching, I was excited once class started. I'm going to do my best to not use Portuguese with my twelfth graders and my eleventh graders seem eager to learn.

After classes ended, Richie and I went to the villa to grab a soda. It was amazingly hot and a cold soda went a long way in making us feel a bit better.

I was getting used to the new house set-up and thought that t would be best to at least make some room for Sozinho. I reorganized my room a little so that Sozinho could have a place to hang his clothing. I don't mind that all his stuff is in my room, but it should at least be situated in one place.

Our night was pretty ridiculous. After eating some shrimp stir fry, we watched a movie called "Bitch Slap". This was, undoubtedly, the best worst movie we have ever seen. Our colleagues are going to love it.

Like last night, I had trouble sleeping. 'Tis the season. It's fuckin' hot and we are dehydrated beyond belief, even though we are pouring water down our throats by the liter. No matter how much we drink, we sweat out that much plus some. I was up at least three times during the night for no other reason but to drink water. After last night, I learned my lesson: keep a bottle of water in bed. It saves a lot of needless trips out of bed.

I spent the morning reading “How Starbucks Saved My Life”. It's among the books that a friend of mine sent me. It's an interesting, improbable story of a man who loses his big-time ad agency job and ends up taking a job at Starbucks to get his life back on track. It's not a shining piece of literature by any means, but it's a good story.

Even though Tuesday was the first day of class for me, it wasn't really the first day of lessons. For my eleventh graders, I was merely introducing myself. Most of them were new students, the exceptions being the ones who managed to fail my class (and at least a couple others last year). For the twelfth graders, I just laid down how the year was going to work. Wednesday was the real first day of classes.

I had one class introduction to do with a set of eleventh graders, but after that, it was time to work. I brought in a small piece of writing (one paragraph) for my students to read. Following the reading, they had some questions to answer. A lot of them did pretty well. Some of them – especially the ones who failed my class, but were “voted up” to twelfth grade – struggled mightily. It's going to be a long year for them.

After my first full day of teaching, I was rather exhausted. I didn't want to do much of anything, which is good, because as we well know, there is nothing to do in Machanga. New year, same boring village.

We intend to change that, though. Following another miserable night's sleep, Richie and I went to talk to our school director on Thursday morning. We wanted to reiterate our commitment to building a basketball court here. The man who was going to plan it out had utterly failed us, so he decided that he would talk to a new person. He said he'd have someone by the end of the morning.

Naturally, we doubted this ambition. We decided to go to the market, figuring there was no way we'd be meeting with anyone today. But when we got back, we were shocked to get a call from the school. The “tecnico” was here and he wanted to talk. Sweet.

I had a full load of classes, mostly with eleventh graders, Thursday afternoon. My new kids showed some promise when I demonstrated how easy this language can be. I think I made some converts with the first mini-lesson on the first day; now it was a matter of getting them to think a bit in English. I went back to basics with them, introducing present simple and the verb “to be”. I know most of them know the verb, but most of them didn't really know how to use it. This group, compared to last year's eleventh graders seem younger, more malleable, and they seemed to get it quickly.

The clouds started to roll in Thursday afternoon, but it didn't make the temperature any more tolerable. In fact, all the humidity might have made it worse. We prayed for some rain. Even though it makes market runs difficult, we wouldn't mind much. Sozinho is doing most of our shopping these days anyways.

With the exception of a couple earth-rattling cracks of thunder and a quick shower, it was a pretty dry night. The thunder literally shook our house and a couple times over the course of the night woke us up. But for all the noise, there wasn't a lot of rain to match. When we woke up, the ground was still pretty dry.

I was called over to the school Friday morning by one of the teachers. There was someone who wanted to meet me. He was a new English teacher at the secondary school not too far from us. He wanted to plan out some classes. I wasn't too thrilled about this, as I like to do this kind of thing a little independently. But then, with a new curriculum, I figured that this wouldn't be the worst thing to do. He probably had more insight than me on how to plan out this curriculum, so I went along with it. He said we should meet tomorrow morning. Okay.

Thursday and Friday are my longest teaching days of the week. Each day, I have every period in the afternoon filled. I'm not thrilled about the situation. I would much rather have a front-loaded schedule and take it easy later in the week, but I have no control of this, so I let it go. I decided to make things on this day a little easier. I had some materials from last year that I wanted to put into use. They would get me through this day with no preparation and little work.

Richie and I had planned to go out with some teachers Friday night, but that plan was nixed when we got a good bit of rain Friday afternoon. There was no need to trudge through the mud to drink when we could just drink in the house. So that's what we did. It wasn't a night of excess, but it was enough to help us sleep.

Sozinho should have given us a clue that we were going to get some serious rain. Hell, he gave us two. The first was that for the first time all week, he was going to sleep inside. There's plenty of room in our house for him to sleep inside, but it's admittedly much nicer to be outside at night. He saw the rain coming and knew better. The second clue was that he told me to close my windows. I told him that water shouldn't get into my room because the wind was blowing away from

I was wrong. It absolutely downpoured for the entire evening. Around 1 in the morning, I woke up to find my sheets soaked. I only had myself to blame for this. I should have listened to Sozinho. I stripped the sheets, closed the windows, laid a towel over the especially rain-soaked part of my mattress and went back to bed.

The rain did some serious damage. The ground was strewn with puddles. Small lakes would actually be a more accurate description. And sadly, on a Saturday, I had work to do. As promised, I went to the school at 10:00, ready to lesson plan with this other teacher. I gave it twenty minutes. He didn't show up, so I left. Of course, I had forgotten the “40 Minute Rule”. Every meeting here starts forty minutes late, and why shouldn't this one? Sure enough, at twenty til eleven, a kid came over and told me there was someone at the school waiting for me. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

I walked back to the school and we got back to work. Clearly, he was as eager as I was to get going and knock this thing out. There was no bullshit conversation, no messing around. We both wanted to get in, get out, and get on with our day. We had the entire trimester planned out in forty-five minutes. It was a masterful performance by us.

On this otherwise grey, rainy day, there wasn't a whole lot to do. Our neighbor brought over a bottle of rum that we bought him. He wanted to get to work. Sure, why not? He was over at 3:00. By 3:30, the bottle of rum he brought over was gone, utterly destroyed by the three of us. I decided that I was done until the energy came on.

The best part about afternoon drinking is that you're still awake, giving you the opportunity to eat and rehydrate. By the end of the night, I was feeling perfect. On a dry day, I could have been coaxed into going drinking. But on this wet night, I was done. I ate a late dinner, watched some “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” and went to sleep.

I'm usually not one to speak about isolated incidents. But every once in a while, an incident so horrifying comes along that it deserves its own space. The trip from Maputo to Vilanculos was such an incident.

With certainty, Richie and I weren't looking forward to the trip. On the best of days, on this shitty road, it's a ten hour trip. But that's just time on the road. Our day officially started at 4:30. A quick shower, a call to a taxi, and we were on the road by 5:15. Right off the bat, things were bad. Our taxi driver, thinking we were going really far, took us to the airport. We should have taken that as a warning sign.

After arriving at junta, the place in Maputo from where busses and chapas leave, we got on the bus and were quickly on the road. I was stuck in the row behind a guy who was clearly drunk off gin. He was belligerent and I was not happy. I really would have liked to punch him in the face, but instead, I decided to fuck with him for a lot of the trip. I convinced him that I didn't speak any English. Later in the trip, i watered down his gin. I don't think he noticed. And I later learned, while he spoke English to me and I looked at him like I didn't understand, that he was in the narcotics trafficking business. Nice.

Of course, the first hour of the trip was just getting out of Maputo. I really don't see the purpose of having to stop cars and busses every 15 minutes, but then again, there are a lot of things I still don't understand about this place, even after more than a year of being here.

The ride was going quite smoothly. The driver was making pretty good time and with the road so smooth in the south, we were moving so seemlessly that I fell asleep. I woke up when we got to Xai Xai. We had just crossed the bridge when we came to a stop. Usually, busses will stop for people to go pee or buy sodas and whatnot, but this stop was extensive. This spelled bad news.

For a good while, we sat on the bus like assholes, thinking that this was just a flat tire that could be repaired quickly, slam, bam, thank you ma'am and back on the road. But we were wrong. One tire came off, and then another. What we had was an axle problem.

Even so, we held out hope that this problem could be rectified, but I still didn't want to take any chances. As we waited for a fix, I tried to get a ride heading to Vilanculos. But over the entire morning, no one was heading to Vilanculos. The longest ride we were offered was to Maxixe, and even then, we wouldn't have arrived in Vilanculos by the end of the day. We decided to take a pass.

So we waited. At some point, the guy sitting next to me told us that a bus was coming to pick us up. This was all fine and good except the bus was coming all the way from Maputo. We were going to have to wait until mid-afternoon to get on the bus. In the meantime, Richie, being the asshole that he is, crossed the street to talk up the girls sitting under the trees. This was like throwing a piece of meat to a pride of lions: it was just a matter of who was going to jump on first. He has since dubbed the first girl "Demon Slut".

Finally, around 3:00 in the afternoon, the bus arrived from Maputo. This is where things got interesting...as if they hadn't been already. This new bus didn't have a full undercarriage for luggage, so they started filling the back rows of the bus with bags. For those of you doing the math, if you take a full bus, and take away four rows, that means some people may not get on the bus. This was everyones fear. People, including me, did our best to claim seats. I jumped on the tire and passed my bag through the window to someone who saved two seats for us.

Naturally, this didn't mean anything. Just as the bus was filling out, people started to congregate around the door. WIth my computer bag already on the bus, there was no way I wasn't getting on. I made my way right to the door. I can only compare this experience to getting up to the very front of the floor to see a concert. I needed to be front and center.

Being bigger than almost everyone paid off. I may have thrown an elbow to get where I wanted, but I was the third person on the bus, securing an almost comfortable for Richie and myself. Richie, in the meantime, got stuck in an angry mob of people. He, too, was close to the front, so the momentum of the mass of people dragged him on to the bus. As people settled in, there was no shortage of yelling. I think I saw tears running down someone's cheeks. This was a battle royale.

The funny thing about this whole process was that everyone pretty much knew that everyone was going to get on the bus, by hook or by crook. In a country that packs 28 people into a 16 person car, this was going to be easy. We ran almost non-stop from Xai Xai to Maxixe. The road, disastrous only a few weeks ago, was in surprisingly good shape. It seems that the Chinese company working on the road finally cracked the whip and they got paving.

From Maxixe on out, things were slow and go. There are some biggish commecial areas between Maxixe and Vilanculos, so whenever we came across one, people stopped to get off. These stops were not three-second, get-up-and-get-out experience. These stops took time because people had to dig out their luggage from the heap. I chose to close my eyes to try to forget the day.

We arrived in Vilanculos at 12:30 AM Sunday. Just writing that sentence makes me want to vomit. We were hungry, dehydrated, sore and angry. But more than anything, we just wanted to sleep. We called a taxi, and while we waited, we found out that one of the girls Richie had talked to didn't have a place to stay for the night. She was banking on getting to Inhassoro, about an hour north of Vilanculos, but there are no chapas running at 12:30 in the morning. Taking pity, we took her in and paid for her room.

By the time we settled into bed, it was 1:30 AM. That's a twenty-hour travel day. If you're wondering why we hate going to Maputo, and why we are trying to convince Peace Corps to change us to a flying site, this is why. I never want to experience this again.

Needless to say, I can't wait to return to Maputo in two weeks. Dear god, help me.

Week 6: Mid-Service

Don't be fooled by the title of this post. We are well beyond our official mid-service point. But this week was our Mid-Service Conference in lovely Maputo. I won't waste a lot of words about the conference itself. We had some sessions on funding, monitoring and evalution, project re-evaluation, how to spend our next year, and some other fun stuff. We also endured some poking and prodding from the medical team and the dentist.

The session that caught everyone's attention, though, was when Mozambique's Charge d'Affairs (essentially Ambassador) came to speak to us on the last day. He usually has some interesting things to say and today was no exception. We learned that there were four countries this year who fell out of Freedom House's "electoral democracy" group: Guinea, Honduras, Madagascar, and Mozambique. Three of those had coups; Mozambique didn't. But Freedom House must have seen the election as so fraudulent that they probably don't see it as a proper democracy. I, for one, can't make a good assssment of these things. Neither Richie and I, inspite of my desires to talk to people, have talked to people about the election, but it is a concerning assessment.

For most of us, the week was all about catching up with long-lost colleagues. For us, we haven't seen most of the people in the north and a lot of people in the south, so it was excellent to play catch-up. On a more "business"-related note, the week was also great for people to get up on secondary projects. I received some great tools for teaching computer classes. I look forward to putting them to use in Machanga in the months to come.

There were two items of importance for me that supercede anything from the conference. The first was that I got healthy again. Peace Corps diagnosed me with a urinary tract infection. Pleasant, I know. Apparently, dehydration and a lot of travel will do that to a guy. It hasn't been a fun experience, but the doctors got me on meds quickly and I was feeling better by the end of the week. Along with me getting healthy, I got my computer healthy. With lightning fast internet and new software, I was able to get everything functioning correctly. I am very happy about this situation.

It was a strange week. Usually our weeks are very level, but this week was very up and down. All I had to endure was the bus ride from Maputo to Vilanculos....

With my family on their way back to the United States, it was almost back to normal for me. The biggest difference for me was that I only had to take care of myself. I didn't have to translate for anyway. I didn't need to worry about anyone's transportation issues. I just had to worry about me. As much as I love my family, and as much as I loved spending time with my family, I was glad to get back to the independent lifestyle of a Peace Corps Volunteer.

I arrived in Maputo late on Saturday. By coincidence, I was on a flight from Johannesburg with two other Volunteers. One of them didn't have a hotel reservation, but they lucked out since I had an extra bed in my room. I lucked out also because it cut the price of my room in half.

Maputo, aside from the delicious food, was otherwise boring. I was happy to have one last steak and some Chinese food before heading to Xai Xai. There was not much sense in me returning all the way to Machanga, only to return to Maputo days later. Instead, a new Volunteer in Xai Xai, only 200 kilometers away, took me in for a couple days. By midweek, and with my best friend back in town from America, we switched sites to a little town just outside of Xai Xai. No matter where we stayed, it was better than staying in a hotel, and it was better than going to site for two days.

Kate and I decided to head down from Xai Xai to Maputo and continuing to Namaacha on Saturday. We got an absolutely sweet ride -- air conditioned and free -- that dropped us not to far from town. We jumped in a chapa and grabbed some pizza before heading to Namaacha.

I owed my host mom a good visit. Even though she was happy to see my family and me last week, she was disappointed that we weren't sticking around for a while. She had expected at least two meals and hoped for a couple of days, but we just didn't have the time to make it work. This stay, along with the pictures I brought her from my parents visit, helped make up for things.

Much like staying in Xai Xai, staying in Namaacha was nice because it meant free food and free housing. Kate's family wasn't a around to take her in, but thankfully, my host mom was willing to play hostess to both of us. Staying in Namaacha was also convenient due to its proximity to Maputo. Having to travel only ninety minutes for our conference in Maputo is a blessing.

The only other note of interest is that for the first time in more than a year, I came down with a nasty infection. I, like most people hate being sick, and I, like most men, usually won't call or see a doctor. But this was painful enough to warrant a call. And I was happy I did. The told me they would have antibiotics for me next week. I guess that if you are going to not feel well, it's best to do so when you are right about to have a scheduled appointment anyway.

All in all, it was a fairly boring week. More than anything, it was good to get back to an almost "normal" life and see some people who I needed to see.