Cuddle Therapy

I love animals, except for some of the creepy crawly variety.  This past week, we spent two nights at a camp on our journey home from our village stay.  The best part of the camp was the welcoming committee...the four legged kind.  

When we arrived, no one seemed to be around.  Dad and Orville each started wandering off in search of assistance.    Our welcomers came dashing out, with tails wagging and yipping all around.  I wasted no time in climbing out of the car and starting to scratch ears and tummies.  With three dogs and only two hands, it was a complicated venture indeed.

A man who worked at the camp came over and started laughing when he saw me amid a pile of squirming puppies.  Between my fragments of Portuguese and his patience, we could at least greet each other and I could say where we were coming from and that sort of thing.  I also told him how much I adored the dogs.  He grinned, and called into the house for "Pumba."  He laughed and laughed at my face when a big old wart hog came wandering out of the house!  Soon I was trying to pet Pumba while being nipped at by three jealous pups.

The puppies followed us to our camp site and they stayed with us for both days.  Their owners were away and I think they were a little lonely.  The first morning, Mom came out and found them all asleep, two of them sleeping inside the cement fire pit, enjoying the warmth left by the ashes of the fire.  

Enjoying the residual warmth from the fire

Dad playing with Pumba

Pumba nibbling on my knees...it tickled!

My favorite picture

I was the first one out of bed on Friday morning.  The pups heard me up and started pouncing on my tent, clearly feeling playful.  I unzipped the flap and let them in just to keep them quiet, but they complicated the process of tying my shoes!  The one little monkey grabbed my deodorant and took off with it, while another one nudged the lid off of my trash basket and started pulling out tissues!  After getting a little bit of order restored, I took my journal out to write by the fire and watch the sunrise.  They had other plans.  First one, then two, then all three hopped up onto my lap!  I didn't mind in the least.  

Ferry across the Shire

Our journey of the past week required a river crossing.  The Shire River isn't very wide at the particular point we crossed, but it would be during the rainy season.  The surrounding area is gorgeous, as you can see from these pictures.

This picture above explains my comment in an earlier post about the Beira Hillbillies.  We packed every possible space, both in the car and tied to the roof rack!  We sat three people in the front, three in the second row, and two in the back along with luggage for all of us for five days, tents, sleeping bags, two 50kg bags of rice, teaching supplies, and an accordion. (On the way back, we didn't have the two bags of rice, but we gained two huge stalks of bananas and four (live) chickens.)

My parents!

The ferry can accommodate four vehicles at a time, with some careful parking.  The men use a hand-crank to move the ferry along the cables.  The river isn't wide, but the time to cross the river depends on the number of cars and the weight of the cargo. The ferry costs 80 meticais per vehicle (roughly $3).  

For smaller items and groups, a canoe presents a faster option.  Crossing the river in a dugout takes about five minutes.  As muzungus, we paid about $1 per person, but I doubt everyone else pays that rate! :)

I recently read a book about David Livingstone and suggested it to Mom.  She was reading it on this trip.  She brought a passage to my attention that mentioned Livingstone's crossing the "crocodile infested Shire River."  Our crossing didn't involve either crocodiles or hippos due to the activity in the area, but they still swim in the Shire.  On our return trip, I was offered a change to ride in one of the dugouts.  Of course I said yes!  

My Livingstone Moment

I felt the thrill of history in my brief canoe trip.  Livingstone probably had a few rides in the same kind of canoe in his day, on the very same river. 

Livingstone said, "“If you have men who will only come if they know there is a good road, I don't want them. I want men who will come if there is no road at all.” He also once stated, "I will go anywhere, provided it be forward."  I think I would have liked him.

The last ten days are flashes of memories of endless dirt coating my skin, staring children, a river crossing in a dugout canoe, African sunrises and sunsets, a pet warthog named Pumba, wall to wall people in a small brick church, mutumbu (goat intestines) and rice, and the Beira Hillbillies (I'll explain that later!).  I scribbled pages and pages in my journal as I sat on a painful reed mat in a small village in the province of Tete.  

I'll write more in the days to come, but for now, here a few glimpses.

Our dinner being prepared.  

A friend had peeled a stick of sugar cane for me to eat.  I love sugar cane, but it was challenging to eat gracefully especially with a group of twenty kids just sitting and watching me.

Dad playing with the kids.

Dugout canoe crossing the Shire River

Watching.  This is a small crowd.  At this point, the other thirty kids were off playing football.  

Sunset

The setting sun was beautiful tonight.  I just had to share a few pictures.  Those of you who have lived in Africa know there is nothing like an African sunset.

People of Mozambique

Today is just a picture post.  I'm enjoying my time here and tomorrow is actually officially two months since I landed in Mozambique.  The people I meet are always the highlight of my trips.  

Wildlife, Part 2

Our household wildlife keeps us entertained.  The lizards and geckos and birds may not be as cuddly as a puppy dog, but they do provide us with amusement.  (That reminds me of a little language quirk.  Dog in Portuguese is "cão," and is pronounced "cow."  Fortunately, we don't have many cows in the city, so we can generally assume someone is talking about a canine in Portuguese rather than a bovine critter in English.)  

This morning, Mom and I had breakfast on our veranda to enjoy the morning and the "wildlife."  We were looking at the various little birds that come into drink at our birdbath.  Mom was identifying them for me.  The birdie above is a European Bee-eater.  I think this morning could have been the start of my transition into an amateur birder.  Mom has loved birdwatching as long as I can remember.  This morning, she saw a Pygmy Kingfisher for the first time!  

As I started to write this, I realized I had forgotten the name of this bird.  So, with no context whatsoever, the following words were exchanged:

Me: Who was that little guy up in the branches?

Mom: Zacchaeus?  

I'm still giggling.  

Sunday, Sunday.

This week has gotten off to quite the start.

We began with a celebration.  Our church has a newly completed tin roof.  I can't imagine putting a roof on a building when the first task is to find a ladder.  Dad was finally able to find a ladder in town that could be borrowed/rented for a minimal fee.

We also had several special program elements to our service, with presentations of different certificates of completion and Communion.  Church lasted nearly four hours.  Once church ended, we had the usual chit chat outside of the church.  After that, we headed to the car to go home for lunch, only to see this:

Clearly, lunch was a little bit delayed.  I thought it was wonderful that several of the church men, all in their Sunday best, didn't hesitate to help change the tire.  Eventually, the younger generation became curious and came over to check out the action.  

The spare was put on with minimal difficulty, but the spare needed air because it has a slow leak.  So, we went back to town and stopped at one place to see if the damaged tire could be fixed.  Then we went a second place, because apparently we stopped at the wrong place and needed to go further down the road.  The guys at the second place told us the tire cannot be fixed, but they were able to put air in the spare tire for us.

The only challenge is that Dad was to be leaving early Monday morning to go north for a week of teaching with a group.  Most places are closed on Sundays.  It's really foolish to drive anywhere around here without a spare.  So, he woke up a little earlier on Monday and left the city a little later in order to get a new tire.  A new tire here costs about $290.  Isn't that insane????  We have asked around about the price, but that does seem to the standard price.  It would be possible to get a "used" tire, but given how rough the roads can be, I doubt there would be much benefit.  

The Sun is Back!

Rio Savane is a peninsula, but it looks deceptively like an island upon approach.  Approaching, I might add, is part of the fun.  After parking the 4x4 in the parking garage (read: palm branch shade), the next step is to wait for the boat.  Depending on the tide, the boat may or may not be able to come all of the way to the shore.  If it can't reach you, you go to it.  

The destination across the inlet looks like it was designed by the Swiss Family Robinson.  The only boundaries on land are made of bamboo and palm branches.  Most of the buildings are only a thatched roof with support beams.  Walls would block the ocean breeze, and we can't have that.  

After paying the entry fee (about $2.50 USD), the next stop can be placing your order at the restaurant for lunch, the toilet, or else going straight onto the beach.  The path to the beach has conveniently placed boards to provide support.  Once on the beach, the choice of sun or a shady, thatched baraca is yours.  I always choose sun first! 

While visiting, it's also possible to see Josephine, a delicate little duiker.  She will lick the sea salt from your hand.  I loved rubbing behind her ears.  The skin there is so soft!  I don't like seeing wild animals in captivity, but I will say that she does have a very large enclosure.   

A walk on the beach might reveal a number of little treasures.  Yesterday, I found a sand dollar.  

The boat back across the inlet leaves at 3, 4, and 5.  Waiting for the boat yesterday was the prefect time to see a gorgeous setting sun.

The evening tide does not let the boat reach the shoreline.  Instead, everyone has to make an ungraceful exit over the side of the boat and walk to shore.  I hopped over the edge gladly.  The girls behind me (apparently first time visitors) squealed when they saw the water reached the middle of my thighs.  

Before you drive off,  you need to pay the daily fee of $0.90 for parking.  Then it's off to home after another wonderful day in Mozambique.

Rainy Days of September

I have been in Moz seven weeks and yet this week has held all of the rain!  The rain was minimal until today, mostly just sprinkles lasting five minutes or less.  Today was an indoor day.  I stepped out onto the porch for a while to enjoy the sound of the rain on the tin roof.  Eventually, I got my camera and a brolly to try to get some rainy day snaps, but the strong wind made that quite a challenge.  

This bedraggled looking kitty doesn't belong to us but frequently takes residence on our veranda furniture.  He/she is very skittish and dashes off, even into the rain, whenever we repossess the veranda.  

The past week has been busier than most for my parents.  We have a couple visiting from the USA and my parents have been busy working with them on different projects.  I've declared it the perfect time to take life even easier, partly because it means fewer bodies fitting into the Prado.  Instead, I've taken up some of the house cleaning duties, read a number of books, editing and sorted some of my thousands of photographs, played Scrabble, and spent about an hour a day in the pool.  Sadly, my pool time was compromised today due to the inclement weather. I've also been doing a fair bit of research online for some future options.  No decisions have been made yet, but several serious options are emerging from my many daydreams.  

Windy Palms

Walking the beach today was truly rough.  The tide came in very high and the waves were violent.  We haven't had much rain, just showers of rain that last barely long enough to settle the dust, but the wind has been strong.  

Early in the day, we had been reading about Isaac reaching Louisiana.  I have never lived in an area affected by tropical storms and hurricanes.   The palm trees blowing and bending in the wind probably would have looked mild to a more seasoned pair of eyes.  As my mother and I observed how high the tide came just from this wind and recent full moon, we couldn't help but think about how much devastation would be caused by a cyclone.  There is something eerily beautiful about stormy weather at the beach, but it wouldn't take much for that beauty to become destructive.  Thankfully, the island of Madagascar helps to shield this part of Moz from some of the cyclones and tropical storms of the Indian Ocean.  

Wildlife

Wildlife has not been a typical part of my Moz experience thus far, unless you count geckos, birds, and the stray cat that sleeps on our veranda.  However, one day last week brought several species into my lens. 

Dad picked up this snappish fellow on the beach.  He was less than amused at having an audience.  

On the drive home, we encountered a small troop of baboons in a grove of gum trees.  Most snobbishly ignored us.

This one looked like he wanted to leap through my open window.  Can we say, "Cheeky monkey...er, baboon?"  :)

The next creature declined a photo.  Truthfully, I couldn't think for a few minutes after we met, anyway.  Do you see the smooth line in the sand that goes through the center of the picture?

My parents have not seen a snake in their six months here in Moz, unless you count one dead snake on the road.  Well, we were at the beach on our day off this week, a bit further north of the city.  After having had enough sun, we decided to relocate to one of the little thatched shelters for some shade.  As I walked over the sand dune, I saw the brown sand in front of me twitch and move at an astonishing pace towards the brush that grows over the dunes.    I jumped back and said something along the lines of "Ohmygoshijustsawasnakeitwentthatway."  Dad gave me a strange look and passed me to continue on his way into the shade.  Mom also walked by me, but she at least attempted to understand what I had said.  

I didn't think either believed me, and then I realized they simply weren't bothered.  I don't know if I will ever reach that level of comfort with the more scaly elements of nature.  To them, a snake was here but isn't any longer.  To me, a snake was here so we shouldn't be!  I did move to sit under the shade with them, but I did not forget that I was a mere three feet from the brush which now sheltered "it."  

As we left the beach, we asked a fellow named Lloyd what types of snakes live on the dunes.  When I described it (three feet of sand colored slither), he told us it was likely a green bush snake.  They are members of the constrictor family and prefer lizards for dinner.  Their name is because their heads are a bright green, even though their bodies are more olive toned.  Lloyd said he witnessed a green bush snake climbing a palm tree. 

Sadly, this next story has no picture to accompany it.  As we walked along the beach, my dear mother looked out into the surf.  "Hope, there's a nice big conch shell!  Go get it!"  The beach here in our city doesn't usually have nice shells.  So, I walked into the water in search of the shell.  It looked too dense to be shell, but the waves kept tossing it around.  I looked closer and told Mom I didn't think it was a conch.  I couldn't get a proper glimpse of it.  (The water in a port city isn't exactly known for its clarity.)  I thought it looked like perhaps bone or coral or....something.  Mom told me to pick it up so we could see it.  Figuring whatever it was had been washed by the salt water and bleached by the sun, I grabbed it.

And that, my friends, is when we realized I had just pulled a pig's skull out of the Indian Ocean.