To Lichinga, Namaacha, and Maputo

After almost two-and-a-half years of living and working (i.e., volunteering) in Africa, I’m back in the states.  I’ve actually been back in California for almost a month now.  And still, I’m recovering from jetlag.  I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, though, wondering where I am, where the crowing roosters have gone, or the humming of electric fans, or the loud hotel air-conditioner.   

It’s interesting to re-experience a bit of (reverse) culture shock.  It’s almost like the first time I came to the U.S. in November, 1990.  The cold and the quiet, the speedy freeways and sterile suburbs.  I’m being a critical grinch, I know.  I have enjoyed and am still enjoying my visit.  I finally met my 2-year old niece.  Saw and hung out with a few friends.  Spent a great deal of time with family.  That’s mainly what I wanted to do.  To re-connect.  I was just commenting on how “home” doesn’t feel like home.  I love my friends and family, but, unlike many “RPCVs,” that’s not enough to keep me here.  If I’m going to be honest with myself.    

Now, this blog is about Mozambique and Cape Verde, and other experiences of living and working outside of the states.  It’s about an expat’s life.  It’s also mainly a retrospective, a digital scrapbook of sorts.  And since I’m still in the thick of things here, I’ll just write about last month’s events, going to Lichinga, Namaacha, and Maputo.

The night before I left I had my last dinner with fellow expats.  It was a wonderful despedida with Kenny, Carla, their kids Eddie, Deacon, and Cameron, as well as other Cuambanos, Millie, Rich and Zacharia.  Alexis from Metarica and Jamie B. from Mecanhelas also visited, making the evening delightfully different from our director’s despedida, waving to us as he drove past, leaving us in the wake of dust and exhaust fumes from his pick-up truck.

I left Cuamba (for good, as my sitemates would say) on November 13.  Lucky Wednesday the 13^th, I thought, when our chapa broke down—the front axle twisted beyond repair—in the middle of nowhere. As we waited watching the driver try to “fix” the vehicle, I recalled horror stories in which volunteers actually had to sleep in a ditch by the road, stranded overnight.  A few moments later, the chapa driver got a boleia from a car passing by, and he took off to Mandimba to fetch another chapa.  I asked another passenger, a friendly Nigerian, if we all trust the guy to just fugir with our money, with all the chapa fare.  And he said, Well, we have his chapa here, so he has to come back.    

As it turned out, we only had to wait for about two hours.  The driver returned, and we all packed into a smaller chapa.  I lost my front seat, but was glad to be on our way.  We reached Lichinga, smeared with dust and sweat, by 3pm. 

In Lichinga I got to spend some time with Jade, Matt J., Victor, and Grisha, fellow Niassomes whom I scarcely see enough of.  Jade was a terrific host, welcoming me to her house and introducing me to her Mozambican friends.  Though I didn’t get to meet her special friend, I did finally meet Matope and Maningue, who made me seriously consider getting a cat next year in Chimoio.  I would post the Lichinga photos here, but for some reason blogspot is not letting me insert any pics.  I also lost a bunch of pics from my crappy camera, so I’m asking Lichingles to send me photos.  Please.

It was also great meeting Pele, the Swedish forester.  Hopefully he’ll still be in Lichinga the next time I’m up there.  And Grisha, prepare yourself for a re-match.  Even if it is your version of chess, a shot of whiskey per piece taken, I’ll be ready.  Game on, my Russian rival.

Matt J. and I left Lichingles for Maputo on the 16^th of November.  We met up with Bro-Eric from Zambezia, and then later (much later, due to LAM) with Helen from Tete.  By the way, Helen, I’m drinking Erdinger as I write.  Finally.

Believe it or not, I haven’t been drinking here as much as when I was in Moz.  Or rather, I should say, as much as when I was in Cuamba.  I’m sure there are a number of factors for this ebb and flow of alcoholism.  The weather, for instance: winter here makes me drink less beer, tropical summer there makes me drink more.  I would drink more red wine here, but alas, two-buck-chucks are no more.  See, the volunteer stipend is another factor.  And then there are my puritan parents and older friends with families.  Though, Colin, I did get to try a bottle of that Argentinian Malbec wine, which is now my new favorite.  My folks wouldn’t drink, so I did it all for them.  Still, I’m drinking less, believe it or not. 

While Eric W. and Matt J. stayed in the capital for Science Fair commitments, Helen and I left Maputo for Namaacha to participate in Moz21’s Pre-Service Training.  The short and easy chapa ride was lovely.  The cool climate, and Namaacha greenery were lovely.  It was all so very different from the north.  The then-trainee, now new PCVs of Moz21 were also very different, and also very lovely.  And very young overall.  Or they’re not young, I’m just an old geezer.  It’s really just a matter of perspective.    

I observed the new PCVs giving lessons during model school.  They were all very nice and appreciated my comments.  They know their real teacher-training will happen at their schools, in their classrooms.  I also met the two PCVs replacing me and Zackaria at the IFP in Cuamba.  Sam and Caitlin, I look forward to seeing your badasses in the north next year. 

Namaacha made me realize that I finally left my site.  It was a feeling of being out of place, and cut off from the Cuamba boys I had come to depend on.  Despite the fun of meeting and hanging out with new PCVs, thank goodness for Eric W., Helen, and Matt J., whose peer support helped move me through a vulnerable time.  Though Matt, you know you and I will be duking it out again in chess.  No mercy, macdaddy.

We left Namaacha Saturday, November 23^rd, and back in Maputo we hit Café do Sol once again for milkshakes and sweet cakes.  Actually, I think I had a burrito with my milkshake, which wasn’t the best combo, but still delicious.  We had dinner at a great Thai restaurant, and it would’ve been a perfectly chill evening if I didn’t lose my phone.  Mac was kind enough to accompany me back to the restaurant that night to see if we could still get the phone.

I guess I was off the grid for a couple of days, more than I usually am.  All the stores were closed the following Sunday, and then after that I had to juggle COS affairs, medical, dental appointments, etc. with getting a new phone.  I did get a new phone and my old number, as some of you know if you received my random Turkey Day text message.

That week in Maputo was busy with a lot of walking and going to appointments and checking out new restaurants.  Let me just applaud former Moz CD Carl for hosting a dinner for us.  Even though I wasn’t COSing, I still got invited.  Another highlight was meeting Jonathan’s lovely sister, Kelsey.  We had an awesome lunch at the seafood market, thanks to Yuri, man of Maputo. 

Maputo is a great city, and I’m glad I got to know it better with some superb people.  I’d like to check out the Jazz club and the Karaoke bar that Bro-Eric and Macdaddy Matt were raving about.  I get back to Maputo on the 29^th.  That’s 23 hours of fly time, and then about 12 hours of layovers through 5 airports—San Jose to LAX, then to Heathrow, then Joburg, then finally Maputo.  Sheesh.  It was one hell of a trip getting here, now let’s see if I can make it back. 

But before all that, happy holidays, everyone, and feliz ano novo.