Mozambican Girl Power

I spent my school break chaperoning Mozambican teenage girls.

You love them, you hate them. I mean it is sort of endearing at first when they talk about how much they like you… and then it gets to a point where you just want to smack the 19 year old 6th grader Catarina because she keeps stroking you and is trying to date some waiter named Joao.

It was the annual REDES conference in Barra, Inhambane (Raparigas em Desenvolvimento, Educação, e Saúde), and the week was full of educational, self-esteem building, high five for ovaries fun.

We made power bracelets to embrace our female strength and individuality. A power bracelet is made out of a plethora of brightly colored little plastic beads, each one representing a personality trait worthy of bracelet-esque celebration.

We talked about the female body, and the girls put together a uturus puzzle.
“Teacher, what is a clitoris” – girl
“It is like a little present in your vagina” – one of the Mozambican teachers.

I gave condom demonstrations by creating various helpful euphemisms in Portuguese. For example, the penis of choice was a very phallic but abnormally large cucumber (pepino in Portuguese) so I described how to dress senhor pepino. Oh, and make sure to leave room at the end of the condom to allow Senhor pepino to release his pepininhos.

We talked about HIV
“Its ok to not use condoms when you have sex if it is very lubricated and you don't have any sores” – crazy misinformed nurse that spoke to the girls.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”- all the PCV’s who had to do sex-ed damage control. 1) the vaginal wall is very thin, and the virus can in fact penetrate it. 2) Generally, Mozambican men use the stick it in dry and go approach to sex, and the girls don't have power to demand wetness monitoring prior to penetration. I mean almost none of them knew what the clitoris was… I am pretty sure there isn’t much foreplay going on.

We offered HIV testing, which I actually oversaw. My job involved sitting outside the door and trying to distract the girls from getting completely freaked out before going in. Yes, it seems crazy to take an HIV test when you are in this summer camp type atmosphere, far from home and your support networks… but there is also a sort of anonymity, a freedom from community fafoca (gossip).

Mine was a sort of terrifying job because here I was convincing these teenage girls to go to be tested for HIV, convincing some to realize that there lives are forever changed. I literally led on the girls from my school into the room, as she was near tears and visibly shaking. “Its because she has SIDA” someone waiting in line yelled.” F-ing Stigma and misinformed public.

Luckily, after the test, my girl danced her way back out the door… I am assuming she got good news.

My ‘try and distract them’ approach is how I ended up getting my hair braided. Yes, my entire head – pictures to be released. Because Mozambicans just don't understand that white people look like ugly, little, bald, dog-head people with braids.

“Teacher Caitlin, you are so beautiful now” – all Mozambicans
“Ugly, sick, baldy, why did you let them do that? That was a bad move” – all PCVs

Throughout the week, ae also baked banana bread, made dolls for AIDS orphans, sang and danced A LOT, and had just generally reveled in our grand girl power pow-wow.

Finally, the week ended with a visit from Dama do Bling – like Mozambique’s Beyonce… or at least that is what they say. In reality, she is just this really nice lady that actually has a law degree but instead of working as a lawyer, she wears slutty clothing and dances around lip-singing/rapping catchy but bad music in Portuguese. But the girls LOVE her. They literally went wild and sort of attacked her when she walked in the room.

Bling (this is what she wants to be called… and I actually managed to do it without laughing in her face) met and took photos with all the girls, and then gave a concert.

Of course things couldn't run entirely smoothly. A list of the harrowing moments:
Drunk leering man who, when approached and asked to leave, promised me he wouldn't touch the girls, just look.
Near riot when the only option at lunch was a hamburger and French fries
My student got malaria
The health post was out of malaria tests
I got to experience my first Mozambican hospital and the angry ‘I hate my life or at least I hate all people’ Mozambicans that work there.
Catarina was trying to sneak out and ‘date’ Joao the waiter.
Various encounters with the misinformed nurse who likes to confusingly throw out incorrect information about HIV.
My phone got stolen by one of the girls/teachers. My students were so mad they started knocking on people’s doors and demanding room searches. It was actually quite sweet, but unfortunately their efforts were to no avail.
I think there were more mosquitoes inside my net then anywhere else in the house… hence the chicken-pox like bite marks all over my body. But I would rather look like I have chicken-pox then actually have malaria. So here’s hoping.
A strange encounter with a topless Mozambican woman walking down the street balancing her body weight on her head.
My chapa home having to pull over about every 30 minutes because the driver needed to pour water into the engine. Needless to say it took a while to get home.
On that same chapa ride I had to be the crazy phone-less white girl who kept asking to borrow phones from strangers to call my boyfriend and tell him I was running a tad late.

But overall the week was a success, and the two girls I took with me from Chidenguele are raring to get back and start up our group. So its back to school I go.