Paul and I

 

Days ago I posted about differences between Paul and I. Correction, I posted about a particular aspect of his personality that bothers me a lot. He is someone who loves shopping everyday. However, what bothers me it’s not the act of shopping itself but the result of it: an accumulation of unnecessary objects inside the space where we live.

 

As you can guess when someone is talking about distinct personalities, there are other differences too. But I wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t point out his best traits too. Generosity may be his best feature. In what concerns my person, his generosity makes him feel if I am bored, and sometimes even suggest places to go, when I know that he would rather stay at home.

 

The second aspect that I really appreciate is the way he accepts most of my crazy ideas. Sometimes he fights them, but in general he plays along. That is a big plus! In this field, I am particularly grateful for the way he understands and accepts my erratic sleeping hours.

 

And before I close this deserved recognition, I have to confess how cozy is to have someone updating me every morning in terms of news. If it were not for him, today I wouldn’t know how Bishop Chimoio became an international matter after ventilating his radical ideas on safe sex! Saying that condoms are infected with aids is a terrible mistake, in a country where people believe in almost everything. Despite knowing that church and condoms don’t get along, I would like to believe it has been all a mix-up.

Waves of Crime

 

I hate to write it, but sometimes I have to admit that we live in a violent society. The curious thing about this sad reality is that here we have “crime seasons”. For instance, it is common to have an increase of crime during holidays, especially in December. Those are the usual expected periods… Like a replay of a movie we don’t want to watch, from time to time we also have disturbing periods of crime. They cannot be explained, except by irrational reasons. Or can they?

 

If we look at this society, it is a wonder that things are not that bad. Businesses are closing everyday, and unemployment is so high that we can even say that to be unemployed is the normal situation. To be employed is the exception! Recently I received a mail with a text complaining about taxes. Between other sad truths, it said that Mozambicans work hard to maintain a government that gives nothing in exchange. Why pay then?

 

With the increase of crime, tourism follows the opposite direction: down! This week, someone that I know started a blog to help art craft street vendors, after listening to their complains about how slow business is. It is a good intention, but I know that it requires some expertise and commitment that the person in question does not have…

 

The day I was taking the decision to buy another camera capable of taking pictures as I like, I learned that precisely on the same spot where my camera was stolen, two German tourists ladies were assaulted. One of them could run for help, while the other was left to fight for her life and possessions. The pain I felt is still very alive, so I could understand very well what they must have experienced. When Andy learned about that, he just commented: “How is it possible to keep happening such thing right on the same place? Something has to be wrong!”

 

A lot is wrong! Everybody knows very well this hopeless feeling, and that’s why we have to deal with people setting alight other people.

 

“What about the police?” you may ask.

 

The police is too busy involved in an internal war. During the last months, factions inside the police are killing other factions, just like in a bad old gangster movie. A speeding car stops near another police patrol car, minutes of shooting follow and 3 or 4 lifeless bodies are left in the middle of the bloody tar.

 

I have a simple explanation for most of the phenomenon happening in this society. This is a country build of rebellion against authority. Perhaps because of that, it looks to me that people are afraid of the word and the implications of its meaning. Besides, in order to have authority, it is necessary to have a certain moral status. Finally, I do think that the political game explains a lot. Taking steps towards development would require courage and sometimes unpopular measures. Maintaining the status quo, it’s just another way of surviving in power!

Thoth Got Sick

 

Our wonderful dog Thoth has been sick. He couldn’t move and it looked like he had stomach cramps. I suspect he has eaten some plastic or stuffed item, and now he is facing difficulties in digesting it. Our vet and friend is out of town, so I had to remember an old natural treatment for stomach pain: warm olive oil and a caring rubbing hand. We do have EVOO and lots of loving hands eager to massage Thoth’s sore belly. The fact is that half an hour later he was moving and never stopped improving ever since.

 

After that we went for our Monday afternoon walk to find one of the cutest scene I’ve seen in a very long time: a big Mozambican guy training a minuscule Jack Russel. The cuteness resided in the ratio teacher-student. The student looked to be a very small young dog, even for JR standards. The contrast between sizes was pretty irresistible! We talked with the teacher (a professional dog trainer) and cuddled his small attentive student. His opinion about Thoth coincides with mine. Thoth is bored. Just like me.

A Scream in The Night

 

Last Friday I’ve done it again! I would have awakened an entire building screaming a word, but nobody was sleeping around except for Paul and the outside guarda. Andy and JP went away for the weekend, kind of a goodbye trip because JP’s holidays are almost over. I had to be awaken to stop screaming, but the reason of the scream is now forever lost. I would like to know a lot more about that dream than what I actually can. This time it was clear to me that my dreams are perfect outlet valves! At least, since Friday I’ve been feeling much calmer and focused.

 

Saturday and Sunday turned out to be a mix of relaxation and work, with stuffed crab as a treat. I could have a Sunday lunch at a local restaurant without feeling “stuffed” myself! We are not sure about further plans for tomorrow, a local holiday. Mozambique celebrates the 25th of September under some controversy due to the victims of the explosions of old military equipment. I could add a lot to that controversy, but I don’t feel like doing politics at this stage. All my worries were screamed away last Friday. I will be worry free during a certain period of time. A long one, I hope!

______________

 

Na última sexta-feira, aconteceu de novo! Poderia ter acordado todo um prédio gritando uma palavra, mas ninguém dormia por perto excepto o Paul e o guarda de fora. O Andy e o JP saíram durante o fim-de-semana, numa espécie de viagem de despedida porque as férias do JP estão quase a terminar. Tive de ser acordada para parar de gritar, mas a razão do grito está para sempre perdida. Gostaria de saber muito mais acerca dessse sonho do que realmente sei. Desta vez foi evidente para mim que os meus sonhos são perfeitas válvulas de escape! Pelo menos desde sexta-feira que me sinto muito mais calma e concentrada.

 

Sábado e domingo acabaram por ser uma mistura de descanso e trabalho, com caranguejo recheado de regalo. Consegui almoçar fora no domingo, num restaurante local, sem me sentir “recheada”! Não estamos certos de outros planos para amanhã, um feriado local. Moçambique celebra o 25 de Setembro debaixo de alguma controvérsia devido às vítimas das explosões de velho equipamento militar. Poderia juntar muito mais a esta controvérsia, mas neste momento não me sinto com disposição de me meter em política. Todas as minhas preocupações foram gritadas na sexta-feira… Vou estar sem preocupações durante um certo período. Esperemos que bem longo!

Extraordinary!

 

I love when things around me change radically. I’ve been feeling kind of down lately, part as consequence of the usual post-holiday syndrome, part due to a soar throat. You can see when I am down because I close myself in my world and stop seeing what is happening around me. Result? I “talk too much” about myself!

 

Paul suggested one of our short trips for last Thursday. Why not? I had nothing to loose. The day was very hot, but hot for now means good, not yet the usual inferno. I worked on a task of mine while Paul was driving Andy’s car. Because I wanted to work, I only had a heavy professional bag with me. Paul finished carrying it most of the time!

 

Finally, we sat for lunch. Paul decided to stay at the table, while I finished the usual shopping tour. With no bag, I used my pink jeans pockets to keep the money. Very soon I was heavy with the coins gathered inside my right pocket. I remembered Paul, a little bored waiting at the restaurant table with only a re-read newspaper for company. I felt the weight inside the pocket and decided to visit my favorite bookstore to buy a magazine for him. I used the following line of thought to select one amongst hundreds of titles available: it should be different, it should be financial, it should be about the region and it should be unexpensive… I had the idea that the amount making my right pocket heavy wasn’t that heavy in terms of real value. I found such magazine, but the price was nowhere to be seen. I went to the counter, where a helpful lady was able to find the price on a very unusual spot.

 

“Twenty nine and forty five. Do you want it?”

 

“Yes, please” I said asking if she wouldn’t mind if I paid with the coins I had with me.

 

“It is fine, my dear” she replied. (These days it is good to be in a country expecting to carry home a rugby trophy! I could feel that difference for several occasions.)

 

Feeling her good mood, my hand went for the coins and put them all in front of her.

 

“I hope it is enough!” I pronounced while she counted one by one. Meanwhile, without any hope of being enough, I was already reaching my left pocket, where I kept the “heavy money” in terms of value. When the shop lady finished the counting, she looked at me with surprise and suspicion.

 

“What is it?” I asked.

 

“You have put over the counter precisely the necessary amount to pay for the magazine!”

 

“It can’t be! There must be at least a 5c less…”

 

“Not a single cent less or more!” she said smiling.

 

I left feeling that she could be a little sceptical about extraordinary coincidences. They happen to me, and I like them. During this trip, another extraordinary thing happened to me and also two pleasant surprises. My mood changed drastically. Paul was grateful for the magazine and, because of it, I could finish my shopping without feeling guilty. Perhaps I should explain that Paul was peacefully waiting in the restaurant for the battery of my computer to be full, so I could work during our almost 3 hours trip back.

 

This time shopping was kind of fun, because I had a strange and diversified list of items to buy. On top of it, toys for Thoth. Besides, while shopping I kept remembering one of JP’s jokes about coins. A man used to go to the same restaurant with an ostrich. He ordered food for both and at the end he had always the right sum inside his pocket to pay the bill.

 

The waiter noticed the coincidence and asked how he could always guess the right amount specified on the bill. The man explained with openness:

 

“A genius appeared and asked me what I wanted. Clever as I am, I didn’t ask for huge amounts of money because I know that even the richest man in the world can one day loose everything. Instead, I asked to have the right amount inside my pocket every single time I needed it.”

 

“How clever of you! Like this, your money will never end!” the waiter exclaimed.

 

The client and the ostrich were already leaving the restaurant, when the same waiter approached with another question: “Well, as you have been so kind to tell me about the money, I wonder if you could explain the ostrich.”

 

“That is simple! The genius offered two wishes to me. First, I asked for money. Second, I asked for a wife with long legs and a big butt. You see?”

Being Seabell 2

 

In my dreams I am always a real person with my flaws and qualities. However, in reality, I am not an individual but someone with a title, pre-qualified, with a status and necessarily with a behavior according to that status… I see people around me behaving like they should behave, always trying to put their ways and their words through, always expecting that I, as an individual, loose my individuality for someone’s sake or for the group.

 

All I expect from people around me is that they see me and know me as a person, respecting the way I am, good or bad as it may look. I admit that at a certain point I do have to respect others individuality too, but before that I expect the respect of others. Depending on the circumstances, I do expect some kind of acknowledgment and, above all, no judgmental attitudes with external consequences. If I don’t try to change other’s behavior just for them to fit in mine, why should they point my own behavior or judge me?

 

On the contrary, when people around me try to pull me down, it is when I arouse and feel better and somehow far away superior. It is the boomerang effect I am talking about…

 

I do get respect if I behave like they want and expect me to behave: unselfishly, lovingly and ghostly. But if I present myself as an individual, with my individual characteristics and a life story that goes beyond them and what they want to know about me, my feelings and my life, all the fun stops. They just like to see what they want! They just like to listen what they expect! My conclusion is obviously one: we socialize because of fate, not because of choice… There is no friendship involved here, no admiration, no uplifting, no give and take… Just plain social atavism.

 

Do they hilariously think that I would submit to them or change my ways because of them? Do they think that I would change and be what they would like me to be, just to make them happy and, by the way, forget all the pain, mischievousness and wrong doing other people do to me? People that even so go through life as if they were the nicest persons one could imagine! Blessed hypocrisy! Blessed blindness! Blessed egoism! I concluded that I am not going to ignore that selfishness or change the way I am: an individual, first and mostly, not a job title or a social function!

 

Sometimes I understand why I feel like escaping from a world of respectability and hypocrisy! I know I shouldn’t be living in a dream world. I’ve tried to step out of the circle for three times. Outside it’s only emptiness and indifference. Inside or out, I have to carry a fair amount of reality with me. Just in case…

Being Seabell

 

I don’t know if you ever tried one of those internet quizzes “what type of person are you”? I have once, a single one, just to know the sensation. Perhaps a little of curiosity too… At the end, I discovered something that I already knew! Quite interesting confirming that I know a little bit about myself… I had to know that I am a judgmental kind of person! In reality, I am a very organized judgmental person. When I meet someone, I am very curious about him or she. That curiosity lasts until I can attach a single word to him or she. I recognize that this is not acceptable, because people are always a lot more than a single word. I have this faiblesse of mine… And I have to tell that it is very rare to be wrong on my first impressions.

 

We are always learning knew things about our personalities. The last thing I discovered about myself was during the previous week. I’ve spent most of my time looking for a hat lost some time ago. Suddenly, it was clear to me that I am always looking for something that I had or experienced before. It’s like living in eternal quests.

 

The list of things that I am looking for, or seeking, is huge. Besides a hat, in it you would find: a stolen camera, a taste, a place, a moment, a boyfriend, a feeling…

 

If I find it, I recognize it at once. When I can’t find it, it is a bit sad but I won’t stop looking. If I give up, I wouldn’t be the seeker I think I am.

______________

 

After writing the above text, I found myself wondering if I am not a “saudosista”, someone always living in the past. Camões, the Portuguese poet, describes this kind of attitude through a curious character, someone he called the Old Man of Restelo representing the people who criticized the 1500 discovery adventure.

 

I would hate to be like that. I don’t think I am like that. I like new things. I like changes. My quests are very specific. They only concern a handful of objects I liked very much, and a handful of experiences… No “saudosista” lives here!

Left Behind!

 

Yesterday I missed my September Holidays group. It was very windy, one of the worst suladas (South wind) ever. I prepared fish medallions, the simplest and tasty possible way. You just need: a good sauce pan, clean and fresh first class fish medallions, parsley, olive oil, good quality unsalted butter, salt and pepper. Cover the saucepan with a little of olive oil, start to cook the fish seasoning it with grated coarse salt and black pepper. Turn the medallions until the desired texture, knowing that they cook quickly at a medium temperature.

 

The last moment, just before turning the gas off, add parley and butter to the fish, shaking the saucepan. Serve it right away. We had the fish with steamed small potatoes, cauliflower and a nice sparkling wine. Now some of you can understand why I missed you. Welcome!

 

During the weekend I finished a book I started reading last January. Despite all the time it took to read, it was interesting and very well written. I have a pile of 10 books to read… Wish me luck!

___________________

 

Now a serious matter: during the weekend, one of the local TV stations advanced a likely date to start the driver’s license production, a subject I’ve been writing about (posts of 2007-03-09 and 2007-03-17). I guess they forgot to tell a couple of details, like the impossibility of starting production without a court decision.

 

Southern Africans are already driving under the same type of document. That doesn’t include Mozambicans, as one might think. Why so? The answer is a story already told. Anyway, I regard as useful remembering it now. Besides, it gives you an idea of why some are left behind in the run for regional integration and development.

 

Mozambique has to produce a new driver’s license similar to the one already in use in other countries of SADC. One bid was organized to select a candidate capable of producing the new license, operation financed by a major international institution. Three different enterprises presented proposals on time: 1 overseas company that quit in the middle of the selection; 1 regional company, in partnership with another Mozambican enterprise, presenting a cost superior to USD 4 millions, for the production of 400.000 licenses during a period of 5 years; 1 Mozambican company with a proposal of USD 2.1 millions for the same effect. Besides, it was the only one to present a model as prove of capacity in realizing the job.

 

The company presenting the higher cost was awarded. The “funny” part of all this is that the same company, who obviously don’t have the capacity of supplying the documents, has already contacted the loser to ask them to do the job.

 

Actually, all the process of drivers license production apparently stopped, waiting for a court decision. As it is evident, the complaining company appealed to the existing legal institutions in order to see its rights confirmed.

 

The awarded company cannot produce, because the administrative court doesn’t allocate the sum. The enterprise offering the best price and best general conditions awaits for a decision… Meanwhile, nothing can be done.

 

I guess it is a little disturbing for people who dreamed for so long of power to learn that power has limits. Well, I am glad such instruments of control exist… The future, in what concerns this controversial case, is at least gloomy. Who is paying for all this? Once again, the innocent people are left behind when the question is a better life!

Words From the Bay

 

It looks like a good occasion to update you on what is happening here, in this place once called Delagoa Bay. It is incredible to acknowledge that 200 years ago this area was ruled by the Dutches installed in Cape Town and the Portuguese only had an ambassador near Ngungunhana, the Gaza emperor.

 

Here, where Delagoa Bay was, we still have the bay (not the same, for sure) and it is spring again. African spring it’s like a kind summer. We traveled twice lately and returned to find the weather changed: less humidity, more wind and higher temperatures.

 

Today we received one of the two annual visits of our air conditioner technician. Yes, we are preparing for the coming season! For now we can live without air conditioner, but from now on it is going to be crucial for our survival.

 

Jo is supposed to arrive soon from Brazil with his mind set on a new job, just like JP is. NB is going to be a first time father in January, so I guess he is hoping to be called in the next days – the only way to spend the months of December and January here.

 

TD is traveling soon to Paris. Since our September holidays, our eyes have been in France and our hearts a little bit with the South African and a little bit with the Portuguese rugby squads. Vic is nowhere to be seen. Speaking of him, they should be diving for fish by now!

 

Paul has his own quests. Andy and I returned from our two weeks holidays a little disappointed with the perspective of another summer in a big crowded city. In order to keep us in the good mood side, we do have plans for further holidays. Otherwise, it would be impossible to go through such a long period of extreme hot weather!

 

Andy and I have been dreaming of islands for too long! No special island, just dreams… Besides dreaming about islands, I have been working on a translation and craving time for myself. Sometimes I feel so tired of exercising that I have to sacrifice my reading and writing time to sleep a much needed sleep!

______________

 

Parece-me ser uma boa ocasião para vos pôr a par daquilo que tem acontecido aqui, neste lugar que um dia se chamou Delagoa Bay. É incrível lembrar que há 200 anos esta zona era governada pelos holandeses instalados na Cidade do Cabo e os portugueses só tinham um embaixador junto de Gungunhana, o imperador de Gaza.

 

Aqui, onde ficava Delagoa Bay, nós ainda temos a baía (não a mesma, como é fácil de calcular) e é Primavera de novo. A Primavera africana é um Verão gentil. Nós viajámos duas vezes nestes últimos tempos, para encontrarmos o tempo mudado: menos humidade, mais vento e temperaturas mais altas.

 

Hoje recebemos uma das duas visitas anuais do nosso técnico de ar condicionado. É verdade, estamos a fazer preparativos para a estação que aí vem! Até aqui conseguimos viver sem o ar condicionado, mas de agora em diante ele vai ser crucial para a nossa sobrevivência.

 

O Jo deve regressar em breve do Brasil com a cabeça dele num novo período de trabalho, tal e qual como o JP. O NB vai ser pai pela primeira vez em Janeiro, por isso eu acho que ele espera ser chamado nos próximos dias – a única maneira de garantir que passará os meses de Dezembro e Janeiro aqui.

 

O TD vai viajar em breve para Paris. Desde as nossas férias de Setembro que os nossos olhos têm estado em França e os nossos corações um pouco com a esquadra sul-africana e um pouco com a esquadra portuguesa de rugby. Não temos visto o Vic. Falando dele, por esta altura já deviam estar a mergulhar atrás de peixe!

 

O Paul anda ocupado com os assuntos dele. O Andy e eu voltámos das nossas ferias de duas semanas um pouco desapontados com a perspectiva de outro Verão numa grande cidade cheia de gente. De forma a manter o nosso bom humor, nós já temos planos para outras férias. De outra forma, ser-nos-ia impossível aguentar um período tão longo de extremo calor!

 

O Andy e eu temos andado a sonhar com ilhas já há bastante tempo. Nenhuma ilha em particular, só sonhos… Além de sonhar com ilhas, tenho andado a trabalhar numa tradução e sentido falta de tempo para mim própria. Às vezes sinto-me tão cansada de fazer exercício que tenho de sacrificar o tempo de ler e escrever para dormir um merecido sono!

A Room and a Skirt

 

What can a girl like Seabell do when she selects a place for her Dream Holidays? She picks a house with a peculiar room, for instance. She is not superstitious and doesn’t believe in simple conclusions, but the fact is that sometimes she has to deal with strange phenomenon…

 

That room was occupied by Andy and JP, two strong boys who never complained before of a single nightmare. This once, and for consecutive nights, they had disturbing dreams, more than one per night, wakening at the same time due to them. The dreams involved people lost in the middle of fields, crying of sadness; women stabbing men and dogs; voices calling for them… For general amazement (and amusement), they stated these dreams over dinner, and the need to sleep during the day on the beach because of their sleepless nights. It was the first time they had a similar experience and they were almost sure that it all resulted from the room where they slept.

 

I have to tell that the description of those nightmares was one of the funniest moments of Seabell’s holidays. And I also have to tell that despite Seabell’s laugh, she is the first to recognize the singularity of some circumstances in her own life. Take for instance one of her wrap skirts. If it’s not a spirit playing with it, what can explain that every single time that she wears it something bad happens in her life? Why doesn’t she just throw it away? For two simple reasons: she likes the skirt and deep inside she doesn’t want to believe in ghosts.

 

Thinking of it, who wouldn’t like to own a ghost skirt? Or a pair of spooked earrings brought more than 10 years ago, but not yet in her possession (posts of 2007.02.25 and 2007.09.06)? Confusion and peculiar turns keep happening around this story, while she still believes that one day she is going to have those earrings back in her hand and call them hers, as it was supposed to be since the day she paid for them.

______________

 

To be true with myself, I have to admit that the place I picked added nothing to what dream holidays should be. Everything went fine, except for some aspects: 1) The dreams Andy and JP complained about involved my name and TD’s name. They could represent a transfer of our state of mind to them… 2) Since holidays, Andy has been really sick. 3) The place wasn’t good for my mind and my heart too. I found myself somewhere I’ve been before, taking decisions about completely different plans for my life. It was painful deep inside. It still is. 4) Since then, it has been difficult to stop the feelings of hopelessness and tiredness. The pain will go away, I know. I always hope that writing helps clear my mind and keep ghosts away. I have to undo my feelings again. Hard job has been living these past days! The aftermath of a never happened tsunami!

 

Physically, I shiver, I feel dizzy, like vomiting, with no appetite at all. Doesn’t look like a cold or flu. Stress? Emotional fever? Don’t get me wrong. I am not feeling that miserable! I even like to feel this way, because I know that inside of me there is a fight between the dreamer and the wise Seabell. I am glad it is like so. I am alive!

 

A little after writing the two paragraphs above, I learned that I am with an inflammation of the throat, just like Andy is. This happens with frequency when we have contact a particular person coming from Europe. I decided to keep the text just to remember how a mere physical condition can affect my mood.