Mais Maputo

Things are rollin’ right along here in the wonderland of Maputo. When I as young, my parents had two National Geographic books one called “Our 50 States” and the other called “Our World”. I must have spent hours glancing through those beauties. I remember (very early memory) reading about the fantastic pastel beaches and laid back lifestyle of Mozambique. Sometimes while driving through the relaxed, yet completely hectic streets of Maputo I think…”Wow. Here I am…driving along in the chaos of an African rush hour in a place that always seemed a dream.”. The people are stunningly beautiful, the papayas are the perfect texture, and you can pull over in traffic and buy fresh fish from a fisherman walking along the streets. 

     I am currently sitting the our little living room with a fresh grouper (type of fish) baking in the oven, stuffed with onion, garlic, and pineapple. When we arrived in Maputo, we pitched a tent the first three nights at a backpackers hostel. We paid the first night, but the second two were covered via songs from my beautiful guitar. She has helped alleviate much of the accommodations cost. While at the backpackers, we met great guy named Nils. He is a Dane who has been living here for years and is building an eco-lodge-community about 300 km up the coast from here. We had a nice walk around the town, and we will certainly pay him a long visit next week when we leave. We also met another dear friend named Bambu, who is a very talented drummer who lives here in Maputo, but plays all over the world. He has recorded with many of the great African musicians whom I listen to, and it was so exciting to connect with him. When I mentioned that we were looking for an apartment to rent for a while, he offered his sister’s house, where he and his nephew currently reside . Since he left the following day to perform for a month in Canada, it is just us, and Armando his VERY hospitable nephew.

       The house is perfect: It is in a very real part of the city. There are dirt streets and people just sell things so casually: beer from their house, lettuce from a wheelbarrow, paint/locks/and telephone cards from a kiosk. Chickens walk across the corrugated roof during the day, and it sounds like a very concentrated heavy rain.  I watched four nursery school aged kids in their school uniforms cling to the back of a truck as it drove through the narrow alleys this morning…they were laughing and laughing. The guy who runs the beer counter across the street has already taken to us and I just finished getting my first African haircut from his neighbor.

       The work for our “Assignment Earth” story is going remarkably smooth. We had a meeting yesterday with an organization called JA! (justicia ambiente or Environmental justice). JA also means “Now” in Portuguese. We are writing a 3-5 minute piece about the Zambezi River delta, and its rapid changes (not for the better). The delta is about 600 km. north of here, and that’s where we will head next after our interviews, filming, and city life is finished.

    O.K.- not everything is perfect. I just pulled the fish out of the oven and it smelled like ammonia. Old very old….and my beer is done!