The holiday in Mozambique was where I got Triple B – Burnt, Bruised, and Bitten. Don’t worry, the latter B was not from dogs, rats, or crocodiles, though I could’ve easily been their prey. I was the target of many blood-thirsty mosquitoes, probably carrying the malaria that kills so many people. Aside from the bites, I was definitely sunburned all around and bruised from the horrendous transport. And I’m going to tell you all about it! (Mom, don’t read this, because you might faint. Just kidding.)
Traveling to and from Mozambique proved to be more physically taxing than I expected. We literally spent half the time on the road trying to get somewhere (sometimes unsuccessfully). My friends and I started our adventure on the 20th at a volunteer’s house in a game park close to the border of Mozambique, where monkeys romped around the roof at night. We woke up at the brink of dawn the next morning, took a bike taxi in the rain, and took a vehicle to the road leading to the border. We waited for a few hours before a pick-up truck finally came and picked us up. After four hours of swatting away cholera-infested flies, mucking off the mud and rain off my face, and splashing through muddy potholes, we finally arrived at the border, only to find out that no transport was leaving this eerie border town. We were optimistic anyway, and luckily a nice 4WD came by and picked us up during the evening. After driving in the rain on a poor muddy road, we found a truck stuck in the ditch on the side of the road (a common occurrence during rainy season). We were unable to pass through, so we attempted to drive around the truck but ended up stuck in the ditch. By then, it was dark and a crowd of people were standing and shouting around the truck, so we were a bit nervous. Eventually, a group of men helped drag our car back out, and we attempted to drive around the truck again. We got stuck again, but this time, a tractor was able to pull us out of the ditch. The whole ordeal costed us another hour, and it was pretty late by the time we arrived to the next major town, Cuamba. Fortunately for us, our driver happened to own a hotel there, where we stayed for the night. (Unfortunately, we still had to pay for the room.)
We woke up not bright and early (4 AM) and headed off to the train station. When we got there, we found out that there was, in fact, no train going to the next major town, Nampula. And to encourage us even more, the locals told us that there were no chapas (pick-up trucks) going there too. By that point, we felt like our vacation was not working in our favor and were facing more problems than we imagined. We sucked it up and waited by the side of the road anyway. A few hours later, a large flat-bed truck came by and we hopped on. Let’s just say for the next 9 hours, any concept of road safety was completely thrown out the window. The first hour of that ride was the most uncomfortable ride of my life. Ever. I would classify it as the worst roller coaster ride, dipping into potholes, splashing through muddy pools, and almost flying off the side of the rail. We eventually moved closer to the front of the flatbed and sat atop tiers of light bulbs. How’s that for a “light” ride? ;) After two days of sleeplessness, I was able to nap at least a little bit… without falling off the truck.
We reached Nampula 8 hours later and camped out in a budget hotel for two nights. We intended to go to Pemba, but transport took too long just to get to Nampula. Pemba was another 6.5 hours away, which would not suffice just to stay for one night when we had to travel another day to our main destination, Ilha de Mocambique. So, we decided to skip out on Pemba and explore Nampula.
On Christmas Eve, we woke up at 5 AM and clambered into a minibus where 8 Zambia Peace Corps Volunteers were half-conscious and half-coherent. (If you thought we had it bad, think again. They traveled for 36 hours straight from Zambia covered in diesel, dirt, and rain!) For the next four days, we wandered around the island, visited other islands, slept in, ate awesome food (like seafood curry!), and hung out with the other volunteers. We were in a sunburned bliss.
The Ilha was also special in that it was the place where Portuguese explorer Vasco de Gama and the Portuguese had staked their claim. UNESCO dubbed it a World Heritage site, so the fortress, church, governor’s place, and other buildings still remain erected. Walking through the 15th century dilapidated buildings, in which trees were growing, people were living, and remote bars were secluded, was quite the anachronistic experience. This place was probably one of the remote tourist spots unknown to the world. There were so few tourists that we could experience the feel of the local life, yet there were just enough to feel like we were on vacation. I particularly enjoyed the ride in the dhow (sailboat) to the other islands, a unique Mozambican transport all on its own. One of the islands was so remote that I was sure that we would be living out “Lost” had our dhow abandoned us!
After four days on the island, we headed back to Nampula with the Zambia volunteers and two Dutch doctors with hopes of catching a direct transport back to Cuamba. We wanted to catch a train this time, a far better and cheaper option than the transport we took. After a week of getting different answers to our inquiries about the train schedule, we found the train station closed. And to add onto our frustration, we found out that the only day the train did NOT run was the very day we wanted to leave!
All we could do was stay for the night again and hope (since no one could give us a straight answer about anything) that there was a vehicle leaving the next day for Cuamba. We got up at 4 AM again (yes, you should be groaning by this point) and headed out to the dirt road leading to Cuamba. After waiting for a few hours and hoping (more like wishing) for a private hitch (perhaps in a hummer limo?) to come by, a flat-bed truck picked us up. It was smaller than the first we rode in but big enough to fit our party of 13. We sat through 9 hours of rumbling on a dirt road at 80 km/h in the scorching sun and eventually a short shower (this was when our rain gear came in really handy). The end result? Faces caked with dirt and mud, major back pain, bruises, and a fit of laughter. When we got there, we rode in another flat-bed truck for 4 hours to the border town, Mandimba. It was dark by then, so we stayed in a pensao (a local resthouse), where I didn’t get a blink of sleep.
We woke up – once again – at 5 AM and took off for the border. Once on the Malawi side, we were all able to breathe and relax again. After 8 days (yes, it seemed much longer than that!) of not being able to communicate at all in a Portuguese-speaking country, getting no straight answers to any of our questions, and experiencing hostility from the Mozambicans and their roads, we were all happy to be back in the “warm heart of Africa”. We appreciated Malawi even more for what it was. Mozambique was definitely a beautiful country with awesome food and culture, but it just feels good to be back in a familiar environment, the place that has been my home for the past year and a half!
I cannot sufficiently describe the experiences we spent waiting, the places we explored, the Triple Bs we incurred from our adventure, but I’ve attached a few photos for your viewing. The one of the beach is where I had written “Feliz Natal & Feliz Ano Novo, Dec. 2008” (“Merry Christmas & Happy New Year”). There’s one where I’m wishing you “Feliz Ano Novo” with the kids. :) And there’s one of the ancient Portuguese church overlooking the beautiful ocean.
So the moral of this story? Get your own car when going to Mozambique! Just kidding. I guess the lesson I’ve learned this Christmas is to appreciate every day for being alive and to be grateful. Just from being in Africa, I’ve learned to take challenges in stride, shrug my shoulders, and say “Zimachitika”. It happens. Even though we were frustrated from every challenge we faced, we knew things always worked out one way or another, and I was just happy to get somewhere alive and in one piece. I couldn’t help but laugh every time we hit a bump or mud splattered on our faces because it was a unique adventure that I would never experience elsewhere. Really, things could’ve been a lot worse. While rolling past the lush green foliage, the grassy huts, and the demure people, I remembered to be grateful for all the little things that were making my life better – the paved roads, the good weather, the kind people, the beds and roofs over our heads, the refreshing feel of a cold drink, the wonderful taste of seafood, the sound of waves crashing, the untouched shells, the rising sun… Life really can be so beautiful when you just sit still and watch it unfold before you.
Well, with that said (and a lot was said!), I hope you’re all enjoying the holidays with your beloved friends and family! I definitely miss the holiday atmosphere in the states, especially cuddling up in my blanket with a good book and cup of hot cocoa, hearing the Christmas carols, smelling the pine trees, watching the blinking Christmas lights… but I miss spending it with you all the most!
Happy 2009! See you in six months! :)
We're wishing you a Happy New Year!
The 15th century church on Ilha de Mocambique
"Feliz Natal y Feliz Ano Novo Dec. 2008"
The mothers and children tasting the soy milk and cassava chips
Fay, my co-worker's supercute kid! :)
