The following is my account of the Floods in the Manjangue/ Chokwe area. Sorry that it's a bit long. :P
On Wednesday, January 23 at around 1:30am, I was awakened with significant pounding on my front door; my neighbor, Sansao and a colleague, Professor Lito, had heard from people fleeing from the town of Barragem 5km away that the water from the Limpopo river was rising quickly. "Nick! Nick! Acorde! Agua esta a vir!" ("wake up! Water is coming!") But before I could reach the front door in my sleepy, dazed state, they had already gone down the road shouting to all within earshot to wake up. In a confusion, I turned on my lights and, for lack of any alternatives occurring in my sleepy mind I called the Peace Corps Safety and Security Officer, Alfredo. Upon informing Alfredo about the warning, he seemed to become as confused as I was. Peace Corps, along with myself and Alfredo, my school colleagues and the rest of the community were all caught completely off guard by the happenings; I was incredulous as to what was going on. Apparently, the heavy HEAVY rains caused an automatic release of water from the dams in South Africa into the Limpopo; the lesser of two possible calamities- the alternative: a breach in the dam.
Having heard little to no information, Alfredo advised me to follow my fellow teachers and community members to higher ground in case the hoopla was an actual red alert. In a renewed confused and flustered state, I began to pack my most important, useful and prudent belongings given the possible emergency. I decided that only bare essentials would be necessary, so, of course I grabbed my guitar, iPad, Zune(digital music player) and my computer (God help me, I grew up in the 21st century). Also, I thought it important to bring along clothes, money, my PC med kit, (Yes, Dr. Isadora, Indid remember to bring my Malaria Prophylaxis*) several bottles of water along with my cell phones, flash lights, and a spare battery charger. I distributed them between a backpack and a duffel bag. My load was kind of bulky and I was looking at my guitar next to my backpack and duffel bag ready to go when I had to make a difficult decision: should I save my guitar or take my emergency bag with me. I tarried, pacing back and forth in indecision until I was rallied by my colleague, Professor Sousa yelling at me to hurry up, at which point I hung Aurelha (my guitar- Jamie gave 'er the name :) ) in her case on a clothes hanger about five feet above the ground, grabbed my stuff, and left. I hoped to god that my poor guitar and kitty would be alright- Inhalete was nowhere to be found and Prof. Sousa had a sense of urgency about him. I was wishing, while walking the kilometer through ankle-deep mud and water to higher ground, that this was all some crazy over reaction; if Peace Corps didn't know about it, it couldn't be so bad. We arrived at the other primary school building located on a hill slightly south of Manjangue proper- the evacuation point used during the year 2000 flood- where I was able to meet up with my fellow community members and exchange our sentiments of disbelief, and speculation about the flood. Professor Sousa had brought a casteira (straw mat to sleep upon) and some blankets, so about four of us sat down and drifted to sleep under brilliant starry skies amidst the sound of livestock, car engines, and humanity. I wondered what would come of everything- What I would tell Jamie and my parents, if everyone I knew would be alright... I drifted to sleep. We woke up at sunrise and wandered down the road to see a sight that my imagination had belied the night before: a vast body of water had taken the place of the green landscape that was there 24 hours prior. I was like, "holy freakin' crap!!! There wasn't lake here before!!!" I proceeded to call Alfredo and confirm that there was, in fact, a flood here. He told me that he was working on getting a boat in to my site to evacuate me. I relayed that to my neighbor, Sansao, and my fellow teachers who were intrigued by the notion of a boat escape. Sansao suggested evacuating his 4 kids with myself (three of his own and one of his recently deceased sister). I was SOOO down, and so was Peace Corps, fortunately! We proceeded to wait several hours under the hot sun before we learned that a boat evacuation wouldn't work because there were mud bogs along the way, and the farthest they could advance was a little ways outside of Chokwe (17km away). So, we (Sansao, his 4 kids, the two Maputo natives and I) walked around three km before we gave up the ghost. Arriving at a road that, to my understanding, was to be the boat accessible point. The boatsmen had no luck. Sansao** talked with the guy in charge of the boat; the attempts seemed in vain, so we were instructed to make our way to the cuartel da 8a brigada, a whopping 7 km away under the sun. Having no alternatives, we all started walking.
The kids were amazing. We only had to give Miro (the 4 year old) a piggy back ride a few times. The water I brought turned out to be a godsend- by the end, we had just enough to hydrate every burden-laden man and child for the trip. We definitely needed every drop. We walked there and stayed the night thanks to Alfredo's and Sansao's negotiations with the chefe of the brigade. We had Spaghetti and beans for dinner (weird combination, granted but it was freaking delicious, considering the fact that none of us had eaten much that day). We got word that they were going to try to make the boat rescue work again; this time, through a canal that Sansao** remembered that runs through the countryside North of Manjangue. We'd have to hike the 7km back to the school, where we spent the first night. Blah. We set out around 5:00am and were lucky enough to get a boleia (ride) from a pickup truck that was passing by. We made it back to the school and noticed that the waters had receded significantly. The truck gave us another ride to a place where people were crossing the flood waters to the main road (from Barragem to Manjangue). We waded through waist-deep water (Miro on his father's shoulders) and reached the road. I almost lost one of my chinelos (sandals) but it was luckily picked up by a lady crossing the river and given back. Upon reaching the road, we marched along about 5 km to Manjangue, at which point I was able to reach my house; the water had receded almost to where you wouldn't have guessed that there was ever a flood. I found my house laden with about an inch of mud and everything in disorder by the flood waters. Having a raised foundation, the water protruded only about three feet above my floor and didn't affect anything hanging on the clothes hangers, walls, or on the bed. I could just imagine my house filled with water hours before, all my things floating as jetsam in the murk. I was ecstatic to find Inhalete alive, and meowing incessantly. It wal like she was saying "wtf just happened and where were you?!" Poor thing must have been in the house the whole time. If the water level had climbed much higher than it had, she might have been a goner. I had to sit and pet her for a few minutes. I grabbed some books, my pictures, my guitar (luckily, still hanging up and unaffected by the water) and my cat and left the house.
We all started hiking along the road towards Chokwe looking for an INGC (institução nacional da gestão de calamidades) car, that Alfredo had helped to dispatch, which would give us a boleia back to Chokwe. it finally found us, hot, thirsty and tired on the side of the road. At one point it had to ford about a quarter-kilometer stretch of very deep flood water (almost waist-deep) that had enveloped the road. The INGC truck was a burly, raised Land Cruiser with a snorkel (kinda wants); it had no problem going slowly through the water. We got to Chokwe to find it flooded and teeming; everything except the elevated main road was under about a meter or two of water. An incredible amount of people was wading around in the muddy water, passing to and fro. People had taken refuge on the rooves of buildings and the military was there with the INGC. I noticed that there were many stores that had been broken into and few food sellers to be found. The sight was shockingly surreal; it was Chokwe but immersed in a lake with no cellphone credit vendors to be found****. We didn't have to wait too long (close to an hour) for Alfredo to come to Chokwe with a driver in a Chapa da Paz, as we called it in PST-a white, raised Land Rover, clad with the Peace Corps symbol and a snorkel only slightly smaller than the INGC's. We all took pictures of the devastation out the windows; the road had not been clear for ver long, judging by the level of the water and the debris in the road. We drove about an hour to Macia where we dropped off Sansao, his kids and the two college kids. I thanked him profusely and he, with his kids boarded another chapa for Maputo. We unfortunately couldn't spare the room all the way to Maputo because the MOZ 18ers had to be evacuated from Macia as well but at least everyone was together and safely away from the flood zone. I couldn't take Inhalete to Maputo because the hotels don't permit animals so I left Inhalete in the capable hands of Mike and Marissa's neighbors that gave her shelter, food and water. I was sad to leave her, but was happy that she would survive; at least she was better off there than she was in Manjangue. Directly afterwards, I rode back along with three 18ers, Alfredo and the driver to Maputo, where we checked into hotels and awaited further instruction. It's now been under two weeks week since then. I've since then heard that Guija, another nearby site belonging to another MOZ 19er as well as a health volunteer, was still unaccessible by road. I got word that people have already moved back into town and that there's electricity but, ironically, no water; the public faucets are not working yet. I am wondering about my community, Chokwe and their near future. Will we get to begin school again in a timely fashion? Will students come to school at all when there are crops to be re-sewn? How badly will the ruined infrastructure, disease and lost crops affect the people in Gaza province? When will there be potable water again soon in Manjangue? I can't help but recognize that, although I was affected by the flood, It seems like everyone else was affected to a much greater extent. All my belongings (that I deemed very important) were saved, but not everyone was so lucky. Sansao's house was broken into- to add insult to injury- and a majority of his and his family's things will have to be replaced. He told me he'd have to start over again like he'd done about 12 years prior. My fellow PCVs in Guija and Chokwe will have had more significant flood damage and, therefore, more to replace. I feel like I was very lucky in the whole situation; I suffered minimal loss and the help of Sansao, my fellow teachers and Peace Corps was amazing.
This was simply a bad situation; a flood, lots of people in rural communities, poor communication to the public on the part of official sources, less than great infrastructure and no formal emergency evacuation plans for the community. What's worse, it seems like the recuperation of all that was lost will be slow; some lost their home, livelihood, their belongings and worse. Although, it wasn't a final judgment or a reckoning day. I know that the people in Gaza will return to business-as-usual and carry on with their heads held high.
"Rain fell like judgement across my judgement across my window pane. Said it fell like judgement but it was only rain." - Greg Graffin of Bad Religion from the song "Only Rain"
*Dr. Isadora is the Mozambique Peace Corps Medical Officer (PCMO). She, during our PST, heavily emphasized to take our weekly malaria prevention medicine (Larium) at all costs. As if the threat of getting Malaria wasn't enough, PCVs in this country have to take all possible measures to prevent getting malaria under pain of MEDSEP (Medical Separation- The termination of the relationship between a volunteer and Peace Corps based on medical grounds) or even ADMINSEP (The termination of the relationship between a volunteer and Peace Corps based on grounds of breaking rules, being an idiot, or doing harm to the overall mission of Peace Corps).
**-Seriously, Sansao saved the day. He communicated with all the people involved because I wasn't confident enough in my own Portuguese comprehension and communication to make the wellbeing of six people and myself dependent on my understanding of what was being said. Better left to native speaker. Also, Sansao's idea to look for the canal brought us much closer to being extracted.
***-After having communicated so much with Alfredo, my pre-pay phone service had run out at this point. In Chokwe, as with in most cities/ towns, you can always find several men, women, boys and girls wearing a yellow tunic and a fanny pack selling small pieces of cardboard, with codes on them. This is how most people in Mozambique buy phone credit- instead of monthly plans, there are credit-and-call systems. It was a severe deviation from normalcy, that there were none of these vendors- a sign that everyone in Chokwe had been caught unawares or didn't heed any warning.
