Religion

 

I always saw the island in three distinctive parts. Somehow they represent a division but not a total separation. It is more like different people who can freely accept each other differences.

 

First you have “Ponta da Ilha”, the poor area. It is very populated and, in religious terms, I am inclined to believe that most of the population is mixing the Muslim religion with local beliefs. Then it is the “central” island, a place for less important public workers and small and medium commerce. This is also the place where the main mesquita, or Muslim church, is situated. There is an old mesquita, dated from 1498, the same year Vasco da Gama arrived at the island. The great majority of the population in the island is Muslim. They say 80% are Muslim, but the actual number can be even higher.

 

Finally the “rich” part of the island, where are the houses of important public workers and other personalities. It is also the catholic area of the island, with various churches and small chapels. I counted at least 6, but I am sure that there are a few more. As I am not sure of names, I am just describing them by the place where they are situated: “Ponta da Ilha” chapel; museum chapel; main church and adjacent museum; fortress chapel; fortress church; tribunal chapel…

 

There is no doubt that the most curious aspect of the island is the coexistence of different religions in such small space (more or less 2 square kilometer). The world should look at this island history and learn a lot about peaceful coexistence!

 

Sempre olhei a ilha como tendo três partes distintas. De certa forma elas representam uma divisão, mas não uma separação completa. É mais uma questão de pessoas diferentes que livremente aceitam as diferenças de cada um.

 

Primeiro temos a “Ponta da Ilha”, a zona mais pobre. É muito povoada e, em termos religiosos, estou inclinada a acreditar que a população mistura a religião muçulmana com as creanças locais. Depois existe a parte central da ilha, um lugar onde se encontram os funcionários menos importantes e o comercio médio. Este é também o lugar onde a mesquita muçulmana está situada. Existe uma mesquita antiga, datada de 1498, a mesma data da chegada de Vasco da Gama à ilha. A maioria da população da ilha é muçulmana. Afirmaram-me que 80% é muçulmana, mas o número real pode ser ainda mais elevado.

 

Finalmente, a parte “rica” da ilha, onde ficam as casas dos funcionários mais importantes e de outras personalidades. É também a zona católica da ilha, com várias igrejas e pequenas capelas. Eu contei pelo menos 6, mas estou certa de que existem algumas mais. Como não estou segura dos nomes, vou descrevê-las pelos lugares onde elas estão situadas: capela da “Ponta da Ilha”, capela do museu, igreja principal, capela da fortaleza, igreja da fortaleza, capela do tribunal…

 

Não existe qualquer dúvida de que o aspecto mais curioso da ilha é a coexistência de diferentes religiões em tão pequeno espaço (sensivelmente dois quilómetros quadrados). O mundo devia olhar para a história desta ilha e aprender muito acerca de coexistência pacífica!

Islanders

 

One of the most interesting aspects of living in Mozambique is the possibility of meeting so many different types of people inside the same country. In fact, the diversity of characteristics is a distinctive mark of Mozambicans. If you travel up to the north, at least to “My Island”, you are going to find a happy, careless people. This seems to be a common aspect with other parts of Mozambique, but in the island that is even more noticeable. And then, it is impossible to forget a particular gentleness that you can’t find anywhere else!

 

Other aspect of these particular islanders is the fact that they don’t sleep. Don’t ask me why, but this is a common accepted fact. I think the explanation is a mix of sleeping outside their houses for small periods due to the hot dry weather, of living from the fishing activity, usually during the night for the majority of the population, or going to bed late for partying or talking and wakening early (4am) for the first Muslim prayers… People live almost of nothing! Selling missanga necklaces or old coins from wrecks, machambas or old buildings, is the easy way of getting some cash, while hard work means fishing.

 

Between other faces that I had the opportunity of photographing, here are just a few: mother with baby Mario; Abdul 1; Abdul 2; missanga boy 1; missanga boy 2; missanga boy 3; brothers and sister living in ruins…

 

Um dos aspectos mais interessantes de viver em Moçambique é a possibilidade de conhecer pessoas tão diferentes dentro do mesmo país. De facto, a diversidade de características é uma marca que diferencia os moçambicanos. Se viajamos para o norte, pelo menos para a “Minha Ilha”, encontramos um povo feliz e descuidado. Este parece ser um aspecto comum com outras partes de Moçambique, mas lá é ainda mais visível. E depois, é também impossível esquecer uma especial docilidade que não se pode encontrar em qualquer outro lugar!

 

Outro aspecto particular destes ilhéus é o facto deles não dormirem. Não me perguntem porquê, mas este é um facto vulgarmente aceite. Penso que a explicação é uma mistura de dormirem fora de casa por pequenos períodos devido ao clima seco e quente, da maioria da população viver da pesca, que geralmente se pratica durante a noite para a grande maioria, ou de irem para a cama tarde por razões de diversão ou tagarelice e acordarem cedo (4 da manhã) para as primeiras rezas muçulmanas… As pessoas vivem quase de nada! Vender colares de missangas ou velhas moedas retiradas de barcos naufragados, desenterradas em machambas ou velhos edifícios, é a forma mais fácil de fazer algum dinheiro, enquanto trabalho duro significa ir à pesca.

 

Entre muitas outras caras que podia ter fotografado, aqui vão apenas algumas: jovem mãe com bebé de nome Mário, Abdul 1; Abdul 2; rapaz das missangas 1; rapaz das missangas 2; rapaz das missangas 3; irmãos e irmã vivendo numas ruínas…

Streets

 

The streets of “My Island” are an endless way to discovery and adventure. That’s how I saw every single square meter of the island when I was a child, and that’s the way I still see it today. You never know what you can face the moment you turn a particular corner of the small town. The island is a paradise for various people: children, dreamers, photographers, quiet ones…

 

I spotted an huge anchor abandoned on a street. My first thought was: “It must be here since years and years…” Wrong! Someone explained at once that the anchor was discovered only two days ago by a group of fishermen. This is just an example why I say that the entire island is a museum.

 

Then you have the architecture and the diversity of beaches and landscapes for such small area! Expect the unexpected, like finding a large group of stray dogs lazily sleeping under some shadow, boats of all kinds and shapes, on the water or out of it, or the most amazing trees that you can imagine… At last, but not least, the colors, the sounds and the people producing them. This island is a never-ending discovery world!

 

As ruas da “Minha Ilha” são um meio interminável de descoberta e aventura. Era assim que eu via qualquer pedaço da ilha quando era criança e é ainda assim que a vejo hoje em dia. Nunca se sabe o que pode surgir no momento em que se vira uma dada esquina da pequena cidade. A ilha é um paraíso para um grupo diversificado de pessoas: crianças, sonhadores, fotógrafos e gente que gosta de sossego…

 

Eu reparei numa âncora enorme abandonada numa rua. O meu primeiro pensamento foi: “Deve estar aqui desde há anos e anos…” Errado! Alghém me explicou quase de imediato que a âncora tinha sido descoberta há apenas dois dias por um grupo de pescadores. Isto é só um exemplo do motivo por que eu vejo toda a ilha como um museu.

 

Depois há a arquitectura e a diversidade de praias e paisagens para uma tão pequena área. Espere o inesperado, como encontrar um grande grupo de cães vadios preguiçosamente dormindo debaixo de qualquer sombra, barcos de todas as formas e feitios, dentro ou fora de água, ou então as árvores mais espantosas que possa imaginar… Por fim, e não com menos importância, as cores, os sons e a gente que os produz. A ilha é um mundo infindável de descoberta!

Light

 

As soon as I woke up to the first morning on the island, the first thing to impress me was the intensity of the light. No comparison with other places I’ve been lately! We were staying in a French managed establishment, simple and well integrated in the past and present. Long ago it was a bar downstairs and a family home upstairs, now it’s a completely different story.

 

We had a busy Sunday scheduled. Places to visit during the morning included the local museum, where a porcelain exhibition is taking shape, the antiquities restoration center and meeting people working in both places, all followed by a get together lunch, a late afternoon meeting and dinner.

 

After lunch we had some time for a tour around the island. In fact, I can say that the entire island is a museum just in need of restoration and a little of vision. Some buildings are in good condition, but the majority is in complete abandon. In my opinion, the list of the worst includes: the museum, the old harbour, the fortress, the swimming pool, the club, the “tribunal” and close buildings, the bakery, the pharmacy… People wanted to know if I was shocked with the state of destruction. In reality, I wasn’t. The island has been old since I know it. It is truth that it is in need of work and investment, but at least there are no big changes in terms of architectural style… and that is already a miracle!

 

Logo que acordei para a primeira manhã na ilha, a primeira coisa a impressionar-me foi a intensidade da luz. Não tem comparação com qualquer dos lugares onde estive ultimamente! Ficámos num estabelecimento gerido por franceses, simples e bem integrado no passado e no presente. Há muito tempo foi um bar no rés-do-chão e uma casa de família no primeiro andar, mas hoje é uma história completamente diferente.

 

Tínhamos um programa para o Domingo bem preeenchido. Os lugares para visitar durante a manhã incluiam o museu local, onde uma exposição de porcelana está a ser preparada, o centro de restauração de antiguidades e conhecer pessoas trabalhando nos dois lugares, tudo isto seguido por um almoço de confraternização, uma reunião ao fim da tarde e jantar.

 

Depois do almoço tivémos algum tempo livre para uma volta na ilha. De facto, posso afirmar que toda a ilha é um museu a precisar de restauro e de alguma visão. Alguns edifícios estão em bom estado, mas a maioria está em completo abandono. Na minha opinião, a lista dos piores inclui: o museu, a piscina, o clube, o antigo cais, a fortaleza, o tribunal e edifícios adjacentes, a antiga padaria, a farmácia… As pessoas quiseram saber se eu estava em estado de choque devido à destruição. Na realidade, não estava. A ilha sempre teve um aspecto antigo. É verdade que está a precisar de trabalho e fundos, mas pelo menos até agora não foram feitas grande alterações em termos de estilo arquitectónico… e isso já de si é um milagre!

I Am Back!

 

Weeks ago, if I was writing that I am just returning from a trip to “My Island”, I wouldn’t believe at all. But here I am, writing it… It seems amazing but it is real, and it feels good to know that reality can be so incredible!

 

Our destiny was Nampula, with stops in Beira and Quelimane. It is always tiresome when it is not a direct flight! We left last Saturday, right after lunch, and it was already night when we arrived in Nampula where a driver was waiting for us. The road to the island is in good conditions, but it was completely dark and because of that we could see very little of places with familiar names like Namialo, Monapo, etc. It was around 9pm when we finally entered the island. I was so excited as tired, so it looked wise to eat something and leave all the action for the next day.

 

Há semanas atrás, se eu escrevesse que acabo de chegar de uma viagem à “Minha Ilha”, não poderia acreditar nisso. Mas aqui estou, a escrever isso mesmo… Parece espantoso mas é real, e é bom saber que a realidade pode ser tão incrível!

 

O nosso destino era Nampula, com paragens na Beira e em Quelimane. É sempre cansativo quando não se trata de um voo directo! Saímos de casa no passado Sábado, logo após o almoço, e já era noite quando chegámos a Nampula, onde um motorista esperava por nós. A estrada para a ilha está em boas condições, mas estava completamente escuro e por isso vimos muito pouco de lugares com nomes conhecidos como Namialo, Monapo, etc. Já era cerca das 9 da noite quando finalmente entrámos na ilha. Sentia-me tão excitada como cansada, por tal pareceu sensato comer qualquer coisa e deixar toda a acção para o dia seguinte.

Cooking for Us

 

It is good to have my cook Tieta back! She is a helpful quiet lady. Like so many Mozambican women, her life hasn’t been easy but she doesn’t complain and has always a smile to offer. Because of her return from holidays, I found myself remembering all the people previously cooking for us here. Our first cook was an old man called Mario. He was more than 70 and we used to call him “senhor Mario”, a way of showing our respect for his old age. We just looked at him as an old man who could cook. One day we discovered that he had a 5 years old son. It was quite a surprise, but not unusual for an African man. I can’t remember why he stopped working for us, but I guess he started to feel tired and decided to live with one of his eldest sons.

 

After Mario I remember a Zambezian man called Vieira. He was a very good cook but we had to send him away because of his drinking habits. Emilio came next. He still is the best cook we had until now. Well, at least he knew how to do all kind of pastries – something that is very appealing to me. He cooked for us during a period when we received a lot, and some of our old friends can still remember, from time to time, a couple of “banquets” he prepared. Unfortunately he was not very honest, so we had to get rid of him.

 

After a series of men cooking, we decided to change for women. They seemed more friendly and patient towards the children. The first woman to cook for us was Juliet. She was an average cook, very humble, patient and faithful. While working for us she produced 6 children, each one of a different father. At the end, she was spending more time discussing urgent matters with the 6 fathers than cooking for us.

 

In between cooks, we had our nanny Maria doing the kitchen work. Maria was already old when she came to help us with the boys. She was a special lady indeed! It is enough to tell that she was the first wife of an important “régulo”, a local king. She was separated from him and lived with one of her sons, not far from our own house. As she was an active lady, she decided to work and help me raising my boys. Before her I had a nanny called Fina (means thin), who was a very fat nice lady. She left because she was too busy with curandeiros (witchdoctors) trying to solve her infertility problem.

 

Maria helped for a couple of mouths, until Juliet returned again to disappear once and for good. It is not easy for me to have a new face in my house! To tell you the truth, it is quite traumatizing. I accepted a young lady called Rosa for a short period, but she stayed with us for almost 10 years. I still remember the day I interviewed her. She was so week with famine that she trembled like a young tree under strong wind. Her husband had expelled her and took her only daughter with him. She used to cry a lot remembering her little girl. I am not going to tell a lot about Rosa, because her story is big enough for another post. One day she was called to work in a local hotel, but before leaving she brought her aunt Tieta to replace her. Tieta has been with us for almost five years now.

 

I could remember many sad and funny episodes involving cooks. The funniest of them all occurred with people working for my parents. One of them was a young and strong cook from the island I’ve been talking recently. He used to prepare us decadent breakfasts and delicious orange juices. One of his strong abilities was croquettes, a small meat cake that children liked very much. One day my mother entered unexpectedly in the kitchen (the colonial kitchen was usually detached from the main building) and found him using his belly as cutting board. He dusted flour in it and rolled the croquettes up and down. How disgusting this is!!! My mother talked with him, trying to make him see that he couldn’t do that, but she always suspected that when she wasn’t around the belly was automatically active.

 

Later we had another curious cook. At that time we were around 8 and we lived in Europe. My mother liked to have people cooking for us because she didn’t like to cook and also because we were very picky with food. That lady cook was really good and we liked very much her soups and her small chicken “empadas”, or chicken pies if you like. She was very patient giving soup to my vegetarian sister, a job that used to start at noon and end around teatime. One day she started to disappear for long periods, returning afterwards as if nothing happened. My mother usually listened to her excuses but one day decided to investigate. At the end, my mother discovered that during her absences our cook was in a mental hospital receiving treatment for schizophrenia. After so many years, I still remember my mother dismay when she learned the truth!

A Travel and a Cake

 

Here I am, posting in South Africa about our last days and our next days. This is going to be an exciting and difficult week, with two travels scheduled for so close. First of all, I have my right-hand Tieta back since Tuesday or I would be all tied up. Her holidays looked short - now that are over - still I had time to do my apple cake! The best moment of these last days had to be the invitation to the island. The second best moment was our Friday dinner chez TD’s girlfriend. I truly enjoyed the food, the wine and the company. I also liked my Sunday afternoon running. It was fast and effortless.

 

Tuesday morning, the same day Tieta returned from her vacations, we packed for South Africa. We had two days planned of shopping and fun on the mountains, long before knowing about the invitation to the island. The prospect of our next travel has been always present. Due to that, and also because it is too cold to face another night here, we decided in favor of returning to our base this afternoon. Up on the mountains, it is sunny during the day and freezing cold at night.

 

Now my Apple TV Cake. I call it TV Cake because it is one of the few TV receipts that works for me. It is good with tea or coffee, and even as a desert:

 

1. Mix together all dry ingredients: 2 cups of flour, 1 cup of sugar, 1 pinch of salt and 1 teaspoon of baking powder.

 

2. Add half cup of good quality cooking oil, followed by three entire eggs. Mix well without mixing too much or beating. This dough is a little dry.

 

3. Spice the mix with cinnamon powder, ginger powder, nutmeg powder, gloves powder and vanilla (liquid or pod), at your taste. I like a lot of cinnamon and just a touch of the rest.

 

4. Add two or three skinless Granny Smith apples sliced in small cubes to the dough and mix a little.

 

5. Prepare a medium size cake tin, square or round. You can double the recipe, if you like. Cook it in a 180ºC pre-heated oven for 40 to 50 minutes.

 

This cake is good with tea or coffee. I also like it with vanilla or coconut ice cream (apple sorbet too) and a dash of cinnamon over the desert plate. Bon appétit!

In Black & White

 

From time to time, the town where we live offers some new attraction to put a touch of color in our black & white lives. This week we went to the photographic exhibition “The Island – In Black & Color”. The exhibition room is one of the best in town: spotless, well illuminated and even perfumed (literally). The exhibition catalogue, despite a few mistakes, is very attractive and complete, documenting in full the two photographers showed. To all this I must add that the island in question is not any island but the island where I lived from 4 to 6 years old.

 

Now the expected critique: despite being a very well organized exhibition, I don’t think it was entirely succeeded. We watched an interesting film-documentary about the island, but the main attraction, as you must guess, was the photographers’ work. I am not going to detail the negative aspects that I could take note. It is enough to tell that, in general, the photographs don’t offer anything new in terms of what has been already told about the island in photography: the same faces, the same views, the same old buildings… They are a document of present day-to-day life in the island where I started to have dreams of princesses, knights, treasures and sea adventures.

 

It is not regrets what I felt. I am so tired of such feelings! It is not the changes in the island that make me say no to the exhibition. I am being very objective in terms of judgment and two other people agree with me. Despite the efforts in following actual photographic concepts, there is a devastating sensation of poverty and limitation of subjects and creativity. The exception may be a group of black & white photos. In that room, the color was simply in excess…

Do You Believe In Fairy Tales?

 

I do, I definitively do! The question is that I am so excited that I am afraid to step over my own words and not being able to tell you what happened. Take a deep breath! Another one! Go!

 

We all have dreams: big dreams, small dreams, tangible dreams, impossible dreams… I am about to realize what I can qualify as a big tangible dream. Recently I had to take a decision. If it depended on me, I would never hurt another human being – even if he was not a good human being. But I hadn’t control over the situation and now what is done is done. I usually like direct approaches, and the useful words “no” and “yes”. But if I still had doubts about my position, they would be completely vanished by now. A couple of days after taking that position, a real count offered me the opportunity of realizing a dream.

 

My life was very marked by the two years I’ve spent in a very special island in the Indian Ocean. Two days ago I went to a photographic exhibition about that island, because I never miss an event related with the place where I had so much fun. In my next post I will tell you about that exhibition.

 

Since I left the island, with 6 years old, I never returned there. It has been a dream so many times told, so many times weighed up! However, the opportunity never appeared. It is not so easy to travel inside Mozambique due to the long distances and other logistic aspects. Besides we got used of traveling to South Africa, so near and so appealing. The reality is that the number one place I would like to visit in the all world is in Mozambique, but for too many reasons to tell I could never do it.

 

Today, in the middle of the afternoon, we had a meeting with a real life count. I know that princes and counts are supposed to realize good girls’ dreams, but I was a little forgot how true this is. It was just another work meeting, nothing impressive, except for the fact of our interlocutor being a German count. But then, Seabell studied during 7 years in a boarding school where two in three had what strangely is called sangue azul, “blue blood”. The count, as I was expecting, is a personification of simplicity and very friendly. The meeting was almost ending when he popped the invitation to the island where he develops his professional activity. Since then I can’t stop smiling. I am going to end up with a twisted mouth, but I don’t care. How could someone about to realize a dream stop smiling? Just tell me how!

 

(Since I posted about my eczema, a couple of people contact me to ask about it. For two months now I don’t have a single crisis, a good proof that the reason of that stress is gone for good. I truly believe that I don’t have to worry with it any more. I am sick and tired of being a prey… Thanks for asking!)

 

Photo from the exhibition “The Island – In Black & Color”

Favorable Winds

 

Life is good in this part of the world! Plans for holidays are in full speed, JP is approaching a less wild area of Angola (we already can communicate with him), Andy is busy with a Zambezian friend and, above all, TD arrived yesterday after a long stay in Paris. If you read this page, you know what this represents for me!

 

As my cook Tieta is enjoying part of her holidays since last Monday, I’ve been pretty busy with sauces and pans. It is really good to cook from time to time. I usually say that if one doesn’t have to cook by obligation, then cooking is a pleasant task. Yesterday I prepared a pan roast and a pea and rice soup. Now I’m getting my apron and be a little creative once again. And I truly have to be creative… We have guests for lunch!

 

As coisas estão bem nesta parte do mundo! Os planos de férias correm a vapor, o JP está agora numa zona menos isolada de Angola (já conseguimos comunicar com ele), o Andy anda entretido con um amigo zambeziano e, acima de tudo, o TD chegou ontem depois de uma longa estadia em Paris. Quem costuma ler esta página deve saber o que isso representa para mim!

 

Como a minha cozinheira Tieta está a gozar uma parte das suas férias desde a passada segunda-feira, tenho andado às voltas com tachos e panelas. É realmente bom cozinhar de tempos em tempos! Eu costumo dizer que se não temos de cozinhar por obrigação, então cozinhar torna-se uma tarefa agradável. Ontem preparei carne assada na panela e uma sopa creme de ervilhas com arroz. Agora tenho de ir pôr o meu avental e voltar a ser criativa. Tenho realmente de ser criativa… É que temos convidados para o almoço! (Esta tradução é dedicada à S, com um beijo de parabéns!)