Life and Death in Maganja

The cockerels Adelson bought were subsequently left closed in an outhouse for a week 'to accustom them to their new surroundings' and a few days ago were killed, having never been let out. They are now in the freezer. You know I'm not precious about animals, but i did feel that this was a bit unfair.

Other than the trip to Muzo, Stebba and I have been getting accustomed to life in Maganja da Costa. We are locked in a constant battle with ants, who get inside bread and attack our special biscuit supply. We've also had a scorpion, lots of spiders, strange flying creatures, something that looked like jimminy cricket (scarily human-like), and more cockroaches. You'll be glad to know that I'm not as freaked out by them as before, although was disgusted to see 2 cannibal cockroaches eating a friend of theirs, who was still alive. I have killed lots of insects. Pablo (an ActionAid person and our neighbour) constantly tells us off for destroying the circle of life, which we feel a little hypocritical coming from someone who enjoys killing chickens and who's eyes light up when they talk about blood spilling from a chicken's neck.

Stefania knocks on the bathroom door to scare away spiders etc and periodically wakes up throughout the night to shine her torch on the walls and floor to check for animals. I must confess that i look under the toilet seat for poisonous spiders and other things.

Other achievements worth noting. Stebba has climbed the mango tree outside the house (standing on my head to get up there). I carried a bucket of water on my head, much to the hilarity of the 50 people watching me. It really isn't easy, especially when you haven't been carrying heavy things on your head since you were 5.



We're in the process of buying a house and we're writing a proposal for a new women's project in the district(more about that next time).

Muzo

The contract for the job has still not arrived from the head office. However it was definitely the right decision to head to Maganja da Costa as opposed to sitting around in Maputo or Quelimane.

Even though we are not yet official employees of ActionAid we were invited to go to the field by Adelson. The locality of Muzo is approximately 80km from Maganja and is really remote. No longer can we complain that we are isolated after visiting that place.

The narrow road was in bad condition after the heavy rain the night before and we occasionally went off road through trees where the road was impassable. Children ran to the road screaming and waving when the car approached and women stood watching at the side of the road wearing only a capulana tied round their waist. Stebba and I have tried to find the logic in the fact that we have to have our knees hidden from view, yet women can go topless. Much as we try to adapt to the local culture, we decided that baring our breasts might not be a wise move.

We stopped briefly and the car was swamped by dozens of people appearing from nowhere. Lots of curious children and terrified babies and women with little scars all over their chests and faces in patterns from the traditional healers (or witch doctors). We picked up two local men that were involved in the ActionAid project and went to visit the machamba (moz word for field). The road deteriorated quickly and there was a debate on whether we should continue by foot. The driver decided that the car was a better option than walking 7km in the drizzle. One of the locals assured us that the road was frequently used by cars - when asked how frequent was frequent he replied 'very, there was one car last month'. Stefania and I began to face the prospect of sleeping a night in the bush. The 7km took nearly and hour, which included 20 minutes of being stuck in a ditch and getting filthy pushing the car in ankle deep mud.




We visited the machamba, which was not ready for planting, and shortly after began the meeting. We sat on under a thatch canopy with members of the community involved in the project, and everyone else who wanted to hear what was going on. This included four little boys who had followed the car for 7km by foot. I doubt the average 8yr old in Europe could run that.



There were some children playing with bicycle tyres with enormous swollen bellies from malnutrition, and two little boys, about 2 years old, hitting each other with knives. (No wrapping up children in cotton wool here!) You can just about see the knife in the hand of the boy in the foreground of the picture. Mostly they sat very quietly at the meeting, listening to what was going on.



The meeting was in Portuguese and then translated into the local dialect. Whilst most people in the country speak Portuguese, in the very rural areas they don't. ActionAid is providing seeds for this community and those involved in the project will work collectively on the machamba and will have food and a small source of income. It all has to be monitored very carefully so the seeds don't end up in market the following week being sold for immediate profit.



It was nice that Stebba and I were introduced to the people and I was very impressed with the way that Adelson spoke to the community. He was very clear that things had to be done the correct way, but he was also making jokes with them and they were laughing and seemed to really respect him. After contracts had been signed we were offered cashew fruit and boiled cassava, and were given a live chicken and some maize flour to take home. Cashew fruit is really strange - it's quite bitter and stings the bag of your throat, there's something similar to an apple about it, but it really is unlike anything else.



We headed back, this time bringing some extra people to help push the car. Adelson decided as no one would sell him a pig, he would buy some cockerels off an ex-Renamo fighter instead. (see picture in next post) We waited as two men ran around the bush trying to catch the most attractive cockerels, and they were tied up and put in the back of the truck to endure the bumpy 80km ride home.

The trip to the locality of Muzo was really quite eye-opening. The thing that amazed me is how good humoured these people seemed who have so little. I'm not so naive that i think they are happy and content, but it made me realise how much fuss we make over hardships that pale in comparison.

To Malawi and back

After trying and failing to sort out visa issues at Quelimane immigration, we set off to Maganja da Costa (having had just over an hours notice to pack and say goodbye to our host). We had barely been in Maganja for 24 hours when we set off for the Mozambique/Malawi border via Mocuba (with 10 minutes notice).

We spent a hugely entertaining evening in Mocuba with a friend of Adelson's. We met a man called Shamir from Zaire who told us his life story (jail in angola, drug addict children, sex hungry black women, evil ex-wife, tears, the works) and about the conspiracy theory that the freemasons invented AIDS and hid it in polio and TB vaccinations to rid the world of 2 billion people in developing countries. Never a dull moment.

The hotel was slightly expensive, but we were thrilled to have running water and air-conditioning. We spent half the night looking for a mysterious beeping sound, and trying to get the a/c to a comfortable temperature. Despite this we arrived fresh faced at the chapa stop at 5 a.m. to continue our journey to Milange, the border town.



The first chapa was already full, so we waited for the second one to fill up. By 7.30 it was already ridiculously hot. We sat in the shade on a bit of cardboard and at 9a.m. 26 people were crammed into a minibus designed for 15, and 4 chickens were thrown in for good measure. Four hours later we arrived, sweaty and in desperate need of coca cola, in Milange. We jumped on taxi bicycles for the 3km to the border, still in desperate need for coca cola, stamped our passports at the Mozambique border post and walked to Malawi. The jolly, fat Malawian made a huge fuss about the fact we just wanted stamps and didn't want to go to the country, and asked for 'a little something to buy fanta'. I told him that I was not going to pay a bribe for his 'express service' but if he wanted a fanta i would buy one for him. 4 bottles of fanta later, our visas were valid for a further 30 days and we headed back to Milange.



No chapas were leaving that day for Mocuba so we checked in at Pensao Lili for the night. The room was filthy and there were a few dead cockroaches on the floor, and a few live ones. The owner thought our disgust completely irrational and caught the enormous cockroaches between her thumb and forefinger and crushed them, laughing hysterically at us. After killing about 10 we set off in the search for more coca cola.



Apart from fending off the usual barrage of admirers (this time we pretended i didn't speak english- cue stefania laughing at my attempts to communicate in icelandic for 20 minutes) and waiting hours for our chicken, only to discover it was being killed as we waited, we headed back to pensao lili, slightly nervously.

I can't describe how disgusting our room was on opening the door. There were cockroaches crawling all over the beds, inside our bags, in the sink - this time even the owner was freaked out and we demanded a new room. Stefania and I woke up periodically through the night to shine the torch around the room, and screamed everytime something (i.e. the sheet, a piece of hair) brushed against us.

Over a week later, we still have not come to terms with the cockroach hotel room.

Up at 3.50 for another 4 hour chapa back to Mocuba. Fewer people, but 10 crates of chicks, and a flat tire for 100km.

We spent another night in Mocuba and eventually on Sunday at 7a.m. we arrived back in Maganja da Costa. So, despite being reassured by Immigration in Quelimane that it would be a round trip of 4 hours, it actually took us 4 days.

Back to Quelimane - Gin & CheasNaks

Coca Cola being loaded onto a bicycle.



Boredom sets in - Stefania and i resort to drinking gin and tonic out of plastic bottles and eating MSG-laden snacks.

Zalala Beach

Zalala beach is 30km from Quelimane, and you pass the biggest coconut plantation in Mozambique. Spent two days there, drinking beer and eating chicken, surrounded by thousands of tiny crabs and a few large ones.