And just like that, I’ve got myself a Secondary Project.

It’s not intentional, but all throughout PST, there a fair amount of pressure builds on the shoulders of PCT’s in regards to starting secondary projects once you get to site.  Secondary projects are exactly what they sound like, they are projects you as a PCV can pursue in addition to your primary task (which in my case is teaching).  Even with all the great things visiting PCVs had to say about the various secondary projects they were involved in, some of the most popular being: REDES, JUNTOS, English Theater and Science Fair.  Science fair a little, but nothing else really ever caught my interest.  So I figured I’d wait until something did.

And then it did.  The idea itself was something that had been dormant in the back of my head, a lingering possibility if the need became apparent.  All it took was one random conversation a half-year into my service to elucidate an apparent need. 

I want to build a bridge.  No, not a metaphorical one, a real one.  I want to build a pedestrian bridge that villagers living in the bush can use to safely cross the river outside of town when the water level starts to rise during the rainy season and the crocodiles start to get hungry. 

A couple of days ago, I was talking with one of the local missionaries who lives in Montepuez, but works in some of the rural villages outside of town.  A casual conversation about his work soon turned into a discussion about the impoverished conditions present in the villages, the local dependency on the river, and the plush farmland that lines its banks.  My curiosity spawned a site-visit to Bandari, one of the villages outside of town that was dependent on the river.  In addition to examining the bear-by section of river as well as the current crossing, I also had the opportunity to talk with a number of the community members about the river’s role in their lives.  I was surprised to find just how much influence it had. 

Essentially, the river has a significant impact on most, if not all potential for economic development of the local economy and the personal growth of the people who form it.  The majority of locals living in the rural villages along the river are subsistence farmers with one or more machambas (personal farms) on either side of the river.  They use these plots to grow their food for the entire year, and when it’s possible, they use any extra land to grow cotton, the local cash crop. 

When the rainy season comes in November, the river starts to rise eventually reaching a point where it becomes impassable by foot between the months of December and March.  Swimming is avoided due to the presence of crocodiles and fast flowing water.  Those that can afford it can pay to take a small dugout canoe across, but the fee charged by the boat’s owner is extremely high (between 50 to 100 metacais, or $2-$3), forcing many of the farmers to abandon their plots for 4 months during the prime planting season.

Aside from dugout canoes, there is one other point along the river that can be crossed by using a road bridge. But, for the people living on the far side of the river in villages like Nchomekah and Kampiri, it can take between 3-4 hours to reach the city of Montepuez by foot, where they can access a semi-functional hospital, secondary schools, a diverse market and the main transportation hub.

So, that’s that, and now I’ve got myself a good ol’ fashioned secondary project.  I’ve got a long road ahead of me, but I’m hoping to ride this wave of motivation towards some serious progress.  More to report when it happens, that is, if it happens.