Rainy bumble

I do like a weekend bumbling around Maputo, either with sun or a dramatic sky. All weather conditions are acceptable.

Today I began with a haircut to tame the fluffiness. I went to the friendly chap near my old apartment who reminds me of my old Portuguese teacher Ilídio. As I sat in the chair I went down memory lane, thinking of our lessons during which we would debate the social issues of the day.

There used to be a very camp and friendly lad working in the café across from my old apartment block. I admired him for living his best life, which is not easy in a place like Mozambique where anyone going against the grain would normally feel compelled to adapt their behaviour accompanied by the internal turmoil that causes. I remember discussing homosexuality with Ilídio who announced his disapproval but confirmed that he ‘wouldn’t go over in the street and say anything’ [to a gay person]. Thank you for exercising such benevolence. The gays are grateful for your restraint.

Under moody skies I strolled to Jardim Tunduru next to the Casa de Ferro (House of Iron), and sat on a bench. ‘O que é vida?’ (what is life?) said a fella who approached me. I said happiness, whereas, underlining the differences in our privilege, he wanted me to say money. We agreed that we all need some money but after a certain amount, it doesn’t create happiness. I gave him some money, he blessed me and continued on.

The rain started and I sheltered under the bandstand. Most wedding parties that use Jardim Tunduru for their photos and celebrations fled the rain. One party remained singing and dancing in the rain amid the trees and it was a glorious reminder of the power of living in the moment. Eventually that party retreated under the bandstand, one woman sporting a blue plastic bag on her head to protect her hair.

I met a friend Dércio at a bar in the old Maputo train station and later another friend Arnaldo for some rissois de camarão and camarão a alho at a café. I had a treacherous rainy walk in flip flops, one of which is broken. Maputo’s pavements are a challenge not to break one’s neck at the best of times, but I made it in one piece.