Sorry about being a little flakey with the blogging of late. Things have been a little hectic/busy here, including an awesome visit from Tony (Team Paramount reunited!!). To keep you occupied for a bit, a couple interesting NY Times articles from last week:
Cool concept...
An interesting perspective....
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Richard....
So I guess it's about time that I introduce our new roommate, being as she's been here for almost 4 weeks and we have ANOTHER new roommate coming in today, so I have to get her out the way before I can introduce this new guy. Way to make my life difficult Lorraine. Oh yeah, her name is Lorrie, not Richard.
To punish her for being such an inconvenience I am going to thoroughly embarrass her in tune with our boss. To begin with, we need a picture, right? And the only pictures of the lovely lady that I currently have access to are from Google images. Because, yes, you get 39,300 results in 0.53 seconds if you Google image my roommate Lorrie Fair. Baller. The first one that comes up:
And then another one of my favorites:
Yes, that's her celebrating winning the Women's World Cup in 1999. Booya. She also has a few Olympics under her belt with a couple gold medals and a silver. No big deal. Brush her shoulder off. So what is she doing being the roommate of little old me (and Tim) in South Africa? She works in sports and development and is managing a project with my organization building soccer fields that are going to be partnered with providing water, sanitation, and gardens, as well as starting youth soccer leagues. Pretty bad ass.
To top it off she is also one of the coolest, most laid back people I've ever met. Minus when we are working out together and she kicks my ass. With the best intentions of course. She is also a NorCal girl so you gotta love her. The three of us really haven't stopped laughing since she got here. You would think we had all been besties for life, no big deal.
And then we are swapping stories, like your best black out drunk story. Tim and I share, and we're all laughing, and then it's Lorrie's turn, and we are halfway through her story when "And then the next morning I had to be on Good Morning America..." Um, pardon? Who's drunk stories include Good Morning America?! Much less being on it?! Lorrie Fair, that's who. She pretty instantly made Tim and my list for our NGO dream team.
And if she wasn't enough good times herself, she acquired a new addition for our household a week ago:
Meet Ukuthula (Thula for short), which means "peace" in Zulu. I call her Runty or Nunu, obviously. Half lab (yellow lab, strangely) and half Rhodesian Ridgeback. Probably the most adorable thing ever. A couple more cute puppy pictures for your enjoyment:
Ooooooh! Sooooo cute!
So basically we've been having a whole lot of fun here in Mtuba! Welcome Looooorrrrrriiiiiiieeeee! And Thulula!
And the new roommate coming today? Her boyfriend Jason who's going to be helping her on her project. Another West coaster, so must be cool. (Poor Connecticut boy Tim will be thoroughly outnumbered. At least it will balance the gender gap for him.) Can't wait to meet him! Pre-emptive welcome to Jason!
Oh, and I will explain Richard later. Promise.
To punish her for being such an inconvenience I am going to thoroughly embarrass her in tune with our boss. To begin with, we need a picture, right? And the only pictures of the lovely lady that I currently have access to are from Google images. Because, yes, you get 39,300 results in 0.53 seconds if you Google image my roommate Lorrie Fair. Baller. The first one that comes up:
 | |
| So adorable! How can you not love this face! |
To top it off she is also one of the coolest, most laid back people I've ever met. Minus when we are working out together and she kicks my ass. With the best intentions of course. She is also a NorCal girl so you gotta love her. The three of us really haven't stopped laughing since she got here. You would think we had all been besties for life, no big deal.
And then we are swapping stories, like your best black out drunk story. Tim and I share, and we're all laughing, and then it's Lorrie's turn, and we are halfway through her story when "And then the next morning I had to be on Good Morning America..." Um, pardon? Who's drunk stories include Good Morning America?! Much less being on it?! Lorrie Fair, that's who. She pretty instantly made Tim and my list for our NGO dream team.
And if she wasn't enough good times herself, she acquired a new addition for our household a week ago:
So basically we've been having a whole lot of fun here in Mtuba! Welcome Looooorrrrrriiiiiiieeeee! And Thulula!
And the new roommate coming today? Her boyfriend Jason who's going to be helping her on her project. Another West coaster, so must be cool. (Poor Connecticut boy Tim will be thoroughly outnumbered. At least it will balance the gender gap for him.) Can't wait to meet him! Pre-emptive welcome to Jason!
Oh, and I will explain Richard later. Promise.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
You know you live in Africa when... V
You know you live in Africa when....
.... your field work comes to a screeching halt because the learners are seeing demons. And they are telling them to kill themselves because the devil is hungry for their blood. Awesome. I heart Africa. :)
.... your field work comes to a screeching halt because the learners are seeing demons. And they are telling them to kill themselves because the devil is hungry for their blood. Awesome. I heart Africa. :)
Monday, February 7, 2011
To to the Fo
Part five: To to the Fo, Tofo
And we're off! Again! The taxi ride started out well enough. We hitchhiked with a nice local guy to the taxi rank who negotiated a fair taxi fare for us to get to our next destination. The taxi ride started out uneventful enough, and then, as we got closer, the classic Moz (slash a lot of Africa) phenomenon occurred where they cram as many people as they can into the taxi. We probably had upwards of 22 people in a taxi that is maybe supposed to hold 12. Awesome. And I'm all fine and dandy with this. Trust me, this is the norm. But, what made this ride especially eventful was the chickens. Cause it's not just people they try and cram in there, it's cargo too, including live chickens.
I got up close and personal with a nice and mangy chicken. It's owner was given the oh so comfortable spot of stooping over my sitting self, supporting himself with one hand, and holding his sickly chicken by the feet in the other. For all those that are unfamiliar with chickens, when you pick them up by their feet and hold them upside down they more or less play dead. Except they're not. Cause they still blink and flap their wings and freak out every once and awhile aka doing creepy shit. And my ultimate fear, peck. Okay, it's true, I have never witnessed a chicken pecking at a person, but doesn't mean it doesn't happen. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my leg. And of course, this is the day that it's so hot that I wear a dress on the taxi when I normally wear jeans to be prepared for exactly these types of situations. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg. And of course my leg is not normal or intact, but has lots of tiny open wounds from the mosquito attack I endured in Vilinculos and subsequent itching. Fan-fucking-tastic. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg riddled with open wounds. I am thoroughly convinced I am going to pick up a chicken disease of some sort.
Eventually I was gratefully shuffled to a new seat in the next row back. I thought I was free of the gnarly chickens, but oh no, life is never that simple. Now I have live chickens roosting at my feet. Well theoretically they are under my seat, but these chickens are getting all up in each other's space, and pecking each other (see! valid fear! pecking each other is not far from pecking me! mother fuckers...), which then causes them to squawk and flap and scare the living shit out of me. Oh yeah, and rub up all on my bare, open-wounded ankles. Chicken disease x 2. Awesome. So here I am, sitting patiently, quietly, just waiting for these chickens to freak the fuck out. Because in between freak outs, they stay perfectly still and quiet. And then all of sudden SQUAWK! and wings beating at my feet. The anticipation definitely made the whole situation more nerve racking and my reactions way over the top. And I swear to god chickens can smell fear. There was nothing to do but put up my feet on the seat in front of me and laugh hysterically. At least that way all the other people in the taxi were laughing with me and not just at me. Every once in awhile, a nice older baba man helped herd the chickens back into their place when they had totally invaded my personal space. The guy next to me asked me if I was afraid of chickens to which I could only answer "Yes" because I don't think he knew enough English to understand "Listen, I'm not afraid of much, but being enclosed in small spaces with animals who do not want to be in that space with me is one of my fears. At the end of the day, instincts are going to win out and god knows what that means for me". Eventually the chickens disembarked and soon enough we arrived at our destination. Well our layover per se. Next mode of transportation: ferry. Hotness. Gotta love the boats. And then another taxi onto the final destination of Tofo, aka paradise:
I pretty instantly fell in love with Tofo. I have been to some pretty amazing beaches all over the world, from the South Pacific to Europe to the Caribbean (I know, I sound like a spoiled brat), and this was one of the most amazing beaches I have ever been at. Perfect water temperature, perfect waves, just awesome. I could of stayed there forever, and I almost did.
Our first day in Tofu we did some snorkeling to try and see whale sharks (unsuccessful. boo!) and another dive. This was the girls first dive post-cert so it was pretty exciting. Luckily, the conditions were definitely a little better than in Vil. Still tough currents and choppy, but viz was much better. Made it a little more relaxed. It didn't hurt that all our dive masters thought us four girls were the most hysterical things they had ever seen. Our head dive master reminded me so much of the guy who certed me in Belize that we had an instant bond and I felt like I knew him forever, unclear if he felt quite the same way.... And then the other two guys just completed the triad: Lobo, who I insisted on calling El Lobo and growling (woo! nitrogen sickness!) and then a Daniel Radcliffe/Elijah Wood look-alike (this is still a hotly debated topic between Claire and I). I was supposed to go on one more dive but was exhausted and clearly going a little loopy from all the underwater time so decided to opt out and relax and enjoy Christmas.
We spent the rest of our time at Tofo enjoying all it had to offer, good food, good drink, good people and good partying. Including a chance to reunite with our amazing Mozambique hosts from our travels up North!
Gotta love Christmas in a tropical summer paradise. Go Africa.
We did have another adventurous taxi ride. I had been trying to cheer up Claire for a couple days about Christmas, cause she was away from her home and family and traditions. Of course token Jew over here was just fine. Anyway, I kept reminding her how awesome and lucky we were to be spending Christmas in a tropical paradise on the beach. I mean, what could be better?! Claire, being the good sport she is, smiled and nodded and thanked me for my words of wisdom. And then on Christmas Eve we ended up on a taxi ride of death. We weren't even supposed to be on this taxi. But, of course the closest ATM was not working and we had to go another town over to get cash, which none of us were too happy about. I mean, who wants to be spending their Christmas Eve in taxis in sweltering heat trying to find an ATM? And then we unsuspectingly ended up in this death trap. Awesome. Claire and I couldn't help but laugh as we watched our lives flash before our eyes as the driver was going at least 160 kph (do the conversion... I dare you...) without slowing down for turns, passing like a mad man, and using the shoulder like it was his own personal lane. Basically, driving like a banshee. You know it's bad when even the locals are acting concerned. I have realized that I laugh in near death experiences. Pretty sweet defense mechanism if I say so myself. Mature or immature? Unclear. But, definitely entertaining. Anyway, I looked at Claire, and was like "See. This is Africa teaching us a lesson. We were getting all amped on spending our Christmas holidays enjoying ourselves in the sun and surf in this tropical paradise. But, oh no. She is teaching us we should be grateful to just be alive. That is, if we make it out of this. It's the little things in life Claire, the little things. Africa. You cruel mistress. AWA - Africa wins again." There was this adorable little infant sitting next to us and so Claire and I started praying to God, "Please God, please get us there safely, if not for our sake then to save this poor, little innocent baby. Amen." I guess she heard us because we made it to the other end safe and alive. Christmas miracle my friends. Even for the Jew. Thank you God.
I met some awesome people in Tofo, but my favorites had to be these Peace Corps volunteers from Namibia who were at the end of their service so were totally my style with an almost jaded realistic perspective on Africa and aid/development work. We got along like peas in a pod. Didn't hurt that they were all West coasters, one had links to DC, another was a reproductive rights fanatic like myself, and the other spent some solid years in the SC and insisted on calling me Westside. A nice little taste of home. Good times for sure.
And so we come to the end of the time in Mozambique. Sad. So sad that I actually opted to stay an extra day at the beach with my new friends.
I then had an early morning eight hour bus ride back to Maputo. We got in in the early afternoon so I couldn't resist the temptation to return to the amazing fabric store and indulge myself. So beautiful and a perfect way to end an amazing trip in an amazing country, taking a little piece of it home with me.
The next morning I was on a bus at 6 am back to big, bad South Africa. But, oh, the adventure doesn't end here...
And we're off! Again! The taxi ride started out well enough. We hitchhiked with a nice local guy to the taxi rank who negotiated a fair taxi fare for us to get to our next destination. The taxi ride started out uneventful enough, and then, as we got closer, the classic Moz (slash a lot of Africa) phenomenon occurred where they cram as many people as they can into the taxi. We probably had upwards of 22 people in a taxi that is maybe supposed to hold 12. Awesome. And I'm all fine and dandy with this. Trust me, this is the norm. But, what made this ride especially eventful was the chickens. Cause it's not just people they try and cram in there, it's cargo too, including live chickens.
I got up close and personal with a nice and mangy chicken. It's owner was given the oh so comfortable spot of stooping over my sitting self, supporting himself with one hand, and holding his sickly chicken by the feet in the other. For all those that are unfamiliar with chickens, when you pick them up by their feet and hold them upside down they more or less play dead. Except they're not. Cause they still blink and flap their wings and freak out every once and awhile aka doing creepy shit. And my ultimate fear, peck. Okay, it's true, I have never witnessed a chicken pecking at a person, but doesn't mean it doesn't happen. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my leg. And of course, this is the day that it's so hot that I wear a dress on the taxi when I normally wear jeans to be prepared for exactly these types of situations. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg. And of course my leg is not normal or intact, but has lots of tiny open wounds from the mosquito attack I endured in Vilinculos and subsequent itching. Fan-fucking-tastic. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg riddled with open wounds. I am thoroughly convinced I am going to pick up a chicken disease of some sort.
Eventually I was gratefully shuffled to a new seat in the next row back. I thought I was free of the gnarly chickens, but oh no, life is never that simple. Now I have live chickens roosting at my feet. Well theoretically they are under my seat, but these chickens are getting all up in each other's space, and pecking each other (see! valid fear! pecking each other is not far from pecking me! mother fuckers...), which then causes them to squawk and flap and scare the living shit out of me. Oh yeah, and rub up all on my bare, open-wounded ankles. Chicken disease x 2. Awesome. So here I am, sitting patiently, quietly, just waiting for these chickens to freak the fuck out. Because in between freak outs, they stay perfectly still and quiet. And then all of sudden SQUAWK! and wings beating at my feet. The anticipation definitely made the whole situation more nerve racking and my reactions way over the top. And I swear to god chickens can smell fear. There was nothing to do but put up my feet on the seat in front of me and laugh hysterically. At least that way all the other people in the taxi were laughing with me and not just at me. Every once in awhile, a nice older baba man helped herd the chickens back into their place when they had totally invaded my personal space. The guy next to me asked me if I was afraid of chickens to which I could only answer "Yes" because I don't think he knew enough English to understand "Listen, I'm not afraid of much, but being enclosed in small spaces with animals who do not want to be in that space with me is one of my fears. At the end of the day, instincts are going to win out and god knows what that means for me". Eventually the chickens disembarked and soon enough we arrived at our destination. Well our layover per se. Next mode of transportation: ferry. Hotness. Gotta love the boats. And then another taxi onto the final destination of Tofo, aka paradise:
 |
| View from the lounge chairs at our hostel... be jealous, very jealous. |
I pretty instantly fell in love with Tofo. I have been to some pretty amazing beaches all over the world, from the South Pacific to Europe to the Caribbean (I know, I sound like a spoiled brat), and this was one of the most amazing beaches I have ever been at. Perfect water temperature, perfect waves, just awesome. I could of stayed there forever, and I almost did.
Our first day in Tofu we did some snorkeling to try and see whale sharks (unsuccessful. boo!) and another dive. This was the girls first dive post-cert so it was pretty exciting. Luckily, the conditions were definitely a little better than in Vil. Still tough currents and choppy, but viz was much better. Made it a little more relaxed. It didn't hurt that all our dive masters thought us four girls were the most hysterical things they had ever seen. Our head dive master reminded me so much of the guy who certed me in Belize that we had an instant bond and I felt like I knew him forever, unclear if he felt quite the same way.... And then the other two guys just completed the triad: Lobo, who I insisted on calling El Lobo and growling (woo! nitrogen sickness!) and then a Daniel Radcliffe/Elijah Wood look-alike (this is still a hotly debated topic between Claire and I). I was supposed to go on one more dive but was exhausted and clearly going a little loopy from all the underwater time so decided to opt out and relax and enjoy Christmas.
 |
| Me passed out post-snorkel, pre-dive. See why I almost stayed here forever?! |
We spent the rest of our time at Tofo enjoying all it had to offer, good food, good drink, good people and good partying. Including a chance to reunite with our amazing Mozambique hosts from our travels up North!
Gotta love Christmas in a tropical summer paradise. Go Africa.
We did have another adventurous taxi ride. I had been trying to cheer up Claire for a couple days about Christmas, cause she was away from her home and family and traditions. Of course token Jew over here was just fine. Anyway, I kept reminding her how awesome and lucky we were to be spending Christmas in a tropical paradise on the beach. I mean, what could be better?! Claire, being the good sport she is, smiled and nodded and thanked me for my words of wisdom. And then on Christmas Eve we ended up on a taxi ride of death. We weren't even supposed to be on this taxi. But, of course the closest ATM was not working and we had to go another town over to get cash, which none of us were too happy about. I mean, who wants to be spending their Christmas Eve in taxis in sweltering heat trying to find an ATM? And then we unsuspectingly ended up in this death trap. Awesome. Claire and I couldn't help but laugh as we watched our lives flash before our eyes as the driver was going at least 160 kph (do the conversion... I dare you...) without slowing down for turns, passing like a mad man, and using the shoulder like it was his own personal lane. Basically, driving like a banshee. You know it's bad when even the locals are acting concerned. I have realized that I laugh in near death experiences. Pretty sweet defense mechanism if I say so myself. Mature or immature? Unclear. But, definitely entertaining. Anyway, I looked at Claire, and was like "See. This is Africa teaching us a lesson. We were getting all amped on spending our Christmas holidays enjoying ourselves in the sun and surf in this tropical paradise. But, oh no. She is teaching us we should be grateful to just be alive. That is, if we make it out of this. It's the little things in life Claire, the little things. Africa. You cruel mistress. AWA - Africa wins again." There was this adorable little infant sitting next to us and so Claire and I started praying to God, "Please God, please get us there safely, if not for our sake then to save this poor, little innocent baby. Amen." I guess she heard us because we made it to the other end safe and alive. Christmas miracle my friends. Even for the Jew. Thank you God.
I met some awesome people in Tofo, but my favorites had to be these Peace Corps volunteers from Namibia who were at the end of their service so were totally my style with an almost jaded realistic perspective on Africa and aid/development work. We got along like peas in a pod. Didn't hurt that they were all West coasters, one had links to DC, another was a reproductive rights fanatic like myself, and the other spent some solid years in the SC and insisted on calling me Westside. A nice little taste of home. Good times for sure.
And so we come to the end of the time in Mozambique. Sad. So sad that I actually opted to stay an extra day at the beach with my new friends.
 |
| This is Namibia + San Diego surfer bum + goth Afrikaaner who calls himself Havoc (actually a huge teddy bear if you can believe it or not) |
I then had an early morning eight hour bus ride back to Maputo. We got in in the early afternoon so I couldn't resist the temptation to return to the amazing fabric store and indulge myself. So beautiful and a perfect way to end an amazing trip in an amazing country, taking a little piece of it home with me.
The next morning I was on a bus at 6 am back to big, bad South Africa. But, oh, the adventure doesn't end here...
Friday, February 4, 2011
Vilanculos aka Vil
Part 4: Finally, the beach!
After not too bad of a bus ride we made it to Vilanculos and the beach. Woot woot!
Though we had seen and experienced a lot over our almost five days of travel, it really felt like our vacation had started when we arrived in Vil. It didn't hurt that the check-in desk for our hostel was also the bar. Sweetness. This ended up to be the trend with the rest of the hostels we stayed at. I like.
The main activity during our stay in Vil was to get the girls scuba certified.
I realize I haven't formally introduced my travel partners. There's Claire, who I have talked about plenty in my past posts, and two of her friends from Peace Corps, Peach and Jill, who are posted in the north of the country near Nelspruit. Both are West coast girls, so you gotta love them. Together they kept me thoroughly entertained throughout our adventures.
The sweet side of the scuba certification deal for me was that they were getting certified at a fancy pants resort and they let me just chill out and use their private beach and pool and take advantage of their bar. Hells to the yeah. Vacation here I come. I have to say the girls were slightly jealous.
I met some very friendly Zimbabweans who I ended up hanging out with for the next couple of days. They were semi-locals. Transplants who worked there part time and spent much of their holidays there. Things to know about Zimbabweans:
1) They are incredibly hospitable people, even beyond their own country. Basically, they are hospitable about Africa in general. They want everyone to have the same love and passion for it as they do.
2) They drink. Man, can they drink. Day and night. And they want you to drink with them. Just fun and friendly people. Always a good time.
So my couple days involved a lot of day drinking, shooting the shit, learning about cricket, eating, and shit talking. It was marvelous. These are my type of people. Oh and we saw a double rainbow.
I got pretty excited about it, and I'm not really sure it translated to the Zimbabweans. I'm not sure the double rainbow video and autotune remix have made it over here. Though by this point, they were already thoroughly accustomed to and entertained by my quirkiness and so I think they just cracked it up to that.
Our third and last day in Vil, the girls were doing their open water certification dives and I got to come along and do some diving myself. Woo! Apparently though we did not pick the best day. It was some of the toughest diving conditions I have experienced, crazy currents and bad visibility. It was definitely a workout. I felt bad for the girls who had to do their skills out there in that. You could definitely see the potential of the diving there. Definitely a reason to go back. And we did get to hang out on a ridiculously beautiful deserted island for our lunch break between dives. Also something I would do more of if I went back.
That evening we celebrated their certification with some drinks and dessert with some of my Zim friends and then rested up for more travel and more beach :)
After not too bad of a bus ride we made it to Vilanculos and the beach. Woot woot!
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| Yeah, be jealous... |
Though we had seen and experienced a lot over our almost five days of travel, it really felt like our vacation had started when we arrived in Vil. It didn't hurt that the check-in desk for our hostel was also the bar. Sweetness. This ended up to be the trend with the rest of the hostels we stayed at. I like.
The main activity during our stay in Vil was to get the girls scuba certified.
 |
| Ballin'!!!! aka Pool Skillz |
I realize I haven't formally introduced my travel partners. There's Claire, who I have talked about plenty in my past posts, and two of her friends from Peace Corps, Peach and Jill, who are posted in the north of the country near Nelspruit. Both are West coast girls, so you gotta love them. Together they kept me thoroughly entertained throughout our adventures.
The sweet side of the scuba certification deal for me was that they were getting certified at a fancy pants resort and they let me just chill out and use their private beach and pool and take advantage of their bar. Hells to the yeah. Vacation here I come. I have to say the girls were slightly jealous.
I met some very friendly Zimbabweans who I ended up hanging out with for the next couple of days. They were semi-locals. Transplants who worked there part time and spent much of their holidays there. Things to know about Zimbabweans:
1) They are incredibly hospitable people, even beyond their own country. Basically, they are hospitable about Africa in general. They want everyone to have the same love and passion for it as they do.
2) They drink. Man, can they drink. Day and night. And they want you to drink with them. Just fun and friendly people. Always a good time.
So my couple days involved a lot of day drinking, shooting the shit, learning about cricket, eating, and shit talking. It was marvelous. These are my type of people. Oh and we saw a double rainbow.
 |
| The storm before the rainbows |
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| Yes, I went a little crazy with the double rainbow photos. I was really excited and a little drunk. |
I got pretty excited about it, and I'm not really sure it translated to the Zimbabweans. I'm not sure the double rainbow video and autotune remix have made it over here. Though by this point, they were already thoroughly accustomed to and entertained by my quirkiness and so I think they just cracked it up to that.
 |
| A couple of my Zim friends. Opting to focus on their phones instead of my insanity during my rapture with the double rainbow. |
Our third and last day in Vil, the girls were doing their open water certification dives and I got to come along and do some diving myself. Woo! Apparently though we did not pick the best day. It was some of the toughest diving conditions I have experienced, crazy currents and bad visibility. It was definitely a workout. I felt bad for the girls who had to do their skills out there in that. You could definitely see the potential of the diving there. Definitely a reason to go back. And we did get to hang out on a ridiculously beautiful deserted island for our lunch break between dives. Also something I would do more of if I went back.
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| Pre-dive |
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| Another reason to be jealous... |
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| Passed out mid-dives |
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| Post-dive nitrogen sickness |
Thursday, February 3, 2011
To the North!
Part 3: Moving on up.
So on a bus. At 4 AM. But, this isn't just any bus. This is us crammed at the very front, five people across, so much shit at our feet that we can't move, and backpacks on our laps. For eight hours. At least. We were just asking for a DVT. Probably the worst bus ride of my life. But, all things were made better when we bought coconuts straight off the bus when we arrived, drank the water and ate the meat on the spot. Best hydrater/sustenance ever. And for like 5 metacals, like about 15 cents or so. Awesome.
We then had to take a series of a couple more taxis, one pretty traditional, the other the back of a pick up truck, to get to our final destination for the evening, Claire's friend, Donna's, place. She was so kind to welcome us all into the small house she shares with her fiance, Louis. They met at the beginning of their service and are now living together and engaged. I have to say, after seeing their digs, I think it wouldn't be that hard to fall in love.
So beautiful and quaint, with everything at their fingertips.
So, we made a couple purchases in town for the evenings festivities. We got some Tipo, the local rum, so smooth going down but definitely packs a punch (I had more than a few run ins with Tipo on this trip), and this coconut "wine" aka fermented coconut water.
They also had their local friend and her niece come by to make matapa, the traditional staple, in the traditional way. She even let us help!
Matapa is made from the cassava plant that grows everywhere there, dry or wet, hot or cold, all year round, which is what makes it a good staple. The cassava is combined with crushed peanuts and coconut and some garlic and onion and cooked down to almost a stew consistency that is put over rice. And tastes pretty darn good. I have to say a healthier staple then the pap of South Africa. We enjoyed our dinner with an amazing sunset.
Also, apparently coconut is an invasive species in Moz, as it is in South Africa, but while we just sit around waiting for the coconuts to drop on our heads, they have incorporated it into their diet and culture. Way to go Mozambique.
They get up the trees by using a machete and creating these footholds that they then use to shimmy up the trunk. Of course after chucking rocks at the top to get the bats out. Holler.
The next day, we had a lovely breakfast and then went exploring around their village. Saw the school where Louis teaches.
Also stopped by the local water source. It was actually a pretty exciting public health moment. They have a running water source in the form of geysers (cold, not hot) that are constantly supplying fresh water. They partition this area off for collection of water, and the next area over is designated for laundry. This keeps the cleanest water for drinking, separate from cleaning and bathing. Awesome.
We then stopped by the local dam that sadly is not functioning, but used to supply the whole village with electricity. A good example of where there is need/services are lacking. A dam will be built, but then when the dam breaks, there is nobody to fix it, there is no support system in place to take care of and manage the dam, making a very good idea not sustainable. We need engineers. Engineers to fix the current problems and to teach locals how to fix future problems. Just a thought.
We then gathered up our stuff and took a taxi (aka standing up in the back of a pick up) to a neighboring town to get a taxi to our next destination... Vilanculos and the beach. What what.
So on a bus. At 4 AM. But, this isn't just any bus. This is us crammed at the very front, five people across, so much shit at our feet that we can't move, and backpacks on our laps. For eight hours. At least. We were just asking for a DVT. Probably the worst bus ride of my life. But, all things were made better when we bought coconuts straight off the bus when we arrived, drank the water and ate the meat on the spot. Best hydrater/sustenance ever. And for like 5 metacals, like about 15 cents or so. Awesome.
We then had to take a series of a couple more taxis, one pretty traditional, the other the back of a pick up truck, to get to our final destination for the evening, Claire's friend, Donna's, place. She was so kind to welcome us all into the small house she shares with her fiance, Louis. They met at the beginning of their service and are now living together and engaged. I have to say, after seeing their digs, I think it wouldn't be that hard to fall in love.
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| Their own mango tree in their backyard |
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| Amazing mangoes from their amazing mango tree |
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| Their personal water tap |
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| Their toilet |
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| Outdoor "shower" aka lovely spot to take your bucket bath - I had an amazing bucket bath at dusk there lighted with an oil lamp. So lovely. |
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| "Shower" |
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| Their kitchen |
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| Their puppy, Mulungu - aka white |
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| Their kitten, Negra - aka black |
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| Their amazing garden |
So beautiful and quaint, with everything at their fingertips.
So, we made a couple purchases in town for the evenings festivities. We got some Tipo, the local rum, so smooth going down but definitely packs a punch (I had more than a few run ins with Tipo on this trip), and this coconut "wine" aka fermented coconut water.
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| 28 is the cost -> 28 Meticals = 90 cents? Hotness. |
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| Donna and me taking it down like champs |
They also had their local friend and her niece come by to make matapa, the traditional staple, in the traditional way. She even let us help!
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| Get it, get it. |
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| Louis being schooled by the Gogo on how to machete open a coconut |
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| Getting my hands dirty. |
Matapa is made from the cassava plant that grows everywhere there, dry or wet, hot or cold, all year round, which is what makes it a good staple. The cassava is combined with crushed peanuts and coconut and some garlic and onion and cooked down to almost a stew consistency that is put over rice. And tastes pretty darn good. I have to say a healthier staple then the pap of South Africa. We enjoyed our dinner with an amazing sunset.
Also, apparently coconut is an invasive species in Moz, as it is in South Africa, but while we just sit around waiting for the coconuts to drop on our heads, they have incorporated it into their diet and culture. Way to go Mozambique.
They get up the trees by using a machete and creating these footholds that they then use to shimmy up the trunk. Of course after chucking rocks at the top to get the bats out. Holler.
The next day, we had a lovely breakfast and then went exploring around their village. Saw the school where Louis teaches.
Also stopped by the local water source. It was actually a pretty exciting public health moment. They have a running water source in the form of geysers (cold, not hot) that are constantly supplying fresh water. They partition this area off for collection of water, and the next area over is designated for laundry. This keeps the cleanest water for drinking, separate from cleaning and bathing. Awesome.
We then stopped by the local dam that sadly is not functioning, but used to supply the whole village with electricity. A good example of where there is need/services are lacking. A dam will be built, but then when the dam breaks, there is nobody to fix it, there is no support system in place to take care of and manage the dam, making a very good idea not sustainable. We need engineers. Engineers to fix the current problems and to teach locals how to fix future problems. Just a thought.
We then gathered up our stuff and took a taxi (aka standing up in the back of a pick up) to a neighboring town to get a taxi to our next destination... Vilanculos and the beach. What what.
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