To bring you all up-to-date before I bus up to Namibia tomorrow, I've decided to do a highlight reel of the last bit of my time here in South Africa. The substantial entry left you all somewhere in Mozambique, so I'll pick up the thread there. And from now on I pinky-promise to keep up my journal on the road and blog it whenever I can, or at least put up one MASSIVE novel of an entry when I return.
So here goes:
The rest of Mozambique:
There are some things we can't take home. There have been so many moments on this trip where I've wanted to share an experience with a friend or family member and I know that no photo or email or letter will ever bring that moment to them. It is frustrating but also makes it precious in its own way.
I woke up at 5:15 to see the sun rise over the Indian Ocean. The local fishermen were already cutting across the beach on their way to the far end and their swift bodies and tall fishing rods cast noble shadows on the sand.
At 6-ish, we were picked up by the militant-looking German horse guide. We walked to his modest ranch against the tide ofr women walking in the opposite direction to the market with their fruit and veggies in buckets on their heads. We arrive at and I'm put on the "wilder" silver horse, Tessa mounts a beautiful chestnut horse.
The day is still fresh and the horses seem a bit sleepy until we're out on the beach. The clip-clopping of their hooves, the soft crashing of waves and the shuffle of the guide's two dogs running and playing alongside us is the the symphony of sound here. We are mostly silent-- savouring the scenery,which is all sand and water broken up by solitary fisherman late for work.
Near the end of the beach section our guide asks us if we want to kanter. I had forgotton how powerful horses are, how unbelievably exhilarating it is to ride them when they give in to their power. I lean forward and put my weight into my heels, suspending myself just above the saddle as the hooves thunder under me on the sand.
We go up the dunes and inland for the rest of the ride. We travel through the forests, getting up to somelook-out points. The best part was riding by the various villages where the locals waved and we exchanged a few "Bon Dias". The tiny children were especially curious, practicing their English, "Hello! How are you?!" in staccato mimicry.
We come upon an old lady who is leaning against a tree and we say hello as we pass. She nods her head and waves. As we get out of ear shot our guide tells us this woman is roughly 90 years old and is the local witch doctor. I'm glad I was polite.
Later that afternoon Tessa and I decide to walk down the other end of the beach. It beegins to rain near the tail end of our walk, which ends at the monument at a cliff. The monument, which is an arm coming out of a pyramid with a broken chain hanging from the wrist, is set there to commemorate the Mozambiqan prisoners who were drowned by the Portuguese. Under the cliffs there are caves which the Portuguese would chain the prisoners to during low tide and leave them there for high tide.
We decided to walk on the dirt road on the way back. It starts to rain quite hard so Tessa and I ask a local if we can sit on his porch, under the awning until it passes. Life here follows this pace overall-- we are calm and patient, everything happens in its own time. I sink into that feeling like a warm bath.
Tonight is the full moon part at Dino's (one of the few restaurants here). All of Tofo is there and I'm surprised by the amount of people I know from the days we've spent here: Jesian, the Mozambiqan guy that I bought bracelets from at the market; Hugh, the Brit who had designer everything; Damin, the Australian backpacker who continues to "extend" his stay in Tofo; and surprise, surprise-- some people from Cape Town! Allison, a girl I drum with in Khayelitsha, and Mark and Chris, Micheala's German friends.
But it was nice to just spend time with Brandon, Curtis and Tessa. Sometimes you just happen upon people who you connect with and that is better than meeting hundreds of people. I grew really fond of these two innocents--especially in contrast to all the drugged, drunked backpackers surrounding us.
We walked back to the hostel and said our goodbyes-- short and sweet. Two warm hugs and a timid kiss on the cheek from Curtis. Tessa and I go to sleep, knowing we have to be up in three hours to catch the bus back to maputo.
Swaziland
You can telll a lot about a country by their boder crossings. Even the vibe on the bus to Swaziland was different-- lighter, somehow more carefree. The bus is filled with mostly nicely dressed wimen who chat the whole ride long-- their voices carry that "seen everything" tone that older women and men have here, and at times laugh so hard that I really want to ask them what they are saying.
There is no crazy line at the border. The building is clean and well-maintained. Everything is completed efficiently. About one mile into Swaziland, we're checked by a border guard- they are absolutely friendly.
We arrive in Manzini, a small city near the Ezulwini Valley, grab a taxi and soon we're at Sondzela Backpackers. After traveling 8+ hours on bus rides, Swaziland seems so small. More than the time it takes to travel around it, people's genuine kindness, friendliness, and concern also gives the whole country a small-twon feel. I'm getting the creeping feeling of not wanting to go back to South Africa.
We arrive at the hostel in the middle of the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary. Sondzela Backpackers is run by a handful of very large, African "mamas", as Tessa calls them-- but there is no better word. At 6:30 each night, they bang a big bass drum to call everyone to dinner. We eat hearty stew, rice and salad by the camp fire and are in bed by 9:30.
But before dinner Tessa and I go on a short walk to the main camp (which has more luxury accomodations). Tessa and I flopped down the hill happily but suddenly she stops directly in front of me. She turns around with this big grin on her face. I'm thinking-- "what are you doing?". Then something catches my eye to the right of me and I spot my first wild zebra! They were beautiful, just standing in the grass nibbling away. I couldn't believe it. Tessa laughed and said she figured it was my first wild zebra so she thought I should find it on my own. It was one of the most beautiful gifts she's ever given me.
On our short, 20 minute walk we spot kudu, warthog, monkeys, birds, fish, turtles and crocodiles.
The next day we do an extensive hike of the whole park-- starting at around 9 and returning at 3 pm. We talk and don't talk. We make silly jokes and listen to the gorillas in the distance. We get lost and realize our sense of direction is better than the map. When we return, we do the same dinner routine. The mama's start to call me "Sisi" and teach Tessa and I how to knit blankets (part of an AIDS project in Swaziland). After dinner, there is lightning in the distance this time. I try to take photos of the bold lines crashing down over the valley but fail. Instead I take some great shots of everyone around the camp fire-- the fire burst up into the air and everyone in a semi-circle of blurred, neon bodies.
In Swaziland there was a taste of the Africa that looms in our imaginations. Everyone keeps saying they want to see it-- the "real" Africa. I don't think there is such a thing. It is all real but this is one of the portraits that fits nicely in our bold outlines. In any event, I am so thankful for these two weeks because they have truly re-awoken that wanderlust in me.
April 15, 2007- April 26, 2007: Juliet (a.k.a. Sista from another Papa) visits!
Check out her blog for more details-- you may need to look back a little bit to get it all but it's there. And Damn, we tore it up: http://tresfabfoofoojewelz.blogspot.com/ The rough itinerary was: Chapman's Peak Drive, Boulder's Beach and the penguins, Camps Bay, drumming at Khayelitsha, V&A Waterfront, Stellenbosch and wine tasting, Franschhoek and MORE wine tasting, Hiking Table Mountain, Robben Island, Cape Point, etc...
April 26-May 24th: Working to catch up from Juliet's visit, working to get ahead for Tessa's visit. Plus Chimurenga deadline looms! AHH!
May 24, 2007 -May 28, 2007: Tessa's visit
Since Tessa had already been to Cape Town, this was more of a "let's take an advantage of being in the same country again" sort of thing. So, I wanted to give her a slice of my life here in Cape Town.
Started off with a walk down to Rhondebosch commons, where I run. Then off to UCT to check out the campus. Later that evening we kicked it off at Charlton House (big house of international students where some of my German friends live) and got down at Hemisphere, where the usual debauchery kept us dancing until the early morning.
The next day, tired and a bit hungover, we ran some errands and went to my FINAL class of the semester. My program director, Melissa Steyn, kindly invited all the students to her house for the last course and we had some great discussion, debate, and dessert! Can't ask for more than that!
On Saturday, I completely my list of necessary To-Do's in Cape Town by finally visiting Robben Island. Powerful and inspiring, history was given life in the shades of grass in the prison yard, the smallness of the window looking out of Mandela's cell, the dry red rust on the barbed wire fences, the halting speech of the ex-prisoner who toured us around the facilities, the generosity of spirit between him and the people he spoke to.
Tessa and I had a little brainchild for Saturday evening-- invite over a handful of individually interesting people we knew in the area, who didn't know each other at all, make some dinner and add a few bottles of wine and see what sparks would fly. The guest list: myself (American), Tessa (Dutch), Micheala and Kai and Tchoo Tchoo (my German roommates), Che and his girlfriend (South African and Namibian respectively), Jacob (Dutch) and his friend Sarah (Senegalese). So the network is: I know Tessa, I live with the roommates, Tessa knows Che because he studied abroad in Amsterdam, I met Jacob in a club one of my first weeks in Cape Town and he happened to know my program director because he is doing research on Afrikaaners, he is also supervising Sarah's masters work. So what happens when you get a group of international intellectuals together? AMAZING conversation-- debates and laughter and controversy and flirtation and smoke-breaks and 5 empty bottles of wine and no one getting up from the table until around 2 a.m. It was heaven.
Tessa's visit was short but sweet. And we're meeting in Botswana soon. It felt so good to give her a quick hug at the airport and say "See you in three weeks!" when normally we don't have any set time of when we'll see eachother next. Still, I'm in awe of the fact that she and I manage these feats of global-friendship. I guess it just shows how much we mean to each other.
The Goodbye
Last week was my last day at Khayelitsha. We spent the afternoon painting. At one point, one of the other volunteers said to me, "How should we approach the topic of us leaving?". This basically meant, "Can you be the one to tell them?". I sighed and turned to the girls and asked them if they knew that today was the last day. They didn't (even though I had told them the week before). I felt that pull in my chest and said "Today is our last day together. We have to go back home. But next semester you will have some new university students who will come each week and do the arts program with you." Siziwe didn't really understand, she asked "Well, when are you coming back". She was painting. She didn't look up at me. I don't think she wanted to. I said "We're not coming back. We have to go home. I'm sorry. But next semester you'll have new students who will teach you new things." I was trying my best to soften things but they all got it. We were all quiet for some time. It was important to me to tell them the truth but it cut through me in a way I wasn't prepared for. I said "Next semester is going be a lot of fun for you, you'll have all new instructors that you can play your tricks on. Promise me you'll give them a hard time" They laughed and broke the sadness that had settled on the room. I was thankful for that because then we were able to just have a nice time and celebrate a bit. We brought out our cameras and took a lot of funny pictures together. The girls love to pose. As we walked back to the main building, Yandiswa called my name and ran up to me and gave me a big hug. Then Siziwe and Nosiphiwo did too. I hugged them all tightly and told them to take care of themselves and each other. And that was that.
The See You Laters:
This week has been a lot of hopeful "See You Laters":
My final day at Chimurenga, I hand in the last edits minutes before I'm set to leave and Ntone gives me one of his signature embraces-- he is all woollen beard and incense, like a soft rastafarian bear. And Rucera also gives me a sweet peck on the cheek and fragile hug. They are such a funny couple but I love them together and separate. We all laugh nervously but I'll be dropping in on them on the way back, so no good-bye's just yet. Still, we all know that this was one of those moments in life that isn't likely to be repeated. We were a team for a split second... it was really fantastic.
Tchoo Tchoo took me to dinner at the V&A Waterfront. As time runs out, a lot of our interactions have the bitter-sweet acknowledgement that this is the last time we'll do this together or the last time we'll do that together. Ha! Even "This" versus "That"-- it's one of the rules of English that I clumsily tried to clarify for him. But sometimes I realize I don't even hear his German accent anymore. I rarely hear any mistakes, even though I know there are small ones there. I just hear him. I forget he is from somewhere completely different from me and that just 4 months ago I didn't know him at all. Like he would say "that's aMAAZing". But we're going for the "See You Later" plan and I know we can make it happen. I'll visit Berlin. He'll visit New York. Two great friends in two of the world's best cities... and who knows where else we might meet. I'm so happy for him because this trip sparked the wanderlust in him and there is so much that he has to look forward to. So many adventures we might still have.
Tonight is my "Bye-Bye Braii". I've invited over the loose circle of friends who have been a part of this moment. We'll drink, bbq and have some good talks. And at the end of the night, I'll give everyone a big hug in the hopes that they will all be See-You-Laters...but probably not. Still, I am able to appreciate them all and to be present at this point in time-- like the very top of the arc where it is just between climbing and descending.
Tomorrow at 10:30 a.m. I board a bus to Namibia-- two and a half months of travelling and then I'm back in New York. It's funny because I do feel as though I'm on my way home-- I'm just taking the long way.
~Nathalie
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Random Thoughts I should have put up here a long time ago
1. I never thought I would be able to say this, but I was attacked by a baboon. There, now I've said it.
2. I met the New Zealand Rugby team-- they somewhere between Homo Habilus and Homo Sapien in the evolution of man. Juliet was kind enough to provide a visual aid of the one who was hitting on me. Her man is still not up to Homo Habilus. (see above).
3. My gym plays sports channels and Merrie Melodies cartoons 24 hours a day. I have the best workouts to Tom and Jerry.
4. When you're jogging on the road in Cape Town and want to cross the street but a car is coming, sometimes the driver will stop as though they are going to let you pass but then he will wag his pointer finger at you, left to right-- which in my culture means, "No, no" in a parental-scolding sort of manner. Here, it means "Yes, please walk back and forth". This may be why I got a lot of strange looks before I figured this out and would flip off the drivers.
5. I heard a rumor that there is a milk shortage.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
EzpunkX is my friend, Jupiter4120 is me-- this was our online conversation today
EzpunkX: hello?
JuPiTeR4120: hi
EzpunkX: what are you doing online?
JuPiTeR4120: i'm at work
JuPiTeR4120: where are you?
EzpunkX: work
JuPiTeR4120: how are you?
EzpunkX: doing good i got like 9 hours of sleep last night...
EzpunkX: how about you?
JuPiTeR4120: nice!
JuPiTeR4120: i also had great sleep last night and the CRAZIEST dream
EzpunkX: about what?
JuPiTeR4120: i dreamt i was home.
JuPiTeR4120: but this is the first time.
EzpunkX: yea i've been having weird dreams too.
JuPiTeR4120: i dreamt i was home and it was SOOO real. It was so real that when I woke up I had no idea where I was
EzpunkX: really?
EzpunkX: thats cool
JuPiTeR4120: yea, the dream was: I was in my bedroom, sleeping, and it was my first day home... and i woke up in my bedroom and came into the hallway and my family was there-- my mom was saying how happy she was i was home and my dad was really happy too... he gave me a big hug and then continued peeling potatoes-- there were SO many potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: like we were going to have a BIG party that night.
EzpunkX: haha
JuPiTeR4120: it was beautiful.. my dad in this new kitchen (the kitchen I imagine he has constructed--which hasn't actually happened yet!)
JuPiTeR4120: and all these potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: like piles and piles of potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: it was great.. and my mom hugged me
JuPiTeR4120: and i just felt really loved and everything was normal and i was home
EzpunkX: sounds like a nice dream
EzpunkX: and that you have a serious subconsious craving for potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: ha
JuPiTeR4120: i'm putting this conversation in my blog
JuPiTeR4120: hi
EzpunkX: what are you doing online?
JuPiTeR4120: i'm at work
JuPiTeR4120: where are you?
EzpunkX: work
JuPiTeR4120: how are you?
EzpunkX: doing good i got like 9 hours of sleep last night...
EzpunkX: how about you?
JuPiTeR4120: nice!
JuPiTeR4120: i also had great sleep last night and the CRAZIEST dream
EzpunkX: about what?
JuPiTeR4120: i dreamt i was home.
JuPiTeR4120: but this is the first time.
EzpunkX: yea i've been having weird dreams too.
JuPiTeR4120: i dreamt i was home and it was SOOO real. It was so real that when I woke up I had no idea where I was
EzpunkX: really?
EzpunkX: thats cool
JuPiTeR4120: yea, the dream was: I was in my bedroom, sleeping, and it was my first day home... and i woke up in my bedroom and came into the hallway and my family was there-- my mom was saying how happy she was i was home and my dad was really happy too... he gave me a big hug and then continued peeling potatoes-- there were SO many potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: like we were going to have a BIG party that night.
EzpunkX: haha
JuPiTeR4120: it was beautiful.. my dad in this new kitchen (the kitchen I imagine he has constructed--which hasn't actually happened yet!)
JuPiTeR4120: and all these potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: like piles and piles of potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: it was great.. and my mom hugged me
JuPiTeR4120: and i just felt really loved and everything was normal and i was home
EzpunkX: sounds like a nice dream
EzpunkX: and that you have a serious subconsious craving for potatoes
JuPiTeR4120: ha
JuPiTeR4120: i'm putting this conversation in my blog
Thursday, May 3, 2007
April 1, 2007
April Fool’s Day! Tessa and I begin the day by playing a little trick on Brandon and Curtis—the two most wholesome, apple-pie boys that we met on the bus to Tofo, who happen to be from Washington (Washington State that is—they always politely specify, in case anyone might get confused).
We cajole the local stubborn goat to their bungalow door (which entails Tessa alternating between screeches of terror and delight while I laugh hysterical, take photographs with one hand and attempt to lure the goat with grass with the other hand). Tessa and I can barely hold in our giggling as we near their door and so we knock loudly and run behind some shelter. Curtis sleepily opens the door and we bust out laughing. When Tessa and I travel together, we are really like children again—we giggle a lot.
Today is the first completely sunny day in Tofo, which is a relief since I was afraid of going back to Cape Town whiter than I left it. But thus far our time in Tofo has been filled with the sounds of water. The fat plop of heavy rain on a plastic minibus window. The laughter and screams of children just let out of school and walking along the road as we zoom through the massive puddles. The dull dense blank noise of lying underwater as the tide pulls your body out to sea. The best sound has been the constant simplicity of waves crashing—an overlapping crescendo and decrescendo. And sleeping in to the sound of drizzle on the roof of our reed bungalow.
On the day we arrive (March 29, 2007), it is only raining off and on, which adds drama to this paradise—the sun poking out randomly and the glossy reflection of sunshine off a wet, wide green palm leaf. I immediately dive into the Indian Ocean under an early rising moon, the sun simultaneously setting down shore.
Tessa, Brandon, Curtis and I have dinner at a restaurant a short walk down the beach where lightning bolts down over the water, cracking the black sky like an egg. We all run home together in the rain, laughing at the predicament—rain in paradise.
The next day (March 30, 2007), Tessa and I plan to take a long walk on the beach but as we begin the warmth of the ocean water running up against our feet is overpowered by the cold rain and sting of gusts of sand. So we run into a restaurant and wait out the rain.
We only manage to walk down the shore for about 10 minutes, then back the opposite direction into “town”, which consists of a very small food market of roughly 10 women and their tables filled with vegetables and grains. Also there are about 5 women selling fish and some men with craft stalls.
In Tofo, time is measured in sun rises, tides, the breaking of clouds, and the sun set. Everything else is a blank darkness, which one can subdivide as they like. Most of the travelers here are surfers or divers—they generally drink or do copious amounts of drugs. Tessa and I are neither and are content to have a drink, a laugh and head to bed in hopes of better weather the next day.
This tomorrow (March 31, 2007) has nice weather long enough for Tessa and I to take our long walk (roughly 2 hours?), which leads us down the inside curve of the crescent bay. It is good to travel with Tessa because I am able to be all parts of myself around her—the silly, the funny, the sad, the happy, the serious. And our talks are directionless in their flow. It is relaxing and refreshing to spend time with someone who knows you so well and who you know so well.
We make another visit to the market and decide to be bold—we buy prawns, carrots, aubergine (translation for the states: eggplant), onions, garlic, rice, 2 coconuts and oil (which the woman siphons into a tiny plastic bag and ties a knot at the top). Take notes because this meal was delicious!
But before we can be chefs, we first must be swimmers. Just after sunset, the strength of the current, height of the waves and deepening colors of the sky gives the swim a dangerous, taboo feeling. Tessa and I laugh as we play in the waves but we don’t stray too deep, making sure the sand is firmly underneath us.
Brandon and Curtis meet us at the hostel’s outdoor kitchen. Tessa and I spend most of our time shelling and de-veining the shrimp while Curtis uses a wine corkscrew to pop open 2 holes in the coconuts to draw out their milk, and Brandon amuses himself by taking pictures and video of the whole event (specifically all the tiny and not-so-tiny geckos that have gathered near the lantern to catch the insects attracted to the light).
The more time we spend wit Bran and Curtis, the more I truly enjoy their company. At first Tessa and I thought they were the two most freakishly polite boys we had ever met. Then she saw Brandon reading what looked like a evangelical book, so we thought they were missionaries! I said to myself, “Oh crap, they’re going to try to convert me!”—but they didn’t at all. They have been so absolutely sweet—Brandon, especially is so innocent, but very curious and genuine. Curtis is a bit older and not quite as doe-eyed but still completely kind and gentle. His whole presence is relaxing and content.
Today, (April 1, 2007), we all take a “sea safari”, which turns out to be equal parts rollercoaster happiness and rollercoaster nausea. Apparently Mo’bique is known for their whale sharks—which look like sharks but act like whales as they feed on plankton by filtering the water, as well as being harmless to people.
Luckily we’re put on a sea safari that Simon, Tessa’s dive guide who we bumped into in Maputo, is leading. We push the high-speed rubber boat into the water and against the waves. Somehow we manage to jump in just as we get the boat in deep enough so that the motor can be turned on. The driver kicks the engine into high gear as we crash into the crests of the waves head on and over the first wall of water. As we travel further out, the swells become huge and I’m squealing as we fly off each edge. We’re all gripping onto the ropes with white knuckles and soon one of the Tofo Scuba guys is climbing up into a high seat (about 7 feet above the boat) to help spot dark shadows in the clear blue water.
Pretty soon they’ve spotted a whale shark. The boat quickly zooms around in front of it and our fins and masks are on. Plop, plop into the water but the shark gets frightened and dives down deeper into the water.
We’re back on the boat not 5 minutes when a huge manta ray is spotted. Plop, plop. This manta ray is easily larger than I am. It hovers just feet from us for a while as its massive fins roll out to the sides.
The mixture of adrenaline, snorkeling in these huge swells and jumping in and out of the boat causes me to feel a bit nauseas but I steady myself and look towards land (which is what you’re instructed to do if you’re not feeling well since it’s the only point of reference that isn’t actually moving). I’m feeling better soon and enjoying the high speed search. The water is a deep blue and the sun is warm enough to dry us off pretty quickly (at least those not directly in the way of the ocean spray).
Luckily someone spots a school of dolphin nearby but unfortunately, they don’t seem to want to stay and play. We get a few moments glipse of the graceful arch of their backs and soon they’ve dove deep into the water.
A bit later, we’re also in the water, just feet from a “teenage” whale shark, which is roughly 5 or 6 meters. Everyone hovers at a respectful distance. Simon is even able to get some pictures of her underbelly. I don’t think I’ve ever swam with such a large animal before in my life. You float there in tossing sea, in absolute awe of its humbling size.
The rest of the day is uneventful in that lazy summer, beach life manner. Tessa and I make dinner and Curtis and Brandon join us while we eat outside under the cover of tangled vines and starlight.
We cajole the local stubborn goat to their bungalow door (which entails Tessa alternating between screeches of terror and delight while I laugh hysterical, take photographs with one hand and attempt to lure the goat with grass with the other hand). Tessa and I can barely hold in our giggling as we near their door and so we knock loudly and run behind some shelter. Curtis sleepily opens the door and we bust out laughing. When Tessa and I travel together, we are really like children again—we giggle a lot.
Today is the first completely sunny day in Tofo, which is a relief since I was afraid of going back to Cape Town whiter than I left it. But thus far our time in Tofo has been filled with the sounds of water. The fat plop of heavy rain on a plastic minibus window. The laughter and screams of children just let out of school and walking along the road as we zoom through the massive puddles. The dull dense blank noise of lying underwater as the tide pulls your body out to sea. The best sound has been the constant simplicity of waves crashing—an overlapping crescendo and decrescendo. And sleeping in to the sound of drizzle on the roof of our reed bungalow.
On the day we arrive (March 29, 2007), it is only raining off and on, which adds drama to this paradise—the sun poking out randomly and the glossy reflection of sunshine off a wet, wide green palm leaf. I immediately dive into the Indian Ocean under an early rising moon, the sun simultaneously setting down shore.
Tessa, Brandon, Curtis and I have dinner at a restaurant a short walk down the beach where lightning bolts down over the water, cracking the black sky like an egg. We all run home together in the rain, laughing at the predicament—rain in paradise.
The next day (March 30, 2007), Tessa and I plan to take a long walk on the beach but as we begin the warmth of the ocean water running up against our feet is overpowered by the cold rain and sting of gusts of sand. So we run into a restaurant and wait out the rain.
We only manage to walk down the shore for about 10 minutes, then back the opposite direction into “town”, which consists of a very small food market of roughly 10 women and their tables filled with vegetables and grains. Also there are about 5 women selling fish and some men with craft stalls.
In Tofo, time is measured in sun rises, tides, the breaking of clouds, and the sun set. Everything else is a blank darkness, which one can subdivide as they like. Most of the travelers here are surfers or divers—they generally drink or do copious amounts of drugs. Tessa and I are neither and are content to have a drink, a laugh and head to bed in hopes of better weather the next day.
This tomorrow (March 31, 2007) has nice weather long enough for Tessa and I to take our long walk (roughly 2 hours?), which leads us down the inside curve of the crescent bay. It is good to travel with Tessa because I am able to be all parts of myself around her—the silly, the funny, the sad, the happy, the serious. And our talks are directionless in their flow. It is relaxing and refreshing to spend time with someone who knows you so well and who you know so well.
We make another visit to the market and decide to be bold—we buy prawns, carrots, aubergine (translation for the states: eggplant), onions, garlic, rice, 2 coconuts and oil (which the woman siphons into a tiny plastic bag and ties a knot at the top). Take notes because this meal was delicious!
But before we can be chefs, we first must be swimmers. Just after sunset, the strength of the current, height of the waves and deepening colors of the sky gives the swim a dangerous, taboo feeling. Tessa and I laugh as we play in the waves but we don’t stray too deep, making sure the sand is firmly underneath us.
Brandon and Curtis meet us at the hostel’s outdoor kitchen. Tessa and I spend most of our time shelling and de-veining the shrimp while Curtis uses a wine corkscrew to pop open 2 holes in the coconuts to draw out their milk, and Brandon amuses himself by taking pictures and video of the whole event (specifically all the tiny and not-so-tiny geckos that have gathered near the lantern to catch the insects attracted to the light).
The more time we spend wit Bran and Curtis, the more I truly enjoy their company. At first Tessa and I thought they were the two most freakishly polite boys we had ever met. Then she saw Brandon reading what looked like a evangelical book, so we thought they were missionaries! I said to myself, “Oh crap, they’re going to try to convert me!”—but they didn’t at all. They have been so absolutely sweet—Brandon, especially is so innocent, but very curious and genuine. Curtis is a bit older and not quite as doe-eyed but still completely kind and gentle. His whole presence is relaxing and content.
Today, (April 1, 2007), we all take a “sea safari”, which turns out to be equal parts rollercoaster happiness and rollercoaster nausea. Apparently Mo’bique is known for their whale sharks—which look like sharks but act like whales as they feed on plankton by filtering the water, as well as being harmless to people.
Luckily we’re put on a sea safari that Simon, Tessa’s dive guide who we bumped into in Maputo, is leading. We push the high-speed rubber boat into the water and against the waves. Somehow we manage to jump in just as we get the boat in deep enough so that the motor can be turned on. The driver kicks the engine into high gear as we crash into the crests of the waves head on and over the first wall of water. As we travel further out, the swells become huge and I’m squealing as we fly off each edge. We’re all gripping onto the ropes with white knuckles and soon one of the Tofo Scuba guys is climbing up into a high seat (about 7 feet above the boat) to help spot dark shadows in the clear blue water.
Pretty soon they’ve spotted a whale shark. The boat quickly zooms around in front of it and our fins and masks are on. Plop, plop into the water but the shark gets frightened and dives down deeper into the water.
We’re back on the boat not 5 minutes when a huge manta ray is spotted. Plop, plop. This manta ray is easily larger than I am. It hovers just feet from us for a while as its massive fins roll out to the sides.
The mixture of adrenaline, snorkeling in these huge swells and jumping in and out of the boat causes me to feel a bit nauseas but I steady myself and look towards land (which is what you’re instructed to do if you’re not feeling well since it’s the only point of reference that isn’t actually moving). I’m feeling better soon and enjoying the high speed search. The water is a deep blue and the sun is warm enough to dry us off pretty quickly (at least those not directly in the way of the ocean spray).
Luckily someone spots a school of dolphin nearby but unfortunately, they don’t seem to want to stay and play. We get a few moments glipse of the graceful arch of their backs and soon they’ve dove deep into the water.
A bit later, we’re also in the water, just feet from a “teenage” whale shark, which is roughly 5 or 6 meters. Everyone hovers at a respectful distance. Simon is even able to get some pictures of her underbelly. I don’t think I’ve ever swam with such a large animal before in my life. You float there in tossing sea, in absolute awe of its humbling size.
The rest of the day is uneventful in that lazy summer, beach life manner. Tessa and I make dinner and Curtis and Brandon join us while we eat outside under the cover of tangled vines and starlight.
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