Oh the small joys of travelling through Mozambique.

Travelling is always an experience, normally not the most comfortable thing in the world, but I always learn something new. 

This past weekend I went to Mocuba, the second large city in the province of Zambezia, where I live.  I was heading to a JUNTOS conference with a fellow professor from Invinha.  He asked me to accompany him, because historically JUNTOS* is predominately run by Peace Corps volunteers.  I think it is absolutely wonderful and much more sustainable having a Mozambican run the JUNTOS group.  Volunteer lead groups rise and fall with the volunteers that come and then leave.  Needless to say, this weekend was a training of trainers.  This means jumping on the 4 lane highway and zipping down the interstate to Mocuba, right?  Well, not exactly, but almost.  

People need to go to the chapa station in Gurue the day before and buy a spot (ticket) in the chapa for the next day, I learned that we would be leaving Gurue at 4 AM, oh dear.  I woke up at 3:45 and walked very quickly with a hood up and long pants to the station.  While I honestly do feel safe walking around by myself during the day, I would be a little scared walking around at 4 AM anywhere, including the US, so fear not!  What was great was a call at 3:55 making sure I was awake by someone very dear, thanks for attracting attention to the gal trying to not draw attention to herself He Who Must Not Be Named, and no, I do not mean Voldemort.  Speaking English on the phone definitely doesn’t attract attention to other people, cough cough.  Anyways, back to the story! 

I get a relatively good spot in the back row next to the window.  The other window 3 window seats on the good side of the chapa were already taken and I needed to save a spot for my colleage.  At a little before 5 AM we roll out of the station (yes, it would have been tempting to show up later knowing the chapa wasn’t actually leaving at 4, but then that means no window seat, and it’s definitely worth it).  Zipping down the highway, through the fog, I slightly felt like I was playing real life frogger except instead of avoiding cars, we were avoiding potholes.  The nice thing is, in Moz, people don’t really have to stay on their side of the line, so it’s basically like riding on a multilane highway, well at least a two-lane highway.  Rarely we would hit some monster pot holes, but very frequently we jumped, literally leapt, I might even be tempted to call it actual flying, right over many of the smaller ones.  Is this good for the car? Probably not, but time is money. 

            Nearing the end of our trip my fellow passengers and I come to a halting stop, what happened you might ask?  Well, we lost a wheel, naturally.  It was actually unbelievable, literally incredible.  The driver and the cobrador (the guy collecting the money) jumped out, and I kid you not, twenty seconds later a new tire was popped on and we were on our way.  NASCAR doesn’t know what they’re missing.  These Mozambicans would make those teams eat their dust.  After a safe arrival, we get bombarded by ‘taxi’ drivers.  More like mini-motorcycles that drive people around the city for pennies to the dollar.  Benvindo (the other teacher with me) looked at me quizzically, it was a test, do I go on foot or jump on the back of a bike.  I choose walking by foot; he seemed disappointed.  Now it was my turn for the quizzical look.  I asked him if he wanted to go on the bikes and his response was along the lines of “I figured you would want to.  I laughed at him and said, well sure, but I have feet too.  Benvindo: But, you’re white, you have the money to pay, so why don’t you? Me: Why pay when I don’t have to, it’s a ten-minute walk.   Sure I have the money, but why use it?   For a developing country sometimes I wonder at their lack of frugality. 

            This response seemed to stump him a little.  I was under the impression that he wanted me to jump on the back of a bike and offer to pay for his ride to.  Hey, if you won’t want to walk, hop on my back, I’ll carry you.  That would have been a site to see!  We show up at the hotel where the conference was being held.  I get showed to my room and the hotel worker looks at me extremely ashamed saying, “I’m sorry ma’am, the air conditioning works, but we don’t have running water.”  .  I give a small laugh of relief (it’s pretty damn hot), but I was a little confused…that’s all fine  news.  I am happy, because I definitely was not expecting air conditioning.  The man started to cower away a little bit when I started to laugh, he was confused.  I stop laughing trying to figure out what is wrong.  We both just stare at each other, me waiting for bad news, and him waiting for me to get extremely angry.   I hesitate before asking “is there anything else?”  (At this point I’m expecting a cockroach colony swarming into my room hundreds at the time.)  His response was not what I was expecting for sure and it made me sad; “ma,am…you’re not mad at us?  I said we don’t have running water.  Do you understand my Portuguese, that means the water doesn’t function.”  I start to laugh again, explaining that yes, I do understand and that it’s not a problem.  I even let him in on the secret that I have been living taking bucket baths for the last 5 months now.  He was wholly shocked; “but you’re white!  Your people need to use running water.  They don’t like to come here and find out they can’t.  Most of them leave…you’re going to, stay?”  I couldn’t figure out who was more confused at this point.  I gently explain to him that not all white people need running water and that bucket baths work just as well, he seemed impressed, but he did sneak me an extra soda later that day. 

              Anyways, the conference went pretty well, I had fun, it was nice to see and meet other volunteers and learn more about JUNTOS .  That night Benvindo says we can leave the hotel at 8:30 to catch a chapa.  Knowing Mozambique, I showed up fifteen minutes late, let’s just say I shouldn’t have set my alarm.  At 9:45 we leave the hotel and it’s hot, I mean, really hot.  We walk to the station and I jump in a window seat, the first thing I do is open the window.  The Mozambican in front of me grumbled about getting Malaria.  (This will be a wonderful topic for another post.)

 I am not exaggerating when I say that I have never sweat so much in my entire life just by sitting there, not moving.  It took over 2 hours for the chapa to fill.  2 hours of sitting on the sunny side of the chapa without sunscreen on a blistering day.  My right arm is not the happiest.  While I think the thought of being able to stand on the side of the road and waving your hand and being picked up is awesome, I don’t think it’s awesome when it’s a 4 hour ride that turns into a 6 hours ride because every 2 minutes we were stopping and going, stopping and going, people coming and leaving.  Normally the ones that stop and pick up people on the side of the road are the local chapas, and the long distance ones just drive by, not wanting to waste time.   I tend to just breathe deeply when Mozambique doesn’t run as efficiently as I would like, but when the locals are screaming at the driver, I know that something definitely is not right. 

All in all, 8 hours sitting in the same position, being stuffed in like a tetris piece, with no wiggle room really did it for me.  I officially have a bruised tailbone and bruised knees.  Thank you very much for these lasting presents Moz, I truly will cherish them.

On the plus side, Moz has incredible fast food service, I mean better than McDonalds.  Dang, what I wouldn’t doo for a double cheese burger, fries and a McFlurry right now.  Every time the chapa stopped in a town market to trade out passengers, dozens of people sprint up to the windows screaming prices at you, elbowing their way to the front, all while balancing everything they are trying to sell

on their heads.  That’s talent.  12 oranges, 33 cents; 6 passion fruit, 17 cents; hard boiled eggs with a dash of salt, 20 cents; an ice cold 1.5 L water, $1.  They sell sunglasses, flasks, underwear, bike chains, phone credit, phones, shoes, and little cakes.  It’s pretty astonishing the things you can buy.

P.S. I got a new hair cut!  5 or 6 inches gone.  Picture soon to come. 

This is a Golden Orb Spider, a beautiful species.

Their webs are unbelievably strong.

I went on a hike a few weekends ago and we brought these two along.  Meet Kainda and Ronnie.

Kainda is breathtaking.  

And Brianna, she's a few month old Rhodesian Ridgeback!  She is going to be HUGE.

Anyone know what type of moth this is?  One unnamed man back in the states and I disagree.

*JUNTOS-Jovens Unidos No Trabalho para Oportunidade e Successo.   Translation: Teens United in the Work for Opportunity and Success.