Now We´re Cooking

The other day I looked up and I realized that I have been living in Cape Verde for more than three months now. I cannot exactly say that time has flown by, especially when I consider the nine weeks hard time in Pre-Service Training. At times those minutes felt like hours. Even now, as I settle into my new home on the island of São Vicente, I would have to say that the last three months has felt like… well… three months.

The only thing that really shocks me is the thought that I have been here in Cape Verde for a longer period of time than I spent in South Africa last summer. It isn't a question of how fast or slow the time has passed. Instead, I find myself comparing everything I did in South Africa with everything I have done so far here, and honestly, there is no comparison. The good news is: that puts me right on track with the Peace Corps' expectations of a new Volunteer. Let me explain.

Much of the Peace Corps approach to development work grows out of a process known as PACA—that is, Participatory Analysis for Community Action. I'll skip the seminar and settle for giving you a snapshot of what this actually means. Basically, instead of showing up as an “expert”—presumably fresh off the boat from a faraway land and culture—and prescribing remedies for the development of a given community, PACA is a strategy for immersion and research, with the goal of eventually being in a position to actually help. The key word is “eventually.” For example, before you pitch an idea to a community leader about building a cool new community center, you might spend a few weeks compiling a “seasonal calendar” or a “daily calendar” that would help you to understand the patterns of life of different people or groups within that community. Why is that so important? Well, it would help you figure out when the best time to schedule a planning meeting would be. Or, who might actually use the community center, and when might they use it.

The good thing about PACA is that it works. The tough thing is that so many of us volunteer-types want to jump right in and get our hands dirty. We want to feel like we are actually making a difference and changing the world (wait, did I say that out loud?). But when you combine the training phase with the emphasis on easing into our actual assignments, you are left with three months that feel worthwhile, yet not exactly game-changing. Sure, I got to roll up my sleeves a little during my first three months here, but only in the last week or so have I really started cooking.

In the literal sense, I have been helping to teach a culinary class, and after two weeks of theory in the classroom we took our first trip to the kitchen. The lead instructor of the class is the General Manager of Ponte d'Agua, one of the classier establishments in our city. This week's visit to their kitchen—where the practical sessions will be held—brought me back in time to my first “real job” at the Burlingame Country Club. Now you know your boy can burn, but I am hardly qualified to train fifteen students who are looking to land a actual job in a professional kitchen. Instead, my role as a an instructor is to address elements of professionalism and entrepreneurship to add value to the training. My work experience in the industry is just a plus.

Things are also heating up in terms of my other responsibilities at work. This week, Rory and I started teaching an English class for the staff and volunteer leaders of the Centro da Juventude. We also just submitted plans for two more classes that we will start teaching in November: Aula de Profissionalismo and Aula de Microsoft Excel.

Feeling productive is not just about doing development work and changing the world. Sometimes it’s just a question of feeling like you're living right. For some it may mean going to church, for others it means spending quality time with the kids. In my life there has always been a correlation between living right and cooking. If I haven't cooked a meal for a week then I know there is something wrong. In other words, something (psychological or situational?) is stopping me from making time for the right things in my life.

Fortunately, as the title of this post suggest, the kitchen is officially open. Rory and I have been piecing it together over the last four weeks—a cutting board here, a can opener there. We've sourced our favorite spices (or at least the ones that are available), and now we know who’s got if for cheap. But last week I knew the final piece had fallen into place when I got a phone call from DHL* saying a package had arrived for me… MY KNIVES! Thank you Big Brother Jaime-san for making that happen, and I hope they served you well over the last two years.

We wasted no time getting to work in the kitchen at home. We recently hosted “family dinner” for the seven Peace Corps Volunteers that live on this island. We’ve also knocked out some tasty spaghetti (a little too often), sweet curry chicken with sautéed greens, rosemary pork chops with mashed potatoes, spicy popcorn chicken, sweet and sour chicken, sweet and sour pork, and fried rice. If you are wondering about the last three dishes, the answer is yes: there are plenty of Chinese people in Cape Verde. But they just can’t burn like the Chinese people back home in the States, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.

As I wrap up this family-sized portion of a post, I have to give a quick shout-out. Since I started Live From Tomorrow I have had a couple of friends tell me that they have been inspired to start their own blogs. Since we’ve been talking about cooking, I want to take a moment to plug one of those. “A Vu on Food” is the work of my littlest friend with the biggest heart (and appetite). After studying at Le Cordon Bleu in London, Christina Vu launched her blog as a way to share her foodie adventures from around the world. Whether you’re looking for a creative new recipe, or just want to sit, read, and salivate, I highly recommend you take a trip (by clicking on the link above). Until the next meal…

Pura Vida,

Drew

*If you are sending me a care package (you are, aren't you?)... DO NOT USE DHL!!! It is stupid expensive. I recommend International Flat Rate Shipping from the good 'ol USPS. Also, do not declare some ridiculous inflated value, because I will have to pay customs on my end.

Silas Chandler

Warning: this post is NOT about my life in Cape Verde... it's just about life, family, history, and slavery. In that sense, I guess it is related to Cape Verde, one of the historic hubs of the Atlantic slave trade. But if you're looking for a travel blog that rambles on about all the cool stuff here, you can skip this entry.

My guess is that most of you have NO idea who Silas Chandler was... well, he was my Great Great Grandfather, who was the last slave in my family, and the first to "get free." A few years back a tintype of him was appraised for a pretty penny on PBS Antique Roadshow. Since then, his memory and story has been (mis)appropriated by many, including some "historical societies" seeking to propogate or reinforce the myth of the Lost Cause.

Last year while researching my family, I came across a blog called CWMemory (Civil War Memory), hosted by a high school history teacher in the South. The blog included a recent post called "Descendants of Silas Chandler Speak Out" which featured a real dose of truth from my cousin Myra, who I actually did not know at that point. After reading her post, I emailed the history teacher, Kevin Levin, to offer my perspective as another descendant of Silas Chandler and to request an introduction to my cousin. Mr. Levin featured my email in the next post, along with his response to it.

Here it is:

____________________________________________________

"DESCENDANTS OF SILAS CHANDLER SPEAK OUT (PART 2)

Afew weeks ago I shared an email I received from a descendant of Silas Chandler, who is one of the most popular “black Confederates.” I’ve been in contact with two descendants and am planning a telephone conversation, which I hope will lead to an announcement of some ideas I have to help bring a more complete story of this individual to the general public. Yesterday I received an email from yet another descendant, [Andrew Williams]:

(italics added by Kevin Levin for emphasis)

I am a direct descendent of Silas Chandler from California. Over the years, I have heard many versions of Silas’ story, from family, on the web, and from Confederate historical societies. Thank you to Ms. Sampson for shedding some light on the subject from a reliable, direct source.

I remember when my great, great grandfather Silas was awarded the Iron Cross posthumously, and some members of my family attended the ceremony. While I’ve always had mixed feelings about it, it has ultimately become [a] source of pride for me, not offense. I may never be exactly sure how it went down, but I know that I have Silas to thank for my freedom. Believe me, I have no love for the Confederacy or its symbols… I’m just also no big fan of the Yankees, and have no illusions about why the Civil War was fought.

I also know that some of the greatest men in history end up being “honored” by their enemies. This would not be the first time that history has been rewritten to make folks look more sympathetic or benevolent (see the movie “Glory” and the mounds of misinformation that it contains).

Anyone that thinks that Silas joined the Confederate army out of some “love” for his master is naive at best, and stupid/racist at worst. That being said, there were many slaves that were dragged into the field to fight against their own self-interest. This happened in the Civil War, and in the wars for centuries and millennia before.

Honestly, I just hope this discussion unearths as much truth as possible. Thank you again to the Chandler family for helping to set the record straight. I look forward to learning more.

Andrew Foster Williams
Oakland, CA

The (in)famous tintype of Andrew & Silas Chandler

I, [Kevin Levin], am featuring this comment for a couple of reasons.

Most importantly, it reflects a memory of the war that is much more complex than anything the Sons of Confederate Veterans or United Daughters of the Confederacy would have you believe about the legacy of the Civil War within the African-American community. Both organizations reduce their narratives down to loyalty to master and cause and they do this by commemorating slaves as soldiers. Their preferred narrative has nothing to do with understanding the story of black men in the army or helping families uncover their histories; rather, it is an attempt to dissociate the Confederate war effort from slavery as well as the Lost Cause myth that slavery was benign. Unfortunately, both organizations have been successful in convincing black families to take part.

What I appreciate about Mr. Williams’s response is the extent to which his narrative fails to support or vindicate either a Lost Cause or Emancipationist view of the war. It sits uncomfortably in the middle. On the one hand Mr. Williams has little patience for stories of a loyal Silas Chandler, but he is also suspicious of the assumptions that reduce the United States to the moral cause of emancipation.

Mr. Williams's comment may also tell us something about why African Americans have been absent from public commemorations of the Civil War and why they may stay away during the Civil War Sesquicentennial. After all, much of our public remembrance and memory of the war is wrapped up in the dichotomies of North v. South and Union v Confederate. Where does Mr. Williams's memory of the war fit into all of this? It's no wonder that many African Americans are suspicious of Civil War Memory.

- Kevin Levin

March 10, 2010

http://cwmemory.com/2010/03/20/descendants-of-silas-chandler-speak-out-part-2/

_________________________________________________________

After this exchange Mr. Levin introduced me by email to y cousin, Myra Chandler Sampson, who took it upon herself to do some serious research to set the record straight. So why am I posting this on Live From Tomorrow, today? Simple reason: tonight PBS is doing a special that will (hopefully) tell the true story Silas Chandler, and the now-infamous tintype that sparked off the controversy. Unfortunately, I will not be able to watch it live because I am in Cape Verde. So, please watch for me!!! I promise it will be interesting. I'll let PBS take it from here... long live the truth!!!

Pura Vida,

Drew

Silas and Lucy Chandler on their Wedding Day 1859/60. They were still slaves at the time.

My Favorite Dogs in the World

Over the years this blog has featured a few good lists. Some of you might have been there for the first one, “5 Things I Missed About Guahan,” which I concocted upon returning to the island after a month-long stay in New Zealand. Then there was my personal favorite, “A Few Good Words,” which was a crash-course in survivalist Johannesburg slang. On the more sentimental side, “5 Things I’ve Missed About Home” revealed my reflections while preparing to head back to California after an amazing three months in South Africa. Within that list there was a less sentimental, but equally important sub-list, “Drew’s Favorite Eat-Spot Awards,” which still stands as an ode to the wonders of Bay Area Cuisine, both fine and frugal. But judging from the feedback, the most popular lists on this blog tend to be the bibliographies (2010, 2011), which serve as a snapshot of all the worlds that I visit while I’m visiting the world. So, in the spirit of a good old-fashion list, I present to you…

“My Favorite Dogs in the World” (in no particular order)

5. Cheeba

Breed: Rottweiler

Father: Unity Lewis

Relation to Me: Nephew

Special Move, Skills or Ability: Insists that you walk up/down the stairs first, then proceeds to run into the backs of your legs.

Notes:
This full-sized canine looks like a killer, but he wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight. On the other hand, he did almost eat Dino that one time. What do I like about Cheeba? He’s just like his daddy: just chillin’ in the studio.

4. Sparky & Bailey

Breed: Cairn Terriers

Mother: Carmen Anthony
Relation to Me: Cousins

Special Move, Skills, Ability: Staying Alive

Notes:
Sparky & Bailey score major points for longevity. They can be found in the Oakland hills, taking their morning and afternoon walks along with the other local elderly couples. They look similar, but Bailey (the lady) is the one calling the shots (“pee here, sniff there, skip that bush, poop here, and we’re heading back now”). Hang in there little guys!

3. Chance & Charlie

Breeds:Boxer & Terrier Mutt
Mother & Father: Sarah Bloom & David Hallinan
Relation to Me: Godsons

Special Move, Skills, Ability: Putting up with Charlie (Chance); driving everyone crazy (Charlie)

Notes:

This dynamic duo covers ground from Oakland to Humboldt County, and they really know how to make a guest feel welcome in the house. Every time they see me, they jump me like it's been two years... even when I am just coming back into the room after using the bathroom. It's just a good thing that their personalities are not switched, because if you put Charlie Bear's energy (and attitude) in Chance's body, we'd all be in trouble.

2. Dino

Breed: Yorkshire Terrier
Mother: Mara Reinhardt
Relation to me: Son

Special Move, Skills, Ability: Soccer, Hide N Seek

Notes:

Son, don’t tell your mother (or my family), but I miss you more than any human in the United States! Please behave yourself, and keep working on your “soccer stop” and dribbling skills. And DO NOT let Grandma dress you up for Halloween this year… you’re too old for that now.

Love, Papa Bear

1. Mia

Surprise everyone, I have a new daughter! If you have been wondering how this list has anything to do with my life here in Cape Verde… now you know!

Two Saturdays back I finally graduated from "Trainee" and was sworn in to become a Peace Corps Volunteer by the Deputy Chief of Mission and Chargé d'affaires for the U.S. Embassy in Cape Verde.

Click here to listen to the Oath

After hugs, tears, and goodbyes to our host families, language instructors and training managers, we headed to the capital city for a final night together before going our separate ways to our respective site assignments.

Later that night a nice-sized group gathered for an impromptu goodbye party at a bar near the beach. Early on during the night I noticed a boy following a little puppy around the bar’s outdoor patio, but I did not think much of it at first. A few times throughout the night the puppy wiggled under our tables or brushed past our legs—eventually it became clear the she was constantly trying to get away from the little boy who was pestering her out of boredom. I held my tongue, that is until the boy started throwing rocks at the puppy.

“Pa Modi?!” I eventually snapped at the boy, who couldn’t have been much more than 10 years old. “Why?!” Not surprisingly, the boy didn’t have an answer, so he shrugged and walked off, hopefully in search of some more wholesome entertainment.

For the second time that night the puppy fell off my radar screen, until I noticed her curled up in my friend's lap a few hours later. My first thought was, “is Gracie drunk?” I love me some puppies, but this dog was NAAAAAASTY, and borderline fugly in its cracked-out state. Granted, our Medical Officer had confirmed during training that rabies was not found in Cape Verde, but there’s a whole wide world of stray-dog pathology that goes beyond rabies.

After several friends informed Gracie that she was nucking futs, she brought the puppy over to me to “hold” while she ordered a drink. My response… “no dice.” I was NOT ready to take the plunge. After a mini-guilt trip, we compromised, and the puppy curled up next to me on my chair.

To make a long story medium, the puppy is now my daughter. Her name is Mia. It was "Junior" for a few days until, upon closer inspection, I confirmed that she is a "she." I’ll spare you the details of how Mia actually made it from that bar in the capital city to my apartment on the island São Vicente, about an hour’s plane ride away. I can proudly say that we made it to the vet last week, and Mia is going to be just fine. She's taking her meds, and she is looking less and less haggard everyday!

So here I am in my new place, bare walls, minimal furniture, and miniscule finances to change that situation. But with Mia in the equation, it’s feeling like a home already.

Pura Vida,

Drew

Physical Therapy

I remember being warned that Peace Corps service might be physically challenging. At some point, on some form, I checked off a bunch of boxes to verify that I could walk up flights of stairs without passing out, carry fifty pounds, and handle various other demanding tasks. I was naturally more concerned with preparing myself for the psychological and mental challenges of the experience. Now, having been here for two months, I can fully appreciate how closely related the physical and mental challenges actually are. This may seem obvious—in fact, I myself have always been a strong believer in the mind-body connection. Still, my biggest struggle so far has been to stay mentally fit in the midst of so many physical changes.

It’s not that any single part of my new environment has knocked me out—it’s just that almost nothing is the same. I could spend all day listing everything that is different, but that is not what this post is about. Instead I’ll just give you a snapshot the little and large changes that have affected my body: food, weather, daily schedule, medication, and much more. This post is really meant to share some tactics and experiences that have helped me cool off and avert a core meltdown.

Ever since the fall 1987, football has been my number one source of physical therapy. One of the hardest adjustments for me during the last two months has been not being able to play as much as I am used to. You might be scratching your head, thinking, “don’t they love football in Africa?” Yes, they do—unfortunately, my schedule during training only leaves time for me to play on the weekends. I’ve tried to make the most of that window, so every Sunday I make my way down the hill to the plaka in my neighborhood to get in a few games of pick-up bola. The games are 4 v 4 plus goalies (guarda-redi), on a basketball-sized asphalt court—somewhere halfway between the American indoor game and futsal. Over the last year or so I’ve been getting more serious about trying to retrain myself as a goalie, mostly because their careers last longer, but also because I’m starting to love it. Most of the time I start off between the posts, then hassle one of my teammates into switching with me.

Another bola-related activity that normally helps me blow off steam back home is my work as a professional cat-herder*. There is definitely a way for a coach to run a practice without breaking a sweat themselves—it’s just not my way. That being said, I was blessed to finally get a chance to run a clinic when I visited the town of Pedro Badejo in the conselho of Santa Cruz a few weeks back. Thanks to an introduction from a Peace Corps Volunteer, I was invited by the local coach to run a clinic. I was momentarily stuck when I showed up the next morning to find more than thirty kids and no ball. Fortunately, I was able to dig into my bag of tricks, which includes a whole bunch of fun “no-ball” activities designed to develop psycho-motor skills (shout out to Coach Peter at East Bay United Soccer Club!). We were also able to ranja** a ball from one of the Volunteers that was hosting me, so we kept the kriansas occupied for a good hour until their coach showed up with more balls. The session was fixi (pronounced "feeshee"), and the kids were kanpion, and when we wrapped up two hours later, I felt completely diskontra. All I could say was, “damn, I needed that!”

Before moving onto other means of physical therapy, it is only fair that I admit that my relationship with football is a double-edged sword. While playing and coaching helps me blow off steam, the stress associated with watching the game is probably shaving whole weeks off my lifespan. It was particularly bad for my mental state when the power went out in the middle of watching the Super Taza match between Barcelona and Porto. Fortunately, I knew who was going to win before the match started. I might have also done some damage while watching a slightly smaller “big game” in my neighborhood. Two Saturdays back, a team from the capital city, Praia, came to our neighborhood for a “friendly” match at the plaka. With a little luck the city-slickers in fancy uniforms managed to knock off our home side—our boys put up a good fight, but in my opinion we could have done better. I’m not saying that we would have won if I was playing... but that’s more or less what I’m insinuating. I guess part of sustainable development work is knowing when to let people fight their own battles.

Beyond bola, I have found a few more ways to stay active. The least fun example is the infamous bati ropa, otherwise known as doing your laundry by hand every Sunday morning. Good for the triceps, but not fun. At all. Also, I’m a little embarrassed to say that after two months of living in a country where virtually every family grows food, I’ve only pulled a few weeds.

My trip to Serra Malagueta Natural Park was good for the body and mind, and a lot more enjoyable than kicking the sh*t out of a pile a dirty clothes (no joke, doing laundry by hand, Africa-style, could easily be referred to as domestic violence... it’s that physical). I’m not a huge hiker, but I do enjoy granola and shopping at Whole Foods, and nothing could have been better for my psyche than climbing that mountain and checking out what the island of Santiago looks like from above.

This post on the psychological benefits of physical therapy is timely, as my fellow Trainees and I are wrapping up our respective community projects. One of the two projects I worked on was to help organize an exercise / aerobics class (faze trena) with the aim of encouraging healthy living. I would love to say that I had a great workout, but most of the heavy lifting I did involved holding my iPhone camera.

My last thoughts on the subject of physical therapy and mental health are not about exercise, they concern medicine. Those that know me well know that I am not a huge fan of the stuff. I tend to think that the cure for most common ailments consists of hot tea and sleep. Nevertheless, part of my responsibility as a Peace Corps Trainee is to stay healthy, and on the island of Santiago that means taking my malaria prophylaxis (sorry for the big word, but I’ve been trying to work that one into a sentence since I first heard “Bonita Applebum”). You might be asking how popping a Doxycycline pill every night at 9:00pm sharp could improve my mental health. Peace of mind in knowing that I won’t get malaria? Nope, that’s not it. Instead, I realized early on in the process that there was a certain grounding quality in establishing a new routine. After all, the changes in my old routine are what have challenged me “up top” in the first place. As I made my way through the first 10-pack of D-candy during my first week here, I started to feel like an inmate scratching tick marks into his cell wall as a means to keep track of time and stave off complete disorientation. I decided then and there to keep the empty packs and use them as my Official Calendar. Anyone who has had his or her daily routine turned upside down or inside out can appreciate how concepts like “Tuesday” or “today’s date” can lose all relevance or meaning to the actual patterns of life. Now, as I look down at five emptied packs, and a sixth pack containing only one more pill, I can honestly say that I am just one step away from finally becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. And tonight, that is the source of my peace of mind.

Pura Vida,

Drew

FOOTNOTES

*Youth Soccer Coach

**The Kriolu word “ranja” is startingly similar to the South African use of the word “organize.” Please see my previous post for an explanation.

An (Open) Letter to My First Language Teacher

Estimado Señor Vallar,

Hoy estaba en mi segunda clase de Kriolu, aqui en Cabo Verde, cuando mi amiga me llamó “Teacher’s Pet.” Sin pensar, respondí “Claro, siempre he sido como así en las clases de idioma." La verdad es que las clases de idioma siempre han sido mis favoritos, empezando con su clase. Su clase era la primera (y la ultima) vez que yo pedí tarea extra para el verano, porque reconocí que quería saber más sobre el tenso subjuntivo—para mí, no para una marca.

Mis amigos y colegas siempre dicen que yo tengo una habilidad natural y místico de aprender las idiomas. Ahora yo estoy aprendiendo mi quinta idioma (si no cuenta Ebonics). Aunque yo quisiera sentir ou ser especial, yo sé que tengo suerte. He tenido más que diez maestros y profesores de idioma en mi vida, y casi todos eran exelentes (lo siento, pero no puedo recordar algunos). Por eso, estaba pensando que debo decir “gracias” a Ustedes.

Quiero empezar con Usted porque Usted empezó tudo para mí (estoy hablando de las idiomas, Señor—recuerdes todo que te enseñé sobre Basketball, Hip Hop, etc?). Como maestro de jovenes también, yo creo que nuestro trabajo es encender la luz a dentro. Este luz no es la habilidad ou el talento. La lúz es la interés—el “querer ser” que inspira el trabajo duro y la energia para aprender. Yo encontré esa interés en su clase, y por eso digo “Gracias!”

Sincerely,

Andrew F. Williams

July 19, 2011

Cabo Verde

*This post is the text of a letter that I mailed home during my first week here in Cabo Verde. I wanted to wait until my first Spanish teacher actually received the letter and gave me permission before posting it, hence the one-month delay.

Pura Vida,

Drew