tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347968512024-03-19T13:25:56.424+02:00Charlotte in AfricaA thorougly unorganised nine month adventure in mozambiqueCharlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-86885484168035373192008-05-29T17:28:00.004+02:002008-12-13T07:55:06.838+02:00Alfred & Agnes Memorial Orphanage<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbW-p5IC8HP4JCZPmabYytBebCsUkkUEBZWKWFFmDDOXHPKk4QGkh88QHyJ4GO6Vjs9SRwqMLAYRip5idbTACFnqhqG86Z9Slwa6hgALSYJqjJTaSQCcKS7eY0xXV43gw0MKZ8Bg/s1600-h/brickmaker.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbW-p5IC8HP4JCZPmabYytBebCsUkkUEBZWKWFFmDDOXHPKk4QGkh88QHyJ4GO6Vjs9SRwqMLAYRip5idbTACFnqhqG86Z9Slwa6hgALSYJqjJTaSQCcKS7eY0xXV43gw0MKZ8Bg/s320/brickmaker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205823774884186498" /></a><br />I arrived in Liberia on Monday afternoon after a long and uncomfortable flight via Kenya and Ghana. It's very tropical here, beautiful, green and humid in the countryside and Monrovia, the capital, is in poor condition - dirty, chaotic with destroyed buildings, serving as a stark reminder that this country is only just out of a long and brutal civil war. <br /> <br />The orphanage is outside the city in a district called Brewerville, named after the large brewery producing the local 'Club' beer and Guiness. <br /> <br />The orphanage is called 'The Alfred and Agnes memorial' after the founder's parents- today their three great-grandchildren Jerome, Adonis and Evita run the place. Jerome is the main man who is full of wonderful ideas and has so much enthusiasm - the only thing holding him and the orphanage back is lack of money. Adonis is studying Agriculture at the univeristy of Liberia and has a nursery at the orphanage growing chillis and potatoes. They also have a plot of land 3 hours away where they want to grow more vegetables. Evita looks after the children and cooks for us - delicious food! They are a dedicated trio and deserve all the help they can get.<br /> <br />The builders have been working hard and have made 3000 cement blocks. Today (wednesday) they drew out and started digging the foundations of the clinic. The work is progressing fast and we are really pleased with the results so far. The builders are incredible. They work from dawn til dusk in incredibly hot and humid conditions.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-39245608974263972692008-05-21T19:16:00.001+02:002008-05-22T02:54:40.879+02:00Going back to AfricaIt's been exactly a year, and i'm going back to Africa, so it made sense to use this blog again. <br /><br />This time I am heading to Liberia on the West Coast of Africa. I will be in Monrovia with IceAid, a relatively new Independent Icelandic Development and Humanitarian Agency. In 2006 they rehabilitated the Alfred and Agnes Memorial Orphanage, and this trip we will be building a new health clinic. I don't really know what to expect from this trip, but i shall try and write about it as often as possible. <br /><br />The last few weeks have been crazy, trying to finish exams, and plan things for the trip. I also, with the help of a wonderful boyfriend and friends, planned a couple of fundraising events. <br /><br />It's now 1am, and i'm thinking about packing. I have to head to the airport in 4 hours. Ouch.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-14393546791444806762007-04-26T11:10:00.000+02:002008-12-13T07:55:08.095+02:00Maputo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRxU_m0EaEen3KeKLqA2JhRiurFCd6yrFiidG6kVqgp_yGirdNG-88vPIFqoLg_jVdy8afGBRIdSwTH6W6sgVyutiNOygLQKU_96Bq23ZzuED_wAHW9rJgnxGNSeQ6gUOeBfPVKQ/s1600-h/beach2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRxU_m0EaEen3KeKLqA2JhRiurFCd6yrFiidG6kVqgp_yGirdNG-88vPIFqoLg_jVdy8afGBRIdSwTH6W6sgVyutiNOygLQKU_96Bq23ZzuED_wAHW9rJgnxGNSeQ6gUOeBfPVKQ/s400/beach2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060242324216235282" /></a><br /><br />I'm in Maputo doing some work for ICEIDA, drafting their annual and biannual reports. My decision to come here was partly financial, but also was a way to prevent insanity. I didn't know how i would cope being in Maganja without Stebba, and thought breaking up the last couple of months would ensure i would have something to look forward to if it was difficult. <br /><br />Although it really isn't the same without Stebba, I have had a nice time. I've made more of an effort to speak to other people (I tried talking to my shortwave radio, but it didn't really work). Subsequently, my portuguese has been improving. That said, it's still shocking - i don't know how to spell anything, and i can only speak in 1st & 3rd person singular.<br /><br />Having been more sociable, I've finally been able to ask lots of personal questions we had been dying to ask since we arrived. They will need their own post to do them justice. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcoPM7K8sMT5oVfLjHxt7R-O-S6Mk8V0QBZLhNQaGHwp990nUo1cqlM5SBztqemi9rS0HVNaGHUANhy5QH9hWxYwa85-mnVO31-v1hv8A0pneAXIx_LTsNeTCcOv8eeMnQJUx7PA/s1600-h/beach.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcoPM7K8sMT5oVfLjHxt7R-O-S6Mk8V0QBZLhNQaGHwp990nUo1cqlM5SBztqemi9rS0HVNaGHUANhy5QH9hWxYwa85-mnVO31-v1hv8A0pneAXIx_LTsNeTCcOv8eeMnQJUx7PA/s320/beach.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060239064336057570" /></a><br /><br />I've been in Maputo for over 10 days and still haven't begun on the reports as no one in the office has started their sections. Have been keeping myself busy with writing an information booklet on ICEIDA and Iceland to give ICEIDA's partners and journalists here in Mozambique. I don't know whether the locals care about iceland's average annual rainfall, but the fact they (we) supposedly eat <em></em>hákarl<em></em> (putrefied shark) and <em></em>hrútspungar <em></em>(pickeld ram's testicles) will probably amuse them. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDGXpj8oX4r0TsNlgaePe2xRA1kZF2k4FULzHFzGMmXBJt5LPtCbrnfLeJFEzK8_Rthd84k6d9RPje69D3uFh2ShNaAPY93dloV02sIxbIRlA5sCuByUHlBhI4V4iY035j23HKQ/s1600-h/machamba5.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDGXpj8oX4r0TsNlgaePe2xRA1kZF2k4FULzHFzGMmXBJt5LPtCbrnfLeJFEzK8_Rthd84k6d9RPje69D3uFh2ShNaAPY93dloV02sIxbIRlA5sCuByUHlBhI4V4iY035j23HKQ/s320/machamba5.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060242878267016482" /></a><br />On sunday I went with Jói Þ and his wife Marcelina to their 'summerhouse' in Matola, just outside maputo. This is Jói and his friend Adam (who happens to be the head of the Mozambican secret police and someone you don't want to mess around with.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwyVmUdbtAD1lpFSP1qAOUaFoS4djcEovweVOByZ22shu4STNRn_xA_9qsWcjRk7nedasVf8RdenmXyAZHC3oBnMChf0LcWGcV8Xq7mn5EB3i6vMbvGyDdpGv8L2CTdLHmOPpRw/s1600-h/avo.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwyVmUdbtAD1lpFSP1qAOUaFoS4djcEovweVOByZ22shu4STNRn_xA_9qsWcjRk7nedasVf8RdenmXyAZHC3oBnMChf0LcWGcV8Xq7mn5EB3i6vMbvGyDdpGv8L2CTdLHmOPpRw/s320/avo.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060243887584331074" /></a><br />Marcelina's grandmother lives there. No one knows how old she is, but she remembers the british leaving south africa. My SA history is non-existant, but it could be around 1902 if she was talking about the 2nd Boer War/Anglo Boer War... which makes her well over 100. She's still completely on the ball and has a dirty sense of humour - she told marcelina that jói wasn't coming home as he was going to sleep in her bed. She doesn't speak any portuguese, only shangaan - didn't stop her talking to me though. The picture is of her with her great-great grandaughter.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDr-BNbYt3cvoa9NpCxzmrJvWmp7w0Ds7Ok92n-uxuy_9N9Vs4Tt90C5fubOIlBJ9_WyKq0E3_w-diUoCNaEMb60eAZscQ4eCsQQbzYLzwjI3IJFW88K3JrafFr3Lv_cTT1fCc2w/s1600-h/machamba3.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDr-BNbYt3cvoa9NpCxzmrJvWmp7w0Ds7Ok92n-uxuy_9N9Vs4Tt90C5fubOIlBJ9_WyKq0E3_w-diUoCNaEMb60eAZscQ4eCsQQbzYLzwjI3IJFW88K3JrafFr3Lv_cTT1fCc2w/s320/machamba3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060244544714327378" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip2Bn2EEOXqIGYBxfav-yH4Kk8K7yqSZtW4PQNnQgoC_hKzsvbdOrsDHrkpCYWQztXSgBQbnyDuknCmjdQ5enxfIAsDmZKq7X8UZsj10wExw-tPnvlqehkvIyn5xPnKzVYubmdQ/s1600-h/machamba7.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip2Bn2EEOXqIGYBxfav-yH4Kk8K7yqSZtW4PQNnQgoC_hKzsvbdOrsDHrkpCYWQztXSgBQbnyDuknCmjdQ5enxfIAsDmZKq7X8UZsj10wExw-tPnvlqehkvIyn5xPnKzVYubmdQ/s320/machamba7.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060244862541907298" /></a>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-7845066777402265112007-04-26T10:53:00.000+02:002007-04-26T11:10:14.708+02:00$1 a day update.I mentioned back in december that i was planning to do a $1 a day challenge, which is what most people in Mozambique live on. <br /><br />I did this experiment for 2 weeks. In a way, it wasn't too difficult. It took me a little while to save up a bag of coal ($2) and i was spending an average of 70cents, sometimes as little as 40 cents. However, the important thing to remember is that I have no dependents, i didn't need to go to Quelimane ($8 return) & i coped not eating meat/fish & drinking coke/beer because i knew it was a temporary thing. <br /><br />Despite being possible, it is not a nice way to live. Fruit is a luxury, you need to fill yourself up on starch (mealie meal... rice is expensive) & clothes are something you can buy on rare occassions. You have no capital to start a small business or to buy seeds... this basically means these people who are living so far below the poverty line have no way to get themselves out of the situation.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-73992860662252333272007-04-13T14:05:00.000+02:002008-12-13T07:55:08.623+02:00Highlight of Maganja da Costa's social calenderThe president of Mozambique, Armando Emílio Guebuza, came to Maganja today. He and his entourage arrived in five helicopters, landed at the football field (where I have never seen anyone play football) and went and greeted the movers and shakers of the town. I also managed to stick my hand in between Adelson (ActionAid Coordinator) and the Rainha of Bala (the local queen) so I could at least claim to have shaken the man's hand- made standing in 35 degree heat worthwhile. <br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQhi83KSLDtJSpeKKwVD-l47IHXAelwpjr8wS3NRBtWK02G-UOufaQXmyhxOCU1K9a6ifYps8zfa_yvHfdhxABhJ9ftckvYTExTcV6B2fClBZU3hbmV3iQb8pOSCk0ip30dUyZw/s1600-h/Charlotte+053.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQhi83KSLDtJSpeKKwVD-l47IHXAelwpjr8wS3NRBtWK02G-UOufaQXmyhxOCU1K9a6ifYps8zfa_yvHfdhxABhJ9ftckvYTExTcV6B2fClBZU3hbmV3iQb8pOSCk0ip30dUyZw/s320/Charlotte+053.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052885868710336242" /></a><br /><br />Having arrived at 8.45, he received a flower garland, shook hands, saw some people dancing and singing, looked at the market, community radio station, spoke to some local government officials and at 12 went back to his helicopter and flew away. Adelson is one of the lucky few to have been invited to Mocubella to have lunch with him - although i don't know whether he will be able to get a word in edgewise. I told Adelson to please tell Guebuza to spend more money on education, and to please fix the roads. I hope he passes it on. <br /> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGiCPH5Crm0-8eJoPkT3b_bRsVEcWK04QvuzPGZ_J-n_9VB2Jon9P5hyp4TJh8y-M1sJchZ2eU7ffLkMmfrr266Gg4Xpzrq7lMNv7OaOvDJGs6E73c8P0u19-difzT_8aBn-mwg/s1600-h/Charlotte+080.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGiCPH5Crm0-8eJoPkT3b_bRsVEcWK04QvuzPGZ_J-n_9VB2Jon9P5hyp4TJh8y-M1sJchZ2eU7ffLkMmfrr266Gg4Xpzrq7lMNv7OaOvDJGs6E73c8P0u19-difzT_8aBn-mwg/s320/Charlotte+080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052888458575615746" /></a><br /><br />The thing that amazed/annoyed me, is that the local council, after sitting idly doing nothing for the last 6 months I've been here, last week suddenly decided to do some freshening up of the town. Rotting rubbish piled at the side of the road was cleared away, trees were pruned, buildings were given a lick of paint, the community radio (which broke a few weeks ago) suddenly started working yesterday. I personally think they should have left the town in its true state for the president to see. <br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nqSONcWS7W0iWZuOHmFqh0g069rzMjvfFa1Jcom_d_AGIILKQwlHQWyAhA-ro0CNk1p80iKublY2XHBEYiuCyeelOqPywK3_c0sMOgu5xXD9kPWxz5ogtjE20R_aA3QYFlHjvw/s1600-h/Charlotte+062.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nqSONcWS7W0iWZuOHmFqh0g069rzMjvfFa1Jcom_d_AGIILKQwlHQWyAhA-ro0CNk1p80iKublY2XHBEYiuCyeelOqPywK3_c0sMOgu5xXD9kPWxz5ogtjE20R_aA3QYFlHjvw/s320/Charlotte+062.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052889953224234770" /></a><br /><br />This leads me to another point that has been upsetting me for a while. The Mozambican government, in a move to make districts responsible for their own development, has given them a big sum of money and told then to use it wisely, initiating projects to benefit the whole community... HA!!<br /><br />In Maganja, benefiting the community has been interpreted as building big swanky houses for local government officials. Not only is this dishonest and not developing the community in any way, the houses are ugly and next door to mine. In Pebane, this money has been spent on painting the local government officials big residence and office, paving a 20 metre stretch of road outside it, and putting in flower beds. <br /><br />A huge thunderstorm is underway, not sure what this means for the fleet of helicopters. Maybe Guebuza will have to drive in a car and see the true state of local roads. Shock horror.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-35405332195021030092007-04-02T13:42:00.000+02:002007-04-02T15:12:21.874+02:00Apologies ... christmas and new year.My lack of blog writing has been hanging over me, i apologise. I haven´t been writing my diary either. I have been very busy in the last 3 months, and i don`t know where to start. <br /> <br />Christmas was memorable, especially killing christmas dinner - guinea fowl and chicken. Stebba and I had our own private as possible icelandic celebration on the 24th. We eventually ate our fried guinea fowl and dodgy sugar potatoes at 11pm, dressed up in 80´s party dresses and exchanged gifts bought from the local second hand market. The 25th was quite hectic, lots of invited and uninvited guests for the weirdest christmas supper i hope i'll ever have. <br /> <br />By the 30th we were desperate to get out of Maganja and set off to Pebane, 3 hours away on the coast, for lying on the beach with cold beer, and not having to deal with builders. We sat on the back of a truck in the burning sun with a Mozambican pop star and booked into a nice guesthouse we had been recommended. <br /> <br />The first disappointment was that there was no beach in pebane - it was quite a few km away and we had to get the guesthouse owner to drive us. Secondly, all the bars on the beach we had been promised didn´t exist, which kind of ruined the fantasy of drinking beer. The weather was pretty crummy and Stebba was eaten alive by something - she counted a total of 250 bites on her legs. We struggled to stay awake past 9pm on New Years Eve, and eventually saw in 2007 in the local disco, listening to phil collins with cheap fire crackers flying dangerously in all directions. <br /> <br />We decided to leave the next day to Nampula. We could have gone back to Maganja, then to Mocuba and taken the big, nice bus all the way to Nampula. We decided instead to go direct from Pebane up the coast. It was an epic, unforgettable trip.<br /> <br />The truck was meant to leave at 11pm and was going to pick us up from the guesthouse, where we were sleeping. Not the normal practise, but being white and paying extra to sit in the front they seemed to be happy to do this. The truck, already piled high with people and coconuts eventually arrived at 2.30. Half asleep, we climbed into the cab to begin our journey north. We both semi-slept until 5.30 when the truck rolled to a quiet stop, in the middle of nowhere. We had run out of petrol. <br /><br />Fortunately, someone had a bicycle on the back of the truck, so the driver set off for the nearest town to remedy the situation, and we sat on the side of the road for a few hours until he came back. We arrived in Naburi and had to get to the 'river'... except in Naburi there is no organised transport as such, so we waited and waited and waited. Six hours later, having found no food, we were about to pay 2 motorbikes to take us to the elusive river, when a big blue open truck pulled up and we jumped in. The driver began debating with the passengers as to which the best route was (i always assumed that drivers would know these things). <br /><br />The best route, apparently, was the one with lots of cashew trees, with rather low branches. Anyone familiar with cashew trees in central Mozambique will be aware of the large brown ants who nest in the branches. Every time the truck hit a branch... every 5 metres or so.... we were showered by dozens of these ants (which bite) and various other animals, including hairy caterpillars which leave huge puss filled blisters on your skin. Nice. The branches were sometimes so low, no amount of ducking would help, cue enormous scratches and bruises.<br /><br />The 30 kilometres to the river took about 2 hours. A leaky canoe transported us to the other side (just), and we then walked to a dried fish warehouse. We got onto another truck, piled high with burlap sacks of dried fish, and headed north. We told people we were heading for Nampula, but no one could tell us distances or times. All we knew is that after the fish truck we needed to get one more chapa to Nampula. We estimated that we would be on the fish truck for about an hour and a half. The road was awful and i had to tie myself onto the truck i was so terrified of falling off. It wasn't comfortable. <br /><br />Eight hours later we arrived in the seediest town in Mozambique, wet from a thunderstorm along the way, smelling of fish, bruised quite badly by branches, and having only eaten biscuits and cake since leaving Pebane. It was 11pm- Stebba went to find accommodation, the only place looked suspiciously like a brothel and was shut anyway. So we slept in the chapa, feeling slightly freaked out at how drunk the driver and his helper were, and that they didn't seem to be stopping drinking gin anytime soon. Thankfully, it wasn't the driver, they were both helpers 'looking after' the minibus. We arrived in Nampula the following morning, 29 hours after we left Pebane. <br /><br />Unfortunately my photos from the trip were accidentally deleted, but I promise that it is all true. It certainly wasn't pretty.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-39789939773841801822006-12-17T19:47:00.000+02:002006-12-17T20:04:53.205+02:00And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas timeTo make the run up to Christmas a little more festive, Stebba and I have taken to baking and eating Christmas treats. The only problem being that Maganja da Costa doesn’t offer much in the field of gastronomy, and due to the lack of ovens, everything has to be fried or boiled. Lots of the ingredients also have to be bought in Quelimane.<br /><br />However, after putting our heads together, getting those creative juices flowing, we have come up with some delicious, and not particularly healthy things to cheer us up after a long day trying to build a house. Feel free to try them out. <br /><br />Pancakes<br />Bananas fried in condensed milk (good in the pancakes or with kitkat crumbled over the top)<br />Chocolate/oat/coconut truffles<br />Frozen bananas covered in chocolate and cashew nuts/coconut<br />Packet chocolate pudding with banana and coconut<br /><br />Things we are planning on making<br />Pina Colada<br />Mango Sorbet<br />Pineapple Ice<br />Icelandic Christmas Rice Pudding<br /><br />We’ve also made an advent wreath, which was completely dead after a couple of hours. To make it vaguely resemble holly, Stebba painted some beans (and her hands) red and stuck them on. Unfortunately I can't load photos on at the moment, but come back another time and you'll see lovely pictures of us lighting the advent wreath each sunday. <br /><br />Tomorrow we are heading back to Maganja. The internet connection has been awful, and consequently the blogs are not at the standard we had hoped. We have lots of great photos, but we'll have to load them up after New Year. We aren't planning on coming back to Quelimane for quite some time. After Christmas we are heading to the beach at Pebane for New Years to get rid of our workers tans and eat lots and lots of prawns. In early January we are going up north to Nampula to buy capulanas for the project and more beach and sight-seeing at Ilha de Mocambique.<br /><br />We hope you all have a wonderful Christmas holiday. Think of me and Stebba, in our beautiful new house, singing Band Aid's 'Do they know it's Christmas?', trying to make Christmas dinner on a coal fire and trying to feel festive in 40 degree heat.<br /><br />And in case you were wondering, yes, they do know it's Christmas. And it does snow in some places. And things do grow. And there's a lot of rain too. Bob Geldolf and Midge Ure should have done some research.<br /><br />Merry Christmas and a Happy New YearCharlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-24254768493292831882006-12-17T09:31:00.000+02:002006-12-17T09:35:20.788+02:00$1 a day challengeA large percentage of people in Mozambique live on less than $1 (about 27MTn), so I'm going to try and live on 25Mtn a day for a month. I need some help with conditions for the challenge. <br /> <br />Importantly, I won't have a lump sum at the beginning of the month from which i can buy a bag of coal, rice etc. I get 25 on the first day, so if i need to buy something big i'll have to save up for it. <br /><br />I can accept food from people, and I can use my cellphone (please).<br /> <br />Do people have ideas of certain big things i should buy or do during the challenge? <br />So far I have come up with: <br /> <br />* an item of clothing <br />* an alcholic drink <br />* fix my bicycle <br /> Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-51500411063273305932006-12-16T18:28:00.000+02:002006-12-17T09:29:40.270+02:00Fun and Games in Quelimane & New Blogsite<p align="justify">I'm sorry I haven't written my blog for such a long time. We've been having far too much fun crying at the immigration office and screaming at the builders.<br /><br />I'm in the process of setting up a new blog for our project. The link is on the side of the page. I'm going to do some cut and pasting, but if you want to know all about the joys of building a house in Africa, it's in a lot of detail there.<br /><br />One benefit of having nothing to do in Queliamane and Maganja was that we were able to talk to each other about what we wanted to achieve in Mozambique and what kind of projects we were interested in. We made 'Plan B' as a back up if the ActionAid volunteer positions fell through.<br /><br />We felt that women lacked the opportunity to speak freely among themselves. Their roles, especially in rural areas, were primarily as wives and mothers. Women in Iceland and the UK have the possibility of meeting with friends discuss, advise, console and complain. We have access to a whole wealth of information: books, internet, magazines, television and radio.<br /><br />We thought we could improve the lives of marginalised women by increasing access to information, access to training and accessibility to other women in similar situations to exchange ideas and advice.<br /><br />Neither of us have any experience and knew that most projects were likely to fail, but we were very determined to get the project off the ground. We had so me good, clear ideas, and lots of motivation.<br /><br />I'm not going to write anymore about the project or the house, as it will just be repeating the other blog. I will say that it has completely consumed our lives. We are up everyday by 5a.m. and sometimes much earlier. I started reading a book called 'The State of Africa' a few weeks ago, and since the project begun, i haven't touched it. I only write my diary sporadically, and dream about building houses three times a week.<br /><br /><br />The only 'break' from building the house has been coming to Quelimane, for one of two reasons. One has been to buy building materials that are unavailable in Maganja. I am now quite capable of talking about construction in Portuguese, and even the odd word in local dialect as well.<br /><br />The second diversion from the house, not nearly as exciting as paint, nails, locks and iron bars, is getting a new visa. I bought a six month multiple entry visa in London which stated that I had to leave the country every 60 days. Stebba bought her six month multiple entry visa in Nelspruit, South Africa (at nearly a quarter of the price), but has to leave the country every 30 days. After the trauma of the Malawi trip we paid a visit to the Immigration office - not only to tell them that it doesn't take 2 hours to get there, it takes 4 days - but to buy new visas. We knew it was possible to buy six month single entry visas, but not easy.<br /><br />One Monday morning we set off from Maganja at 4a.m. (after finding a rat running around the kitchen & not eating any breakfast) with a nice letter explaining to the nice boss at immigration why it was really necessary for us to get these visas. We arrived in the hot, hot heat and were told that they couldn't possibly accept the letter because it wasn't nice and straight and the nice boss could only accept nice, straight letters. We should go and get a nice new one, we were told. We said, nicely, that it wasn't really possible as Maganja was a long way away and the paper would just get crumpled on the way back. They still wouldn't accept it.<br /><br />So, Stefania and I wandered up and down the street asking random people outside their houses if they had an iron we could borrow. Except we didn't know the word for iron. So we mimed ironing clothes, and they all thought we were crazy and told that they didn't have one we could use. (it's ferro, in case you ever need to know). We eventually went to a friends house, ironed the letters and went back to immigration where we were told that the nice boss was away until Friday and we should come back then.<br /><br />On Friday, after another 3 hour chapa ride, they made us sit in the office for 2 hours, just to make us squirm, and were then told by the not-so-nice boss that we couldn't get them - we semi-shouted on the verge of tears - and they eventually agreed. Two weeks later, they're still not ready. </p><div align="justify"></div>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1163868162065424722006-11-18T18:29:00.000+02:002006-11-18T18:42:42.066+02:00Life and Death in Maganja<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00374.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00374.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00391.1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00391.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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).Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1163865530880570872006-11-18T17:11:00.000+02:002006-11-18T18:57:42.893+02:00MuzoThe 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. <br /> <br />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. <br /> <br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00306.0.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00306.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00311.0.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00311.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00342.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00342.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00347.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00347.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /> <br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00315.0.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00315.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1163259536290405662006-11-11T16:46:00.000+02:002006-11-18T16:14:38.956+02:00To Malawi and backAfter 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). <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00284.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00284.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00294.0.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00294.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00299.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00299.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />Over a week later, we still have not come to terms with the cockroach hotel room. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1163254464120749522006-11-11T15:51:00.000+02:002006-11-11T16:14:24.140+02:00Back to Quelimane - Gin & CheasNaks<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00266.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00266.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Coca Cola being loaded onto a bicycle.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00275.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00275.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Boredom sets in - Stefania and i resort to drinking gin and tonic out of plastic bottles and eating MSG-laden snacks.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1163252876841295922006-11-11T15:27:00.000+02:002006-11-11T15:47:56.853+02:00Zalala Beach<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00244.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00244.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00253.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00253.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00261.0.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00261.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1162313720090636812006-10-31T18:17:00.000+02:002006-10-31T18:55:20.103+02:00QuelimaneStefania and I flew to Quelimane, the capital of Zambezia province, on Thursday. It's a world apart from Maputo. Everyone I spoke to about coming up here only had one comment about the place. 'It's really hot.' And it is. Really hot. And it's only October - December, January, February will be worse. But, I really like it here. It's very laid back, everyone cycles around, and i feel much safer (apart from near misses with bicycles going at break-neck speed). There isn't really much to do here; just 2 cinemas showing bollywood movies, an disused, old - i think the oldest in Mozambique - cathedral from the eighteenth century over-run with rats, a big mosque and not much else. It's very charming in it's own special way. There are hundreds of fruit bats that hang upside down in the trees squeaking away during the day, and flying around at dusk. There are also lots of rats - really big ones - and stray dogs. <br /><br />We've been passing the time doing random shopping. I have added to my collection of capulanas (mozambican sarong things for those of you who haven't read the previous posts). I'm too embarrassed to admit how many i have. I'll definitely be buying a suitcase to take them all home in. Have also had some dresses made from the capulana's. They are so unsexy. I look like an extra from a dodgy 1970's movie. If you're lucky i might take a picture of me wearing it. Have also bought a big knife, a pillow and various bits and pieces. The knife isn't for my personal protection (i already have pepper spray), but for doing exciting things like cracking open coconuts and peeling mangoes and pineapples. So far i've only been eating lychees, kilos of them, but they don't really require knives.<br /><br />There is no running water here, but i have perfected the art of showering with 3 litres of water, although i am very close to shaving all my hair off. I might get some braids when I go to the province to begin work as i can't cope with trying to keep it clean and tangle free. And i'm not going to break my promise to my mother, who thinks i might be tempted to return with dreadlocks, just in case anyone else is worried. <br />Managed to get what i thought was a mosquito bite on my arm. Was subsequently told it could be a spider bite. It looked like something was growing inside it, so yesterday armed with a needle and disinfectant i investigated. You'll be disappointed to know that there were no larvae inside it. I've got a nice selection of mosquito bites everywhere else. I think they are resistant to 'Peaceful Sleep' which is beyond me as i practically pass out from the fumes every time i apply it. <br /><br />We're still waiting to hear when we can leave for the provinces. Slowly getting used to the pace of things in Mozambique. I'm functioning at half speed because of the heat so it makes sense that everyone else does too.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1162226738357036052006-10-30T18:31:00.000+02:002006-10-30T18:45:38.373+02:00Goodbye Maputo<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/stebbame2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/stebbame2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Finally after weeks of obsessively checking our emails, Stebba and I have jobs, albeit unpaid ones. We head up to Zambezia province to work for ActionAid; i will be stationed in Maganja da Costa, Stefania in Pebane. For those of you interested in finding it on a map - the nearest big town is Quelimane, i'm just under 100km away as the crow flies, but it can take up to 5 hours to drive there. It's about the same from me to Stefania. Maganja isn't on most maps, but if you can find Quelimane and Pebane - i'm about halfway and a little inland (unfortunately no beach, sea breeze or giant prawns for me)<br /><br />On our last night in Maputo we went to the fish market with lots of people for supper and ate huge amounts of crab and prawns. The market is amazing, lots of little stalls with fish and prawns etc - you choose what you want and they cook it for you while you sit at little tables nearby drinking beer. I have decided that food that requires effort to eat it tastes much much better. Crab is definitely my new favourite food, despite cutting my fingers trying to break the shell. I also think I could eat the local prawns endlessly - and they are huge, although not as big as they used to be, apparently. <br /><br />Had more drinks afterwards with Margeir and Franklin, and then stayed up until 4am packing. Not fun.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1162225646458132242006-10-30T18:24:00.000+02:002006-10-30T18:27:26.470+02:00Coconuts<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00214.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00214.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Stebba and I at last ventured out to sample Mozambican night life. Adelson works for ActionAid up in the Zambezia province, and will be my new boss, his friend was Danilo. Danilo is the one on the left, Adelson on the right. <br /><br />The club was very expensive by Mozambique standards, but we consoled ourselves with the one free drink on entry: a really dodgy bottle of alcopop cider. The 'musical highlights' of the evening were a Cape Verde boyband called 'Quatro +' who sing in Creole, dress all in white and have the obligatory syncronised dance moves, and the local MC Roger. Both acts were incredibly popular, especially with the laydeez.<br /><br />We've since heard Quatro + and MC Roger songs on the radio, and all Mozambicans we meet seem incredibly impressed that we have seen them. I think it's the equivalent of seeing Blue and Sean Paul in one night. <br /><br />If you're really lucky i'll bring back a selection of the music for your listening pleasure.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1161823889122620472006-10-26T01:39:00.000+02:002006-10-27T14:34:07.493+02:00Life in Maputo<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/beach.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/beach.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />We spent the first week or so in Maputo too nervous to leave the house on our own. We watched so much cable we began to detect underlying thematic programming. I think I have now seen every film Ashtun Kutcher has made. <br /><br />Thankfully we broke this cycle and braved the 'chapas' - notoriously dangerous mini buses which cost 10p, crammed full of people, and jump red lights. Stebba often sat on my lap, and the conductor hung out the window. We discovered Gianni's icecream place, the Polana shopping centre (not really worth the effort), the beach and that there is life outside Sommerschield. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC00172.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC00172.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1161300811037940862006-10-20T00:36:00.000+02:002006-10-20T12:39:52.703+02:00AVIMAS<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/avimas3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/avimas3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/avimas4.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/avimas4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Stefanía and I went to visit AVIMAS as unofficial and oblivious representatives of ICEIDA. AVIMAS (Association of Widows and Single Mothers) began in 1997 and members are taught various skills (sewing, embroidery, hairdressing etc.) to enable them to support themselves, their children and grandchildren. <br /> <br />We were there to take part in a 'capulana ceremony'. Capulanas are Mozambican sarongs which the women wear over their clothes, around their waists. The women had made the capulanas from fabric and paints ICEIDA had provided and we were officially handing them over after they had signed some kind of contract, at least those who could write - some of the older women were illiterate and had to ink their thumbs and make prints instead. <br /> <br />Jeramiah, a Mozambican ICEIDA employee who was with us, helped us ask the women some questions. One of the founding members spoke to us about AVIMAS - she said it was created to help women forget their problems, their worries. When the women were at the centre they forgot the pain of losing their husbands, they forgot to worry about their poverty. They felt empowered to improve their lives, and the lives of their families and they were able to take control of their futures. It was very moving to hear this woman speak; she had such an amazing, expressive face. <br /> <br />The AVIMAS ladies sang us a few songs, Jeramiah tried to translate some of the lyrics. One was about listening to advice being important, another about ICEIDA - thanking them for their help. They began dancing, and decided that we should to. I think I proved that white women can't really dance, but it was great fun, and it must of ingratiated me to them as they began calling me Carlotinha (little Charlotte). I have to learn to dance like them while I'm here.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/avimas2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/avimas2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/avimas.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/avimas.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1161011596069540252006-10-16T12:38:00.000+02:002006-10-20T12:59:51.996+02:00Sweet apartment<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/maputo.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/maputo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Thanks to Bjarni's dad, things in Maputo have been running very smoothly. I'm staying with an Icelandic girl called Þóra who is the intern for the Icelandic International Development Agency (ICEIDA). She has an enormous apartment with 3 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, a guard and an empregada (a maid) called Laura, internet and cable TV. There's another Icelandic girl living here called Stefanía from Akureyri who is in the same position as me (i.e. turned up in Mozambique looking for work with only a vague idea of what to do). So, we have a pretty sweet set-up here. I don't really feel like i'm slumming it 'le bique' style though. <br /><br />On the first night Margeir (B's dad) and his collegue Franklín took the three of us to Mundo's, a restaurant I had heard of before I arrived. It's where the author Henning Mankell (look him up if you like crime novels) eats when he's in Maputo. I had an enourmous, delicious steak, and tried the two local beers, 2M and Laurentina There seems to be an on-going argument over which is the better of the two; I am yet to decide where i stand on this issue.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1160994820282443912006-10-16T12:17:00.000+02:002006-10-16T12:33:40.293+02:00Jo'burg - MaputoI apologise to those I promised not to take the bus from Jo'burg to Maputo, but at short notice, it seemed like a much, much cheaper alternative to flying. In retrospect, I don't know why I was so worried, maybe the uncertainty of what it would be like. I'm very glad I took the bus, and unless I can find very reasonable flights, I would do it again. This will only confirm Alice's suspicion that I'm a sadist when it comes to long distance travel. <br /><br />The trip was uneventful; the highlights were seeing a zebra on the edge of Kruger park, eating ostrich biltong and the bus not breaking down. The disparity between South Africa and Mozambique is what fascinated me the most. Everything changed on crossing the border: landscape, people etc. The South African border was air-conditioned, clean and efficient; the Mozambican border was crowded, smelly, disorganised and the staff more friendly. <br /><br />We waited in the mid afternoon heat while the customs officials went through all our luggage. In the valley below the Mozambican border was a little town called Ressano Garcia. There were lots of mangy dogs, chickens and goats roaming around, and a fellow bus passenger told me that they ate anything and everything: monkeys, lizards, frogs and rats etc.<br /><br />The remainder of the trip was uneventful. I looked at the arid landscape with little clusters of reed shacks every couple of miles until we arrived in Maputo an hour later.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1159969268141477052006-10-04T15:23:00.000+02:002006-10-05T12:21:43.666+02:00Much Ado About Nothing<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC02528.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC02528.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Flying over the coast of East Africa, Zanzibar and Lake Malawi I was quite tempted to abandon the idea of working in Mozambique and travel all over Africa instead. I think I might have slightly annoyed the lady next to me by constantly leaning over excitedly looking at the view and trying to work out what I was looking at. On descending into Jo'burg the enormity of what I am about to do suddenly hit me and I was terrified. <br /><br />Once I got off the plane and found the taxi I'd booked I felt much better. When, as we left the airport carpark the driver had to take his keys out of the ignition and then restart the engine to prove that he hadn't hot-wired the car, I was reminded of how different things are in South Africa. As we drove into Jo'burg, I chatted to the driver. He was quite a strange man - born in Malawi and brought up in Rhodesia - he made lots of jokes that I didn't quite get and after I told him that I studied the 'antichrist in art' at Edinburgh, he proceeded to tell me that we were living in the time of 'iron and clay feet' and that Christ would soon be coming back down to earth to judge us. I'm not familiar with the book of Daniel, but I think he meant that the end of the world was coming. (Just to warn you)<br /><br />I stayed with Margaret - a good friend of a good friend - she was incredibly nice and had gone out of her way to make me feel welcome. We sat in her garden and drank wine, and after supper her son Andrew invited me to go out with him and his friends. It was interesting to be immersed into a complete group of friends from a different country - I couldn't quite work out what was different about them, and I couldn't get over how cheap the beer was. They all seemed very nice and were hugely entertaining, but at 1am, after a 4am start and an eight hour flight I had to go and sleep. <br /><br />On Friday night, Margaret, Andrew and I went to see Bryan (an old friend of Andrew's and one of the people I had met the previous evening) in the Wits University production of 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Even though it is one of the few Shakespeare's I haven't studied, I immensely enjoyed it. I thought the energy and dynamics of the cast were excellent. There was lots of jumping around the stage, singing and chanting and the overall use of space was very effective. I confess that I did have some problems following some parts of the play, but Shakespearean language is never easy, especially in a strong South African accent. Bryan who played Benedick, and the guy who played Claudio were by far the best. I decided not go and see Mr. Scruff with Andrew, Bryan and their friends. If I hadn't had to wake up early to go to Mozambique I would have loved to go.<br /><br />My time in Jo'burg was definitely too short. The Stuart Watsons took great care of me, and I will definitely go back and visit them. Whilst I didn't feel safe in the city, I think the majority of that unease came from people in the UK scaremongering, and maybe reading the local papers doesn't help.<br /><br />p.s. You can now leave comments and not be a member. <br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC02541.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC02541.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC02542.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC02542.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1159545607146004262006-09-29T17:09:00.000+02:002006-09-29T18:00:10.833+02:00Sheikhs and SouksMy immediate impression of Dubai was that it was very much like Houston, probably due to the climate, huge cars and modernity. <br /><br />Although the summer is over, it was still 40+ degrees and very humid (85% humidity the day before I arrived). In Dubai you are constantly in an airconditioned bubble, cars/malls/etc, and i don't think i spent more than 30 seconds out of doors. Of course resulting in a sore throat within 20 minutes of arriving. <br /><br />I stayed with some very nice people, Lee, David, Oscar and their dog Felix von Slobberlicker. Lee knew Dubai really well and drove around showing me all the sights, we even got to drive onto the palm jumeirah. The amount of construction going on is phenomenanal, there are thousands and thousands of cranes and enormous, new, shiny skyscrapers everywhere. There are also thousands of immigrant slave labourers, getting paid less than 50 pounds a month and living in cramped camps in the desert, which takes the edge off all the glam and glitz of the place. <br /><br />My highlights were seeing the race camels and visiting the old part of Dubai to the spice and gold souks. The camels are treated as well as any thouroughbred race horse, and when they are racing (later in the year) go incredibly fast. The old part of the city was completely different from the rest, we had to get a little water taxi across the creek to the Deira part of Dubai. The smell from the Dhow's full of spices was worth inventing smellovision for. Unfortunately because of Ramadan it wasn't as busy as usual, but the atmosphere was still great. I didn't do any shopping due to lack of space, and that fake marc jacobs handbags and huge gold necklaces aren't really practical in mozambique. I did buy a lovely pashmina for 2.50 though.<br /><br />I would go back to Dubai, but only if i was passing through. It's a strange place, I didn't see many Arabs there and if i didn't have someone who knew the place who was willing to drive me around, I don't think I would have had such an enjoyable time.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1159366453047696592006-09-27T16:04:00.000+02:002006-10-05T00:58:31.343+02:00Thank heaven for SatNav and Daddy's drivingWith typical ferrier travel luck, the M3 and M25 were partially closed and traffic was at a standstill - were it not for the SatNav and Daddy's super speedy backroad driving, we would not have made it to the airport on time, if at all. There were the most incredible clouds, which would have looked much less out of place in Africa. Almost brown and billowing, they eventually broke, and the last leg if the journey was in torrential downpour, i think we managed to aquaplane in the car. Quite scary.<br /><br />The flight was packed, the food a million times better than Icelandair, and i watched Just My Luck and An Inconvenient Truth - Lindsay Lohan and Global warming - what a combination. I thoroughly recommend you all to see An Inconvenient Truth, Al Gore is a new hero of mine. If only he had been elected over Bush.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/1600/DSC02484.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/3859/320/DSC02484.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Saw an amazing mountain range as we flew into UAE. I've found out that it was the Zagros Mountains.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34796851.post-1158844418575113832006-09-21T15:09:00.000+02:002006-09-21T15:13:38.576+02:00PreparationI'm leaving the UK in four days, and still have a scary amount of things to do. One thing I probaby shouldn't be doing is creating a new blog. Visas and packing should take priority, but they're not as fun. I'm going to buy a new rucksack, and exciting things like travel insurance and oral rehydration sachets this afternoon. I'd better go and do some laundry and find my mosquito net. Look forward to seeing some of you in london tomorrow.Charlotte Ólöfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08134582944512138982noreply@blogger.com0