Chapa

It was around 70 degrees outside on September 29th in Maputo.  I felt the breeze caress my cheeks as I sat in the back row of a chapa (a vehicle that is used as a taxi and it looks like a van).  I felt the seat in front of me dig into my knees and I was sandwiched between two other volunteers.  A second year Peace Corps volunteer warned, “You guys think that cramming 14 people in a chapa is bad, you’ll see how it’ll feel when there are 30 people in here when it’s 100 degrees.  You’ll have someone's chicken trying to fly in your lap or you’ll be holding a baby.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to travel in the chapa.  My stomach felt like it was being squeezed like the last bit of toothpaste because I was also thinking about meeting my host family.  I thought, “Is my family going to understand me as I speak broken Portuguese?  Am I going to understand them? Will they be able to accommodate to my non-meat diet?” 

After the hour and thirty minute drive from Maputo to Naamacha, all of the volunteers climbed their way out of their chapa or bus.  I grabbed my backpack, ukulele, and my emergency safety kit.  My suitcase was already delivered to my host family’s house.  When I looked around, I saw that we were parked in front of a school.  All of a sudden, I heard singing and clapping in the distance. The group of volunteers slowly walked towards the basketball courts with confused looks on their faces.  When we arrived to the stadium, I almost cried when I saw the host families singing and dancing to welcome us.  I saw children, mothers, fathers, and grandparents.  I scanned the crowd and I tried to guess who I would be going home with that day.  I’m sure that they were wondering which volunteer would be staying with them for the next ten weeks.  After the song, they pulled out a piece of paper with our names on it.  I saw volunteers running to their mothers and siblings, giving them bear hugs.  After about a minute, I still didn’t see anyone holding my name.  Did my host family forget to come get me?  Finally, another volunteer pointed at me and said, “This is Gina.”  My lips were trembling and my voice cracked as I stated, “Prazer. (It’s a pleasure).”  She gave me a kiss on my cheeks and said, “Obrigada, prazer (Thank you, it's a pleasure).”

To be continued….