City Buskers

 

Now and then I photograph street musicians. Most of the time, Maputo musicians hang around the Miradouro walk.

 

Recently, while in Johannesburg, we spent a great deal of time in a place where South Africans artists play for food or notoriety – if there’s a difference… It’s quite interesting that amalgam of beggars, poets and performers.

 

Strange as it may seem, in Maputo, where beggars grow from trees, we can only find poets and musicians on the streets. They only beg for a better stage than Mozambique is right now.

 

I met a pair of them recently. One of them writes and the other plays guitar. They talked to me of how hard is to follow such ungrateful road: the lack of incentives, the inexistence of a market… Still, they keep playing and writing. Sitting on hard steps, they are buskers of a different kind. And what a soft heart they all have!

Winter Dancing

 

Andy has been learning the difference between club dancing and serious dancing. He doesn’t seem to enjoy the process, but he is persevering – thanks to a few shoves!

 

I guess he concluded that he could dance from the inconsequent shaking of his butt in some bar, after a couple of drinks. Wrong! Try learning one of the known dance styles and you will see what sweat and tears is: from posture to steps, from dedication to iron will to keep going, dancing it’s all about hard work. Maybe you will also discover if you are really talented. If you aren’t, don’t give up. More than a few steps of dance, that’s the lesson Andy has yet to learn.

 

Andy’s favorite dance partner is a full of joy fifties something lady, mother-in-law of the dance teacher. He skipped two classes and now he must be missing her effusiveness. Sure thing!

 

Speaking of dancing, recently I read about a “silent rave” (people gather to dance together listening to their tunes of choice via individual headphones), organized not far from here. It was supposed to be an opportunity of dancing in a secure environment. Well, three groups (of 10 to 15 each) showed up. According to the commentator, there was a glorious moment when one of the groups moved and grooved “in clean, white silence”. For the rest, what seems to stand from that African translation of an overseas craze was the instant someone, unable to hear the warning shouts, got hit in the head by a flying frisbee!

Coconut Chicken

 

Chicken can be a little boring, especially because my divers only enjoy the barbecue version. They tend to complain about all the other options planned to avoid monotony: fricassee, stew with petit pois, creamed with mushrooms, coq au vin, pasta chicken, rich tomato sauce chicken with polenta, and a couple of others escaping right now.

 

I guess it was the boring factor making Andy step from his usual lamb or barbecue marinades to venture a new chicken dish: coconut chicken. That’s a very Mozambican way of preparing the chicken for barbecue, here called Galinha à Zambeziana or Zambezian Chicken.

 

Above all, Zambezian chiken is a clever way of using available local ingredients. Clean and cut your barbecue chicken the way you like. Rub it well with a paste of crushed garlic and salt. Piri-piri or pepper is optional at this stage, because you can dip your chicken in piri-piri sauce while you eat it.

 

Break a fresh coconut to get the white part and grate it in your blender, adding a generous portion of hot water. You can also add the coconut milk, if present. From that coconut paste you have to obtain a milk-like liquid. When cold, you will cover your garlic chicken with it and leave the chicken soaking overnight or at least a couple of hours. You can also use the coconut marinade during the grill process, with a kitchen brush. The chicken obtained is unusually tender and moist. It’s nice the contrast of the sweetness of the flesh and the very hot sauce served with it.

Spring in Marracuene

 

Isn’t it curious when someone or something shows us aspects not entirely perceptible to our own eyes?

 

Recently, we returned to Marracuene for a short stay. Because we all were craving prawns, we headed for the restaurant near the batelão (ferryboat). As it turned out not to be prawns’ season, if we really wanted prawns we had to buy them outside first, on the street: expensive prawns coming from some industrial freezer in Maputo… No, thanks!

 

We still had a few options left, but in the end we didn’t like anything selected from the set menu. The owner wasn’t present and, in Mozambique, when it’s owner day off the quality decreases to half or even less.

 

Anyway, food was only one of the reasons to be there. At the end of the day, pictures showed us something we couldn’t realize with our naked eyes: spring is already shinning in Marracuene!

The Weight of a Word

 

If you have doubts of how politic divides people, you should go to South Africa today. Being pro or against Zuma is an option everybody seems to have made, as we recently concluded while talking with a few Jozi enthusiasts and detractors.

 

Despite all said and done, some still cannot understand Zuma’s popularity. It looks has if the same tide putting Chavez and a few others in power has reached these Southern coasts.

 

We all have to agree at least in something: Zuma makes people talk and write! They give their opinions freely, be it on the streets or newspapers, sometimes with curious arguments or titles, like for instance in “Why Mickey Mouse Would Be a Better President Than Zuma”. Though opinions diverge, the main thing has always to be the freedom of expressing them – especially remembering the Zimbabwe effect!

 

In terms of Zuma’s popularity, a different wind sweeps the neighboring countries. Here, if you ask someone’s opinion, prepare yourself to hear something like: “Zuma é o dono da xenophobia!” or “Zuma owns the xenophobia!” What people are saying is that Zuma is responsible for the recent violence against foreign citizens living in South Africa.

 

The thing is that the word xenophobia is traveling faster than its meaning. The word itself remains somehow obscure and connected to the circumstances that made it sadly popular around here.

 

The other day someone gave his personal hindsight during a local TV program: “Xenophobia? I am not sure, but I think it’s worst than HIV!”

 

So, for some Mozambicans, xenophobia is worst than a fatal disease. Not good for Zuma!

Teacups!

 

I’ve just finished a fiction book dealing with gipsy wisdom, magic and witchcraft. I wasn’t impressed at all, but I couldn’t realize why until something happened…

 

Seemingly, a woman from Gaza province, in Mozambique, gave birth to three colorful teacups. Three empty, used teacups! For more than a week, every single Mozambican has been discussing the wonder.

 

In terms of magic, the African version is much more fun and imaginative. It’s also quite interesting how this type of nonsense spreads and moves people around here, some of them not even aware of the Olympic games in Beijing!

Orange Flavor

 

Though it’s difficult to conclude witch is the right time for oranges due to systematic importation, there are plenty around now. So then, orange juice and other treats are on the order of the day.

 

Someone who tried an orange cake complained recently that she couldn’t get the orange flavor she wants. I guess oranges are not all the same and because of that the final result can vary.

 

Anyway, here are some ideas to improve your cakes “orangyness”: 1) Find oranges with the right scent and flavor. 2) Double the quantity of juice and/or orange peel. 3) Use a few drops of vanilla or orange essence. 4) Cover your cake with orange flavored dark chocolate. 5) And enjoy it!

Animal Words

 

If you want to hear the true sound of Shangana, I guess you can rely on animal words. This is a language permissive to influences regarding new contexts, due to a question of crossing with other languages during its natural development as an instrument of communication.

 

The above conclusion came from the characteristics sounds people do when pronouncing those animal words. The bestiary universe is very important in terms of African creativity. Animals are mainly present in tales, fables and proverbs.

 

As a curiosity here is a short list of animal words and a couple of popular says recurring to them, not including pronunciation because either it’s like written or very difficult to translate into current known sounds:

 

Homu – caw
Chinckama – sheep
Huku – chicken
Kondhlo – mouse
Mpalo or ndlhopfu– elephant
Mpfundhla – rabbit
Nsokoti – ant
Nkwahle – lizard
Ngwenya – crocodile
Nghonyama or nghala – lion
Mbzana – dog
Mamba – specimen of cobra, it seems the word came from here
Nkuku – cock
Mamgwa – zebra
Bsinyambana – bird
Chiyambana – little bird
Chipichi – cat
Mbuti – goat
Mhinsi – hyena
Yiñwe – fish

 

Well, the above must give you an idea of the richness of sounds. Now for the display of popular wisdom:

 

Risumu ra khele – Toad’s song. Meaning that you repeat yourself, you sing the same song (khele is toad)-
Munhu wo rhula i nyoka – The one that doesn’t speak is a snake (nyoka).
Mfenhe loko yi gugile a ya ha titshembi – Old monkey (mfenhe) cannot trust in his habilities.
Mhinsi yi famba ni wusiku – The hyena walks during the night. Meaning: bad things can happen during the night.

Até Muzuku

 

If you know the right occasion for showing off your skills, Shangana can be an open doors language around here. As usually happens with the majority sharing the same curiosity for this specific language, the sooner you are into it you’ll realize that there are words sticking to you and words that are hard to assimilate. Alas, the same seems to happen with other languages too.

 

If one had to organize a short list of easy learning Shangana words, the below four would be on it for sure:

 

Famba – means go.

Buissa – means give.
Kanimambo – thanks.
Até muzuko – mix of Portuguese até (see you) and Shangana muzuku (tomorrow).

 

So then, até muzuku!

Tale For the Lonely One

 

When did he discover that he was all by himself? He had been like that his entire life, but the realization of his loneliness came as a shock and made him cry. Since then he has been living with the awareness of how lonely he always was.

 

People existed and events unfolded around him, but he went through life as if nothing mattered. Maybe the irrelevancy of people, facts and things came from their inability in changing his state of utter loneliness.

 

With each passing year, he had grown indifferent to his loneliness. He knew about people fighting the same feelings, but he stopped wanting to change the state of things. He stopped being exasperated or hopeful towards other people. He mastered the contradiction of being alone in the middle of a crowd. He ignored the suffocating anguish.

 

His loneliness grew and strengthened inside of him, strangely becoming suave and familiar – as any old companion should. Those who let loneliness grew inside of him were only able to create an abyss between him and them. He absorbed it, without drowning. It all happened quietly. That’s when he started to find some peace within his lonely existence. No one ever knew or guessed how lonely he was, except for himself, the lonely one.