Ruins of Dreams

 

By the end of the nineties and beginning of the new century, Mozambique experienced an incredible boom. People believed in the economy and invested all they could. Some of them even invested what they couldn’t: they went to the banks for capital and have been spending the last five years facing debt.

 

It is not easy advancing with the real reasons of such recession. They are many, but one of them has to be the existence of two different discourses towards the private sector: the words and the praxis.

 

So, what is left of the money invested in Mozambique during the turning of the century boom? Most of it disappeared: money, business and investor, all together. Some barely survive due to a weak alliance with the public sector.

 

But this is not an economical analysis. It’s just a note of how sad is witnessing the bankrupt of the private sector!

 

During the boom period there was a popular restaurant in Moamba, a small neighboring town. If you visit that restaurant, you will understand the meaning of this text. It’s perceptible that the owner of that restaurant had big plans. Today, those plans are only concrete ruins, emptiness and desolation. In that place, even cats and dogs seem to have known better times.

Road to Jozi

 

Somehow it’s a long road to Johannesburg, made yet longer by the delays at the border. It’s a wonder how all those bureaucrats are going to survive the abolition of taxes, when the unavoidable and desirable simplification of procedures arrives with the only market for the region.

 

This is a road far from monotonous, crossing the lowveld, mountains and finally the open plain of Gauteng, where Joburg is situated. The road stretches along a vast brownish extension of land, good for agriculture, industry and mining. This brown tapestry remains almost the same throughout the seasons, a clear sign of how rigorous winters and summers are.

 

One thing is for sure: if your imagination can fly, with such a road you’ll soon forget witch corner of the world you are really speed crossing. A German highway, maybe?

 

At the end of this road, like a surprise gift, lies a feverish, labyrinthine city. Arriving in Jozi is always like mooring alongside a well-known quay, where you meet old and new friends. Things don’t change. They only disguise themselves with different clothing. Just like life doesn’t change either. Life takes turns and invites us to go ahead or not. Nothing can ever change the way people do.

Barbecue Day

 

Saturday used to be curry, Brasilian feijoada or Tieta’s paella. Slowly, it’s becoming a barbecue day. Maybe these inviting sunny winter days, calling for outdoors living, can explain the change.

 

Sometimes we opt for mixed grills, but the tendency points to separating the subjects in three categories: 1) Fish, calamari and prawns. 2) Chicken. 3) Meat and sausages.

 

Because Paul is a veggie lover, there is always a colorful component to go with all the above. During this winter, barbecue has become our mid Saturday highlight.

 

We commonly use the word churrasco for barbecue. I have the impression that the word came originally from Brazil, where churrascos are quite popular. In Mozambique, the South African word braai is now widely spread.

Road to Macaneta

 

From Marracuene to Macaneta there is only a good stretch of dirty road, sometimes passable, sometimes a trap. Any Macaneta enthusiast has already experienced both, for sure! Because it crosses a swamp, when it rains the road almost disappears, changing its structure in such a way that makes it hard or even difficult to use.

 

Besides being a Russian roulette, this road extends across beautiful unspoiled rural sceneries. In terms of tourism, this road itself has a lot of potentialities, being a favorite among bikers. If it only existed a good safe parking for cars (it could be on the other side of the river), and nice transportation for the tourists from the ferry to the beaches, the interest would surely grow. It could be a service from the lodges, a private business or both.

 

This road also offers the possibility of contact with: 1) Country life – by transforming empty like farms into something more interesting. 2) African rural ways – by opening a village and village houses to tourist visits. 3) People, mainly children – but that had to happen in different terms from the actual ones. 4) Commercialization of local products – some are already offered, but it can be improved.

 

A lot more could be said, but this is already a good start. Anyway, it feels like doing something for a place where no plastic bags fly around, yet – or any other kind of rubbish to be precise. A truly rarity!

Road to Marracuene

 

The road to Marracuene is pretty busy, stretching from one of the wildest open markets in Maputo all the way up to the north. Maputo to Marracuene is only 20km, but it can take you more than an hour of driving if you care about safety.

 

There were times when that road crossed a farm area, only with an occasional building here and there, signaling a farm, a warehouse or a church – typical country scenery! Nowadays, there are crowds, buildings and markets non interrupted. There is nothing we can do about it: except for the island Maputo is, with its buildings and well-planned streets, Mozambique has become a truly African country.

 

Witnessing that African way of life must be hard on Western eyes. Though, one day, it can even be proved that they are right: despite all the visible confusion and dirtiness, Africans are not the ones harming the environment.

 

Concerning this matter, I sympathize with the South African approach: allowing people to go on with their lives but within a certain order. All the easiness and carelessness in Mozambique, widely accepted with the excuse of extreme poverty, sooner or later is going to slap into someone’s face.

 

What I have to say is that an area supposed to be for farm productivity and related industries should be maintained like that, and not transformed into dormitory or endless dumbanengue. And if such alterations are unavoidable, then they should happen within a plan.

 

There is no significative vision for Marracuene. That cute village could well be a tourism and museum small town, without having to invest heavily to achieve it. And by the way, shouldn’t a place where Mozambicans fought the colonialism be declared historical and protected?

 

Over the last years, what we have been witnessing is bad taste constructions, empty ruins and the usual proliferation of barracas displaying all kind of stuff, mainly beer and soft drinks. Near the batelão, at least a forty years survivor, women sell fish and sundries without a proper place or shadow to protect them and the products they sell.

 

When the subject is Marracuene, there are so many things to do and so few resources or enthusiasm that the obvious question always is: why even bother?

 

Dumbanengue-street market

Barraca-tent to sell products
Batelão-ferryboat

George’s Theory

 

George has been working for two, now that Albert is in Zambezia. As a matter of fact, we all are – proving that we don’t have expendable hands here. Sometimes he is surprised to find some of the work done before his arrival, and he has strange ways of appreciation. Recently he showed it by acknowledging the existence of strong people: people never saying no to a job and people capable of persevering under difficult circumstances. No doubt he has strong ideas on this matter! The world, according to George, is divided in two groups: the group of strong people and the group of weak people. Presumably, he his strong, guard and philosopher!

 

George is a rarity. He never says no to work and his versatility is amazing: security, cleaning, shopping, painting, mechanics, plumbing, electricity and a few more. He started working for Andy, when he had a small business employing ten people, one of them George. When we needed someone to replace another guard, we called him. The first week working for us, he was caught stealing gasoline from the cars. We had two options: immediately send him away or keep him. We decided to keep him after he agreed to sign a paper where he confessed the stealing episode. We explained that by signing it he would never forget. It worked! He never stole again and became our best, faithful worker. Imagine if we condemned him for that first mistake!

 

George’s last daughter is a mystery. It seems he is hiding her from us. Meanwhile, suspecting that she might be a special child, we have been trying to make her winter warm and colorful.

King of Fish

 

JP is not particularly found of fish. He eats it when he has to. It seems many fishermen are like this. His top proteins are: 1) Meat. 2) Chicken. 3) Eggs. 4) Prawns. 5) A few other shellfish. 6) Fish.

 

The only thing we have against fish is the smell and the mess, especially because we don’t get it usually in the fishmonger. Coming straight from the sea to our backyard, there is no doubt concerning freshness – but what a strong stomach you must have! Usually it is one of our guards gladly doing the job, because they keep one fish for themselves or at least the heads – used for a traditional recipe.

 

Occasionally we get a few different fish, though we could live just on king mackerel, a fish only existing in the southern hemisphere. Why do we like it? It’s clean and versatile. With it we can do almost anything, though we particularly like it in fillets. The taste of its flesh varies a little with place and season.

 

It is the fish with more commercial value around here. This pelagic fish is known for its huge size. The average weight of the available king mackerel in markets is 5 to 10kg, but when JP is our supplier it can reach more than 30kg. JP has been close to the international record a few times, what means near the 34kg mark.

 

In terms of seasons, we are not very particular. This king tastes usually good! In terms of areas, I can say that we like the king mackerel coming from Závora, a beach near Xai-Xai. We have good memories involving king mackerels from Závora. Maybe one day I’ll write about them.

Record of Dive-2

 

JP’s holidays are almost over. Because of that (and a few others aspects), this has been a sad week for us. There is an atmosphere of senselessness about road accidents unlike anything else. Though, as a consequence of new things happening or about to happen, there is also a sense of excitement lingering.

 

Date of Dives: 12 to 18 of July.

Dive Locations: Angola, France and Mozambique.
Type of Dive: bell bounce.
Maximum Depth: 200ft.
Breathing Mixture Used: thin air.
Weather Conditions: sunny and cold.

 

Divers & Jobs: Andy learned that his construction project has been rejected due to a technical aspect, and now it’s starting from scratch; Jo calls from time to time, mainly to speak with JP; Paul has been busy diving for words; JP celebrated the first weekend with a big bite in his assets, even so, the size of that bite is nothing compared with the one left after the second weekend – and the irony is that the accident wasn’t drinking related but raining related (aqua planning); I believe NB, the divorced diver, is still in Angola; After Belgium and England, TD must be now in France: Vic and his Ponta do Ouro diver-brother met with JP during the week.

Tafula

 

Some words are a pretty curious thing. If I had time I would write about a few I know. Take for instance tafula. It is a musical word, used in most of local languages, meaning table. It’s not an original African word. It was imported from the English word table and the way I see it that story is quite interesting.

 

If you visit a common Mozambican house, you’ll discover that people don’t have furniture as we know it. This is not entirely truth in the cities, but in the countryside is still the norm. The most precious possessions for an average Mozambican family are: 1) Straw mats used for sleeping, eating, sitting, talking, receiving friends… 2) A pestle and at least two pans. 3) Jerry cans used as water containers. 4) Clothing. 5) Radio.

 

As you can see, no tables at all! Now the strangeness of this story is that throughout almost five centuries of Portuguese colonization, the word mesa wasn’t absorbed by any of the local languages. Why? In my opinion, due to two main reasons: a) Just a small percentage worked inside Portuguese households and had contact with tables. 2) Tables were something belonging to the Portuguese, not used by them. Why transport to their daily language a word referring to something they didn’t have?

 

A century ago, when the emigration flow to the mines started, the circumstances changed: A) A great number of magaiças (name given to Mozambicans working in the South African mines) went to South Africa where they had contact with tables. B) Eventually, they had to use them and as consequence tables became part of their lives.

 

How table was transformed into tafula, that’s another story. A lot of tongue twisting? Whatever the process, tafula is now a word spread out across Mozambique.

Announced Violence

 

Two days after the tae bo class alert to the crime rising, a spectacular shooting scene took place in downtown Maputo. Someone was held up by a group of gunmen and forced to give them all he had with him at the time. This happened in his office, during working hours. The armed response was a little slow, but eventually it did happen. From it resulted: a passing woman hurt by a bullet that hit her leg, the death of one of the gang members and at least the arrest of another. All this because of a little more than 300USD!

 

If this is a reflex of the presence of criminals expelled from South Africa, in the near future Mozambique could well have the cleverest crime force in the whole world because of the creativity they will need to survive round here. In fact, having in mind the different quantity of money circulating in South Africa and in Mozambique, they will have to do their best or return to the chicken picking pattern.

 

Violence seems to be growing everywhere, at the same rate prices and  speculation grow. A lady was recently kidnapped while walking with her husband on the Marginal, almost in the same place a still missed digital camera was stolen less than a year ago. After gathering the ransom money, her family could have her back. Crime paid off, so extra precautions are highly recommended from now on.