Dreamed Food

 

Go explain why sometimes we start dreaming about a particular food! It happened recently to me with crab curry. I knew that Coqueiro had it on the menu, but ten times I’ve been there, ten times I got a “Sorry, but no crab curry today!”

 

As hope is the last thing to die, I answered Coqueiro the moment Paul asked me where I wanted to have my Sunday lunch on September 21.

 

It was a windy day, bad for walking or even lunching out.

 

“You know, I had a dream about crab curry…” I said to the waitress, without consulting the menu.

 

“We have it!” she answered all smiles.

 

So, a week ago I had this perfect crab curry for lunch. It’s so good when we can realize simple dreams!

 

Proving that it was a proper day to stay at home, there was only another table occupied with six men. They gave me a good insight of what men talk when they are alone: 1) In-laws. 2) Suffering because someone’s club is always loosing. (Alas, I belong to the same club!) 3) Manchester-Chelsea about to happen match.

 

Afterwards, I had to wash my blouse, since napkins weren’t enough to maintain a reasonable distance between this dreamer and her dreamed food. Paul spent the entire week craving my curry and we repeated the same yesterday, with a difference: “Crab curry for two, please!”

 

Just tell me how can such bad looking guys be so tasty?

On Setting Boundaries

 

Sometimes I can read signs of repression in the way a person looks and reacts towards the opposite sex. That frequently happens with married people. So, I started to wonder if marrying is anything else but a form of oppression (oppressing each other).

 

It’s so easy to learn how healthy a relationship is by small things! We almost feel it and we are attracted to that happiness like a magnet.

 

I don’t like to generalize on the subject, since there is nothing more subjective than relationships, each case being a unique example. What I know is that oppression and unhappiness make one or both of the couple behave terribly. The list of horrors must be so huge I won’t even like to think about it.

 

Sometimes I wonder if I am repressive too… In what moment, in what way I’ve been like that? Are we repressive because we are or because we feel that the other half wants us to be like that? Do he or she wants us to set boundaries, like adolescents asked when they tried to explain their wild behavior? There are so many questions I cannot answer!

 

There’s a part of me telling one should never be oppressive towards any other human being’s desires and fantasies. Even recognizing it, we all have to know what we can and cannot take. In terms of setting boundaries, mine are erected where the privacy and wellbeing of my family begin. I think I would never accept or forgive someone using them for despicable purposes. It’s just a question of respecting someone by respecting the one(s) he/she loves dearly.

Husbands and Wives

 

The pace of divorce among some of our friends is astonishing. It deserves a thought, recognizing beforehand how little we all know about the intricate matters of the heart.

 

Judging from what we can witness around here, the numbers show a bitter pyramidical reality: loveless marriages at the bottom; divorces in the middle of the pyramid; and happy couples topping the far edge of it.

 

Does marriage has anything to do with love? That is a bold question. The answer could be: it depends. Love, contract, possession? The reasons are surely infinite. Why marrying then?

 

According to an article recently published by a South African newspaper, in which this post is partially based, people seek experiences and relationships. The balance between both (experiences and relationships) can explain the tendency to serial dating, marriage or affairs. It seems to me that the difference between men and women is all about numbers, as any healthy human being feels the need of both. Maybe women don’t have the same need for experiences because they come out of them much more dissatisfied. Their degree of frustration is far greater than men’s. Why then insist in experiencing, if they don’t bring anything different?

 

There is no doubt that a few flash marriages are more a consequence of the need of experiencing (married life and parenthood) than a true need of a long-term relationship. Because of this, those commitments were so short lived.

 

In terms of the opposite sex, your options are likely to be: if you are into experiencing, you end up being a serial dater and you just have to acknowledge it; if you opt for a steady relationship, you will have to marry or fit into a similar arrangement; if you opt for both, then you are going to have affairs.

 

There is no way to deny the right one has to experience, both men and women. The questions are: at what costs and with which consequences? Because, you know, at the end you are going to get caught. The cleverest you might be, chances are you will.

 

Some look at affairs as a way of salvation for worn out, long-term relationships; others, more prudish, look at them as immoral. One question stood out in a movie I recently watched: what is the greatest sin: taking a lover or putting your spouse in the position of taking a lover? In fact, there are always two sides for the same story!

 

Yet, for some people what makes any kind of relationship right or wrong is just the behavior of the two parts involved, having in mind that there are no known rules to follow. Right or wrong, success or failure, a relationship is just about “behavior that works and behavior that doesn’t”. Then, why not define relationships as a dance of two different behaviors?

 

The article on the newspaper caught my attention because of the reproduction of a author’s list stating the most common excuses for adultery, including: 1) Breaking out into selfhood: 2) Accidental; 3) Sexual panic; 4) Let’s kill this relationship (Russian roulette like); 5) Mid-marriage crises; 6) Moving on; 7) Heating up my marriage; F… myself; 9) Ejector seat (passport to a speed divorce; 10) See if; 11) Distraction; 12) Surrogate therapy; 13) Do I still have it? 14) Having an experience I missed out on; 15) Revenge; 16) Midlife crisis; 17) Unmet needs.

 

Then, the writer added a few others even more interesting: 18) Drinking; 19) Boredom; 20) I’m going bald; 21) I’m menopausal; 22) I was just being polite; 23) I want a baby; 24) I’m pregnant; 25) He/she was famous; 26) I wanted to try my own gender; 27) Everyone else is doing it; 28) I find it hard to say no; 29) I didn’t have enough change for the bus; 30) Because a new self-help book said it would save my marriage.

 

You just pick for yourself the excuse you would like to say or hear.

 

Getting serious again, a friend reading the above list of common excuses commented with a note of bitterness in her voice: “A reason for adultery? Being unhappy and trapped! I think both lists don’t contemplate the fate of those who are miserably unhappy and can’t or don’t have the guts to end up a relationship. Adultery is sometimes the only escape!”

 

Is there a time and a limit for experiencing? That’s a question difficult to answer. If you cannot control it, better face the consequences.

 

What is left when a relationship ends? Dust, tears, bitter words, a few broken dishes, packing, slamming a door, paying expensive bills to lawyers, splitting stuff, discussing who gets the children?

 

But there is also a sort of relationship so light, so tenuous, that can end up just with a couple of simple words: “It’s over!”

 

As for my friend’s believe, there’s always the other option: you can be unhappy without cheating or even planning to cheat. You won’t be alone for sure!

Record of Dive-3

 

After a period without reporting on divers and diving, maybe it’s time to update you…

 

Date of Dives: 7 to 27 of September.

Dive Locations: Angola, Johannesburg, Qatar and Mozambique.
Type of Dive: surface.
Maximum Depth: 40ft.
Breathing Mixture Used: spring air.
Weather Conditions: windy.

 

Divers & Jobs: Andy has been busy and doing fine; Jo finished a short period in Maputo and returned to Angola, where he is now; Paul is exercising a bit and still writing; JP returned to Qatar for a hard two months, since he is doing night shifts; As far as I know, NB is driving his boat to Ilha de Moçambique, where he will be for the next month or so, purely enjoying the dolce fare niente and a lot more the island and region have to offer. Maybe spearfishing too! Lucky diver!; Finally, TD showed up waving his second album and soon will be fulfilling a busy schedule of gigs and shows: Vic is also in Maputo, but we lost contact with him this winter. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a lawyer by now!

Saved by… Seabell

 

Traveling by road can be boring, hence the music, the books, the senseless pictures and a lot more. I’ve been there countless times!

 

During our Friday Johannesburg-Maputo ride, Paul was stopped – as usual –by the Metro Police (road police), because he didn’t respect a 80km limit sign. I spare you from the conversation that followed, between the road authority and my Fangio companion. I knew it would represent a long negotiation and the unavoidable fine…

 

I just wonder why Paul bothers to explain? It seems everybody does. The moment he was about to be knocked down by the fatal argument (Pay or else!), I just decided to beat the odds.

 

“Okay, we pay! But first you explain to us why we have to and not the hundreds or more before us, like the motorbikes I’ve just photographed overtaking us!” I said, at the same time showing one of the pictures taken.

 

Three of the policemen went to the back of our car and involved in a live, fruitful discussion. Live for them, fruitful for us… They let us go!

 

Paul was relieved and surprised with the decision. It’s not usual to see the Metro Police let their prey go!

 

We suspect that the police like to stop cars with foreign register plates, because they have to pay immediately. No excuses accepted! No third opinion! Later, Paul explained that all their arrogance goes away in front of the judge, just because, even with cameras, they are unable to present any material evidence of the excessive speeding. Could this be for real?

Cup Matters

 

It’s useful to be nice with owners and employees of lingerie boutiques, for women I mean. (Alas, this is a women friendly post – only.) That was my conclusion after living the episodes I am about to remember.

 

Two months ago I bought a very expensive bra. Buying made in France, while in Africa, is always very expensive. One cannot pay without a sense of guilt towards so many families living in a monthly budget below a French bra cost. Because of that, I created the disciplinary principle of not allowing myself such frivolities more than once a year. There’s plenty of nice options for just a small fraction of the almost US400 I am referring.

 

Nevertheless, talking twice with someone with bra wisdom turned out to be very enlightening, as I learned two important basics on that matter: 1) It’s crucial to wear the right size. 2) Even knowing that right size, one should try various bras, because of the differences from one model to the others. As a reflex of number 2, there’s no way to avoid the fitting rooms. One has to be prepared and decided to make it fun, but that is up to your own imagination.

 

Thanks to the assessment of my new lingerie friend, I learned that I’ve been using the wrong sizes. I’ve been faithful to my 32 measure, but my cup changed from B to C and now from C to D. According with a second bra guru I recently met, 32-D is an uncommon combination. If she’s right, I just wonder how uncommonly bad or good that might be.

 

When I told Paul that my bras were all wrong, he just commented: “You are getting fatter, for sure!” That’s not flattering! If I am, I don’t feel like that. It’s just 4kg plus, I usually explain by one weekly tae class less.

 

Back to the main subject! Decided to make the most of the unavoidable hardship of trying bra after bra, before paying for them, I discovered an all new meaning as a bra wearer: comfort. Who would tell how important measurement is! After that, it’s only a question of finding the right models. Now I’m learning to enjoy something I always avoided for various reasons. It was so simple just to look and ask: “Give me a 32-C!”

 

During my third bra trial I met a nice African lady, five or six months pregnant, very helpful to me. She kept bringing new styles, and giving me incentives to keep trying. As a reward, maybe because she was business-happy to see so many fitting properly, she commented how beautiful my cleavage is.

 

The moment I was paying for the models I had picked, I playfully gestured, to the shop lady-owner, the dedicated employee.

 

“She’s good!” I said.

 

The smile I got as a response told me the owner already knew that. So I added:

 

“She is good and she is expecting a baby girl!”

 

I didn’t have to see the nodding surprise on both faces to know I was right. I guess I always get it. As I found inappropriate to talk about Mbeki eminent resignation, somehow I had to show them that I am more than a cleavage.

Craving Fish

 

I wasn’t feeling like eating. Paul was. He stopped on our way up to Johannesburg countless times, either to eat or to drink. One of those stops had obviously to be the trout place, midway between Maputo and Joburg.

 

He asked for pancakes and rooibos. As he insisted, I ordered tea and a plain fillet of smoked trout, nothing else. Paul was surprised by my frugal fish request, but must have found it interesting because he ordered the same. My idea is that when we order in restaurants we always end up eating what we don’t want, so why not asking only for the food we really want? A bit like Sally in that movie you must remember…

 

Very soon both fillets arrived, all pink, clean and tasty, seasoned with seeds and lots of black pepper. After eating and paying, we decided to visit the next-door trout shop and buy two packs of the same smoked fillets. In consequence, we spent the next two days living on it, besides other fish like smoked mackerel and fresh salmon.

 

During our ride back we decided against stocking trout at home, since Maputo climate is too hot for that kind of fish. We were far from knowing the cold front about to hit Maputo, right after our arrival. Talk about instability! The person who gave masculine genre to the Portuguese word for weather (o tempo) has never been in Maputo, for sure!

 

So, when one day I look back at the third week of September 2008, I shall remember it as the strange period I craved fish.

City Camping

 

We arrived yesterday from TD’s refuge in Johannesburg, where we had been kind of camping since Tuesday. His minimal approach in terms of décor remains the same, despite some slight improvements making his life a little more comfortable. We tried to stay in a nearby hotel, but he insisted in lending us his half-bachelor’s bed.

 

We were heading for quite a shock when we discovered the hotel we used to stay in Joburg, a nice cozy place, transformed into a completely different construction: a cold, pseudo-modern example of architecture.

 

TD looked a bit serious and lonely without his band (and girlfriend), spending too much time in front of his computer. As we had only a meeting, Paul and I went on a shopping spree: he for supplements, and I for a dress to wear in a month time when a friend is getting married.

 

I didn’t realize I would have to run two half-marathons, on Wednesday and Thursday (patiently and chronometrically followed by Paul from comfortable café chairs), before I could find a dress with a little of what I had in mind. Along the way, I bought like ten casual dresses I didn’t need or particularly want, two pairs of dancing shoes (I needed and particularly wanted) and enough things to keep me entertained for a couple of months.

 

Anyway, we really enjoyed the moments spent with TD, namely our trout breakfast and his invitation for a sushi dinner, followed by cakes and tea shared with a couple of friends.

 

Despite the still predominant brown on the fields, during our stay and road trips there were signs of spring anywhere to be seen.

Sea Cockroaches

 

After a week or so in Maputo, TD is back to Johannesburg fuelled with the perspective of a heavy schedule of gigs, seventeen of them in Europe.

 

He is the kind family and friends miss. I’ll particularly miss our lunches together, be it at home or out, always an opportunity for him to develop his impressions and somehow funny extreme crazy opinions.

 

He had prawns during his first lunch with us, during which he presented this silly theory that prawns are sea cockroaches. I guess he likes to spoil others’ appetite, when he doesn’t straightly fight for the food we are I am particularly enjoying.

 

Over our Costa do Sol somehow disappointing Sunday lunch, we discussed the transcendental subject of what Mozambicans love best: piri-piri chicken, sex or beer? After the most absurd arguments you can imagine, TD ended up the discussion by saying: “Beer and piri-piri chicken must come first, because sex happens as a consequence of both!” See how wonderfully naughty he can be?

 

He has a favorite restaurant in Maputo. It’s called Coqueiro and he insisted in taken us there. It was a worthwhile gastronomic journey to Zambezia, one I have already described in a Monday post.

 

Maybe because he was happy to be there, he was kind of serious and talked about some of his traveling experiences. He referred to France as a nice, inviting country. Despite the usual problems, people are alive, full of joy de vivre, even if sometimes a rough one.

 

He talked about different European countries and people: those with a macramé web of social and economical questions to solve; and those where everything seems to run smoothly, where everything seems to be polished and everybody seems to be polite. Though, he pointed their lack of passion as a grand handicap. “Except for football, people show no other passion at all!” No doubt a daunting insight!

Old Houses

 

If you doubt that houses have souls, it’s only because you never sat and listened to what they have to say. I guess new buildings are a bit soulless, but old ones have plenty to tell.

 

The first time I had a “house messages” experience I was living in a very old one. I cannot imagine how many people livid in it before me. Anyway, during the time I was there I had persistent dreams I perceived as menacing. Later on I could understand that what I was regarding as a threat was nothing else but a warning of a danger about to happen in my life.

 

After the experience of living in thirty different houses due to my father’s erratic existence (profoundly irritating to my very sedentary mother), I’ve been living in the same house for a very long time. It’s an old house, so, as expected, it has a few things to say.

 

When I first came in here, moving from a modern apartment, I instantaneously had a very sad, oppressive feeling. I knew that someone living in this house before me wasn’t very happy.

 

Over the last years, through photos I found and accounts of people who knew the previous owners, I was able to picture their life.

 

There was only one couple living here before we moved in. They came from Portugal, during the fifties, to start a new life in Mozambique. He was a clever engineer and she was a gifted housewife. I guess that her restlessness started when she discovered she couldn’t conceive a child. Years later, her husband fell in love with a well-known Portuguese star who was in Mozambique for a couple of shows in the best hotel in town, the Polana – still the best up to this day.

 

She died before her husband, so I was right to feel that whoever was here before had a short, unhappy life. Her husband lived alone in this house for five years. During this period he must have time to realize how important she was to him and to this house, because he was unable to keep both running the way they should. We occupied the place a few weeks after he left for Portugal, where he died three years later.

 

In terms of this house, I feel that my family and I represent a bridge between previous sadness and future happiness. There have been children playing and laughing like mad within these walls. I am someone capable of being happy, even when facing adverse circumstances. We have been “cleaning” the bad omens in the house where we live!