jenga.

I have always been a pretty easily amused person. I have a radio playing in my head, so when it seems like people are bored on a backpacking trip or long drive, I just start singing. I also know lots of games that can be played in all kinds of venues and that seem to entertain a variety of people, who can get bored when someone is doing a "veggie off?"

This ability to amuse has been useful here in Mozambique.

There are days when not a lot goes on. I have learned to always travel with a couple things to amuse myself with while I wait for meetings to start or for the chapa to leave. My purse is filled with half finished friendship bracelets, a deck of cards, folded up and ready to read magizine articles, and I never leave home without a book and a bottle of water. I could probably survive with what is in my purse for about a week before I got bored, and I probably will not even get hungry as I am usually carrying cashews and a pack of gum.

But this bag of entertainment is an extension of my American self. Mozambicans do not find the necessity to travel around with big bags full of stuff. Moms do not even carry diaper bags, which in the US I think you will be hard pressed to find a mom who does not travel with not just diapers and wipes, but rattles, games, blankets, and crayons. Mozambicans use spare time for small talk. You can strike up conversation with just about anyone, whether or not you know them. You can talk about how hot it is, how rainy it is, how the price of tomatoes went up again – just about anything.

I certainly believe I have learned the art of small talk, while here in Mozambique, but I still carry my Mary Poppins-esc bag of goodies.

And most of my Mozambican friends know about my bag. They know if they want to look at some great pictures of jungle frogs, I have a hoard of National Geographic cut outs in my planner. They know if their kids did well in school, I usually reward them with a whistle or a piece of candy.

They also know, if they meet me at my house, I have no end to new things to entertain them.

A few weeks ago, I invited a bunch of the moms from the nutrition rehab center over to have tea and a snack. I was really excited to host them because I have grown to love the little family in the rehab center. Though there is a revolving door of moms coming and going as their babies get better, the center has a special way of making all of the people there feel very much at home. The moms become an important support system to each other and I have been able to become a part of that support system. They were excited to see what a “mulungo” house looked like, and I was excited to play some games with them.

As we finished our popcorn and juice, I set up a Jenga set. The girls all just looked at me like I was crazy. But as they each got a turn to take a piece out of our tower, I watched them become mesmerized in the simple game so many of us know. When the tower finally fell, they laughed and then were so excited to play again.

I had them hooked.

From then on, when I wanted to get work done, I would bring Jenga along as a motivator. “If someone can tell me five foods that have Vitamin A we can play Jenga!” “Whoever can tell me the reason you should breastfeed babies under six months can set up the Jenga set!” “We can put up Jenga as soon as you all can explain why ARVs need to be taken with a balanced diet.”

It was a way to get the women to respond to my sometimes redundant, but important and sometimes difficult questions. It was a way to get everyone in the room, because no one would miss Jenga, but sometimes people “had headaches” or “needed to shower” when I just wanted to have an HIV discussion.

Was I bribing the moms?

Yes.

Did they mind?

No.

Did they learn about the things I was trying to teach?

Yes.

Did they get better at not knocking down the tower?

Verdict is still out, but I think they are.

Simple things like Jenga were my key to success at the nutrition center. Though the moms had a great support system for each other, I am a young, white, childless America. What can I possibly be able to teach these ladies about caring for their babies? Once they gave me a chance, I found out that there actually were a number of things I could work with them on.

We have started twice weekly trainings with the moms. Sometimes I bring a nutrition-related game. Sometimes I bring a set of questions that we discuss. Sometimes we make fortified cereals and talk about their ingredients. Always I bring a motivator. Jenga is a favorite, but sewing projects, bubbles, balloons, UNO, and crayons also seem to work.

I think if Mozambican moms walked around with the entertainment armory that American moms have, my little motivators might not have as much success. Lucky for me, Jenga is a little more exciting than the weather.

But don't get me wrong, I never start a session before I comment on the weather. Its just such an obvious way to start.

the lemonade principal.

I have now planned and facilitated two separate trainings on financial management and business skills. I am qualified to do these kinds of trainings? Not really. Do I fake it? So well.

At the first training, I thought I would start off with a personal story. Since I do not really have any business experience. I thought back to what I could use. My best example was a lemonade stand.

If you lived near 58th and Webster about fifteen years ago, you may have seen my lemonade stand. I like to think it was the best on the block. Caitlin and I always borrowed frozen Minute Maid lemonade from my freezer, mixed it with water and ice, and sat outside waiting for the dog walkers and babysitters to stop by and buy or icy cold, 25 cent drink (I do not think we ever paid back this loan but when I used the story as a learning example, we of course reimbursed my mom the two dollars for the initial investment). We had pretty good success. I even remember one guy stopped in his car and paid us ten bucks, and he only wanted one cup.

Anyway, we always ran into a bit of trouble when my Dad came home from work. With the information that I never paid back the initial investment, maybe his free cups of lemonade were justified, but I always felt like I was wasting good product on a non-paying customer.

This was a perfect example for the Mozambican students in my lessons. Mozambique is a very community-based society. You help your neighbors out. If I cannot afford to pay you for my onions, you might let me have them on credit. You usually will never see that credit repaid. But then you will go and buy tomatoes in the same way.

While this is a good system if you are bartering, if you are really trying to run a business and make profits, this is a losing system. In our sessions we talked about ways around this, and decided it was best, since it is almost unavoidable, to decide on a certain amount of product or service that can be given out for free each month. Once this amount is reached, you must start saying “no” to people who want something on “good faith.”

As we discussed what I now call the “lemonade principal” one of the students raised his hand. He said that he had never even considered the option of saying no to people, but now that he knows that is what he should do, he thinks he may start turning a profit. He explained that as a community leader (most of the students in the class are pastors or other church leaders), people often come to him and ask to borrow money or products and then at the end of the month he has very little to show for his work. He had never thought about how a business is different from a charity and that he must conduct his work in his business differently from his work in his church.

It was after this converstaion the I realized this group may need more than just financial management training, they may need professionalism lessons. Professionalism is something we learn in the states at a young age. We know how we should dress for a job interview and how to address collegues and the importance of networking.

So, with that in mind, my second training focused a lot on these skills. We talked about the importance of publicity, of timeliness, and about why a variety of products is necessary. During the seminar we had talked about how customer loyalty works. I am a perfect example for this, as I have clear and known favorites in the market whom I always patronize. These ladies know me and always give me a good deal. Even if I am not buying anything, they greet me by name and ask how I am doing.

Mama Mequilina, who runs a clothes selling business in the market explained that she appreciated me talking about being nice to customers because it had always bothered her when people would come to her stall and try on all kinds of things and then not buy anything. She said, honestly, that she was often very rude if someone did this because, justifiable so, it was so annoying to wait on someone so long to have them not buy anything. She had never thought about the possibility of them coming back to buy something later on.

I suppose that also fits within the lemonade principal. If I had been rude to my dad when he asked, and sometimes just took, free lemonade, he may not have referred the neighbors to my lemonade stand.

You never know when a customer is a potential regular, and you never know when someone might come back and hand you a ten dollar bill.

What is weird is that no one has yet opened a lemonade stand in town.

I made it pretty clear how delicious it is on a hot day.