A city!! A real live city! With things to do, and culture to see, and running water (sometimes)!!! I’d forgotten how much I’d missed this. I mean, Maputo ain’t no New York, it’s not even Cardiff (props to the ‘diff) but yes, it is a city.
That means many things. There are things to see and do on the weekends and in the evenings. There’s an abundance of places to eat as well as a number of museums (of varying degrees of interest), some lovely plazas and a nice waterfront area.
But probably the best thing about it is that there are people. The first night I was in the city, I met up with someone from CouchSurfing, who took me to some of her friends, who took us all to this party. In three hours my ‘friend’ group when from zero to ten. Over the next couple of weeks I’d meet up with a bunch of other people via CouchSurfing who would in turn introduce me to other people! Therefore, in a two week span, I’d consider myself to have a couple of close friends already, as well as a respectable list of number in my phone which I can call any night to see if they want to get a beer. After spending my evenings in Malawi trying to not think about my next meal (lunch tomorrow) or my last meal (lunch today) and hovering in the bar area hoping a backpacker or SOMEONE would show up that I could talk to, this is quite a treat.
It seems that there are two periods each year where there is a mass exodus from the country, either because a NGO worker’s contract is up, or because the school year is done and so teaching is finished. This is one of those periods. Due to this, there have been A LOT of house parties here. I’ve heard tell of how great the nightlife is in Maputo, and I’d have to agree – though not for any of the reasons cited in the Lonely Planet. Luckily, at a leaving party, not everyone is leaving, so I can meet some people. It is a slightly strange introduction to the host though ‘Hi, I’m Damien’ ‘Hi I’m Joe’ ‘Okay, well… see you somewhere in the world I guess’ ‘Ditto’. Other than people’s parties, my favorite spot at the moment is an artist’s cooperative called ‘Nucleo d’Arte’ which turns into a bar with music at night. It’s the best (and only) place on a Sunday night. This past Sunday, they cordoned off a whole block for the bands to play. It was very cool. They also have art, which I visited one weekend. My favorite exhibition (well, it’s just art strewn about the place) is the ‘Guns into Art’ series, which, as you can guess from the name, turns guns… into… art. Muite bon (boom, that’s some Portuguese for you right there WASSUP).
One of the first things I visited was the National Art Gallery, which was surprisingly great. The sculpture work was especially impressive – the most famous Mozambican sculpture is Chimiosso and his pieces utilize both graceful carving and the natural rugged form of the wood to create pieces that you at once think are unfinished, think were perhaps chance pieces of wood that were found nearby (like when you spot a dog in the clouds) and also deeply emotional. The most famous Mozambican artist, who died recently, actually, is Malangtanga. There were a few of his pieces, one of which looked like an African version of a Bosch – Guayasamin painting, that is to say, it was terrifying, a little surreal, full of pain and full of color. All in all, pretty cool.
Couple of other cool things – the train station’s quite nice. It was designed by a Frenchman. The cathedral’s really crazy looking. It’s totally white and almost looks like modern art. It’s especially weird in contrast to the filthy building around.
The restaurants here are pretty decent, with seafood being the specialty. Not all restaurants were created equal, however, and my hat gets tipped to Costa do Sol, which is a Maputo institution. It was here back during the war making it a landmark of sorts. I went there twice this past weekend. The first time was with a colleague who’s a regular. We walk in and he orders a main course that’s not listed on the menu ‘Camarao Nacional’ (national prawns). I ordered the same and proceeded to understand why someone would become a pescatarian and not make the leap to a full-fledged vegetarian. It’s possible that I didn’t even taste the prawns – the sauce was this garlic butter delight that I wish ran from my tap.
Mozambique is quite famous for its dancing. I’ve had two interesting experiences:
1) The first night I was in Maputo, I met up with a CouchSurfer, as I had mentioned, and she (via some other friends) took me to a party that was being hosted by a dance school. Now, when I think of dancing my mind goes to three places – a dark club where you can’t see or hear anything; a ballroom at some daughter’s wedding where the dance floor exists solely to let your niece dance on your feet; and a music festival where ‘dancing’ constitutes moving energetically in a mixture of euphoria and rage. THIS, however, was weird. It was a party in an office building with all the fluorescent lights on. It was definitely a party though – big sound system, lots of drinks, some food. But it seemed that the point of the party was to dance well. Huh. I’d never, really, considered that to be possible. But oh my heavens, were they good. I saw a man move that made me realize that Shakira’s hips did, in fact, lie. I saw women with could move their feet so quickly it’d put a highschool football team’s practice to shame. And they all loved dancing. Well, except for the dozen white people who littered the edge of the room and danced the nervous two step (one step forward, one step back).
2) I saw that a dance show was being performed by a dance school at the Franco-Mozambican cultural institute. Thinking that a choreographed version of that party’s dancing might be performed, I rocked up pretty excited. The show was introduced with much enthusiasm – the teachers had many credentials; the class had been influenced by many styles of dance; this show was four months in the making. They came on stage… They were eight years old. Not only that – they were awful. The first dance was to Ma Baker by Boney M. They weren’t in time, they weren’t altogether, their moves were elementary at best. And, oh yeah, THEY WERE EIGHT YEARS OLD. I left three quarters of the way through the first song. Medical Insurance could learn from this false advertising.
Now, I’m settled into my little life here in Maputo. I’ve put my Couch up for Surf and am hosting my first guest this week, with many on the way over the next 6 days. I’m still trying to decide whether or not to learn Portuguese (I can kind of get by with my Spanish, and I don’t want Portuguese to completely mess up my Spanish. I’m standing on a house of cards here). The weather is a perfect 78F (low 20sC) all day, and jumper weather at night.
Oh yeah… and I guess I have a job for 8 hours a day. Next post?
Thanks for reading!
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