Wintering in Maputo

It is the dead of winter in Maputo and the locals are bundled up in hats, scarves and jackets.   I still sweat when I run  This does not bode well for the summer months.  When I talk about how nice the weather is, everyone says "just wait".  In all fairness to the freezing natives, it did reach an extreme low of 43 degrees the other night.  Someone was actually telling me he thought Maputo might get snow. It feels more like a desert climate - upper 50's at night and low 80's during the day.  It is odd to us that it gets light so late in the morning and dark so early at night with these kinds of temperatures.  When I talk about dark mornings and evenings, everyone says "just wait".  I expect to be sweating from 5 a.m. onward and waking up with the sun at 3:30 a.m. once summer arrives. 

Going to the dogs
Mozambiquans do not domesticate pets.  In fact, most are very scared of dogs.  Enter the expats who travel with pets at the same rate they travel with children.  Some claim the dogs are for security.  Some wealthy Mozambiquans seem inclined to follow the lead.  Our street has several homes with multiple dogs who compete at night for the canine version of American Idol.  This sign was painted on a fence of a home under construction (essentially "No dog poop").  There are more piles of poop outside this fence than the rest of the City combined.  Ironically, the fence now has a new sign: "Beware of the dog".

Just do it...
Given my heretofore rate of shoe destruction I invested in the hummer version of running shoes.  They claim to actually have concrete in the soles.  Two weeks and they are still in one piece but I am getting calf muscles the size of giant redwoods.  I am experimenting with some new routes and indoctrinating a whole new slew of guards in what crazy white woman do for fun.

The Maid, Part III
We received our first phone bill.  Since we have never touched the phone imagine our surprise with a $100 bill.  She seemed surprised we figured out she was making calls.  The kicker - when we paid her for June less half of the bill amount she asked "Was that bill just for May?"

Walking on the shore
Below are scenes from the beach.  It is very popular, particularly on weekends.  I know because the number of bottle caps and amount of broken glass rises exponentially by my Monday morning run.  There is a kind-of, sort-of paved walkway also used as a parking lot and vendor by-way.  Capalunas (material used to wrap as a skirt by Africans, tablecloths by expats), batiks, and empregada (maid) uniforms hang from gerry-rigged clotheslines.  Beer, soda, beer, bread, and beer are sold out of coolers.  We have also witnessed baptisms in the water. 

Up close and personal
And this is why we don't go in the water.  Explains why people want to be baptized when going in.

Born on the 25th of June
June 25th is Independence Day, the day Mozambique became an independent country and gave the Portuguese 3 days and 3 suitcases to leave.  This was a Saturday.  Music and drinking started about 1 p.m. on Friday.  Partying continued - LOUDLY - for about 36 hours and then everyone must have passed out.  I was told this is a family celebration day.

North by northeast
Carl was making a trip up to the north to visit volunteers and I tagged along for part of the trip to see another part of the country and visit Ilha de Mozambique.  The Ilha is a small island in the Indian Ocean that served as the capital for over 300 years as it was a critical juncture in the trade routes to the east.  It was heavily influenced by Goa as well as the Portuguese.  It has been declared a UNESCO site although apparently funding for rehabilitation has been expended and much still remains in disrepair.  There is a sizable fort and a Cathedral /museum that have been restored and it is easy to get a sense of colonial life from the remaining ruins.  The island is about 1.5 kilometers by .5 kilometers: half is the colonial side and half is "macuti town".  This is a bairro that sits a couple meters below ground level.  Macuti refers to the palms used for roofing.

 

How the other half lives
Here is a Peace Corps Volunteer's house. 

Here is a Peace Corps Volunteer's outhouse.

Nao falo portuguese
I started Portuguese lessons.  Now I can say "I don't speak Portuguese" - in Portuguese.

CIAO!  We are off to Capetown to go whale watching, wine-tasting and see our youngest son.

Back in the saddle...

So much for great intentions of posting every week or so.  I really meant every month or so...
However, there are excuses, some of which are actually valid.  Internet connection was capricious and arbitrary not only from day to day but from minute to minute.  Part of this is the technology status here, part of it is our location, part of it is the cable company gives priority to businesses who pay for a separate internet connection, and part of it requires paying your bill.  When the connection died completely the IT expert from Peace Corps came over.  Turns out we had not paid.  Who knew?  We never got a bill.  Which leads me to...

Mail Service - to be or not to be?  That is the question.
We have been told there is mail service.  People actually tell us they are mailing us things, like our passes to the fitness center that were supposed to come in 10 days as of 5 weeks ago.  The conundrum is: one post office in the City, no mail boxes for posting, no mail boxes at any residence.  Carl says they do get mail at Peace Corps.  Courier, carrier pigeon, hidden in the bread vendor's box?  Another Mozambique mystery.

Food preservatives are your friend OR Why I am Learning to Love Bananas
WARNING: Explicit Language

Food bought on the street has a short shelf life.  Actually, food bought in the stores has a short shelf life.  There are no preservatives and refrigeration can be limited and sporadic with power outages.  I now have personal knowledge of just how limited the life span.  Last week woke up feeling not well, became increasingly cold during the day and decided to make an appointment at the Health Clinic to check for malaria.  They told me it was probably one of the many viruses rampaging their way through the City streets.  Carl came to pick me up, took one look and marched me back in whereupon I promptly passed out, woke up spewing toxic waste and went into shock. The official diagnosis was "systemic contamination".  I had eaten something bad, it fomented into a wicked brew in the digestive system, spread throughout the body until it reached critical mass and had to be disgorged at lightspeed force.  Loss of minerals and dehydration caused shock.  Spent the next couple of days in the hospital/clinic with a an IV drip, swallowing potassium pills and drinking calcium and magnesium fizzies.  Have enough minerals in me now to be mined for profit.  Go back later this week for blood check but feel fine.  New rule of the house is no leftovers.  Eat it or leave it.

The hospital was a very small, seven room clinic that included heart patients, pediatrics, and the various sundry ill and wounded on one floor.  I was in a room with 4 beds but luckily the only person. The administrators contribute significantly to employment statistics as there was a ration of about 50 staff to every patient.  I am not sure I quite cracked the code on the hierarchy but know they were classified by color: red t-shirts. blue button down shirts, blue coats, white coats and scrubs.  The shifts changed once each day and night and I believe every person on each shift stuck their head in at least once so the door was opened and closed every two minutes.  However, the service was good and the building spotlessly clean.  Some young man cleaned the bathroom for 45 minutes twice a day whether it needed or not. One of my best moments was when a young doctor checking vitals and giving me one of the many rounds of mineral cocktails in the middle of the night asked me "Is this your first visit to Mozambique?"

The MAID
Our tenuous relationship continues.  She closes all the interior doors except those to the storage room and the pantry.  Maybe this is cleaning dyslexia.  She closed the security grates on the front door.  The front door is 2 inches of wood with 2 deadbolts.  The guard sits next to it.  Not a security risk.  When I asked her to open up she said she throught  I had the key.  I don't.  Entry to our house is now past the cisterns, the washtub, the mops hanging to dry on the clothesline, the guard's bathroom and through the back door.  We really need to entertain more.

Turning wine into water - if only
Water here is precious.  All our water for cooking has to be boiled first and we can only drink bottled water.  This is timely and costly.  We have actually left partially full bottles of wine at restaurants but we always take the water bottle. 
Maputo Wildlife
The series of required rabies shots prior and anti-malarial medicine gave us some pause prior to coming but to date we have had little cause for concern.  Only found lizards crawling on the dresser twice.  And woke up one night to a swarm of mosquitos on the inside of the mosquito netting.  Maybe we had it wrong - the mosquito nets are to trap mosquitos.  After a 15 minute battle we retook the bed.  Left the bloodstains on the netting as a warning against any new attacks. 

Honey stop the car!  Oh never mind, it is just another giraffe...
Really?  Two trips to the game park and we are blase about giraffes?  It is the Type A approach to game observation: check off all the animals on the list.  Impala, warthogs, monkeys, elephants, giraffes, and birds have made the list to date. Learning about scat versus dung.  Also a check-off list for that.

 


Urban Agricuture
Communities are tucked into any and all places.  The bairros are large, stable and true communities, not far off the main roads but well hidden from those who do not want to take the path less travelled.  Small subsistence farm plots also show up on any and all open scraps of land: along fences, the side of the road,  medians the abandoned race car track.  We have a corn crop at the end of the street.

Our "street".  Cornfield is behind the trees on the left.  Our house is behind the pine trees on the right.

Woman working her plot in the field behind our house - as seen looking over the electric fence.

Jack and Jill went up the...WHAT?

Kids will be kids is a universal truth.  Just across from us is a concrete culvert.  The children get pieces of cardboards and use the walls for skateboarding, sledding snowboarding, etc.  It is fun to watch them.  The downside is that I have seen what they are landing in.  They also get cans and bottles from the trash by the sides of the road, make a hole in the side and insert a cane stalk to make push toys.  It is fun to watch them.  The downside is that I have seen what they are walking through.  Many are barefoot, most are raggedy, but all seem happy.

Speaking of kids...

A picture of our grandson

Oh wait - talk about halfway around and upside down.  Here is a better shot.

And the winner of the the Tacky T-shirt Contest is...
The third world is the depository of all the tacky t-shirts to ever go in the Goodwill bag.  It makes for interesting reading while walking.  You will be amazed to know I saw someone who is part of the College Park, University of Maryland Academics Team!  Also a very dark woman who is a chocoholic.

Not Enough Stuff
Our air shipment arrived.  I was very excited as I had put in a new pair of running shoes, all my allergy medications, and a couple good pots and pans.  Here is what came: the top to the ice bucket, two wine coolers, Carl's coffee bean grinder and coffee maker, my aerobic clothes, and all of Carl's clothes and shoes.  In fact, I think he must have actually gone out and bought things to fill up the boxes.  I am not pointing any fingers but will just mention that Carl signed off on that shipment.  So we continue to cook with one small pot, one large pot, and a small pan - all of which I believe were rejected by quality control from the Dollar Store. 


Five weeks, five days.....