Need a wake up call?

Life is unpredictable. You never know when it’ll be your time to sleep indefinitely. You don’t know when your last day is going to be. Life is meant to be lived, so don’t just sit around waiting for the end.

A few weeks ago, Monday, was one of those days for some people. I woke up that morning with some pitter-patter of rain on my roof and decided to delay my voluntary trip to Alto Molòcué a few hours. I’d wait for the first car from Gurué or wait for a clear, sunny day. After all, I was traveling to Alto Molòcué to pick up packages, a letter, and a pack of medicine sent from the Peace Corps medical staff. I could delay my trip with no problems. I got a phone call stirring me awake from a deep sleep from a friend who was also traveling. I had texted him an hour before saying I wasn’t going with the first car. He told me the rain had stopped, there was space in the front, and they were very near my house. I jumped out of bed and five minutes later we were on our way to Alto Molòcué. We got there in decent time, so I quickly grabbed my packages, letter, medicines, said hello to Jesse for a bit, and then headed down to the central market. I picked up some more important things for my house, and after remembering it was the end of Ramadan meaning all of the stores were closed, I found a car heading home. I couldn’t purchase butter to bake with, but I figured I’d look in Mugema later (those stores were closed too) or figure something else out. I ran into my counterpart for EGRA, Adelina, and four of her children in Alto Molòcué. One of her daughters ran up to me, and she said “Mana Julia, come this way” – so I followed. They were all hiding in the shade waiting for a car to Nauela as well. We quickly found one, I never saw the driver but recognized the guy in the back who is in control of collecting money from the passengers. All six of us jumped in and found spaces to sit. We collected more and more people, as we usually do, and then we were on our way to Gurué… or really just to Nauela for me.

When we left Alto Molòcué, I knew something wasn’t totally right. Normally the cars swerve a bit around the big divots and bumps in the road, know when to slow down for the curves, and know where the hills and valleys are along the road. After all, our road is 100% dirt, hilly, and bumpy. Most of these drivers have been driving this road for years and know it better than the back of their hands. Unfortunately, we found out this driver was new. The normal driver was sick, so his cousin was doing the route for him. After a few scary turns and bumps, we made it to Mugema. I ran to a shop to find out it was closed, and then ran back to the car. At that time, they had told everyone to get out of the car as they were going to load 20 sacks of beans into the bed of the truck – meaning we were the lucky ones who were going to sit on top of them! After 15 minutes of loading, moving people and things, we were ready to roll. Everyone made a mad rush to the car and no one was really sitting well. I was holding on for the 14km until my house. The moment we passed the secondary school I yelled “SAÍDA” meaning I need to get out, this is my stop. The car stopped, I paid my 100 mets and was never happier to be home. I got home around 12pm, so it was just a morning trip – probably a record fast trip to Alto Molòcué and back.

I made some lunch, relaxed, played with my neighbors and Max, and then decided to walk down to my friend Louisa’s house around 4pm. As I was nearly at her house, which is across from the hospital, I noticed a bunch of people hanging out and observing at the hospital. Normally the hospital is busiest during the morning, and the afternoon is pretty quiet, so this was strange to me. I then saw a police truck and police officers walking around and talking to people. Once I arrived to Louisa’s I asked what happened. An ambulance was quickly zooming into the hospital grounds. I received this: “There was a terrible accident with a chapa in Milevane around 12:30pm today.” Milevane is 8-10km away from Nauela and it’s where the Padres and Irmãs (Fathers and Sisters) live. There is also a private, Catholic secondary school there. I quickly found out the car I arrived in from Alto Molòcué was the one that had the accident. I found out two children died on scene, one of which I had been talking to and cooing at during my ride to Nauela. Some people were rushed to the hospital in Nauela, while another chapa driver rushed others to the hospital in Alto Molòcué. The ambulance carried someone severely injured to Alto Molòcué and another covered truck carried someone else.

Now, let’s do the math. The accident happened around 12:30pm. The police were at the hospital around 3:30pm. Alto Molòcué is, at best, an hour’s drive, so they were alerted around 2/2:30pm. This means they could have been sitting on the road for over an hour or two waiting for someone to drive by and see the accident. Our road isn’t traveled very often – sometimes there can be an hour or more in between cars passing.

Apparently the driver didn’t know the curve was as big as it was and missed it completely. He continued driving straight, meaning he drove into the valley and the car flipped. Now, remember… these cars are open back chapas, meaning only the driver and two other people are enclosed in the front cab. The people in the front cab never wear seatbelts either as there are only two of them and usually three people (someone always sits in the middle, half seat by the stick shift). The people in the back, in this case were all on sacks, are open to the air and usually have nothing to keep them in place in the car if something were to happen to it.

All afternoon, night, and into the next day I kept thinking – “that could have been me.” What if I had decided to go to Gurué instead of getting out in Nauela? What if he missed an earlier turn and I was in the accident? Who would have let Peace Corps know I was hurt? Where would I have gone? What would Peace Corps have done for me? All of these thoughts kept going on in my head like a virus that wouldn’t stop. I texted the Safety and Security Officer for Peace Corps Mozambique and told him about the situation. I texted my friends and family both here in Mozambique and back home in America. I had to get my fears realized. I was okay. I was alive and well. I wasn’t hurt. I had gotten out earlier than the accident. But still, it was a wake up call.

The following day, Tuesday, I decided to immerse myself with the people I care about most. I ended up making no-bake chocolate cookies (I used hot chocolate powder mixes for the cocoa powder) that I shared with my friends and neighbors. They all loved them.

My chocolate no-bake cookies. They looked like blobs, but tasty!

The day after, Wednesday, I made banana bread with Louisa and many of my neighbors and kids that float around my house. I taught them how to make it and then we all consumed the banana bread. It was absolutely delicious. Louisa even wanted to show me how to make her biscoitos (like biscuit cookies but small and delicious), so she used my ingredients to make them. They were so delicious and the kids loved them too!

Since we don’t have electricity, we have to use a dutch oven to cook. We put a little charcoal on the bottom and a lot on the top of the pan. The big pan has an inch or so thick layer of sand and then on top of the sand you put the pot you want to bake. You don’t put the lid on the small pan, just on the huge pan. The small pan has enough space around it that forms a buffer and the charcoal heats up the sand and makes it super hot inside the big pot – like an oven!

Try #1 on banana bread! It was SO GOOD. A little burned on the top and bottom (my neighbors and friends complained), but I thought it was delicious! Dutch oven success!

This was try #2 and my friends and neighbors liked it even more. It was amazing.

These biscuits were so good. Louisa is a fantastic baker/cook/person/etc.

Here is everyone who, at some point during the afternoon of baking, helped our tried the food. They were so great to be around!

The next day, Thursday, my neighbor girl asked me to make banana bread again. She mentioned I didn’t have any saved for me, so she thought I should make more. The mercadino had older bananas so I bought some and told her we were on! The girls told me they wanted to do all the work and I’d just watch and tell them the ingredients. They loved it. We baked two small banana breads – one for them and one for me. I’m still being asked by others to try it because they’ve heard how AWESOME it is.

My neighbor girls doing all the work to make the banana bread! They thought they were better at getting a smooth batter than me!

I’m just so happy that I’ve been able to surround myself with the people I care the most about. These people have helped me take my mind off the situation and remember how much people care for me. Late Thursday afternoon, my neighbor girl was having an argument with another girl from her class. Apparently this one girl wanted my neighbor to help her on a test but she didn’t agree. After that the girl had been provoking her and yelling at her and calling her names. Yesterday she even hit my neighbor! It was so sad to see these two young 8th graders fight, but after everything cooled down, my neighbor’s mom took them all to the police station. Friday morning after her exam, my neighbor came over to my house to talk to me. She said the girl had been provoking her more and calling her more names during the short time they were at school. She was so sad that this girl was doing this! I then told her she should be the bigger person, the better person. This girl was provoking her expecting a response, and if she didn’t get it she’d hopefully move on. She agreed and said that she doesn’t want to respond anymore to her hurtful comments. It’s so unfortunate that this has to happen, but I was so happy that she trusted me for my help and opinion on the situation. I have never really felt like a role model to anyone before – I don’t have any siblings, I don’t have many younger cousins (and by the time I did they weren’t too much younger than me), and I didn’t have many young neighbors when I was older. This is the first time I’ve ever felt like people look up to me – in how I act, in how I eat, in what I do, in what I say, etc. It’s an amazing feeling, but man does it come with a lot of responsibility. I am so glad to have these people around me to lift me up when they don’t even know I’m down, and to help them with different situations in their lives. We truly are a family unit, and without them my service would be entirely different. How did I get so lucky?

I might not have electricity, running water, or a great environment at the school where I work, but I have the best things anyone could want: a site that feels like home with people that care about me.

So after this week, I have realized I am not invincible. I have taken risks to join the Peace Corps and live like the people here – they don’t have a choice to live and travel this way. We are lucky that we have good healthcare with great doctors and nurses, reliable transportation, and safe roads to travel on. These people don’t have much of that, and in order to help and volunteer, I have assumed those risks. For me, the risks are worth it. I have learned more about this wonderful culture, what I want out of life, and myself in the past 10 months than I could ever have imagined I would. Because of this, I realized that I am living every day as if it could be my last. I don’t know when my last day will be. I don’t know where it will be spent. I just don’t want to have any regrets or thoughts like “I should have done…,” “I should have gone…,” after it’s all over.

Live each day as if it could be your last. Tell your loved ones you love them everyday. Show the people you care most about that you really, truly care about them. Make plans to travel to the one place (or places) you want to see before you go. Do things that you want to do – not what others want you to do. Spend time with the people you care about. Call and check in with loved ones. Life is unexpected; don’t plan every single detail – live in the moment. Smile and laugh – it’s the best medicine. Hug a baby or a two-year-old. Take pictures, thousands of pictures. Live everyday like you don’t have tomorrow. Some of those people on the chapa don’t get a tomorrow.