And we're off! Again! The taxi ride started out well enough. We hitchhiked with a nice local guy to the taxi rank who negotiated a fair taxi fare for us to get to our next destination. The taxi ride started out uneventful enough, and then, as we got closer, the classic Moz (slash a lot of Africa) phenomenon occurred where they cram as many people as they can into the taxi. We probably had upwards of 22 people in a taxi that is maybe supposed to hold 12. Awesome. And I'm all fine and dandy with this. Trust me, this is the norm. But, what made this ride especially eventful was the chickens. Cause it's not just people they try and cram in there, it's cargo too, including live chickens.
I got up close and personal with a nice and mangy chicken. It's owner was given the oh so comfortable spot of stooping over my sitting self, supporting himself with one hand, and holding his sickly chicken by the feet in the other. For all those that are unfamiliar with chickens, when you pick them up by their feet and hold them upside down they more or less play dead. Except they're not. Cause they still blink and flap their wings and freak out every once and awhile aka doing creepy shit. And my ultimate fear, peck. Okay, it's true, I have never witnessed a chicken pecking at a person, but doesn't mean it doesn't happen. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my leg. And of course, this is the day that it's so hot that I wear a dress on the taxi when I normally wear jeans to be prepared for exactly these types of situations. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg. And of course my leg is not normal or intact, but has lots of tiny open wounds from the mosquito attack I endured in Vilinculos and subsequent itching. Fan-fucking-tastic. So this half dead in more ways than one chicken is nice and cuddly with my bare leg riddled with open wounds. I am thoroughly convinced I am going to pick up a chicken disease of some sort.
Eventually I was gratefully shuffled to a new seat in the next row back. I thought I was free of the gnarly chickens, but oh no, life is never that simple. Now I have live chickens roosting at my feet. Well theoretically they are under my seat, but these chickens are getting all up in each other's space, and pecking each other (see! valid fear! pecking each other is not far from pecking me! mother fuckers...), which then causes them to squawk and flap and scare the living shit out of me. Oh yeah, and rub up all on my bare, open-wounded ankles. Chicken disease x 2. Awesome. So here I am, sitting patiently, quietly, just waiting for these chickens to freak the fuck out. Because in between freak outs, they stay perfectly still and quiet. And then all of sudden SQUAWK! and wings beating at my feet. The anticipation definitely made the whole situation more nerve racking and my reactions way over the top. And I swear to god chickens can smell fear. There was nothing to do but put up my feet on the seat in front of me and laugh hysterically. At least that way all the other people in the taxi were laughing with me and not just at me. Every once in awhile, a nice older baba man helped herd the chickens back into their place when they had totally invaded my personal space. The guy next to me asked me if I was afraid of chickens to which I could only answer "Yes" because I don't think he knew enough English to understand "Listen, I'm not afraid of much, but being enclosed in small spaces with animals who do not want to be in that space with me is one of my fears. At the end of the day, instincts are going to win out and god knows what that means for me". Eventually the chickens disembarked and soon enough we arrived at our destination. Well our layover per se. Next mode of transportation: ferry. Hotness. Gotta love the boats. And then another taxi onto the final destination of Tofo, aka paradise:
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| View from the lounge chairs at our hostel... be jealous, very jealous. |
I pretty instantly fell in love with Tofo. I have been to some pretty amazing beaches all over the world, from the South Pacific to Europe to the Caribbean (I know, I sound like a spoiled brat), and this was one of the most amazing beaches I have ever been at. Perfect water temperature, perfect waves, just awesome. I could of stayed there forever, and I almost did.
Our first day in Tofu we did some snorkeling to try and see whale sharks (unsuccessful. boo!) and another dive. This was the girls first dive post-cert so it was pretty exciting. Luckily, the conditions were definitely a little better than in Vil. Still tough currents and choppy, but viz was much better. Made it a little more relaxed. It didn't hurt that all our dive masters thought us four girls were the most hysterical things they had ever seen. Our head dive master reminded me so much of the guy who certed me in Belize that we had an instant bond and I felt like I knew him forever, unclear if he felt quite the same way.... And then the other two guys just completed the triad: Lobo, who I insisted on calling El Lobo and growling (woo! nitrogen sickness!) and then a Daniel Radcliffe/Elijah Wood look-alike (this is still a hotly debated topic between Claire and I). I was supposed to go on one more dive but was exhausted and clearly going a little loopy from all the underwater time so decided to opt out and relax and enjoy Christmas.
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| Me passed out post-snorkel, pre-dive. See why I almost stayed here forever?! |
We spent the rest of our time at Tofo enjoying all it had to offer, good food, good drink, good people and good partying. Including a chance to reunite with our amazing Mozambique hosts from our travels up North!
Gotta love Christmas in a tropical summer paradise. Go Africa.
We did have another adventurous taxi ride. I had been trying to cheer up Claire for a couple days about Christmas, cause she was away from her home and family and traditions. Of course token Jew over here was just fine. Anyway, I kept reminding her how awesome and lucky we were to be spending Christmas in a tropical paradise on the beach. I mean, what could be better?! Claire, being the good sport she is, smiled and nodded and thanked me for my words of wisdom. And then on Christmas Eve we ended up on a taxi ride of death. We weren't even supposed to be on this taxi. But, of course the closest ATM was not working and we had to go another town over to get cash, which none of us were too happy about. I mean, who wants to be spending their Christmas Eve in taxis in sweltering heat trying to find an ATM? And then we unsuspectingly ended up in this death trap. Awesome. Claire and I couldn't help but laugh as we watched our lives flash before our eyes as the driver was going at least 160 kph (do the conversion... I dare you...) without slowing down for turns, passing like a mad man, and using the shoulder like it was his own personal lane. Basically, driving like a banshee. You know it's bad when even the locals are acting concerned. I have realized that I laugh in near death experiences. Pretty sweet defense mechanism if I say so myself. Mature or immature? Unclear. But, definitely entertaining. Anyway, I looked at Claire, and was like "See. This is Africa teaching us a lesson. We were getting all amped on spending our Christmas holidays enjoying ourselves in the sun and surf in this tropical paradise. But, oh no. She is teaching us we should be grateful to just be alive. That is, if we make it out of this. It's the little things in life Claire, the little things. Africa. You cruel mistress. AWA - Africa wins again." There was this adorable little infant sitting next to us and so Claire and I started praying to God, "Please God, please get us there safely, if not for our sake then to save this poor, little innocent baby. Amen." I guess she heard us because we made it to the other end safe and alive. Christmas miracle my friends. Even for the Jew. Thank you God.
I met some awesome people in Tofo, but my favorites had to be these Peace Corps volunteers from Namibia who were at the end of their service so were totally my style with an almost jaded realistic perspective on Africa and aid/development work. We got along like peas in a pod. Didn't hurt that they were all West coasters, one had links to DC, another was a reproductive rights fanatic like myself, and the other spent some solid years in the SC and insisted on calling me Westside. A nice little taste of home. Good times for sure.
And so we come to the end of the time in Mozambique. Sad. So sad that I actually opted to stay an extra day at the beach with my new friends.
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| This is Namibia + San Diego surfer bum + goth Afrikaaner who calls himself Havoc (actually a huge teddy bear if you can believe it or not) |
I then had an early morning eight hour bus ride back to Maputo. We got in in the early afternoon so I couldn't resist the temptation to return to the amazing fabric store and indulge myself. So beautiful and a perfect way to end an amazing trip in an amazing country, taking a little piece of it home with me.
The next morning I was on a bus at 6 am back to big, bad South Africa. But, oh, the adventure doesn't end here...
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