I have been in Mezimbite now for one week.  My time here has so far been quite eventful.  After getting settled in to the “farm”, as Allan calls it, I have a much better understanding of what my life might be like during the next nine weeks. 

As I have already mentioned, I am living in a tent.  In my tent I have a sleeping bag and pillow, a few articles of clothing, a pile of books, my pocketknife, mosquito spray, and malaria medicine, scattered across the three square meter floor.  Right outside my tent there is a thatch-roofed pavilion that provides shelter for cooking, eating, conversing, playing and much else.  The pavilion is really the hearth of the farm.  With no walls, only a roof defines it as a place.  A roof is all that is needed to contain the aromas, conversations, and emotions that are present where people live.

The camp and farm cooperate in a sustainable environment.  Everything is intended to sustain itself.  The whole operation follows cycles and principles of nature.  In many cases, this simply means restraining from interference and allowing life to do what it does best - live.  Being in such an environment has already taught me a lot.  It seems silly because it seems simple. 

Right next to our camp, there is a group of duck houses.  Beneath each duck house is a small reservoir of water full of tilapia fish.  The ducks feed from the nearby plants and trees and sometimes from the food that falls beneath the dinner table.  The ducks swim in the ponds to keep cool.  Their waste feeds algae in the water, which then feeds the tilapia that we eat.

At dinner Allan tells stories.  Most of the time, Allan is the only one speaking, with the exception of occasional interruptions of agreement or exclamation.  The fact is, we do not have stories that could relate or even compare to those that we are hearing, and so we just listen.

Allan grew up in South Africa where his father was a politician.  He moved to America to pursue a doctorate in architecture at MIT and subsequently began teaching and practicing architecture.  After a number of years, he began focusing his attention on natural conservation projects which ultimately led him to Mozambique.  Along the way he has worked with a number of political figures, movie stars, star-chitects, and fashion models. 

When I leave the table to go to the bathroom, I think as I walk to a little box surrounded by canvas and curtains, “Why did he come here, an architect, to live in a tent?” When I return, I rinse my hands in a blue bucket in the light of a full yellow moon between the dark silhouettes of palm leaves.  Then I look up and understand. 

This week I began assisting Allan on preliminary design work for a pottery workshop in a hilly village of Mozambique named Sussundenga.  This project is very different than any of the work I have done academically or professionally.  Nearly everything we do is manual – all of the drawings have so far been hand drawn.  My initial work for the project has focused on structural details.  The structure will be completely made of wood; instead of nuts and bolts, wood pegs are used to strategically fasten timber joints in place.  The project is very practical, and is re-teaching me how to draw and think simply and pragmatically with limited resources.  During the next few weeks the design will continue to develop and construction will begin soon after.  The project is what in America would be considered “Design/Build”.  After the design process, we will then be constructing the building which will give me the chance to pound wooden pegs into the timber structural connections I am drawing.

This weekend I have been able to access the internet using Matthew’s internet connection.  I do not have internet access in Mezimbite.  My photo collection is accumulating and I hope to post some photographs soon.  I cannot do this at Matthew’s house because his internet connection is too slow, but I will as soon as I go to the city.