Clouded Expectations

I guess as long as I am doing this type of work in the developing countries I will never cease to be amazed at some of the experiences I have that are so different from what I expect they will be. It isn’t like I am surprised, as I learned a long time ago that any time I have expectations for another person, a place, a behavior, and attitude, etc., I am bound to be disappointed because my expectations are always based on what is true for myself. And for the most part, except for moments of frustration or anger or disappointment, I know deeply that this is the way it is and I am bound by it, and can either accept it for what it is or continue to be disappointed. I choose not to be disappointed, but I forget sometimes.

Here are some of the things I am speaking of that can and will happen on any typical day: I had devoted my entire day (Friday), to doing the plumbing on the water tank we are installing on the roof of the office building. On the day before, Thursday, I asked my colleagues if that was the plan for Friday and was assured that it was. I asked what time we would start, and the young man I am working with said he would be at the office at 8:00 A.M. Okay, I say, and plan for that time, forgetting this is Mozambique.

First disappointment of the day. He arrives at 9:30 A.M. and says he had transportation problems. Okay, I say, when can we get started? Just as soon as I check my E-mail, he says. I go ahead and get the equipment out and ready and get involved forgetting the time and the fact that my helper’s not with me and that his main reason for wanting to do this on Friday was to get the experience of plumbing one of these roof-top water tanks. At 11:30 A.M. I go in and find he is downloading a program on the computer and has forgotten that I was expecting him outside. Second misplaced expectation of the day. He stops what he is doing, complaining that he was just getting ready to download this program when I came in and would have to do it later, and comes outside to join me.

At 1:30 P.M. we are going along good when my companion breaks a valve that we were installing on the pipe line, and we have to have another valve before we can go ahead with the project. We have no vehicle, so I say, Lets go to the hardware store and get a new one. He says (and I realize I should have known this before), The only shop within walking distance is closed until three. All of the Indian shops close from 12:00 P.M. to 3:00 P.M. every day as a matter of tradition and anyone who wants to get something done has to plan around those times. Third challenge of the day. We will have to wait until 3:00 P.M. to continue.

We break for lunch ourselves, and talk about walking to restaurant down the street, as the Director with the truck has taken it to a meeting out of town. Okay, the restaurant is only a ten minute’s walk; so we go to lunch. At lunch we both remember that we have a scheduled meeting with the home office on Skype at 3:00 P.M., so instead of walking to the Indian shop for our parts, as it would have been on the way back from the restaurant, we conclude we will have to go straight back to the office after lunch. We get back and for a few minutes we work on some of the things we could still do on the tank piping without the valve that was broken. At ten minutes before three I go into the house to get the computer and speakers ready for our Skype meeting, and at 2:55 P.M. the lights go off—no meeting until they come back on. We wait inside for a while, and then finally go outside to wait, watching for the power to come back on. We continue to do a few things with the piping. At 4:10 P.M. we discover that the lights have come back on so we go back into the house I call the office in Salt Lake to see if the man who was going to call us is there. The receptionist doesn’t know where the man is for sure, but thinks he is still home. I leave a message for him with her. He doesn’t call, so we continue to wait until 4:30 P.M. when I call the office again only to find out that the man who we were supposed to be meeting with is on his way to the office and will be there in 15 minutes. We wait until 5:15 P.M. with two more calls to the office to see if he has come in, but he hasn’t. At 5:45 P.M. we bag it, but now it’s too late for the Indian shop, as it is probably closed by then or is closing soon. Another day gone asunder. I say I want to finish this project this coming weekend and ask my coworker if he can come to work with me and go to the Indian shop to pick up the parts tomorrow (Saturday). He refuses to use his Saturday for this purpose, but says he will call the Director and get her to come over to take me to get the parts on Saturday morning. He promises that he can come over on Sunday in the afternoon and help me to finish the project. I say okay, when? And he says I’ll be there at 1:00 P.M. I say okay, and before he leaves, I ask him again not to forget to call the Director. He promises he will do so. I go on with the day with mild expectations that I will be able to get the parts on Saturday and that he will come over on Sunday to finish the job with me.

I get up early on Saturday with expectations that sometime in the morning the Director will be here to pick me up to get the parts I need (once again I temporarily forget that people don’t keep there word here, and that time is of no value). I wait all day, and no Director. I can’t call her as my cell phone with her number on it is dead and I can’t make it work. Just another aggravation that I am helpless to correct as I am certain no one in the city will be able to diagnose and fix the problem as it is a new type phone, like none that I have seen here. I think to my self throughout the day that if it was me, and I was the Director or my coworker who said he would call the Director, I would have the courtesy to call me one way or another to tell me that she wasn’t coming. I know and he knows my phone is broken, but the office phone isn’t. Before getting upset about my expectation that my colleagues would have the courtesy to call me if something was wrong, I just say to myself, Oh well, remember where you are. So I wait until 4:30 P.M. and finally place a call to my coworker who had said that he would call the Director. When I get him on the phone he has some lame excuse that he called in the morning and couldn’t reach her, but he did leave a message. I am also wondering why he didn’t come over as promised if she couldn’t and he acts the big victim part and tells me he is eating dinner, but can be at the house at 5:00 P.M. I say okay, but know he lives in the city and it will take him 45 minutes at best to get here even if he left right then. I am not going to be disappointed by him again, I tell myself. At 5:30 P.M. he arrives, comes in and announces that he is Sorry, Sorry, Sorry. I say okay forget it, but isn’t the Indian shop closed? He says he thinks it stays open late. I ask him to call, but he doesn’t have the phone number and the phone books are not up to date for him to look it up. We take a chance and walk to the shop. It takes almost 20 minutes to get there. I was surprised and relieved to see that it was open.

Inside, we get the items we need, and I remind my companion that we have brought a float for the tank back to have it replaced and he acknowledges. We bought a float for the tank shutoff along with purchasing the tank from this same Indian shop, so I was confident (bad choice) that they would see the bad workmanship on the float and give us a new one. More disappointment. The Indian lady behind the counter finally waits on us but ignores us most of the time as she was counting up her receipts for the day and seemed irritated that we had come at all. When my companion asks her about the broken float, she flatly says that they don’t guarantee anything. I’m not satisfied and suggest that my companion talk to the man who is one of the owners. He does, and gets a long explanation that went something like, we buy Chinese made goods and since they are cheap and we are passing on those savings to our customers, we don’t guarantee any of them. I get momentarily angry and shout at the man asking him in English if it means anything to him that we spent many thousands of dollars on products that he has sold us over the past few weeks. He plays ignorant of English, though I know he speaks English and asks my companion to interpret for him. My companion who is about as timid as they come is almost in shock by then and says something to the man that I believe was a soft, modified version of what I said. The man of course comes back with an angry argument again to my companion and then I realize how hopeless that is and step away from the counter telling my companion, Let’s pay for the damned stuff and get out of the place. I quietly curse under my breath, realizing that once again we have been snookered by the Indian Merchants.

We go back down the long counter to the ignorant woman who doesn’t know the prices of anything and shouts at the black worker who had retrieved the parts for us for the price of every item, and finally adds up the total and I pay the bill. She doesn’t want to make out a receipt for the goods, (I guess she’s too busy counting up her take for the day) so she calls another man on the other side of the building to do that for us. We go to the other end of the shop and a black employee comes out with book of receipts. He has a hard time with the three copies of carbon paper and doesn’t know any of the prices of the things that were already bagged that we had to dump out on his desk, so one at a time he calls the other black employee, his coworker, for the price of each item as he writes them down. Of course the paper doesn’t have enough lines on it for all the parts we bought, so he has to make out two receipts, each with three carbons. When he gets done, a process that takes a good ten minutes, he realizes he doesn’t have an adding machine at that end of the shop and has to go get one. He gets one from the nasty woman and adds up the bill. It is the same as what I already paid to the woman, and then before tearing off my copy of the two receipts, he returns the adding machine to the woman behind the counter. The shop has been closed for a half hour before we get out and head back to the office.

On the way back I make the comment to my companion reminding him of the discussion we had a few days ago about how the Mozambique natives better get their act in gear and start setting up businesses on their own and selling good quality goods and run the Indians out of the country. He says he remembers our conversation, but I am sure he is in the dark what I am leading to. I am still fuming over the cheap Chinese stuff the Indian sold us, so I go on saying, I’ll bet that owner doesn’t get into a Chinese car when he leaves tonight; and that I further bet he’s driving a new Toyota or Mercedes. I didn’t see any Mercedes, but I did see a very nice Toyota Camary parked in the lot when we left. My companion didn’t get the point, so I left it at that for the day. Four disappointments and missed expectations was enough for one day, I think. After all I still have to morrow to get through. Just to be sure I ask my companion before he leaves if he is still planning to come over on Sunday to work on the pipes. He says yes. And I say what time, and he says right after church, at one o’clock. I say I will have some lunch ready for us (I remembered before when we talked about his coming over on Sunday he asked if I would make him lunch if he came over). He says fine. See you tomorrow.

So Sunday comes along and I am busy in the morning getting things from the market so that I would have some things for our lunch. I buy vegetables as I am planning to have a nice stir fry. That will be easy I think, as I can have things ready, and if he is late coming, I can start it any time after he arrives and it’s just twenty minutes away from eating. So about 12:00 P.M. I begin to cut up the vegetables and thaw the chicken. Everything is ready before 1:00 P.M. and figuring he will be late (I did not have any expectations on that matter. I was protecting myself), I go in and read for a while. At 2:00 P.M. I start to cook forgetting that there is still very much uncertainty that he will come at all. At 2:30 P.M. I eat alone.

After the dishes are cleaned up I know there were some things I can do that didn’t require that I go on the roof of the house, so I get the tools out and begin working using the guard as my helper. At 5:00 P.M. I am finished with the piping as far as I can go with out going on the roof, so I go into the house to clean up and hear the phone ringing. I run to the phone, but it’s dead when I get there. And, I notice the power has gone off in the meantime. I go into the kitchen to wash the pipe cutting oil off my hands, but the water is now off (no surprise that the water and power go off the same time), so I wash with my extra water that I have saved in a barrel in the kitchen and then go into the front room to place a call to my coworker who was supposed to be here at 1:00 P.M. He answers and I ask, Was that you who called earlier? I have been trying to call you many times this afternoon, he replies. I say I was out working in the yard and didn’t hear the phone. I am sorry he says. I was thinking about coming over, but I have a tooth ache. Okay, I say (being as non-judgmental as I can be), when will you be here tomorrow? He says, At the usual time. I say eight o’clock? And he says Yes. Okay, I think, eight o’clock in Mozambique time is what???? I’ll just have to wait and see. But you can be sure I will be ready at eight.

Children of Mozambique--Hope for the Future?

I have often heard said that the children of a country, place or home are the hope for the future. I have been asking myself that question here in Mozambique for the past two months of my stay and I have wondered many times of the validity of that statement. Many situations in which I have been here have included children and young adults in some manner. I have noticed that there are striking contrasts between the children of the city and those in the villages, but in some ways, they are the same. There are many contrasts that are apparent in the children who have access to education and those who do not, and even there, because the school systems vary so much from area to area (city vs. village for example, private vs. public) I have had a hard time to reach a closure in my mind about this issue of hope for the future. But here is my best shot for the subject—at least now, as I am only two months into this quest:

There are the young adults that I have seen in various places in the city of Beira who are well dressed and seem to be about high school to college age. I have to believe with this cohort of children that they must come from families who have some or a lot of money. Those children are active, bright looking, and seem to have excitement in their lives. Those with whom I have come in direct contact seem all to have some knowledge of English, and a few even speak it quite well. Their hair styles are similar to those I see in the U.S. and the same is true with their clothing which is modern, fashionable and comparable to any modern city anywhere. For these children, I hold out some hope, but there are things that they must do, in my opinion to make this a place (Mozambique in general) that can be accepted as a viable developing country.

There are others in this same age group who, I believe, are struggling for this same status. These are the children I see in the streets of Beira and in the villages. Partly because of where they live and more likely due to the lack of money, jobs or opportunity for education are in a different place than this more elite group mentioned before with little or no hope of change. These fall into the category that will be discussed more below when I get to the question of hope for the future of this country. These kids, while they seem to have this same drive for existence, education and status are blocked and will continue to be blocked by corruption and mismanagement on the part of the government entities. Most of the young women of this age group will likely get married and the young men will assume roles that their fathers have. They will continue to be undernourished, will contact malaria, HIVA AIDS, have lung and stomach illnesses and will live lives that end on average at 40 years of age. Before they die, they will have brought many children into this world that will carry on from where they left off with no change in their status.

The smaller children that live in abject poverty are the most likely to follow this hopeless pattern and already show signs of becoming even less a possibility for a shining future of this country than their older siblings.

Here are a few examples of things that I have observed lately that illustrate these striking contrasts:
Every time I go to the one and only large (well anyway large for Beira) super market (Shoprite) I see teen age young people milling around in the mall next to the super market. They seem to be high school age, all are dressed well and have fashionable hairdos or hats and most of them are carrying and likely using a cell phone. Many are standing in line to get to the ATM or are shopping in the store by Shoprite that sells electronic items—mostly cell phones and their accessories. I rank these kids in that upper level that may have a chance to make this place grow and develop if they take the proper steps.

Another example can be seen in this same place of the same age kids hanging around the cars that are parked in the parking lots and at the gateway where one enters the shopping mall or leaves it. These kids are still dressed quite well, but some of them will be begging, while others are selling things like phone cards, watches, other small trinkets, belts or ties and even clothing. These kids, while desperate for money, are at least doing something to lift themselves up from their current status, and trying to make things a little better for themselves. This group is primarily boys. I haven’t seen any girls near the mall that look like they would fit in this category.

The next group down this seemingly hopeless ladder can be seen in the villages and on the streets of the city. They might be standing or sitting around in small groups talking, but not doing anything that is productive. I have spoken to several of this grouping and find they are desperate for work, but none is to be found. The ones I had spoken to are not in school, and when I find out the details, they are lacking the money it takes to pay off the school administrators who are running scams to get money for special enrollments in their schools. One specific example of that regarding a young 17 year old boy named Matthew. After meeting this boy, I wrote a letter about him and his situation to my friend. Part of the letter follows:

…The other thing I ran into this week that has caused me much consternation is a situation with a boy named Matthew that has been helping us recently out at this lady's farm where we have been installing a rope and washer pump. He's a 17 year old boy who shows a lot of initiative and is obviously very intelligent. He speaks a little English, so the other day I was talking with him while we were having lunch and asking why he was not in school. He said he wanted very much to be in school, but has only completed the 7th grade and needs a 1000 Meticales (Mozambican currency) before he can continue. I calculated the amount that this was, about $40, and asked if that would take him through the whole year, and he said yes that it would. Then he explained that there was some sort of quota of 250 students that get into secondary school free, and that when this quota is filled, anyone else that gets in has to pay this fee to the registrar. The boy went on to tell my how he would like to get in school, and knows that without an education, his life is nothing. He went on to tell me that if he was able to finish 10th grade he would be able to get a job in the Hospital. I wasn't clear what he said about working in the Hospital, but that became clear later when I leaned that to get a job, one has to complete 10th grade and have a certificate to show the employer.

As we were talking Adolfo who was nearby who speaks quite good English, overheard the conversation I was having with Matthew and told me that he has children in school and that he has to pay this same fee for them to get them in. Then he told me a shocking story that this 1000 Meticales "fee" was paid to the registrar under the table and that it was illegal, but was condoned by the higher ups in the school. He said the reason it exists is because there is a great deal of uncontrolled corruption in the schools and that it comes all from the top.

I went home and thought about this all night and decided the next day that I would find something that I could assign this boy to do to create an education fund for him. I was thinking that the best way to do this would be to put him to work and pay him for working for me. We have some gardening work that I could have him do in preparation for our gardening people who are coming over to Mozambique in May and I could pay him at a rate of 200 Meticales a day for working in the garden until he had the thousand Meticales. At the time it sounded like a good plan until I started thinking that if I paid him the amount he needs and he in turn pays the registrar, this is promoting the corruption and even encouraging it to continue.

The next day, I mentioned this problem to Filipe, one of our staff members here in Mozambique, and he had another story to tell that clarifies the reason this corruption occurs in the first place. He said that when the Portuguese ran the country the education system was quite good and there was no corruption (before 1975). But when the Mozambique natives took over and ran the Portuguese out along with it went the good schooling system. Over the years the population has increased at a rate greater than the government’s ability to build new schools, and so the only way people can get their kids in school above 7th grade is when there are classroom seats available, and these are very scarce.

As Adolfo said, because of the shortage of classroom seats, there are quotas set for how many children can get in free under the government program. Initially for every school there is an open enrollment for first come first served that is set at 250 for each school. But all schools have room for a lot more students, so to fill the rest of the seats in a given school the school administrators are left to fill those seats with their own children or those of their relatives. This program was supposed to help alleviate the classroom shortages they have in the country. However, though it is a legal system it makes it easy for school teachers and administrators to be corrupt in the enrollment of children. According to Filipe, it is not at the higher levels of education that is making this happen, but at the teacher and registrar level, and here is how he says it all gets started: Apparently when the first open enrollment quota is met for any school (250 students), then the teachers or administrators are allowed to enroll (at no cost) any of their relatives up to a certain number. That works okay when the teacher or administrator has children of their own or nieces or nephews he/she can enroll. But if they don't they can and do bend the rule and go to the registrar with a story that they have this nephew or other relative that wants to be enrolled, and so the registrar allows it. But what he doesn't always know, unless he is in on the deal, which Filipe says is most often the case, the person to be enrolled is not a relative, but is someone who is willing to pay the 1000 Meticales under the table.

I really want to assist this young man in getting into the 8th grade by having him earn the money he needs. I would pay him out of my own pocket, but don't know how to do that without jamming the system more. So I asked Filipe if there is any way that I can get this boy started and not break down the system more. He said that I could just pay the boy and hope that the corruption is curtailed at some point or I could have the boy take the money to the registrar, but have the police notified that this is happening and have them arrest the person responsible (this Filipe said happened just a short time ago in one of the schools). This second option would likely be difficult to pull off, as Filipe says that people are really being cautious now that this arrest has been made and it is well known. He said that we should have another conversation with the boy about working and making money and more details about what the school is requiring of him, and then work out the details on how we might make it a success and get the boy in school. I had to ask myself what is the most important? Get the boy in school or try to curb a very entrenched system of corruption. I choose to get the boy in school.

I can just imagine that there are really thousands of children all over the country who have completed the seventh grade. Schooling up to the 7th grade is available to most children and is free; but for those who would like to continue, lack of funds or a strong desire not to feed the corruption is holding them back. They are missing out on their chance for a decent education and are having to go on without it.

The last group, the most hopeless of all, is those children I have seen mostly in the villages, but also on the streets of Beira, who are simply struggling to survive. For most of these, especially in the villages, either there is no school available, or those that are school age are unable to go to school because of lack of facilities in their area or their parents don’t allow them to go to school (mostly female children of Muslim parents).

Every where I have gone in the city of Beira and the surrounding region I have found many small children who are obviously products of the impoverished. Those that are on the streets of Beira are either begging or leading blind people around who are begging or are simply grouped in locations between buildings, in alleys or around the open markets. In the villages they always show up when we are around, but unlike the village children I experienced in other parts of Africa, these small children of Mozambique seem to be in a state of despair. They don’t bother us for anything, but stay out of the way and simply stand around and observe what we are doing. I haven’t seen many of them playing, nor do they seem like they have the energy to do so.

Just the other day, for example, while we were on our way across a muddy marshland on our way to Piri-Piri, our vehicle got stuck in the mud. We worked on freeing it for some time without success and then one of the government people who were with us walked to the nearest home and sequestered some help. A boy of nine or ten came along with the two men and for almost an hour while they and the rest of us worked to get the car free, this boy, a dirty urchin with ragged clothes, just stood off to the side and watched. Later when the car was free and we had arrived at the community of Piri-Piri three children came by as soon as we arrived. We were at this place surveying where we will be building a school and talking with community officials for almost an hour. The entire time we were at this place these three children stood by looking at us with such pathetic looks I almost cried for them. Currently there is no school in this community for children and so these and others I am sure are being left out with no current hope of any change—at least until we can manage to get a school building erected.

I have pondered on the situation with all of these children and believe there are some solutions. However, great steps need to be taken by the older ones, and firstly by the educated older ones before any slight change can be made. Of course there must be administrative changes made as well, like curbing of the corruption in the schools, but that’s another matter that is out of the hands of these children. I have yet to determine a way that my ideas might be implemented, but for now I place them in this blog as a starting point.

Right now in the city of Beira, as one example, there are hundreds of shops that provide goods of all sorts, from food to clothing to paper goods, and hardware to name a few. And for reasons I don’t fully understand most of them are being operated by East Indians or other East Asians. They employ a few natives, but in all the cases that I have observed, there are no partnerships involved and I have seen first hand and heard from the Ascend staff that these native workers are like slaves, and they say their pay in very poor. So on this matter I can see that this overbalance has to change in the future and somehow these educated young people have to make business plans, get partner financing and set up their own businesses competing with the Indians. I am convinced that when they are able to do this, they will provide the competition just because they are natives that will make them successful and eventually cause the Indian businesses to collapse or they will have to upgrade their businesses and form local partnerships to survive.

For the next group of same age teens who have no education and no means of getting money to buy their way into the classroom, I believe they have to take a stand with the government and the school officials and curb the corruption that is holding them back from having free education to 10th grade. I do not see the government or the upper level school officials taking care of this problem, so a “boot straps” approach, in my opinion is the only way.

The next generation following these older children, especially in the villages where there are no classrooms for them will simply have to wait until the government or NGO’s like us have the means to provide the children with enough classrooms in the primary levels.

There is one more factor in this complicated process of getting this country on its feet that involves the current adult population, but is a significant aspect in bringing the children along with it. That is the current subtle growth of the Muslim population in the villages and the city. By subtle, I mean that that growth of the numbers of people joining the Muslim faith must be held to a minimum through recognition of the ways this growth is taking place. Good examples of how this is happening in such places as Ethiopia, Somalia, Algeria and other African countries should be a warning to the people of Mozambique that it could and is happen here. The process is simple, but powerful. From some foreign entity (I believe from rich Saudi religious zealots) money is flowing into these countries (and I am sure Mozambique is also a target country) and into the hands of the religious leaders in the communities both in the cities and the villages. This money makes these religious leaders rich and powerful, and soon they are pressing the public to join them and become part of this prosperous entity. They proselyte by building mosques (using this foreign money) and encouraging the current members to create multiple marriages and have many children. Secondly, they seek out young women not of their faith and either lure them into early marriage or they abduct them and put them with men who “need” a second or third child-bearing wife. The overall affect of this will be that the Muslim men will subject their women and young girls to marriage and away from school, making it so that the females have no chance in life but to have babies and be subject or property of their men. The subtlety of this comes with is slow but steady process of increasing the numbers of Muslims in a given area or region. Once the numbers get into the 50% or more of the population they can then become politically involved and make changes in the way the government runs. And soon there is an Islamic state, run by the religious zealots with the Koran as the constitution.

I stand amazed at all that has to be done both physically and socially to get this county working as it can be. It has the natural resources and all the people it needs, it just has to be directed and empowered to do the right things and take the right steps, and we shall see the children of Mozambique leading the way as they gain adulthood.