I will stare at you so hard
At this point in my travels, I’m pretty used to being the “different ” one – the white skin and blond hair being the obvious giveaway – having people look at me while walking down the street. It was different here, though. People stared. Everyone stared. And they stared hard, relentlessly, shamelessly, with mouth agape, turning their head to follow me walking down the road. It’s darn hard not to feel it, and even harder to act as if it isn’t happening. I think I wore a little smile of embarrasment as I walked down the road. And it never changed the whole time I was in Pebane.
I asked people along the way if they knew about a campground or a place to stay. The best I could get was the one obvious hotel in town, which also hosted a small restaurant/bar. As I walked in, the whole place fell silent and all heads turned my way. The way I usually handle this, when people are staring at me as if I’m some strange, unworldly creature is to simply say “Hello.” This breaks the silence and brings some reality back to the situation. As everyone replied, I walked up to the counter and asked if they had a room available.
The lady was very welcoming and showed me to my room. She told me to let her know when I wanted to take a shower and she would prepare the water for me. “Now please.” Within minutes she had a bucket of water prepared for me in the bathroom. (Lack of running water in these parts means that bucket showers are the norm…I’m an expert now; this makes me think back to my novice days on the cargo boat in Bolivia where I honestly had no idea what I was doing.) As I went to bathe, she asked me if I wanted them to prepare some lunch for me. “Sure! That would be great! What do you have?” “Well, whatever you’d like! We have chicken, fish, or beef.” While it didn’t exactly sound like ‘whatever you’d like’, I was eager to eat a good meal and ordered the chicken – always the safest bet.
When I came out from the shower she informed me that she had asked all around and there was no chicken, fish, or beef to be found. “So, I ordered you lobster at the restaurant across the street.” Well, I guess that’ll have to do…and it did. When I walked over, they had prepared two lobsters, along with a huge plate of fries, a nice salad, and a basket of bread. All that for $4! After the shower and the meal, I felt like a completely new person…I had nearly forgotten about the hellride earlier that day. Nearly, that is…except that my body felt the equivalent as the day after a roller derby match. And that soreness in every nook and crannie lasted for days.
I made an instant friend – the 15 year-old daughter of the hotel lady; or, rather, she made an instant friend, taking me (and showing me off) all around town. People stared at us and when she met her friends she introduced me as her friend. “She’s not your friend,” they would say, naturally wondering how in the past few hours she acquired this strange new white friend. “Yes she is,” and she would introduce me to everyone. After a day, I had half the teenage population knowing me.
I spent the two days walking around (I had a nice escort on a walk out to the beautiful long and wide beach), and answering all sorts of questions. One group of guys had some interesting questions. They invited me to sit with them and bought me beer the whole time bombarding me with questions about September 11th. It was refreshing, actually…the usual conversation with locals goes something like this: Where are you from? I would like to go there. Do you have a job here? Just traveling? You must have a lot of money. Are you married? No? Do you have kids? No?! Do you have a boyfriend? NO?!?!
They find it incredible that I am single and without any children. Most women my age have a few children by now. The conversation (if it’s a guy) usually proceeds as follows: Do you want a boyfriend? Can I have your phone number? You don’t have a phone?!?!?! WHY?!?! They find it unbelievable that I don’t have a cell phone. Cell phones here are status symbols, sort of. That and bicycles. Someone once told me “In order to get a wife in Zambezi province, you need a bicycle.”
I was excited to find out that the last day I planned on being there was a holiday and there would be a big party with traditional dancing. Then I made a stupid decision. I accepted a free (and very comfortable) ride out of town the morning of the festival. It was only stupid because I’m sure I missed a great day of genuine culture and fun, but my body was still aching from the ride into town, and I knew the only way out (if I didn’t take this ride) would involve even more discomfort (not to mention a ridiculous 2am departure).
I did get to see a little of the ceremony in the morning, though. The holiday was Victory Day, celebrating the signing of the agreement between Portugal and Mozambique, granting independance to Mozambique. In the early morning, everyone gathered around the square where a man dressed in a very baggy military-type uniform marched out to raise the flag. He struggled long and hard to secure the flag to the rope as everyone stood and waited. As the flag was raised, everyone sang what I can only guess was the national anthem. When it was all over, the man turned around and marched out in an odd sort of way you could tell he was trying to be official, but was obviously not well trained. It was awkward enough to garner laughter from the crowd.
After the flag raising ceremony, nearly the entire town’s population walked up to the other end of town, where the next ceremony would take place. It was a walk uphill, and as I walked up, I looked back on the wide street, flooded with people, mostly children (as is the majority of the population). We gathered around another square while a wreath of flowers was brought out. A group of ladies sang a song about “Liberty Mozambique” and that was it for me…I turned around and left the celebration, sadly, to get my free ride out of town.
Tags: Mozambique, Mozambique, Tag Index
Tania
November 28th, 2006 at 2:33 pm
hey Tania!
hope your staying safe out there. i think of you from time to time. Happy Thanksgiving if you even had one like it…
December 2nd, 2006 at 10:20 pm
Two lobsters for five bucks! Beats the hell outta Baja. You’re getting stared at now, wait’ll you get to India. Glad you’re having a good time.
DS
December 18th, 2006 at 10:04 pm
Hilarious entry!
I used to have serious problems with staring. Im talking near nervous breakdowns. It took a LONG time for me to stop avoiding eye contact (which only worsens the situation) Saying “hello” is certianly best. 🙂 heh
“It was awkward enough to garner laughter from the crowd.”
Seriously, people were laughing at him?? LOL!