Inhaca Island

On Friday we set sails for Inhaca island.

"Inhaca Island is a small-inhabited island, lying just 37 km off the Mozambican capital of Maputo, on the periphery of a large estuarine bay. On the fringe of the tropics, it has a wealth of breathtaking beaches, coral reefs and exotic marine life on offer.

The island features large areas of unspoiled evergreen forest and bush land and large areas of its land and shores have been protected as natural reserve since 1976, providing a unique and pristine environment to enjoy." (http://www.destination.co.za/mozambique/index.html)

So as I was saying, we were up bright and early Friday morning to catch the boat from Baixa (downtown) at 8am. Of course our promptness was not appreciated and we didn't end up leaving until nearly 9am. I had a feeling the boat ride might get a little uneasy so I skipped out on breakfast, good thing I did. Coming out of the port was uneventful and actually quite pleasant. I had dozed off for a little bit to be greeted with a "[Thud]" as the hull of our boat slammed down on the backside of a huge wave. Boat survived, we survived, all the better for the experience ;)

We arrived nearly 2 hours later on the shore of Inhaca where we had to take a smaller boat to get onto land since the water was not deep enough for our vessel.

Kevin, Jose, and I did not book a place to stay ahead of time, we figured we would just wing it. So we started asking around and eventually stayed at the same sight as the rest of our friends with Tevish. In English he calls himself Joshua, and no, I have no idea how that translates. Our friends had planned their adventure for sometime so they were prepared with tents, and mats, and packs full of camping gear. We had the clothes on our back and a change clothes. Tevish, our saviour, rented us a tent and a mattress to go inside the tent. Leave it to me and I'll always find a way.

Our first night was kind of rough, at least for me. I don't think 10 minutes went by where I didn't wake up and wonder why I was freezing cold in summer in Africa? It just didn't quite make sense to me.

At around 7am the sun came up and started to heat up the tent so I was finally able to get 2 hours of solid shut eye.

We were literally camping on the land of Tevish's mother's house. She basically lives there and rents out the space to campers or if you are very fussy she will even rent you an actual room to sleep in. There are outdoor shower facilities with a door made of a blanket which blows freely in the wind. So you have two options, don't shower, or shower quickly. I chose the latter.

I woke up Saturday and had to scavenge for some breakfast. What a way to start my birthday. On top of that my phone died and I didn't bring my charger so there was no way for the outside world to contact me. Luckily, I have great friends who gave me gifts for my birthday. Kevin, bought me a coconut. Jose, bought me an orange. And I treated myself to a huge fish dinner. It was perfect ;)

Saturday night Jorge took us into the mountains on his ATV quad bike. See the picture because it is kind of difficult to describe. Anyway, we were going up the mountain and we never got past 20 km/h so don't worry mom and dad.

It was pitch black every direction I looked, and after about 20 minutes we were getting a little anxious to know where on earth Jorge was taking us. Then all of a sudden we heard the Mozambican tunes filling the air. It was a dance competition. A stage had been setup - and by that I mean they put a few ropes up to hold back the crowd and stomped down the grass - and there were teams of dancers taking turns doing what seemed like impromptu performances. I offered to perform a reggae dance, but nobody took me up on my offer. Something must have been lost in translation I guess.

Sunday morning I woke up and noticed the beach had grown exponentially. Jorge told me that the tide goes out every morning. For those unfamiliar with such scenarios, basically the oceans retreats and reveals a maze of sand paths under water from Inhaca island to Portuguese Island which is about 1 kilometer away. There is about 6 inches of water above these sand paths and if you are not careful the current will come back in and suddenly you will have a long swim back to shore, or worse yet, it will drag you out to the ocean.

Well I think you can all guess what I did next. I tried to walk on water from Inhaca island to Portuguese island. None of my friends would come with me, they were still drowsy from their restful sleeps. So off I went.

There were dozens of women out in the middle of the ocean fishing, or would you say hunting, for crabs or some other shellfish. I'm really not sure. All I know is that they couldn't speak Portuguese or English so I had to resort to sign language to try and get some direction on which sand paths to follow to get from Inhaca Island to Portuguese Island without having to swim.

Well, I can say that I made it about 70% of the way from Inhaca Island to Portuguese Island before the tide came back in and I had to turn back and sprint back to shore. I got a little cut on my toe and a tonne of laughs from the women who had long since returned to shore with their catch. Lesson learned, when locals go, you should probably go too.

For some information on Inhaca Island
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inhaca_Island
http://realtravel.com/inhaca-journals-j2368619.html

For more information on the Yamaha Rhino ATV
(http://www.yamaha-motor.com/outdoor/products/modelhome/592/0/home.aspx)

My Birthday Party

So Kevin and I hosted a little birthday party at our flat last Wednesday. We did it on Wednesday because Thursday was a holiday and on my actual birthday (on Saturday) we were going to be out of town.

So in "me" fashion I sent out a last minute text on Tuesday telling everyone to come over Wednesday night at 8pm. At 6pm on Wednesday Kevin and I still hadn't purchased any food or beverages for the party so we went to Shoprite, "Vamos!"

Shoprite is almost like a slice of North America in Maputo. It is a large grocery store stocked with all the food and household products one could ever need. It's like a Mozambican Walmart except they never "rollback prices." Instead they charge a premium because of the wide convenience of having all the products you need in one source. Otherwise, I would have to go probably 3 or 4 different small shops to get all the things we were looking for.

Anyway, we came out of the store with empty pockets and hands full of groceries. We went home and had dinner and tidied the place and showered and what not. 8pm came and went and it was only the three of us, Kevin, Jose, and moi. 8:30pm went by...no change.

8:55pm Jose says, "Matt, I don't think anyone is showing up." To which I respond, "Why are you so negative? Have some faith will you? Besides, I'm happy if its only the three of us. We have food and music. What else could I ask for?"

[Ding-Dong] 5 car loads of people came and the birthday celebrations began!!!

Gil Vicente

So last Wednesday I did what I never thought I would, I sang at a karaoke bar. I went to the theatre before so I guess I was just inspired by the arts. It was a musical on the changes women have gone through in Mozambique over the past century. I was shockingly attentive during the whole performance, clapping enthusiastically after every scene. I'm not sure if my keen attention span had something to do with the dancers costumes (I will leave it at that) or the uncomfortable bench I sat on.

After the theatre Jose and I walked over to Gil Vicente at 295 Avda. Samora Machel (258)82-323-7300 to listen to some live music and relax with some friends. A list of songs was passed around and of course I put my name beside Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry." I thought it was to determine which songs were the most popular so that the band knew what type of music to play. Then next thing I knew I heard, "Matteus, vem no estágio" (Matthew, come on the stage). Of course my friends were not letting this opportunity pass by so they pointed me out, "Here he is! Here he is!"

I took one last drink and went onto stage. Oddly enough, I was quite calm when I walked onto the stage. I started conjuring up images of famous rock bands and their fans. You know what I am talking about...screaming people chanting your name in unicent...Well let me tell you it was nothing like that. Luckily the bright lights blinded me and I didn't see the glaring looks from the crowd.

I decided to go with it, so I just started singing.

"No, woman, no cry;
No, woman, no cry;
No, woman, no cry;
No, woman, no cry"

Apparently the band was not able to download the original lyrics to Bob's song so there were words scattered throughout the song in Portuguese or just completely out of context in English.

For example, Actual lyrics are:

As they would mingle with the good people we meet.
Good friends we have, oh, good friends weve lost

Instead the karaoke lyrics read:

As they would giggle with the good people we meet.
Good friends we have, oh, good friends have cost.

I sang them out anyway. The great thing about karaoke is that if you sing bad enough nobody has any idea whether you are saying the correct lyrics anyway.

For full lyrics to Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry"
(http://www.lyricsfreak.com/b/bob+marley/no+woman+no+cry_20021714.html)

Random Pics

Picture 1: Protestors outside my flat. I have no idea what they were protesting.

Picture 2: Jose doing....well....who knows!?!

Picture 3: Jose, Me, Kevin, and Caldron.

PASSA BOLA

Recently the Foundation launched a new initiative called Passa Bola. It’s a very entrepreneurial endeavor where LMF will entice different vendors to brand their products with the passa bola symbol (a black and white soccer ball). A portion of the proceeds for that product will go to LMF to fund our projects. Fantastic isn’t it!?!

So next time you see a product with a Passa Bola symbol on it…buy it!

MARIA MUTOLA

On Tuesday I got to finally meet the infamous Maria Mutola. She visited the Foundation to review the financial statements and get a general update on the progress of all the projects.

She is very unassuming. She greeted each and every one of us with a warm smile and a firm handshake. Her elegant clothes concealed her well defined muscles beneath. She spoke in perfect English, due to the fact that she has lived many years in America and South Africa. In fact, there is a myth that many Mozambicans perpetuate that she cannot speak Portuguese fluently. Unfortunately I cannot confirm or refute the claim, but I can understand where it comes from since she speaks English so well, and in all the time she was in the office I did not hear her revert to Portuguese which was a pleasant change for me since I am still learning the language.

There were subtle characteristics about Maria that I found endearing. For example, when she entered the board room and was ushered to the large chair setup at the head of the table, she commented “I can sit anywhere.”

When the Directors were going over the results of the Foundation with Maria Mutola she spoke up and asked intelligent questions about the Projects. She had done her research and read the literature on the Projects which was sent to her in advance of the meeting.

I am told that Maria Mutola will be visiting the Foundation more often from now on, given the fact that she has retired from professional running (after Beijing Olympics) so I am looking forward to hopefully getting a picture with her before I leave.

Status Update: Operation Black Toe

On Saturday afternoon I decided to test out my toe. I had been walking pretty gingerly with it up until then. So like true Matthew fashion, I decided to heck with the “easing back into things,” I’m going for a run!

And my little jog turned into a marathon event. I ran down the beach road (where my friend was mugged) to the fish market and then back up Julius Nyarere through downtown Maputo, down the hill (you’re not supposed to run on), and to Baixa (downtown). I was running about 1:20 so at 10km/h that’s about 13 kilometers (7.5 miles for you Americans). But that wasn’t enough to test out my toe. So I met some friends across from VIP Hotel in Baixa (downtown) on Av. 25 de Septembro (you guessed it, the street is called September 25th) and played some ultimate Frisbee.

I had never played ultimate Frisbee before so it was all new to me. Rules are pretty simple.

1) Require field 100 meters x 37 meters

2) 2 teams – we played with 5 a side but I’m not sure official guidelines. As far as I’m concerned, the more the better.

3) One team serves to the other team by launching the Frisbee as far as they can down the field.

4) Team member catches Frisbee. Can not move both feet, can only pivot on one foot kind of like basketball.

5) Team member with Frisbee throws Frisbee within 10 seconds to another team member who must immediately stop running.

6) Repeat steps 4 and 5 until a team member catches the Frisbee in the end zone.

After an hour and a half of Frisbee I thought to myself, “well maybe the toe needs some stretching while I cool down” so I walked home which took another 45 minutes.
So all in all it was a 3 hour workout to make sure my toe was ‘A okay.’

So you can all rest assured that my toe is on its way to complete recovery. No bleeding in a few days and the nail has bonded to the skin beneath. Half my nail is black and half is still alive and kicking so I’ve got a funky looking toe.

Enjoy the picture ;)

Diplomacy 101

Let me tell you a little story about a dude I know named Will.

So as predictable as the sun rising in the morning, he was stopped walking home on Friday night from his friend Jose’s house. He knew it was coming too. There were 2 officers at the corner of Mao Tse Tung and Vladimir Lenine which is exactly 1 block from his flat. He rounded the corner and he was greeted with, “Boa noit!” and then the inevitable, “Onde esta um passport?” (Where is your passport?)

He rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet to provide him with a copy of his passport.

Officer, “But this is a copy. Why don’t you have the original?”

Will, “You know why I don’t carry the original. Because someone may steal it.”

Officer, “But this copy is falling apart. Why?”

Will, “Because this is the 9th time I’ve been stopped by you and your Officer buddies.” [He knows he shouldn’t get smart with Officers but most of it gets lost in translation with them anyway so they don’t get offended. Furthermore, they know it’s the truth]

Officer, “You should know better by now to carry your original passport.”

Will, “My original passport is at home. If you want to see it you can come to my home.”

Will can pretty much script out this entire conversation by memory since he has been through it so many times.

He asks, “But we need to see original.”

To which Will responds, “If you want to see the original, we can go to mi casa (my home) and you can see the original.”

Officer, “No. We go to the esquadra (station).”

Will, “Ta bon. Vamos. (Okay, let’s go)” They start walking up Mao Tse Tung towards the Esquadra across from Will's house. As they approach the Esquadra the Officer starts negotiating.

Officer, “You don’t really want to go to the station. Just give us a refresca (drink).” By now Will is too tired to argue with him.

Will, “Okay, wait right here (they are infront of his flat now) and I will grab us a drink.” He goes up to his flat and grab 4 drinks. One for him, one for his Guard, and one for each of the Officers. They all enjoy drinks under the moon light. Cheers ;)

By the way, the “guard” is referring to the security guard that is at the entrance of Will's building. Pretty much every store, house, office, apartment building has a security guard around the clock that stands guard (and occasionally sleeps).

Disclaimer: The above tail is a fictitious account of what a volunteer in Maputo, Mozambique may encounter.

Progress at Work

A lot of you that I have spoken to, while in Mozambique, have questioned whether I am actually doing any work. That question always seems to follow me around wherever I go and whatever I do. Well let me set the record straight. YES I WORK. In fact, I work every day! I have not missed a day yet, well except for one Friday when I travelled to Swaziland. Fridays are half days anyway and I made the time up during the following week by staying late. In fact, the past two weeks I have had to walk to and from work. Honestly, I prefer it to driving. The walk is about 50 minutes there and an hour back. It takes longer to back partly because it is uphill most of the way. Although the walk to work is sometimes a little sweaty and uncomfortable, I think I still prefer it to sitting in an air conditioned car on the 401 bumper to bumper. I hate traffic! I have come to accept it as a part of life in Toronto, but I really hate it. I think it is unproductive, inefficient, wasteful (okay so I like reinforcing my point with redundant words), and just all around sucks. But I digress.

At work I have managed to organize the voluminous amount of information that the Foundation (where I am volunteering in case you haven’t kept up to date with my blog) calls its ‘financial records’ into a comprehensive set of reports which explain the year to date. I can tell the Directors everything they need to know about their donor funds. Where they have been spent, when, on which projects, paid to whom, etc etc. I can even tell them whose salary payments are in arrears and how much funds they are going to need to get through the rest of the year.

Over the next two weeks the focus of my work will be refining the financial reports that the Directors need to provide their donors and then two, training the finance personnel. I need to explain to the accounting staff everything that I Have been doing over the past two months so that they can sustain the processes I have put in place. Hopefully, when I visit them next year (anyone want to sponsor me…huh….anyone?) they will marvel me with what they have done with my work. That’s the hope anyway.

So, if you know any other company / foundation / individual / small-business that could use some financial assistance give me a call.

Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to solicit business for any persons under contract or employment.

More Pics from Swaziland

I am enamored with the big lazy cats and hungry elephants.

Bound to Happen

I woke up early Sunday morning uncomfortably cold. I rolled over and read the time on my mobile, 8am. I couldn’t think of any good reasons not to get out of bed. A quick brush of my teeth and a half litre of water and I was off and running to play futbol (soccer).

Not too far from where I live some guys get together and play pick-up futbol every Sunday morning. I haven’t gone for a few weeks since I was out of town as all you regular readers should know. I shouldn’t have jogged there because, as usual, the guys were more concerned with arguing who was going to play first than actually playing. “Primeiro! Primeiro!” (first) they shouted back and forth at each other.
The game finally began with 5 men per side playing for 10 minutes, winner stays on. We play with smaller futbol than outdoor (grass) plays with and it is also heavier to keep it from sailing over the goal every time someone boots it.

After my second game I wasn’t quite ready to sit down so I leaped for a horizontal bar behind one of the goal’s and started doing some chin-ups. I’m still not quite sure how, but, I kicked out with my left foot at one point to gather my balance as I hung from the bar and when I landed I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.
I felt for my toe inside my shoes, similar to how you do when you are trying on shoes, and to my surprise I could feel a very sharp object protruding through my black puma shoe.

I took off my shoe and then my sock and voila! My toenail was stubbed. About half of it was bent straight into the air, blood streaming where the nail used to be. Yummy.
I limped away from the court and got several suggestions on how to care for my toe. In typical fashion the guys started to argue about what the best course of action was.

For some reason, before I thought about caring for my toe my stomach got the best of me and I decided to hobble over to the store to get some food and some lemon to help with cleaning my wound.

I jumped in a taxi and came home, and once again, before caring for my toe the first thing I thought about was taking a few pictures so that I can share them with you on my blog. So please enjoy. And dad, look away now before your stomach starts to turn.
I then proceeded to perform surgery on my toe. First, clean the wound with cold water, rubbing alcohol and a little limao (lemon) to keep things smelling fresh. Second, “nurse! Pass the anesthetic.” Third, bite your tongue to avoid screaming out loud “Owwwww!” Third, take the nail clipper and proceed to bend my toe nail back down to its rightful position.

I’ll let you know if I wake up in the middle of the night with my nail hanging on for dear life.

Book 6 – RUNAWAY by Alice Munro

This is the first fictional book I have read since in Mozambique and I think I chose well. Alice Munro has been multiple awards, and she grew up in good old Ontario, Canada.

Her book is collection of 8 short stories unlike any other book I have read before. Although each short story isn`t a direct continuation of the previous, they often share a character later on in their life.

There is one lesson I would like to share with you from one of the short stories. There is a woman named Robin. She lives in a small town. One day she visits the big city (Toronto) and becomes stranded with no money or way to get back home. She meets a man named Danilo who helps her, feeding her, and giving her enough money to get back home. As he says goodbye to her they embrace in a passionate kiss. She along with her heart melts in his arms. He bids her farewell and tells her not to call or write, but, if she feels the same way he does, return next summer at the same time and he will be there ready to receive her.

She thinks of nothing else but him for an entire year. The day approaches and she can hardly breathe she is so anxious. She prepares her hair just the way he likes it, and wears the same dress he saw her in last hoping to rekindle the same emotions.
She approaches his store where he works. “He was there, in the work space beyond the counter, busy under a single bulb. He was bent forward, seen in profile, engrossed in the work he was doing on a clock…An expression on his face of concentration, keenness, perfect appreciation of whatever he was doing…She called to him. Danilo…He had not heard…Then he did look up, but not at her—he appeared to be searching for something he needed at the moment. But in raising his eyes he caught sight of her. He carefully moved something out of his way, pushed back from the worktable, stood up, came reluctantly towards her. He shook he is head at her slightly. Her hand was ready to push the door open, but she did not do it. She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He shook his head again. He was perturbed. He stood still. He looked away from her…Now he came towards her again, as if he had made up his mind what to do. Not looking at her anymore, but acting with determination and—so it seemed to her—revulsion, he put a hand against the wooden door, the shop door which stood open, and pushed it shut in her face.”

She left the store weeping and managed to drag herself back to her small town and into her room to crawl up in a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Some forty years later, she is working as a nurse in a hospital which is overcrowded. Three cots are lined up against the wall. One of them has a body, worn down, legs almost disappearing under the covers. The card attached to the foot of his bed reads Danilo.

She later finds out that Danilo had a twin brother who had “…been deaf-mute since birth…” The man in the store that ignored her was not Danilo, it was his twin brother Alexander.

The moral of this story is don’t make assumptions, ask questions, inquire, second guess, double check, get a second opinion, check your sources, ask your parents, shoot…ask me even, …. Audit baby!!!!

[Disclaimer: This is not intended to be an accurate reproduction of any book written by Alice Munro]

(http://www.amazon.co.uk/Runaway-Alice-Munro/dp/0099472252)

Settled In

I’m pretty sure there is a theory about the pattern of exhibited human behaviours when a person is taken out of their home environment and shipped halfway across the world to a foreign land as I have been. Well, I wasn’t “taken”, in fact I enthusiastically volunteered to go on this journey. The point I am trying to make is that I think I have not settled into my new home. Let me describe some of my observations.

In my first four weeks I was stopped by police 8 times. And might I add never by myself, I was always walking or driving with someone or some people. In the past three weeks I have only been stopped once. People say that police can smell foreigners and are diligent in doing their job enforcing the law that requires ALL persons in Mozambique to carry valid identification. Okay, so not conclusive evidence by itself but let me bolster it some more.

My stomach is in A1 condition and has been for the past few weeks. Whoa!!! I know, I know, not the type of information all of you reading care to know, but hey, this blog is for my writing pleasure too.

I don’t look sun deprived as most Canadians and Brits do when they arrive in Mozambique. In fact, I have a healthy tanned complexion. And no I have not been sun bathing, in fact, I make every effort to stay out of the sun and keep protected with habitual sun block application every morning and a pair of sun glasses handy every time the sun wants to make an appearance.

My body has stabilized. I eat regularly, which for me is at least three balanced meals per day, with a sprinkling of snacks and beverages to keep my blood sugar regular and my mouth moist.

When I walk the street I am not bombarded with shouts of “Boss! Boss! Chef! Chef!” and requests to purchase anything and everything, including peanuts, airtime, oranges, and paintings. In fact, when I go out with Kevin he is the perfect distraction. His aura screams “I am American” and every street merchant flocks to him to sell him something. They are drawn to him like white on rice. He doesn’t find it as amusing as I do.

And if the above reasons haven’t convinced you, here is the bread winner—I am comfortable staying in my own flat!!! I know, I know, many of you are probably worrying that I may be sick. I can hear you saying to yourself, “It’s not possible! Matt never stays home.” But I stand by my words and proclaim I CAN stay home. In fact, just last night I stayed in and watched a DVD.

Trip to Swazziland – Day 3

After visiting the Hlane Royal National Park we made our way to Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary. (http://www.biggameparks.org/3parks_mlilwane.html) “Mlilwane, Swaziland’s pioneer conservation area, is a beautiful, secluded sanctuary situated in Swaziland’s “Valley of Heaven”, the Ezulwini Valley, in between Mbabane and Manzini.”
There we stayed in hostels in Sondzela. That’s right, my first hostel. And quite honestly it was much nicer than I expected. There really isn’t a term in the English language to accurately describe the accommodation. The small houses had one room, one sink, 2 beds and some small furniture. They kept cool during the day and remained comfortable during the cool nights. They locked and had windows so mosquitoes were a non-issue, although I took no chances and slept with a mosquite net all the same. The showers were shared facilities cleaned regularly by the staff. The main cabin had pool, badminton, a tv, and a kitchen. Meals were enjoyed outdoors in a picnic area and there was even an inground pool to cool you off on those really hot days (I estimate it was above 40 degrees Celsius).

The Milwane Wildlife Sanctuary has 1000s of acres of protected space (4560 hectares to be exact) where animals roam freely. The animals have the ‘right of way’ and don’t have many predators to worry about. There are no lions in this park, although there are crocodiles and there is no sure way of keeping leopards out since they are talented leapers (they can jump fences if a tree grows too closely). So this all allows for an amazing experience where humans and animals live alongside eachother in relative harmony.

On Sunday afternoon we went for a horse ride exploring the deeper parts of the park. I’ll admit, I was a little apprehensive at first – what with the limited training and horses that weren’t particularly responsive to the trainers commands – but I faced my fears and pressed on.

I hopped aboard “African Ace” and she seemed quite comfortable with my 70 kilos on her. I told the trainers I had not ridden before – except for once in Cuba on some malnutritioned horses – so they gave me a horse that wasn’t too unruly. That’s right, not “too” unruly. Very reassuring words (sarcasm).

With a gentle kick into her side we were off. Whoa!!!! After leaving the confines of the main camp we were out in the countryside and it was absolutely gorgeous. Zebras were grazing alongside warthogs (ugly little creatures) and gazelle of course. One girl’s horse was completely lathergic and kept holding up our progress. African Ace decided it was time for a snack and bent over to eat, my hands were clinging to the harness and I nearly flew over the top of her. I was reassured by my mates that this was normal and not to worry.

After nearly an hour and a half atop African Ace my rear end was ready to call it quits. Then African Ace decided to get a little “unruly” kicking at the horse behind me. I thought she was trying to buck and throw me off her. I tried to keep my squeals inaudible and remain calm. The guide behind me apologized because his horse got too close to African Ace and she gets very weary when that happens because she thinks “Colt” is going to go ahead of her. He then laughed at me uncontrollably.

Just as we re-entered the confines of the main camp we saw a monument erected to remind all visitors of the area’s troubled past. There were over 20,000 snares captured from the lands when poaching was outlawed. A constant reminder to the fragile nature of the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary.

Trip to Swazziland – Day 2

We woke up, had a filling breakfast, and set off to Hlane Royal National Park to go on a game reserve trek. (http://www.biggameparks.org/3parks_hlane.html) “In the vast bushveld expanse of eastern Swaziland where the hot, still sun of Africa beats on the dry but life-giving soils as it has for thousands of years, and the rumbling roars of the lions are heard in the cool dusky evenings, lies Swaziland’s largest protected area, Hlane Royal National Park, home to the largest herds of game in the Kingdom.

Hlane, named by King Sobhuza II, with its adjacent dispersal areas covers 30 000 hectares of Swazi bushveld, dominated by ancient hardwood vegetation. Hlane is home to lion, elephant and white rhino, with an abundant and diverse bird life, including the highest density of nesting white backed vultures in Africa.

A network of self-drive game-viewing roads criss-cross the park’s flat terrain, weaving between the 1000 year old hardwood vegetation and shallow pans which attract great herds of animals during the dry winter months. Guided walking safaris, mountain biking and game drives in Hlane's open Land Rover's are also available.Head for the bush and experience the sights and sounds of Hlane against the roar of Hlane’s magnificent lions – the symbol of royalty and the pride of Swaziland.”
Usually you have to book well in advance, but luck was on our side. We set out at a little after 11am with Johannis. He said, “I have been working here for 6 years and no one has died.” Not the most confidence inspiring words but I trusted him nonetheless.

The Land Rovers they use are indestructible. Well, partly because they don’t have any of the ‘fix-ins’ typical civilian cars are cluttered with such as radios, air conditioning, windshields, doors with handles, etc. Instead they are bare bones go anywhere do anything type trucks. The sides of the truck have a mesh to protect its occupants from the passing brush. The front of the truck is completely open so any animal that is bold enough to jump on the hood, there is nothing stopping it from ….
All the animals at Hlane Royal National ParkPark are separated with fences to keep some semblance of structure. The antelope and impalas gaze pretty much everywhere freely; the rhinos are kept near to the main camp so that visitors can gaze at them as they eat their lunch; and the lions are kept in a certain area with a few fences between them and civil society just in case one of them get really hungry.

The park was setup by The Reilly’s. (http://www.biggameparks.org/conserv_thereillys.html) “Billie Wallis, formerly Reilly, came to Swaziland in 1920 at the age of fifteen and married Mickey Reilly in 1925… The Reillys witnessed the disappearance of Swaziland’s game and this had a profound impact on young Ted Reilly. Between the rinderpest (or cattle plague) in 1896, excessive hunting, the ‘wildebeest plague’ in the 1930’s, poison traps, herbicides and insecticides, and unenforced game laws, the slaughter and depletion of Swaziland’s game and flora resulted to remnant populations in some areas and totally disappeared from others by the 1960’s… The only area available for a sanctuary was the Reilly’s own 460 ha farm which was then a highly productive mixed farming operation. Where the Rest Camp is now was a productive mealie land and tin mining added substantially to revenues.
Having experiencing the spiritual values of wildlife, and seeing its escalating destruction country-wide, Ted Reilly decided to give up farming and turn over Mlilwane to provide a sanctuary for at least some of the Kingdom’s wild animals using limited personal resources and absolute dedication… Mlilwane has grown to 10 times it original size through the support of the Monarchy, international support and true individual dedication… “

The first animals we saw were impala and gazelle. Do you know the difference? Both male and female gazelles have horns / antlers where as only the male impala have horns. They were by the watering hole filling up their bladders alongside the vultures which were drying off after taking their morning baths. Then some exciting termite mounds (sarcasm), kadulu and lots of birds.

“What is it?” I asked as Johannis ducked down and stopped talking as he searched the landscape. “There an elephant.” It was an absolute beauty. Johannis told us the elephant was about 30 years old and had either had a shoving match with another elephant or escaped a poachers greedy hands and now only had one tusk protruding its’ mouth. We saw it by another watering hole which was like a mini oasis of lush vegetation. He filled his tanks and continued on filling his belly with a bit of everything he could get his trunk on. Did you know that elephant dung was some very versatile stuff? It can be used as fuel for a fire and burned, it repels mosquitoes, it helps ease the pain of pregnancy when boiled and ingested with water by expecting (human) mothers, and it is great for fertilizing land.

We continued on and saw another elephant, and some more gazelle of course. And then…I got a feeling…kind of like a sixth sense. At the back of the park near the outer fence, laying in the shade under some trees keeping their bodies cool were 4 lions – three lionesses and one lion. They truly are the biggest laziest cats you will ever find. Johannis stayed about 20 meters back for a few minutes so that they got used to our presence. Then he drove closer, so close in fact that the lionesses had to scurry out of the way. At one point, we got so close that I could hear their chests panting below us beside the truck. I whispered to Johannis, “Is this safe?” to which he replied “Of course! (like I had asked a brainless question) They are big lazy cats and they won’t jump on us during the day.”

Johannis explained that during the day the lions were quite placid, however, he never dare take a ride out at night when they were active. In fact, no vehicles are aloud out at night as a result of the outlawing of poaching. Any vehicles seen at night in Hlane Royal National Park are assumed to be poachers and can be shot at.
We concluded the excursion by riding out near the main watering hole next to rest camp and approached some white rhinos on foot. What a thrill.

Trip to Swazziland – Day 1

On the afternoon of Friday September 5th we embarked for The Kingdom of Swazziland. I rented a car, a Kia Picanto EX, from my friendly local car rental company which will remain anonymous since they aren’t paying me royalties to advertise their great services. I try not to give too much free advertisement these days – no big logos on my shirts, no hazardous plastic bags baring vendors names.

The rental car company’s website indicated the car was actually an upgraded vehicle. In other words, it was not the entry level. It was fitted with luxurious amenities such as air conditioning, CD player, and intermittent wiper blades. I thought those were all fixtures on new cars these days but apparently not. The website also indicated the car could hold 5 persons and luggage.

Well let me tell you, everyone had their reservations at first, but after a journey to and from Swazziland I can tell you that the Kia Picanto is all a car most people will ever need. We were able to pile in 5 people with 1 bag pack each (hiker’s bag) along with snacks, water, and other goodies. It was a tight fit, but it all got in there. The a/c blew cold air and the CD player lit up the air waves. Back home I drive a truck (it was a hand me down so please don’t comment on my environmental footprint) and this Kia takes HALF the gas of my truck to go the same distance, the car averaged just over 6L per 100 kms. I must offer you some words of wisdom regarding this great little car, if you really need the a/c on at all times you are going to struggle getting up hills with a full load. The car will get up the hill, it just might take a few extra gear changes to get up there. But that’s a mute point.

So enough about the car…we set out on Av. 24 de Julho around 3:45pm and made it to the Swazzi border in good time. After a brief check with immigration we were on our way again. I wish getting into America was so easy. I don’t think they asked us more than two questions. “How long are you staying?” and “What is the purpose of your trip?”

I focused on the driving while my co-pilots were supposed to focus on the navigating. After 2.5 hours into a trip that should take 2 hours they admitted, “I think we are lost.” Grrrrrr. To make matters worst it was now very dark since there were minimal street lights and we were in the middle of a wind storm. Whoa! But never underestimate the kindness of the Swazzi people. I pulled the car over – nearly covering a man standing at the side of the road with dust – and asked a local to direct us. Within no time we were back on our way. Our original plan was to stay at Hlane Royal National Park (more on this park in ‘Day 2’ blog). They close at 6pm so we didn’t make it. Plan B: Find a decent bed to sleep in.

(http://www.kia.co.za/cars/picantoNew/picanto_overview.asp)

Swaziland

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swaziland ) “The Kingdom of Swaziland is a country located in Southern Africa, centred at approximately 26o49'S, 31o38'E. It is relatively small in area, similar in size to Kuwait. Swaziland is a landlocked country, bordered by South Africa on three sides except to the east, where it borders Mozambique. The country, inhabited primarily by Bantu-speaking Swazi people, is named after the 19th century king Mswati II, from whom the people also take their name.

The HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in Swaziland is the highest in the world at 38.8%, and is much higher than that of sub-Saharan Africa overall (7.5%) and globally (1.1%). Life expectancy at birth in Swaziland is little above 30 years.”

I must admit it was refreshing to go to Swaziland where English is still an official language. It just makes travelling a little bit easier. The people are lovely and very helpful. On more than one occasion we had to ask for directions while driving around town and we were personally escorted to our destination. Almost unheard of in Toronto where you are as likely to find someone who thinks they know what they are talking about as you are to find someone who intentionally sends you in the wrong direction for their amusement.

Progress at Work

So the end is nearing and I am under pressure to finalize my work and start transitioning to my protégée. I have produced many reports which help the Directors of the Foundation understand what has happened with the Foundation over the past year from a financial perspective. For confidentiality purposes I can’t give too many details on donor funds, however, suffice to say it is always a challenge to appease all donors.

Murilo, a Brazilian, recently joined the Foundation and will be heading to the northern parts of Mozambique to manage Desporto Da Vida which is a project where LMF sponsors different sports and has a centre setup kind of like a drop-in community centre where information will be disseminated about HIV / AIDS, contraceptives and nutrition.

In particular, infant nutrition is a huge problem in Mozambique where mothers sometimes prematurely wean their babies off of breast milk completely. I am no expert on best practices but from everything I have read a child needs up to 2 years of milk from his or her mother. A staple of Mozambican diets is shima (flour and water) which is very filling but not particularly nutritious. It is similar to porridge in texture and rice in flavor.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breastfeeding#Early_breastfeeding).

The myths about HIV / AIDS and effective contraceptive methods are appalling. A sexual health worker told me that many Mozambican men carry condoms at all times however they don’t use them correctly. They literally carry them in their pockets without opening the packaging thinking simply carrying it will be an effective contraceptive.

Murilo will be working in northern Mozambique over the next year and hopefully he makes some headway with the goals of LMF. Good luck my friend!

[Disclaimer: The statements here are not representative of all Mozambicans.]

Tofo – Day 2

On Sunday we relaxed by the beach enjoying the soft white sand and warm currents of the ocean. And then….psssssssssssst!!! Out in the water about 100 meters from shore we spotted the signature of the hump back – a water and mist trail – which was ejected out its blow hole. This continued for a few minutes and then we glimpsed a slice of Heaven when a whale surfaced for a brief moment. Amazing. I can’t explain it any other way.

The rest of the day was spent in true Sunday fashion, with no hard work, but lots of food and good company. I played game of soccer called “le-le” with some locals. Essentially it is keep away with a huge circle of people trying to keep the futbol away from the one person who is in the middle. I practiced my capoeira on the beach with some kids who found it terribly amusing every time I landed on my rear end. That happens a lot in capoeira – at least for me – because there are a lot of hand stands and flips and holds which require lots and lots of practice to master. I went for a short run at dusk along the beach but it was cut short. The tide comes in the afternoon right through the night. Over 100 meters of beach disappear as the sea pounds the sand walls lining the edge of Tofo. It’s a very violent process. Some of the more established bars like Dino’s have walls to fortify their part of the beach, but really its only slowing down the eventual erosion. What the ocean gives it shall also taketh away.

The people in Tofo were all wonderful. At night the darkness takes over and the few light posts there are do not do an adequate job of lighting up the beach or the trails from our cabin to town. But, the good news is that everyone says its 100% safe. We didn’t take any chances though and always travelled in packs with at least two of us together at anytime.

I did have one moment when I thought I might have to scream out for help. I was walking up the hill back to our cabin to grab my camera – which I had forgotten – and I was alerted when I looked up and a few steps ahead of me stood a huge predator ready to pounce on me protected by the cloak of the night. A loud sheepish yelp started to develop in the deep trenches of my belly when I stopped myself. It was just a dog. He jumped at me and started licking me. Gross.

The bus back to Maputo was an even earlier departure than the bus to Tofo. It departed at 4am. This time we managed to get a little bit of shut eye before packing up our things in a grand hurry and catching the bus. In a record 6:30 later we were back in Maputo safe and sound. Ahhh….good to be home.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mozambique

Tofo – Day 1

Saturday morning we attempted the same journey again. We decided the only way to guarantee we would wake up for the bus which departs at 5:30am is to stay awake all night, so we did. Guess where the first stop was for the bus? That’s right…the bus station. The bus left Fatima’s at 5:30 am but it wasn’t quite full. So the combrador (bus conductor) solicited more riders to fill our bus and make the 9 hour journey thoroughly uncomfortable.

We finally departed the bus station at 7am after picking up a lady with chickens – I kid you not – and a man carrying horse meat. The driver seemed to drive at speeds near Mach 1. I am no slouch in the car myself, but it was a little unnerving when we could feel the bus going so fast that the rear wheels were not consistently in contact with the road. Not that the road was particularly well paved or existent for that matter. But nonetheless there was road and the bus didn’t seem to stay on it.

It is amazing the skills you pick up when you travel. During the 9 hour journey I became an expert at sleeping while sitting up. I placed my bag on my lap and slouched over and it was as if I was enjoying a restful night in a 5-star hotel….

2:30pm…alas…Tofo!!! We were dropped off at Fatima’s in Tofo and it was a short 10 minute walk to Alcatraz…I mean Albatroze. Our cabin had 4 beds, a mini kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room with a couple couches. All the essentials. It was on a slope overlooking the Indian Ocean. The sound of the ocean was never beyond earshot. The sound at night was mystifying. It was as if the ocean was right outside my bedroom door. I wish I could give the sound justice through my words…

Saturday we night we headed over to Dino’s. It’s a local place that was owned by a local Mozambican. It is a very well established place that was like a little tourist haven – Western in its style – a hybrid of college pub and beach bar. Unfortunately Dino was not very happy with his establishment and committed suicide a few months ago. His mural stood above the bar as a reminder to his good spirited nature…his legacy.

Tofo – Attempt #1

This past weekend Jose, Kevin, Nick and I went to Tofo. It is in the province of Innanbane about 7 hours away from Maputo. We didn’t get off to a great start. I went over to Fatima’s – a backpacker’s hostel – on Thursday night to register for the bus that leaves Friday morning, 5:30am in fact. The attendant at Fatima’s insisted that I pay on Friday when I actually boarded the bus. Something gave me the feeling that wasn’t the wisest choice.

“Wake up!” I was barked at Friday morning. “It’s 8:30…get up!” Yep, you guessed it. We missed the bus. So the adventure begins. We decided to initiate Plan B. We took a taxi to the local bus station about 20 minutes away. We heard there was a bus leaving at 10am. After exiting the taxi cab a crowd of local merchants and bus drivers quickly grew around us until an all out frenzy erupted. The three of us (Kevin, Jose, myself) were being summoned from every angle to buy compras (food), mcel (cell phone) credit, frescas (soft drinks), chappa (bus)…and the list goes on and on. I tried to diffuse the situation but the crowd was drawn to my Portuguese speaking friend Jose. The shouts and beckons escalated until…..”Documents please!” was whispered in my ear from a police officer that entered the crowd from Stage Left. Here we go again I thought….8th encounter with the police in 6 weeks.

I willingly obliged and provided my notarized copy of my passport. “Onde esta a original?” (Where is the original passport? The police officer responded) I tend not to carry around my original passport because of fear of it being lost or stolen. “This is an official notarized copy of the original passport” I replied. After exchanging a few more words we were gladly escorted out of the frenzy at the bus station and we walked to the police station where we were questioned by the head police chief. It wasn’t so bad. The original police officer who asked me for my documents invited me to come back anytime so that we could go out and get some frescas (soft drinks). The police chief was very nice to us and eventually released us and advised us it would be wise to carry our original passports at all times. Point taken – I am carrying my original passport from now on.

http://www.tofotravel.com/About%20Tofo.htm

Moving Day

Last week out of my spacious 3 bedroom 2.5 bathroom 2 flatmate flat into my new home. It is a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom pad that I share with Kevin. The space is better laid out with a common living area decked out with 2 couches and 1 armchair. It is on the other side of town but still not too far from good eateries or shops. I am now in my 3rd temporary living space since arriving in Maputo 6 weeks ago (Hoyo-hoyo hotel, 3 bedroom flat, and now 2 bedroom flat).

It wasn’t a very difficult process. I travelled to Maputo with a total of 16 kgs of gear (about 37 pounds). The only additional items to move were my groceries I had accumulated and some DVDs I purchased.

So after never living with anyone except family for my first XX years, I have now lived with 3 different people. Mozambique is full of learning experiences. Living with people teaches you a lot about your own daily habits which you assume to be routine, or even ‘normal’, but others may find them irregular, or even ‘abnormal’. Do YOU do anything abnormal…?

Sharing Skills

My employer and VSO (voluntary service overseas) partnered up and sent me to Mozambique. “Sharing skills, changing lives” is the most recognizable motto of VSO. They help developing countries by sending human capital there. In other words, their primary investment is in people, not goods to donate. So as a part of my 3 month excursion I am expected to not only revamp the financial reporting of the Lurdes Mutola Foundation, but also to train the locals so that they can gain those invaluable skills to continue doing the tasks and projects I have started. Since 7 weeks have past, I now realize that the end is in sight and I have to start training my colleagues. It is not a role I am unfamiliar with, at work, a significant part of my time is dedicated towards supervising my staff and guiding them when they need assistance. It is a role I take great pleasure in. I just hope that I am able effectively explain not only the specific processes which need to be maintained, but also teach some of the key concepts and risks I have observed during my stay here. For example, the need to maintain accountability for donor funds and uphold the Foundation’s mandate.

If anyone else is interested in sharing their skills with people who would greatly appreciate your help, check out the VSO website:

http://www.vsocan.org/default.aspx

Picture: Some of my fellow VSO volunteers during pre-departure training in Ottawa. PFC baby!!!

Commerce Mozambique 101

I’m not sure if it is entirely legal or not but street vendors rule the retail environment in Mozambique. Everyone is selling something. My new flat does not have as many hotels for foreigners so there I’m not confronted by the same barrage of merchants trying to sell me something, I must say, a welcome change. I want to highlight some of the more interesting items I have been offered for purchase.

The top 10 things I have been offered for sale:

10. A rotten banana

9. Used slippers

8. Raw squid

7. A Mosquitoe killing tennis racquet

6. Water coconut

5. German version of “Wanted” starring Angelina Jolie

4. Darkglasses (sunglasses) when it was raining and I already had a pair on my head.

3. 1976 Mercedes-Benz missing 1 door and uncapable of speeds over 40 km/h (25 mph)
without endangering the public.

2. Bottled water. No really, tap water that was put into a bottle and chilled.

1. A razor sharp bow and arrow to hunt Lions!!!

Picture 1: Man approaches bus on the way to Tofo selling a lion killing bow and arrow.

Book #4 – The Four Agreements

Last week I completed my fourth book, The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. The four agreements are:

I Be Impeccable with Your Word
II Don’t Take Anything Personally
III Don’t Make Assumptions
IV Always Do Your Best

So I’m sure you are asking yourself what this all means? “Your whole mind is a fog which the Toltecs called a mitote. Your mind is a dream where a thousand people talk at the same time, and nobody understands each other It is the personality’s notion of I am. Everything you believe about yourself and the world, all the concepts and programming you have in your mind, are all the mitote. We cannot see who we truly are; we cannot see that we are not free.” (Ruiz p.16)

Ruiz talks about how we have all accepted agreements with the world. The agreements are the way we understand things to be. The way we interact with other humans, gossip about them, fear what they will think of us, seek out our parents acceptance and pride, everything we think we are. If nothing else, the book forces you to consciously think about WHY you do what you do. It then pushes forward an alternate way of perceiving the world and projecting yourself at the world.

1st Agreement: Be Impeccable with Your Word

“Regardless of what language you speak, your intent manifests through the word.” (Ruiz p.26) Can you formulate any meaningful bonds with someone whose words you don’t trust, whose words are not sincere?

Your words have power. That’s right YOUR words (you reading this). The word is a force which causes events in your life. There are countless motivational speakers and self-help books which talk about the power of your words and your energy. Believe in what you say and others will too. There are those that have used their words to brainwash the minds of millions for evil and for good. Use your words wisely.

2nd Agreement: Don’t Take Anything Personally

“Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves.” (Ruiz p.48) If you live your life like this it is truly liberating. Not putting too much stock in what other people do or say would free you of all those fears you have. What will people say? What will people do?

3rd Agreement: Don’t Make Assumptions

An old saying springs to mind K-I-S-S. Keep it simple silly. “Because we are afraid to ask for clarification, we make assumptions, and believe we are right about the assumptions; then we defend our assumptions and try to make someone else wrong. It is always better to ask questions than to make an assumption, because assumptions set us up for suffering.” (Ruiz p.64)

“If others tell us something, we make assumptions, and if they don’t tell us something we make assumptions to fulfill our need to know and to replace the need to communicate.” (Ruiz p.68) This is where the real danger is, where people choose to rely on their own beliefs and preconceived notions of the world to continue to fill in the gaps in communication. This causes arguments between friends, divorces between spouses, and wars between nations. Let’s talk people!

Recently I have tried to reach out to my loved ones to talk about things that matter. I find we get so caught up in the here and now – the weather, the soccer score, the next day of work – that we lose sight of the important feelings and thoughts that really occupy our minds. Go and “have a coffee” as us Canadians say and really talk with someone you care about. That’s right, you reading this blog, invite someone you care about to the café and talk. The coffee can be substituted for your beverage of choice and the location can be moved to a place you prefer to hang out. But the message is the same….let’s talk people!

4th Agreement: Always Do Your Best

You know, most of these agreements are very intuitive and I can identify with them since they are very similar to lessons I learned as a child: “It’s not about winning, it’s about doing your best.” Your best will vary with the day and your mood and your age, etc etc etc. Just do your best and you will LIVE in the truest sense of the word. “You can live, love, and be happy.” (Ruiz p.78)

http://www.miguelruiz.com/

http://www.amazon.com/Four-Agreements-Practical-Personal-Freedom/dp/1878424319