short stories

1) Wild animals

And here we are… we have a dog… and not whatever dog !

His name is Huxley. He is a beautiful husky. Plays a lot and guards the house whenever he wants to (he runs away from the house quite often to go and visit some friends on the other side of town). He already killed a chicken and a duck at our neighbours’ and is very fussy with food (eats only fresh sausage!). But we love him!

 (photos rhinos, girafe, zebre)

Other animals live in Africa. We’ve been able to admire a good sample during our 2 very short (too short) trips to the Kruger Park. We still do not have time to do some tourism! You won’t believe it but in Africa it’s hard work every day!!!!

2) DIRE

It took 4 months and quite a big amount of money (in between taxes and fees to the accountant who did the job for us) to get this very nice document that finally allows us to stay in the country instead of getting out every month to renew our visas. To get it, we also had to go to Maxixe and present ourselves to the immigration office. Very interesting visit… We learnt that ID pictures needed in Mozambique are smaller than everywhere else and with a perfect and immaculate background… that we’re not allowed to any deletion on the form and, even more important, write everything with the same colour (one line in black and one in blue is not allowed)… we learnt that the most important information is to know our parents’ names… and finally, that queuing 4 times to get an OK on the form is better than 1. Welcome to Mozambique!

3) Receiving a parcel (or mail)

Vilankulo’s post office by itself is worth the visit. Imagine a very large room with a counter. Behind the counter, a tiny wooden table and a very small iron cupboard.

We sometimes get our mail in the funniest ways… most of the times just because someone from the guest house next door goes and pick up his mail and the postman gives him ours at the same time… not very intimate but quite efficient!

Generally we need to go from time to time to the post office and check if something has arrived for us. The postman opens the cupboard and takes out a big pile of envelopes. He slowly and carefully checks them all and eventually finds something for us. In the meantime, it might be very useful to check what’s hidden in a very small box on the counter : a huge pile of envelopes, some dated 2006, is left there for everyone to check. There, I found post cards for me. When you finally get your mail you need to pay. A variable amount in between 0,5 and 1 €.

For parcels, it’s a little bit more complicated. Each parcel has to be opened in the presence of the customs officer. His office is next door, but since he’s not always there or available, you might have to come back a few times. This VIP of the Mozambican State checks all the stuff you received and decides whether you have to pay duties on them or not. Apparently food (in small quantities), magazines and books are duty free but shoes, clothes and Hi-Fi have to be cleared… So please, do not send me any Prada shoes or Gucci bags… they might become very very expensive!

4) Getting electricity / Power grid

This is not as funny… We discovered that Vilankulo is divided on a grid. Basically we have the riches in the north and in the south, the “middle class” and the poor and some rich in the middle. We are in the middle. And it seems that we won’t get electricity any time soon because in this side of town people are not rich enough to pay for it. If we really want the cables to reach us, we’ll have to pay something in between 2000 and 3000 €. We therefore decided to buy our own generator and use either the genny or the torch !

This situation might evolve since ENMO, the company that was in charge of the power in town has recently been kicked out of town. Apparently they were not doing what they promised they would do. We strongly hope that those who will replace them  will take a better care of our side of town.

And, just for the pleasure of the story, when I say that they’ve been kicked out it’s litteral : it seems that they even tried to get to the big generator at night and “sabotage” it and they got caught by a few policemen who nicely drove them outside the boundaries of the town!

5) Driving in Maputo…  

In this town, you can find a policeman at every corner. This means that you’re very frequently stopped and might get a fine for whatever reason.

Just a few examples :

-   We got a 40US$ because I did a U-Turn where i twas not allowed (OK I know I did something wrong but the trafic is already so cahotic that it’s not a big deal !)

-   They tried to give us a fine because we do not speak Portuguese

-   They tried to give us a fine because our car was overloaded and on the back seats we were carrying tires instead of passengers

-   They tried to give us a fine because we do not have an international driving licence (an agreement between France and Mozambique allows us to drive with a French licence)

-   They tried to give us a fine, for nothing… just because Mr Policeman wanted us to pay him a « refresco » (cold drink in Portuguese) !

I’m writing “they tried” because now we know what to do with them…  when the excuse is too ridiculous we just take out our cell phone and tell them that we don’t understand and that we’re calling the French Embassy to get some help… they calm down very quickly!

6) Changing the springs of our good old car.

In Vilankulo, it took 5 months… You just have to know it’s gonna take a long time and prepare yourself to be super shaken in the meantime !

How could it take 5 months ?

Easy… the brother of the cousin of the mechanic’s father has to go everywhere in Mozambique to look for second hand springs that will fit with our 1991 Toyota Landcruiser. If you take into account a few trips he did but forgetting why he was travelling, you quickly get to 5 months!

7) Negociating salaries with a mozambican staff.

Here is the story…

One morning, at the very beginning of our cooperation with them, our skippers Crimildo and Isaac arrive very very late, with a very closed face.

We ask many times if there is a problem.. no answer.

When we arrive on the island for lunch break, we meet their brother (who speaks a very good English).

Denis starts a very long conversation with our skippers, their brother but also the ranger who guards the island and a few fishermen passing by… everybody wants to know what’s happening and everyone has something to say!

It’s important to know that at that point of their history with us, the 2 skippers did not have a contract and were paid on a daily rate.

1st point : they want to get some money for their food every day. This is not a problem. We can go on!

Second point : they say they are not happy with the money they get and they want to get their monthly wage. We try to explain them that the daily rate they get is higher than the monthly rate divided by the number of days they would work. It takes quite a while to understand that this is not the problem. The problem is that they want to be paid at the end of the month, even if this means getting less money than day by day. Why? Because the money they get day by day they spend immediately whereas the money they get at the end of the month they can try to save.

End of the conference and of the strike ! they’ll get less money but all at once and they’ve been very happy ever since!

8) Vilankulo’s hospital

One evening I go to bed with quite a big pain in the ribs. It lasts all the day after. Around 7pm, while I’m selling our wonderful dive trips to a potential customer, it becomes even more painful and gets to the chest… I start panicking… I cannot breathe anymore… We call a friend to get the number of the only Doctor in Vilankulo but unfortunately he is not in town and suggests us to go to the emergency at the hospital. We drove by a few times and really did not wish to visit it one day. But there we go… me juggling with the pain and shouting in the car while Denis calls everyone we know in town to see of we can find another doctor or if someone can come and assist us with Portuguese. We arrive there : small table, dirty screen, and a very nice and smiling nurse who absolutely wants to know my parents’ names before looking at me. He stays very calm facing a Denis who’s shouting at him “I want to see a doctor… where’s the doctor”.

They absolutely want me to lay on a bed but I cannot. If I lay down I stop breathing… it doesn’t matter… they force me… but they have to let me go if they want me to stop screaming!

Understanding that there might be something wrong they put me in a « room » where are 3 beds and the worst mosquito nets I’ve ever seen ! An “expat” arrives to help us with the translation. Unfortunately she cannot do much as the guys we see are nurses and not doctors and do not have a clue on what I might be having. They give me some paracetamol and a transfusion of whatever serum. Little by little I calm down and the pain fades…

2 hours later the nurses are our best friends, they want us to leave them our French magazines, they introduce us to their wives and they very nicely offer me to spend the night at the hospital… after a quick look to the mosquito nets and to the sheets, I decide I’d rather die in my bed than risking to get malaria inside the hospital.

Since then I saw a doctor (a Nigerian volunteer) who didn’t find anything special but gave me pain killers and antibiotics and now I’m fine.

In case you might need it, you have to know that visiting a doctor at the hospital and getting a medication doesn’t cost anything (0,14 € whatever the number of pills they give you). You just need to be a little bit patient and be ready to queue for 1h to 1h and a half while 2 nurses count the pills you need for the treatment and put them in small plastic envelopes before calling you at the counter.

In memory of my grand mother…