Portuguese Lessons

As I mentioned I have a friend asking me pertinent questions, and this leads me to write so much that I can't imagine rewriting or writing anything in addition for this blog. His next question “set” had to do with my Portuguese lessons. They are extremely intense. I finished day two today and feel like it has been many more days than that. Classes are like going through 10th grade Spanish on 8xfast forward on a DVD player.


The teacher's name is Ernesto. He is a very large presence. He is a very good humored man who seems like any moment he will burst into song and dance. His cadence when he reads out loud to help our pronunciation, or when he even reads off lists of numbers to us is something you could add drums to. Today when we were talking about phone numbers - this makes me chuckle when I write it - he had the notion to ask us our phone numbers. After figuring out how to find my phone number (I had to call Mohammed, my sole classmate, and get the number off his phone), and getting Mohammed's number on the board he started working on our horrible pronunciation of numerals. Ernesto rapidly started figuring out this song kind of chant for Mohammed's number and he was so delighted with himself he kept saying it over and over again to get us to see how clever it was and how easy it made memorizing the number to be, all the while shifting to and fro on the balls of his feet straining not to start dancing there and then. And honestly he was right - it was very clever and made it very easy to say the number and I was jealous because my number is very choppy and boring and not easy. He and Mohammed figured out a charity version of a chant to make me feel better but honestly I still cant remember my number.


So I mentioned Mohammed - he is the only other student. He is from Kenya. (Ele é Kenya) and he is 28 years old (e ele tem 28 anos… I am learning something!). His VSO placement is going to be working with farmers somewhere in the north part of Maputo province (look it up on a map) to assist with modifications to farming techniques for greater yields, etc. He has already driven up to where he will be living. He says the house is too big and he is concerned that it will be too lonely with all of that space and no one to talk to. He will have a motorcycle but says the roads are so sandy that he doubts he can actually ride on them. He is eager to go but wants to be more prepared with his Portuguese. Since Ernesto said that he will get 50 hours of language lessons before he leaves we are both a little nervous that we are going to be cramming in a lot of hours here shortly. Mohammed said he may ask to stay another week. Mohammed is currently living in the VSO Guest House and this is where we are meeting for class. Even though he is a “guest” there he is determined to be a good and gracious host. As he is Muslim and since it is Ramadan he fasts all day long, but insists that Ernesto and I take "tea" (which is really coffee). He brought out cups on saucers and hot water and Nestea coffee and so on. Very nice.

After class, to help pass the time during the two hour lunch break everyone seems to take at the office Mohammed and I went on a walk to a book store he discovered on a prior expedition so I could find a dictionary - "Not far! Not far at all" - it was rather far. Easily close to a mile. But a good bit of exercise. There wasn't anything for Ingles/Portugues so that was a bust. When we talked to the clerk to ask if he knew where another book store was he called another branch of their store and "reserved a copy." He explained everything to us - that means to Mohammed - he wouldn't speak directly to me even though I was asking all the questions. He kept giving directional landmarks to Mohammed who had no idea where anything is as he is not from here and has only been in Maputo for 2 weeks, but this clerk kept on saying "Yes, you know! You know!" When we left I asked Mohammed if he noticed and he said "Yes, and he thinks I am from Mozambique just because I am black." We got a laugh out of that.


After two days of Portuguese I think we are both learning something. I have the television on right now in the background on a news/telenova station Rica, my roommate, likes so that by air-mosis (my version of air-wave osmosis) I will become a fluent Portuguese speaker by morning.


The guest house that we go to for lessons is not too far from the VSO office. To get there I walk along Av 24 de Julho for a couple of blocks and then turn down a smaller street for just two blocks. All the same it is one of the most dangerous walks I take with cars careening all over the place, many many students milling about before and after school, a major shapa-stop (bus), and an insane narrow 2 way road that curves precariously. Today there was an accident just off the corner from the flat and I imagine there are many at that very spot.


When I get to the apartment building, I go on a walkway that leads under the building, and it is so pretty, it is a pleasure to walk on - large pink stone diamond patterned granite tiles. Then up a staircase and there is the flat. It is long and narrow. You enter the door into the living room/dining room, maybe 20 x 15 ft, and then you look down a somewhat narrow hallway and see doors spaced all the way down. These lead to 2 bedrooms, a large bath, and a half bath, and a medium sized kitchen at the back. There is a third bedroom off the living room. It is really very spacious. As with all the flats I have been in, it is rather old. I imagine at least 30 years or more.

Have I mentioned that the floors of every flat and every office I have been in are wood parquet, each in its own interesting patterns. Always pieces no larger than 1.5" x 5" or so and often smaller - as is the case in my flat. In the guest house the pattern is a pleasing fish-bone. Another interesting consistent feature in every flat I have seen so far is chandeliers in at least the living room and dining room, often in the kitchen, and sometimes bedrooms as well. There is one in the bathroom in my flat, though not, sadly, my room where there is an exposed energy efficient bulb that likes to buzz. Some of the chandeliers are rather odd, but still they are pretty fancy and delightful to have to look at. In one of the VSO volunteers’ flats, there are ten foot ceilings with really magnificent chandeliers all about, and in one of the bedrooms, immense mauve colored drapes over the windows, rather theatrical in appearance. It is really bizarre. Like something out of "Gone With The Wind" without the cool staircase and banister.


For the last week or so a group of four youth volunteers have been staying at the guest house with Mohammed and you can certainly tell that they are teenagers. They are not the most tidy of people. At the beginning of the week Mohammed had told the person who cleans the place that she didn't need to bother but I suggested that he rethink that decision.


Sorry I am a bit long winded. I will finish with another anecdote. So it is a jolly ending. It is a pleasingly nice story. Or as I hear the Brits and Rica say - "It’s rather lovely, isn't it?"


I was proud of myself as I ventured out on my own for lunch today after the failed search for a dictionary. I knew of an internet café which was appealing as the internet at the office wasn't working and I had some work to check on (25 Mt = ~ $.70 USD for 30 min) and while I was there I also had ordered a grilled cheese and ham and some mango drink. I ordered a small drink - they come in those boxes with the little straws - but they were out so the waitress asked if I wanted a large. Thinking it would be just a little larger I said ok and she brought this huge - 1 liter - box of juice. So I carried around an open liter of juice for the rest of the day feeling quite self-conscious. Very goofy. Now I have mango for the rest of the week and the weekend. That is my lovely story.