Sep 30, 2008
a rare treat
Bananas! were found at the market today. A very rare appearance here in Mutarara. A rare treat which I very much enjoyed this afternoon! Its the little things in life that are to get us so excited, right? :-)
Sep 27, 2008
Sep 25, 2008
soldiers' day
Today is a public holiday in Mozambique – Armed Forces Day – otherwise known as “soldiers day”. We took the opportunity of the office being closed to drive to the Malawi border to renew my soon to expire visa. It was a short trip, 45 kilometers through villages and dry bush land. The road was present, just washed out and very bumpy! I sat in the front cab of the land cruiser, center, between our driver and my assistant. It was a beautiful morning with the sun shining. The hot air blew through our cab windows as we honked for the goats in the road and waved at children as they shouted “mazungo”. Driving through the villages, we noted celebrations being held in honor of soldiers’ day. The entire community was gathered beneath a tall wide baobab tree; men, women and children circled around the tree in honor of the fallen soldiers who fought for their freedom from Portugal. As we passed by these gatherings, the people were silent, soldiers stood at attention, and leaders spoke. On our return back from the border, the ceremonies had ended and the celebrations had begun! Children were dancing in the street, families were eating together outside, and everyone had a smile on their face. It was a beautiful thing to see these communities come together and celebrate.To describe a little of the land out here…the farther we got away from Mutarara, the electric poles disappeared. The old railway was grown over with brush and plants. Mud huts turned into straw huts – which I wonder how they stay up in these terrific windstorms? We passed by a settlement camp where you could see the tarps WV gave out to cover rooftops of straw huts. Vegetation was scarce. The soil was very sandy. A mountain range guarded the west and the land bottomed out into dry sandy openness to the east. Goats were everywhere! Baobab trees were in plenty and scattered throughout the terrain. Villages were small with maybe 10 – 20 households. There was a community well with a large hand pump in each village. Women and children were gathered around, pumping and filling yellow jerry cans with water. We stopped on the roadside to buy onions and to our surprise…little bananas! I miss my fruit! Its hard to think I’m in Africa and we don’t even have bananas. They are a rare treat up here!
I did not return from the Malawi border with a renewed visa, as was the plan. The guy at the border said I still had four days left on my current visa, so I need to come back on the day it actually expires. I could not understand his reasoning of not being able to buy one today, but Monday I will make the trip once again. :-)
Sep 23, 2008
Sep 22, 2008
crocodiles & spaghetti
This morning during our weekly staff meeting, as we were all gathered together in the front office, there was a sudden burst of children screaming and men yelling outside. Followed was a stampede of the entire village running past our office and down the street shouting and sounding very upset. I had no idea what was going on as the whispers and shocked expressions were all said in Portuguese. Turns out, there was a crocodile found high up in the village, not too far from the office, but very far from the river, causing a lot of mischief as it was looking for some food! It was killed and the stampedes of people were dragging it down the street!!! Just a little Monday morning excitement in Mutarara!
I also found to my delight – spaghetti for lunch today! A welcome change to my beans and rice. Of course, I did compliment it with a nicely grilled piece of fish. :-)
It is freezing cold and overcast at the moment. An extreme change to our sandstorms and 100+ degree weather we’ve been having. I drank three cups of hot chocolate this morning to warm up!
I wish my eyes could take pictures for you all – it was truly a day for pictures. Driving down to the guest house for lunch I saw the cutest little girls, not older than 3 or 4 years old, wearing little kanga wraps around their waist and giggling as I past by - one was carrying a basket of seeds on her head. The local hospital grounds were bright and colorful with young mothers and their babies all wrapped in traditional cloths waiting to be weighed on a scale that hung from a tree. An elderly woman sat at the steps of the community well, her wrap hung loosely over her shoulders as she pulled it close to her to keep warm; her face was wrinkled from the sun and her eyes sparkled with interest. A man on his bicycle peddled by carrying two (live) chickens tied upside down by their feet on the handlebars and a passenger riding sideways on the back – the man himself adorned a shiny black cowboy hat with bright blue stars on it! He smiled as we passed; his grin was missing a few front teeth. It was a day for pictures. :-)
p.s. – I was safe inside the office when the crocodile was found. However, as you may imagine, when I heard what all the rioting was about my eyes got very big! I may now be scanning more of the ground with my torch as I walk home in the evenings!
I also found to my delight – spaghetti for lunch today! A welcome change to my beans and rice. Of course, I did compliment it with a nicely grilled piece of fish. :-)
It is freezing cold and overcast at the moment. An extreme change to our sandstorms and 100+ degree weather we’ve been having. I drank three cups of hot chocolate this morning to warm up!
I wish my eyes could take pictures for you all – it was truly a day for pictures. Driving down to the guest house for lunch I saw the cutest little girls, not older than 3 or 4 years old, wearing little kanga wraps around their waist and giggling as I past by - one was carrying a basket of seeds on her head. The local hospital grounds were bright and colorful with young mothers and their babies all wrapped in traditional cloths waiting to be weighed on a scale that hung from a tree. An elderly woman sat at the steps of the community well, her wrap hung loosely over her shoulders as she pulled it close to her to keep warm; her face was wrinkled from the sun and her eyes sparkled with interest. A man on his bicycle peddled by carrying two (live) chickens tied upside down by their feet on the handlebars and a passenger riding sideways on the back – the man himself adorned a shiny black cowboy hat with bright blue stars on it! He smiled as we passed; his grin was missing a few front teeth. It was a day for pictures. :-)
p.s. – I was safe inside the office when the crocodile was found. However, as you may imagine, when I heard what all the rioting was about my eyes got very big! I may now be scanning more of the ground with my torch as I walk home in the evenings!
Sep 21, 2008
HDI Rank 172
Mozambique has a HDI Rank of 172 out of 177.
The Human Development Index (HDI) is a summary of human development that is published by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The HDI measures the average achievements in a country by three points of human development:
1) A long and healthy life, as measured by life expectancy at birth
2) Knowledge, as measured by the adult literacy rate
3) A decent standard of living, as measured by GDP per capita
What this means for Mozambique is that it is ranked the fifth poorest country in the world by humanitarian standards. The United States has a HDI Rank of 12 out of 177 in the 2007/2008 report. A few facts and figures from the CIA World Factbook on Mozambique – with comparison to the United States:
*Population of Moz: 21,284,701 / 303,824,646 US
*Median Age in Moz: 17.4 / 36.7 US
*Infant Mortality Rate in Moz: 107.84 deaths per 1000 live births / 6.3 deaths per 1000 live births US
*Life Expectancy at Birth in Moz: 41.04 years / 78.13 years US
*HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in Moz: 12.2% / 0.6% US
*Literacy rate (age 15 and over can read & write) in Moz: 47.8% (male: 63.5% / female: 32.7%) / 99% US
*GDP per capita in Moz: $800 / $45,800 US
*Unemployment rate in Moz: 21% / 4.6% US
*Population living below poverty line in Moz: 70% (2001 est) / 12% US (2004 est)
The Human Development Index (HDI) is a summary of human development that is published by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The HDI measures the average achievements in a country by three points of human development:
1) A long and healthy life, as measured by life expectancy at birth
2) Knowledge, as measured by the adult literacy rate
3) A decent standard of living, as measured by GDP per capita
What this means for Mozambique is that it is ranked the fifth poorest country in the world by humanitarian standards. The United States has a HDI Rank of 12 out of 177 in the 2007/2008 report. A few facts and figures from the CIA World Factbook on Mozambique – with comparison to the United States:
*Population of Moz: 21,284,701 / 303,824,646 US
*Median Age in Moz: 17.4 / 36.7 US
*Infant Mortality Rate in Moz: 107.84 deaths per 1000 live births / 6.3 deaths per 1000 live births US
*Life Expectancy at Birth in Moz: 41.04 years / 78.13 years US
*HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in Moz: 12.2% / 0.6% US
*Literacy rate (age 15 and over can read & write) in Moz: 47.8% (male: 63.5% / female: 32.7%) / 99% US
*GDP per capita in Moz: $800 / $45,800 US
*Unemployment rate in Moz: 21% / 4.6% US
*Population living below poverty line in Moz: 70% (2001 est) / 12% US (2004 est)
Sep 20, 2008
the local doctor
I ran into the local doctor yesterday here in Mutarara. He arrived just three weeks ago – has been sent by one of the aid organizations. He was telling me how frustrated he is. The hospital here looks pretty from the outside. A new million dollar (rumor has it) building was constructed not too long ago; it sits atop the hill behind the original hospital building. It looks very nice on the outside, but is lacking all medical equipment inside needed to diagnose and treat patients. For example, he has no lab. All blood work needs to be sent to Tete, which is the nearest city and a strenuous 8-hour journey by 4x4. As a result, the lab tests are never guaranteed a time to arrive back in Mutarara. How can he treat his patients if he doesn’t know what is wrong with them by a simple blood test? His vehicles are also all broken at this time and he doesn’t have a proper mechanic or the parts to fix them. So he must find an alternative way to get the lab work to Tete. He also has no fuel. I had forgotten about the fuel – it has to be brought in from Tete as well. So if you run out while you are here, you are here to stay. He has no x-ray machine. No machines of any kind to test what may be ailing the patient. There is no running water. No air conditioning. Often there is no electricity, so it is hard to keep things sterile and preserved. The hospital beds are full of sick patients in need of care, the doctor wants desperately to care for them, but the reality here presents a very difficult challenge to do so.
Sep 14, 2008
Sep 13, 2008
hunger season
There is a time of the year in Africa, between the first and second harvests, where the food has run out. It is called “hunger season”. An entire season dedicated to hunger. As a person who has always lived with a luxury of having food aplenty, it is hard to understand that there could be a season for such a time as hunger. Months. Three to six months that happens every year. Some years, those months may multiply if a disaster strikes and the crops from the second season are destroyed. These are months in which you know are coming, but are unable to prepare for. Thousands of people go hungry during this season of hunger.
I am eating local food - rice and beans and once in a while we get steamed spinach and carrots, sometimes a fish from the river. The food here at the guesthouse is in plenty. It lacks in variety; but there has always been food left over. My belly is always full. I sometimes struggle with a guilt of feeling satisfied.
Food security is an ongoing issue all around the world. In the states, we often try to think of ways to conserve the amount of excess we eat or throw out. We debate with each other about what can be done to end this cycle of hunger. What would it mean if we ate less in one country – would the excess reach those who need it most? Or would it be lost in the politics and logistics of the transfer? Who would really benefit? Would these children in Africa, the ones who are malnourished and run aside me shouting “mazugo, mazungo” – would it reach them? Or would it turn into cash inside some big mans pocket? I hate the debate. We can debate all day. Our words do not feed the children. They do not change the reality. Someday, they might. Someday, if solutions are created and agreed upon and carried out, the children may benefit. Today they are hungry.
Here in Mutarara, the hunger season will start mid-October to November, at the same time the rains start. It will continue through the floods. Imagine going hungry and trying to deal with a disaster, saving your family and household assets, on an empty stomach. I don’t know how this is done. I also don’t know where I’ll find my appetite once the hunger is more visible. It is sad that all too often we don’t recognize the need if it is not staring us in the face or lifting a hand in request.
There is a season of hunger here in Africa. But there is hope. There are programs in place providing food aid and livelihood assistance to help prepare for this season; to feed those most vulnerable and without food. I wish I could say it is enough. I wish I could report back from the field that all the starving children are now fed and sleeping happily with full bellies. But I can't do that. I can encourage each of us to look for ways to help - whether by giving financially to an organization that provides relief and assistance or by working in ways to make changes within our own lives and share with others the reality of the world we live in; with hope that one day, a solution may be had to end the season of hunger.
I am eating local food - rice and beans and once in a while we get steamed spinach and carrots, sometimes a fish from the river. The food here at the guesthouse is in plenty. It lacks in variety; but there has always been food left over. My belly is always full. I sometimes struggle with a guilt of feeling satisfied.
Food security is an ongoing issue all around the world. In the states, we often try to think of ways to conserve the amount of excess we eat or throw out. We debate with each other about what can be done to end this cycle of hunger. What would it mean if we ate less in one country – would the excess reach those who need it most? Or would it be lost in the politics and logistics of the transfer? Who would really benefit? Would these children in Africa, the ones who are malnourished and run aside me shouting “mazugo, mazungo” – would it reach them? Or would it turn into cash inside some big mans pocket? I hate the debate. We can debate all day. Our words do not feed the children. They do not change the reality. Someday, they might. Someday, if solutions are created and agreed upon and carried out, the children may benefit. Today they are hungry.
Here in Mutarara, the hunger season will start mid-October to November, at the same time the rains start. It will continue through the floods. Imagine going hungry and trying to deal with a disaster, saving your family and household assets, on an empty stomach. I don’t know how this is done. I also don’t know where I’ll find my appetite once the hunger is more visible. It is sad that all too often we don’t recognize the need if it is not staring us in the face or lifting a hand in request.
There is a season of hunger here in Africa. But there is hope. There are programs in place providing food aid and livelihood assistance to help prepare for this season; to feed those most vulnerable and without food. I wish I could say it is enough. I wish I could report back from the field that all the starving children are now fed and sleeping happily with full bellies. But I can't do that. I can encourage each of us to look for ways to help - whether by giving financially to an organization that provides relief and assistance or by working in ways to make changes within our own lives and share with others the reality of the world we live in; with hope that one day, a solution may be had to end the season of hunger.
Sep 12, 2008
Sep 9, 2008
motivation
...is a tricky thing when one’s body temperature is high. I’m told there is no “normal” in Mutarara. Everything is to the extreme. Extreme hot. Extreme cold. Extreme wind. Extreme rain. Today it is HOT! And I’m finding it difficult to concentrate on anything. The air is dry and HOT. I awoke to the electricity off. As I approached the office, I was told to look up. The electric pole was on fire! And evidently had been for quite some time. Children gathered on the rocks nearby to watch, while men in orange suits and yellow hard hats stared up in perplexity of what to do next. This was all before 8am...it is now 5p and the new pole is still not up. I am thankful for colleagues who were able to connect a small generator for the office; but by the sound of it, we will be going home early. The sun is about to set. And I have a feeling it is going to be a dark and quiet night by torchlight. :-)
Sep 6, 2008
(17° 15' 7" south, 35° 15' 15" east)
The sun is out and it’s a beautiful Saturday morning in Mutarara. I arrived just this week and have been trying to find a way to describe to you all what it is like here. I have never been in a place such as this. I’m having a hard time writing.
So I will copy and paste some thoughts I sent to my brother upon my arrival. They may help in describing where I am…
“i now understand what people's faces meant when they heard where i was going. i've never been to a place like this before. i had this feeling as we were four-wheeling it through the bush to get here that this is going to change me. i don't know how. but it will. i really believe i have found "no where". there seems to be no other way to describe it. though i imagine there are many more of these places – you probably see them where you are. the town of mutarara sits up on a hill above the river. there's the longest bridge i have ever seen in my life running across it. i'm told the entire area is flooded when it rains. right now only a fraction of it has water - and its still a very wide river. i imagine monster crocodiles coming up the banks at night to eat the shadows of people wandering the town. :-) j/k! there are no people here!!! i'm told most of them live in resettlement camps further down the river. i have yet to see. i'm sure i will one of these days. there are no roads here. you think that's not possible, i thought it wasn't possible, but its true. just endless amounts of dirt and rock and washed out terrain. there are many buildings in this town, however they are all carved out and empty, burned from fire or falling down from age. no one lives in them. its like a ghost town. no electricity at night. kids come out and play in the streets in the dark. there is but one shop and restaurant. no running water. i haven't seen any roadside stands that sell food or drinks. it’s very odd – especially for africa. the only vehicles are from us and the other two ngos. the town seems to be void of women. as does my office. the men are all nice, but its an odd feeling being not only the single white expat, but also female. i feel a little out of place. the office is cozy. it is one big open room with desks in a u-shape. its only our programs that are running here- just emergency response. though at the moment there is no emergency. i have so much to learn. but i will have lots of time. i am told there is little to do except work.”
My first impressions of the village are slowly changing. It is peaceful here. Quiet. The village does sits on top of a hill. The view is beautiful! The Zambezi River flows beneath it. Wide. Deep. The bridge is called “Dona Anna”. It is the longest rail bridge in Africa. A total distance of 3.7 km. I’ll have to take a picture. :-) Men ride bicycles along the red uneven dirt as they pass our office during the day. Women walk with water jugs atop their heads. I receive smiles and greetings as I walk to the office in the morning. I am learning to appreciate Nescafe (powdered coffee) from a can. :-)
The staff in the office here are all very kind & a few of them even speak English! (an excitement for me as I've struggled with a lack of English speakers since I've arrived in Moz)
There is electricity in the office and in our rooms. There is no running water. My living quarters are said to be changing soon – so I’ll save those details for when they do. :-)
I am finally here. I am in Mutarara. I am living in a village. (I have to keep repeating it to myself to believe it ;-))
Today I am reminded that it is September. It is the beginning of autumn at home; my favorite time of year. I awoke this morning thinking of where I was last September. My housemates and I would be excited to go to the farmers market in Brattleboro to buy wildflower bouquets and drink delicious chai. I could not have imagined I’d be here now, one year later. I had no idea this place even existed. I wrote home at the beginning of this week and announced that I’d arrived in “no where”. I had found that place where no one goes and no one can find. I still feel like I’m “no where” – but I am somewhere. I will have to do some exploring to where I am. I need to be open to life in a village. I need to get past my desires of comfort as I know them and adjust. And I need to figure out how to do that without blocking out the rest of the world – so not to be dwelling on the things I do not have but know exist. (such as running water with hot showers on a cold evening!) I am struggling as to how I can adjust. I will, it’s just a struggle at the moment. I hate being woken in the middle of the night by rats chewing above my head. Thankfully the mosquito net creates a cozy euphoric state for my mind to pretend I am safe and sound and the critters cannot actually touch me. :-) I have a lot of learning to do. The unexpected journey continues.
So I will copy and paste some thoughts I sent to my brother upon my arrival. They may help in describing where I am…
“i now understand what people's faces meant when they heard where i was going. i've never been to a place like this before. i had this feeling as we were four-wheeling it through the bush to get here that this is going to change me. i don't know how. but it will. i really believe i have found "no where". there seems to be no other way to describe it. though i imagine there are many more of these places – you probably see them where you are. the town of mutarara sits up on a hill above the river. there's the longest bridge i have ever seen in my life running across it. i'm told the entire area is flooded when it rains. right now only a fraction of it has water - and its still a very wide river. i imagine monster crocodiles coming up the banks at night to eat the shadows of people wandering the town. :-) j/k! there are no people here!!! i'm told most of them live in resettlement camps further down the river. i have yet to see. i'm sure i will one of these days. there are no roads here. you think that's not possible, i thought it wasn't possible, but its true. just endless amounts of dirt and rock and washed out terrain. there are many buildings in this town, however they are all carved out and empty, burned from fire or falling down from age. no one lives in them. its like a ghost town. no electricity at night. kids come out and play in the streets in the dark. there is but one shop and restaurant. no running water. i haven't seen any roadside stands that sell food or drinks. it’s very odd – especially for africa. the only vehicles are from us and the other two ngos. the town seems to be void of women. as does my office. the men are all nice, but its an odd feeling being not only the single white expat, but also female. i feel a little out of place. the office is cozy. it is one big open room with desks in a u-shape. its only our programs that are running here- just emergency response. though at the moment there is no emergency. i have so much to learn. but i will have lots of time. i am told there is little to do except work.”
My first impressions of the village are slowly changing. It is peaceful here. Quiet. The village does sits on top of a hill. The view is beautiful! The Zambezi River flows beneath it. Wide. Deep. The bridge is called “Dona Anna”. It is the longest rail bridge in Africa. A total distance of 3.7 km. I’ll have to take a picture. :-) Men ride bicycles along the red uneven dirt as they pass our office during the day. Women walk with water jugs atop their heads. I receive smiles and greetings as I walk to the office in the morning. I am learning to appreciate Nescafe (powdered coffee) from a can. :-)
The staff in the office here are all very kind & a few of them even speak English! (an excitement for me as I've struggled with a lack of English speakers since I've arrived in Moz)
There is electricity in the office and in our rooms. There is no running water. My living quarters are said to be changing soon – so I’ll save those details for when they do. :-)
I am finally here. I am in Mutarara. I am living in a village. (I have to keep repeating it to myself to believe it ;-))
Today I am reminded that it is September. It is the beginning of autumn at home; my favorite time of year. I awoke this morning thinking of where I was last September. My housemates and I would be excited to go to the farmers market in Brattleboro to buy wildflower bouquets and drink delicious chai. I could not have imagined I’d be here now, one year later. I had no idea this place even existed. I wrote home at the beginning of this week and announced that I’d arrived in “no where”. I had found that place where no one goes and no one can find. I still feel like I’m “no where” – but I am somewhere. I will have to do some exploring to where I am. I need to be open to life in a village. I need to get past my desires of comfort as I know them and adjust. And I need to figure out how to do that without blocking out the rest of the world – so not to be dwelling on the things I do not have but know exist. (such as running water with hot showers on a cold evening!) I am struggling as to how I can adjust. I will, it’s just a struggle at the moment. I hate being woken in the middle of the night by rats chewing above my head. Thankfully the mosquito net creates a cozy euphoric state for my mind to pretend I am safe and sound and the critters cannot actually touch me. :-) I have a lot of learning to do. The unexpected journey continues.
Sep 2, 2008
butterflies
Have you ever watched a butterfly in the air? It doesn’t always look to have complete control of where it’s going. It flutters back and forth and eventually will choose a direction to fly away in. My friend Kate and I got butterflies in Thailand. They were to remind us of new beginnings. Beautiful beginnings. Butterflies often don’t start out as anything pretty to look at, but through the struggle as they grow and mature in the cocoon, and as they flutter against the wind, they eventually become something of beauty.
I awoke this morning with the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Excitement and nerves all wrapped into one. I opened the window shades to let the bright African sun poor in and hear the birds sing. I took a deep breath. I sometimes forget where I am. I need those small moments of calm to remind myself and not to be overwhelmed with the butterflies in my stomach. I am in Africa.
Today I start the journey up to my new home in a small village along the Zambezi River. It is a district called Mutarara, located in Tete Province in north-central Mozambique. I’ve never been before, but tomorrow I will call it home. Mutarara is difficult to find on a map as it’s off the main road and has nothing of tourist interest to spotlight. It is a resettlement area for thousands of refugees and internally displaced persons who have been forced to leave their homes due to things outside their control. Many have chosen to stay in spite of the reoccurring floods. The government has asked everyone to move to higher ground; however the task of moving thousands of people from their homes is quite difficult. They want to stay. They are fishermen and farmers, living their lives and raising their families the best way they know how. I am going to work on community projects that will in hope prepare communities for future floods by reducing their risk of loss and increasing their resilience to survive the floods. All very good in theory, but in practice could be a very big task! We don’t want to go in and change their livelihoods or tell them they must move; we have community groups in place to work with creating local options that are sustainable for the communities.
I am excited to see communities’ work together and our projects up and running. I am curious to see how the projects will play out. I am nervous to experience an emergency and provide response. And today, I am reminded of butterflies, new beginnings, and unexpected journeys. I will just have to enjoy the fluttering in my stomach and trust the new directions I take will bring me to something of beauty.
I awoke this morning with the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Excitement and nerves all wrapped into one. I opened the window shades to let the bright African sun poor in and hear the birds sing. I took a deep breath. I sometimes forget where I am. I need those small moments of calm to remind myself and not to be overwhelmed with the butterflies in my stomach. I am in Africa.
Today I start the journey up to my new home in a small village along the Zambezi River. It is a district called Mutarara, located in Tete Province in north-central Mozambique. I’ve never been before, but tomorrow I will call it home. Mutarara is difficult to find on a map as it’s off the main road and has nothing of tourist interest to spotlight. It is a resettlement area for thousands of refugees and internally displaced persons who have been forced to leave their homes due to things outside their control. Many have chosen to stay in spite of the reoccurring floods. The government has asked everyone to move to higher ground; however the task of moving thousands of people from their homes is quite difficult. They want to stay. They are fishermen and farmers, living their lives and raising their families the best way they know how. I am going to work on community projects that will in hope prepare communities for future floods by reducing their risk of loss and increasing their resilience to survive the floods. All very good in theory, but in practice could be a very big task! We don’t want to go in and change their livelihoods or tell them they must move; we have community groups in place to work with creating local options that are sustainable for the communities.
I am excited to see communities’ work together and our projects up and running. I am curious to see how the projects will play out. I am nervous to experience an emergency and provide response. And today, I am reminded of butterflies, new beginnings, and unexpected journeys. I will just have to enjoy the fluttering in my stomach and trust the new directions I take will bring me to something of beauty.
weekend in chidenguele
This past weekend I spent with some new friends at a lake house near the beach in Chidenguele, about 250 kilometers north of Xai Xai. We drove four hours north of Maputo on the one and only national highway that runs north-south through Mozambique. I loved seeing more of Africa again! Children ran alongside the roads, waving and laughing as we passed by. Women carried heavy loads of anything you can imagine – balanced in a bucket atop their heads. Big trucks full of timber logs with goats adorning the sides and top passed us at record speed. All the while, the landscaped changed several times as we drove through low lands with rice patties and sugar cane fields, beautiful wide rivers running into the sun, dry and barren open space with bushfires burning out of control, and lush palm tree jungles where you imagine creatures of all shapes and sizes are hiding inside.
The beach was absolutely beautiful! Clean, golden sands stretched along the coastline. Sand dunes lush in vegetation protected the beach and provided a barrier to the villages. We bought fresh fish from a local fisherman for dinner – they packaged it up and buried it in the sand to stay cool while we enjoyed the sunshine. It was my friend Leila’s birthday weekend – there were seven us staying the weekend to celebrate with her. We barbequed a big meal for dinner and sang birthday songs till she couldn’t turn a darker shade of red. :-) We also enjoyed homemade birthday cake!
Saturday night started the excitement of this African weekend. I was sleeping in a tent alongside the lake. The night was calm and warm as I fell asleep looking up at the stars that were shining so brightly. They were amazing! I awoke a few hours later to the sound of incredible winds, my tent had collapsed on top of me, and I was starting to roll inside the tent! The winds were so strong! I managed to unzip and get out of the tent just as my mind started to race of rolling into the lake where the crocodiles were sleeping. I then crawled into the tent next to me, which was smaller, lower to the ground and had another person in it. It was not going to blow away with two of us! In the morning, I found out a small cyclone had hit the coast nearby and we were receiving the wind! I am proud to say I survived my first cyclone (sort of), in a tent! :-)
Later that morning, after a lovely breakfast, we all climbed into the 4x4 to enjoy the beach a little more before returning to the city. Tree branches were down and the sand was thick and loose. I learned that to drive in that kind of sand, one must deflate the tires. And keep turning the wheel back and forth. :-) After returning from the beach and enjoying a delicious traditional Brazilian meal, we packed up the vehicles to head back home. However, one of the 4x4s needed a push start. (tis very hard to do in thick sand!) We constructed a road out of tree branches and gathered men from the village to help push the truck. Several heave hoes and one accident later, the truck was running and we were on our way!
It was an exciting weekend :-)
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