On my way back to the Netherlands. Sitting here in the airport lounge of Nairobi waiting some 6 hours for my KLM flight to Amsterdam. I just arrived here from Kigali on Kenya Airways. So far so good. Let's hope my suitcase will make it too, so my overall score of actually arriving with my suitcase at the final destination remains over 50%.
This will probably be the last post from Africa for a while as my assignment is over and there's no new exotic assignment on the horizon. This last one - as tradition demands - will be a collection of small little titbits of info and experiences.
Grenade
This just in! Last night somebody, probably a Hutu hard-liner, threw a grenade into the Kigali Memorial (the genocide museum), killing one police officer. It is still genocide memorial week and, like I stated in my previous post, the genocide ideology is still very much alive in some parts. Scary people.
Off the Chart!
Restaurants here are funny. Whenever you go out with 3 or more persons (that number seems to be the tipping point) there is a 99+ % chance that at least one of the meals you ordered is not available. At every restaurant! The best part is that they don't always say that right away. Sometimes you actually eat your entrées first (for the Americans out there: entrées is French for starters, not main courses), wait for another 15 or so minutes and then the waiter comes out to tell you your main course is not available.
White Ride
Taxi's are cute too. They have local and tourist prices. Well, it's actually the Muzungu price. Muzungu is local for white person, like Mulungu in Moçambique, Makamba in Curaçao or Bakra in Surinam. Once I went out with a Rwandan friend and as we left the place, he stopped a cab an negotiated a good price. As we were about to get in, the cab driver noticed me and immediately doubled the price. Of course, my friend didn't agree. The cab driver started pleading with him along the lines of "But he's Muzungu! You have to give me this opportunity to make him pay. It's the system!". He was more or less annoyed at my friend for denying him this opportunity to make me overpay.
However, people, including taxi drivers, are very trusting. On more that one occasion I got in a taxi, only to find out later that either I didn't have enough cash on me or that the diver didn't have change. "No problem! You pay me next time" and that was it. He would find me one way or another and than I would pay. Can you imagine that in 'our' world?
Street Selling
Kigali is nowhere near Maputo when it comes to selling stuff on the street. As you probably remember from previous posts, the Maputo streets combined make up one large open air mobile shopping mall. Guys run around selling everything. Kigali not. Apart from a whole bunch of boys selling prepaid cards for your mobile phone, you hardly find street sellers. It is mainly limited to some guys selling magazines and newspapers and some other selling maps. Yes, maps. Maps of the city, the country or the continent. And not street maps, but the kind you hang on your office wall. I had no idea you could make a living of maps.
What you can also do on the street is make a phone call. No, not with your cell phone and not in a public phone. Well.... some sort of public phone. You have guys walking the street carrying what looks like a desk phone. Just like the one in your office. The difference is that there is as small antenna attached to it. These guys are some sort of mobile public pay phone. You stop them, make your call and then pay for it. It's a funny sight seeing someone making a phone call holding the horn while some guys is standing next to him holding a telephone base station in his hands.
Street Labour
As I mentioned before the streets are very clean and that is partially due to a local tradition. On every last Saturday of the month, between 9 and 11 am, people stop doing their usual routine, but all go on the street to clean it. I'm not kidding! The government has introduced this form of community service and all participate. Cars on the road stop, people get out and clean the street! Can you imagine this? In Holland you only have to clean the streets for some 80 hours after having committed at least 3 murders in the first degree!
By the way, if you ever intend to travel to Rwanda, do not bring plastic bags. They will not allow plastic bags to enter the country and you will have to leave it at the airport customs. All stores also pack your groceries in brown paper bags.
Night Life... or dead.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what some of you really want to know is, what the night life in Kigali is like. The short version is that night life in Kigali is slow... barely existent. You have 2 dance clubs, one dance lounge and a small handful of bar restaurants. One particular bar restaurant is quite okay. It's called Republika and you can eat outside on a terrace overlooking the city. Inside is the bar where people have drinks on a weekend night before they go out. They play way-too-loud R&B music on way-too-small speakers. The music is totally distorted, but so are the ears of the staff, since none of them seems to notice it. And it is like that every night.
Then there's the B Club (or Big Club, as no one seems to agree on the name). That's a very pretty lounge place. Trendy interior and trendy prices! Normally you pay some EUR 1.20 for a beer in Kigali night-life, but in B-Club a double vodka red-bull will set you back some 14 Euros.
Then there are the two clubs. Cadillac is a place mostly visited by locals, with the occasional muzungu. They play mostly R&B, hip-hop and local dance beats. When you walk in this place, you think you've just time-travelled back to the late seventies. It's dark! Very dark and the lighting exists of tons and tons of blacklight (the purple UV light that makes your fake peroxide blonde hair light up like Baghdad) and a whole bunch of light tubes. Remember those? The transparent garden hoses with running lights in it. These days you only see these being used as Xmas lighting at home, but in Cadillac it still has the coolness factor.
The most famous dance club is Planet Club, but all locals refer to it as KBC. It is located in the Kigali Business Centre, and business is definitely something that goes on in there. The place itself is quite dark and divided into several sections. There's the dance floor, a bar area, a section with pool tables and a large lounge area with comfortable couches, beds and two large film projection screens.
Even though it is a normal club, frequented by locals and foreigners, it is also very much a working girl place and therefore quite dodgy if you're a white male and not interested. You will be hunted down and after she has shown her 3 best dance moves in front of you, she will tell you the code words: "Will you buy me a beer?". Saying 'No!' means "I'm not interested" and she'll walk away looking for the next victim.
Of course, naive me didn't understand that at first. The first night I was there, I was standing at the bar ordering a beer for me and a colleague. A girl came up and popped the question. In Mozambique it was not unusual that a girl would ask the same question, but there it meant exactly that. You're a white guy in a position to buy a local person a drink. No strings attached. So in Planet I decided to be nice and actually gave the girl a beer. She just looked at it with surprise and then gave it back telling me she didn't actually want a beer. That's when I realised my mistake. Oh well, more beer for me!
There's one thing I see in Kigali night clubs which I haven't seen anywhere before. The large number of guys that are sleeping in a club. Once it gets late, you will notice guys all around you sleeping. In their chair, on a couch, with their head on a table, in a barstool leaning on the bar, everywhere! It's bizarre! Go home!
Musicology
I will leave you, Rwanda and this blog with the most spectacular item I have found in Africa. Forget about the elephants, shrimps, the cars and even the gorilla's. The best item to be found here is the following Hifi Stereo Set (for those of you that think Wham! is a laundry detergent: HiFi stands for High Fidelity and that was as spectacular back then as Dolby DTS THX Digital 7.1 Surround is today). This is the mother of all sound systems! I think we should all save up and buy it for James' new apartment. It will come in handy during his house-warming party. I found in a local supermarket, which - by the way - also sells tennis rackets, garden chairs and pool tables. And it's only 800 Euros!
Do notice the opening at the top. That space is especially carved in there for your CD player, which is not included. What?? You thought that 800 Euros would by you ALL those lights AND a CD player?? Get real!!
Friday, 11 April 2008
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
The G-word
Back then in January when I started telling people I would go to Rwanda for my work, almost everyone made the same face. It's that face you make when somebody tells you that tonight you'll be eating in a 5 star restaurant having steamed mice meat accompanied by mashed leeches with a cockroaches syrup. It's that combination of surprise and disgust, mixed in with a little bit of shock. And they all repeat that word slowly, as if they haven't heard it right: "Ru...wan...da?!?!?"
And that is for one single reason only. What happened back then in 1994. Yes, it has been 14 years ago and it lasted about 100 days, but most people seem to have that image stuck in their minds as if today it is still a daily thing. Well, actually it still happens sporadically in the very remote villages. I am, of course, talking about the genocide. There's no way you can do a blog on staying in Rwanda and not touching this subject at all. I will not start with a history lesson here, apart from saying that it is a lot more complex than the simple version of Hutu's trying to wipe out Tutsi's. For starters, they executed their own as well.
I'll admit, apart from watching Hotel Rwanda a few years ago, I actually did not know much about the story. Back then when it happened, I had just started my first job at the bank in Curaçao. That island is already not known for its focus on world affairs and the fact that the story was barely told outside this country didn't help either. I could've - and probably should've - read up on it before coming here. In the end, it didn't matter that much, as once you get here, you're knowledge on the subject will quickly be updated, as it still dominates life over here.
Not that people talk about it much. Quite the contrary, but prosecution of the leaders is still going on, some hard-liners are still hidden in the jungles of D.R. Congo, a lot of campaigning is done to ensure this never happens again and of course, many people here lost close family members. Some lost all of them.
Some three weeks ago I visited the Kigali Memorial which is a 'museum' dedicated to tell the story, to educate on the subject for prevention purposes and to bury the unidentifiable bodies still found today. It is a large two story house with a very well kept garden. The ground floor tells the story of the genocide starting with the colonisation and how the different occupants contributed to the division between the Hutu's and the Tutsi's. It is mostly text, photo's and a few 2 minute video interviews with survivors. In the centre are two different rooms. One with a large collection of family portraits of victims and the second with mainly bones coming from dug up mass graves. A bit eerie.
The second floor is a collection of small rooms, each dedicated to a different genocide in the history of the world. Obviously there is one dedicated to the second world war, but also to the killing fields of Cambodia and the fairly recent Serbian acts of genocide. Yes, Europe is actually quite the 'leader' on the subject. Oh yeah, there's also one room dedicated to the Turkish acts in Armenia some 100 years ago. Yes, while European governments are disputing among themselves and with Turkey whether or not to label it a genocide, it seems that the Rwandans have already officially made up their minds.
Then April 7th is Genocide Memorial day. The entire country goes into some sort of mourning. It's a countrywide funeral and everybody attends. Restaurants and bars close, sport activities are put on hold and people are quite subdued. My hotel even drains the swimming pool and closes the gym for the entire week. It is an extensive and lengthy commemoration, probably also due to the fact that people have different days in which they lost their family members.
There are calls out there suggesting that it has been a while ago now and that the people should start looking forward and not mourn the past any more. At least not to this extend. It's a tough and sensitive subject and let's face it! 14 years is not that long ago. It is less than a single generation! By comparison, how many years has the second world war been commemorated?
Well, whatever the result of that debate, the genocide is still very much a subject today. Just two weeks ago was the 4th annual Rwandan Film Festival. They quite appropriately named it Hillywood. The head of the organising committee announced that this year it would be less 'heavy' as previous years and they would even have "some comedies programmed". Well, some colleagues and myself attended most of the evenings and studied the entire programme, but the only comic part about the festival was the state of the technology used. Programmes printed after the festival, screens that waved in the wind, copied or - more likely - downloaded movies with Dutch (!) subtitles and an inflatable screen that simply did not inflate.
And the movies were all on sub-Sahara Africa and what happens or happened there. Let's face it, not much of it is great material for a comedy. Also, as a film-maker said with some disappointment, they do not get subsidies to make non-historical movies. The American and European NGO's that provide the funds have objectives to educate and confront the viewers, more than to stimulate the art of film making in Africa.
In the end I only watched one movie. It was on the subject of - obviously - the genocide. It is called Shake Hands with the Devil and it is the story of the Canadian United Nations General at the time of the genocide. It describes mostly how he, his staff and soldiers, the UN and the local and international political community acted during these 100 days. It is based on his autobiography and a very insightful story, especially from a political standpoint.
Other movies on the subject are, of course Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. The later is called that, because that's all the UN soldiers were authorised to do. They shot the dogs that were feeding themselves on the rotting corpses lying on the streets... In the first week I also met a French film crew, which had been here for months and were shooting a movie on the role of the French before and during the genocide. It is not a pretty story. The working title - and probably the release title as well - is Operation Turquoise.
For the time being, many persons will still make that face when hearing of coming here. That will change at some point, as this is a nice country with some very nice people. True, a lot of them did not-so-nice things back then and the country has been trying to deal with it since. They've abolished the registration of tribe on identity cards and spend a lot of energy in education. As a friend of mine here said, when asked whether he was Hutu or Tutsi: "We are all Rwandans".
And that is for one single reason only. What happened back then in 1994. Yes, it has been 14 years ago and it lasted about 100 days, but most people seem to have that image stuck in their minds as if today it is still a daily thing. Well, actually it still happens sporadically in the very remote villages. I am, of course, talking about the genocide. There's no way you can do a blog on staying in Rwanda and not touching this subject at all. I will not start with a history lesson here, apart from saying that it is a lot more complex than the simple version of Hutu's trying to wipe out Tutsi's. For starters, they executed their own as well.
I'll admit, apart from watching Hotel Rwanda a few years ago, I actually did not know much about the story. Back then when it happened, I had just started my first job at the bank in Curaçao. That island is already not known for its focus on world affairs and the fact that the story was barely told outside this country didn't help either. I could've - and probably should've - read up on it before coming here. In the end, it didn't matter that much, as once you get here, you're knowledge on the subject will quickly be updated, as it still dominates life over here.
Not that people talk about it much. Quite the contrary, but prosecution of the leaders is still going on, some hard-liners are still hidden in the jungles of D.R. Congo, a lot of campaigning is done to ensure this never happens again and of course, many people here lost close family members. Some lost all of them.
Some three weeks ago I visited the Kigali Memorial which is a 'museum' dedicated to tell the story, to educate on the subject for prevention purposes and to bury the unidentifiable bodies still found today. It is a large two story house with a very well kept garden. The ground floor tells the story of the genocide starting with the colonisation and how the different occupants contributed to the division between the Hutu's and the Tutsi's. It is mostly text, photo's and a few 2 minute video interviews with survivors. In the centre are two different rooms. One with a large collection of family portraits of victims and the second with mainly bones coming from dug up mass graves. A bit eerie.
The second floor is a collection of small rooms, each dedicated to a different genocide in the history of the world. Obviously there is one dedicated to the second world war, but also to the killing fields of Cambodia and the fairly recent Serbian acts of genocide. Yes, Europe is actually quite the 'leader' on the subject. Oh yeah, there's also one room dedicated to the Turkish acts in Armenia some 100 years ago. Yes, while European governments are disputing among themselves and with Turkey whether or not to label it a genocide, it seems that the Rwandans have already officially made up their minds.
Then April 7th is Genocide Memorial day. The entire country goes into some sort of mourning. It's a countrywide funeral and everybody attends. Restaurants and bars close, sport activities are put on hold and people are quite subdued. My hotel even drains the swimming pool and closes the gym for the entire week. It is an extensive and lengthy commemoration, probably also due to the fact that people have different days in which they lost their family members.
There are calls out there suggesting that it has been a while ago now and that the people should start looking forward and not mourn the past any more. At least not to this extend. It's a tough and sensitive subject and let's face it! 14 years is not that long ago. It is less than a single generation! By comparison, how many years has the second world war been commemorated?
Well, whatever the result of that debate, the genocide is still very much a subject today. Just two weeks ago was the 4th annual Rwandan Film Festival. They quite appropriately named it Hillywood. The head of the organising committee announced that this year it would be less 'heavy' as previous years and they would even have "some comedies programmed". Well, some colleagues and myself attended most of the evenings and studied the entire programme, but the only comic part about the festival was the state of the technology used. Programmes printed after the festival, screens that waved in the wind, copied or - more likely - downloaded movies with Dutch (!) subtitles and an inflatable screen that simply did not inflate.
And the movies were all on sub-Sahara Africa and what happens or happened there. Let's face it, not much of it is great material for a comedy. Also, as a film-maker said with some disappointment, they do not get subsidies to make non-historical movies. The American and European NGO's that provide the funds have objectives to educate and confront the viewers, more than to stimulate the art of film making in Africa.
In the end I only watched one movie. It was on the subject of - obviously - the genocide. It is called Shake Hands with the Devil and it is the story of the Canadian United Nations General at the time of the genocide. It describes mostly how he, his staff and soldiers, the UN and the local and international political community acted during these 100 days. It is based on his autobiography and a very insightful story, especially from a political standpoint.
Other movies on the subject are, of course Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. The later is called that, because that's all the UN soldiers were authorised to do. They shot the dogs that were feeding themselves on the rotting corpses lying on the streets... In the first week I also met a French film crew, which had been here for months and were shooting a movie on the role of the French before and during the genocide. It is not a pretty story. The working title - and probably the release title as well - is Operation Turquoise.
For the time being, many persons will still make that face when hearing of coming here. That will change at some point, as this is a nice country with some very nice people. True, a lot of them did not-so-nice things back then and the country has been trying to deal with it since. They've abolished the registration of tribe on identity cards and spend a lot of energy in education. As a friend of mine here said, when asked whether he was Hutu or Tutsi: "We are all Rwandans".
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
Gorillas in the Mist.... and Rain!
Riiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiing! @#&#$! My 04:00 am wake up call! On a Saturday morning! Isn't that normally a time to order your last beer before you go home...? Well, reason for this early call was our 04:30 pick up at the hotel to go on a 2.5 hour drive to Kinigi. What's at Kinigi? Volcanoes Park. And what's at Volcanoes Park? Volcanoes of course! Some 8 of them, of which 3 are actually active. But that wasn't the reason we were going there. No, we were going to track down and observe a few of the remaining 650 gorilla's in the world. Yes, we were on the hunt for King Kong!The driver came on time, we loaded up the car with water, food, camera's and spare clothes and we were on our way. During the ride I was trying to get back to dreamland, but as I soon found out, that is impossible in this country. Rwanda is not nicknamed Land of Thousand Hills for nothing. That implies that there's basically no such thing as a straight road. The entire ride was a continuous mountain road and one with many holes in it too. No way you could even think of dozing off.
The driver was a fast dude too. He was racing this road, which - by the way - was unlit and thus pitch dark. After less than two hours we were at the head office of the park keepers. There we got introduced to our guides and the rest of the group of 8, all from England. We also found out that we might actually come as close as 7 meters from a gorilla. Seven meters! Now that was stuff to get excited about. Other instructions included not using flash lights and it is okay to look a gorilla in the eye. It is okay!!! For you non-Dutchies out there, last year a woman in a Dutch zoo was attacked by a gorilla named Bokito, which got excited as she had stalked him for the past months and escaped his cage. Immediately all the publicity hungry experts came forward saying that you should not look a gorilla in the eye. Yeah right! And Global Warming only exists in the imagination of Al Gore...
First we had to drive another 30 minutes on a very rocky road to get to the foot of the mountain. The road looked like the surface of the moon (or the surface of the Hollywood studio the moon landing was filmed in, depending on which story you believe). At the destination we got our climbing stick and we could hire a Sherpa for our bags if we wanted. Later we found out that the Sherpa's came more in handy for carrying people than bags.We were now at 2,400 meters above sea level, the air was already thinning and we still had a 500 meter climb ahead of us. The trackers - who are the guys that go up early in the morning to locate the gorilla's - radioed in that they had found the kongs. We were ready to find them! To hunt them down! To smoke them out of their cages! Ehhh.... No! That was someone else.
Luckily, the weather cooperated. It was dry with quite cool temperatures, which is not that surprising given our height. The climb started pretty relaxed. Just a slightly uphill walk. That soon changed. Within ten minutes we were climbing. I mean climbing! The ground was wet and slippery and the way up was steep. The path, or whatever was left of it was totally overgrown, full of nettles and often blocked by tree trunks and rocks. The guides hadn't told us how far and how high up the hike would be. I guess they both passed their Expectation Management training.About 2.5 hours later we finally came close to the gorilla's. We were now at 2,900 meters. Unfortunately for us, the animals were not so kind, as to find a spot for themselves which we could easily approach. No, we had to do some serious climbing on vertical mountainsides followed by lowering yourself using lianes ("Me Tarzan, You Insane") to land on a ledge. This is not an activity for people suffering from vertigo. From there on we had to slowly move a few meters and then..... we saw our first gorilla! It was just sitting there on the bushes some 4 meters below us eating.
At first you remain very still and whisper "look! there's one!" and watch in amazement. Then soon you see more. Gorilla's travel in groups and stick together. There is usually one male leader, a silverback. Our group had 9 gorilla's, including 2 kids and one 18 month old baby. That baby was of the "ohhhh, he's so cute. I want one!" type.
The gorilla's basically did one thing: eat! It seems that they eat 15% of their bodyweight on a daily basis. For me that would mean 13.5 kilos of food every day! Where's that buffet??? And..... Don't bother to calculate. Yes, I weight 90 kilos. All beer muscles of course... And you know what these animals do continuously? Fart! And they don't even apologise!They moved on as we got closer. At first I thought it was because of us, but I realised later that people do not really bother them at all. Apart from the occasional glance, it seemed like we were not there. as long as we didn't annoy them, everything seemed fine.
At some point we saw the silverback. The others are quite cute and not even that big. An adult would be around 1.50 meters I guess. The silverback, however, is the big strong gorilla! Now ladies, don't get too excited now. I know most of you have King Kong fantasies, wanting to be swept away with that big strong hand, of that big strong beast, with that soft heart. You girls all get weak knees and mushy in the head with that thought, don't you?
The big boss is obviously the most mean and aggressive looking. The others seem to be quite relaxed, even friendly. Remember the 7 meter sign back at the office? Foggetaboutit! You can almost come as close as you want. At some moments I was as close as 1 meter from a gorilla. Not the silverback, but the others. A kid gorilla even used my leg as a pole to swing around me as he needed to get to his mother. That was awesome!At times I wondered if the experience was 'real' enough, but we were not in a zoo, nor in a circus. We were at 2,900 meter in the middle of a rain forest jungle in the middle of Africa. These animals were real! Okay, probably more or less used to people by now, but still... They were in their natural habitat and there are only a few of them left in the world.
We spent about an hour with them and then it was time to head back. Almost exactly at that time it started to rain. No, not drizzle... Rain! with a vengeance! There we were, on top of a tropical volcano with a tropical rain pouring down on us. Going up a mountain is tiresome but doable. Going down a mountain is tough and if it rains: nearly impossible! I spent 500 meters downwards slipping and sliding. By the time I was finally down, I looked like a very muddy bigfoot. I was an exhausted, soaked, mud-covered, but very very happy guy! What an experience!
PS: Below is a video showing a gorilla doing what gorilla's do best: Munching away! a real Burger King Kong
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Chichen, Kawaccino and a Mützig
I've been here now just over three weeks and have tried out quite a few restaurants. There is some variation to be found. For example, you've got many buffet restaurants. Buffets are a big thing here, for lunch as well as dinner. You pay a fixed price, so far ranging in between RWF 2,500 for the cheapest lunch place - where you are allowed two tiny pieces of meat or you pay 500 per additional pebble - and RWF 11,000 for the all-you-can-eat BBQ buffet at our hotel. That is on Sundays only.
You get to pick your choices of raw meat, ranging from chicken to cow and any (regular) animal in between, which are then thrown over an open fire. About ten minutes later you come back, only to find out that the guy operating the BBQ has mixed up every order. If you're really unlucky - and for some reason everybody seems to be - you're selection of veal, lamb and a chicken skewer magically transformed into a greasy sausage, an undercooked pork chop and a piece of goat even Jaws would find hard to chew on.
The rest of the buffet is actually quite nice. Good salad bar and a wide range of cooked vegetables, different styles of rice and potatoes done in various ways. Only the chips (=fries) are, like in Mozambique, below par. Greasy, pale and mushy... A bit like Elvis in the seventies.
Then there are also a few Chinese restaurants. These are okay. Nothing really special. One's walking distance from the hotel on a rooftop. Place looks quite cozy, but is a bit too dark. The few oil lamps they have, are constantly being moved from table to table by the waitresses, in order for the guests to actually read the menu. Maybe it's dark on purpose, since the menu mostly has strangely familiar sounding meals like fried lice (which sounds like something from Fear Factor), curry chichen (no, it's not Mexican), meet wonton ('Hi Wonton! I'm Roberto!') and of course moodles (cow noodles?).
There's also a slightly more up scale place called Legends. It's symbol is a bright flashing sea horse which you can see for miles around. If you didn't know any better, you'ld think the place was some sort of a gentlemen's club. Legends... the place where legends operate.... on you! It is actually one of the better places to eat. They have a wine list which has a non-Italian Pinot Grigio (my favourite) and the menu includes wraps, pizzas, Indian curries, steaks, salads and pasta. An international kitchen indeed!
For lunch you can do the food court at the mini-mall which has one mini-buffet and one pizza place. The pizzas are somewhere in between a thin and a pan pizza. Nothing to get too excited about. Then in the same mall is a coffee/lunch place called Bourbon Coffee. At first the place looks like the lunch place to be. Nicely decorated and a large coffee menu with all types, flavours and sizes of coffee. Even the names sound Starbucksian (including a Vanilla Bean Kawaccino). And the menu looks quite good too. Soups, salads, omelettes, sandwiches and burgers. A typical lunch card and they've got free WiFi too. Okay, admittedly, it is more like LoFi, but fine.
But then.... The service! It is horrible! Really really really horrible! I must've visited over 60 countries by now and a gazillion restaurants, but without a doubt, this place has the worst service of all. We experienced it all! Being ignored, having to go to the counter to order myself, reminding them of it (3 times!), having the order mixed up, brought in the wrong sequence, group meals being brought 30 minutes apart, missing ingredients, ingredients not asked for (tomatoes, yuck!) and an erroneous bill. And this was only the most recent visit last Monday! How much can you do wrong with a simple 2 person business lunch? It was my 4th visit there and none have gone as should. I'm passing on Bourbon for the time being.
Then of course... there's my place! The greatest lunch place of all. It has the most elaborate buffet for RWF 5,000 (6 euros) or you can go á la carte. You can sit inside, on the terrace or in a hut in the garden, in between flowers and two garden hoses aiming at the sky pretending to be fountains. Yes, welcome to Chez Robert.
I could go on describing some of the other places including the various hotel restaurants, an Indian, an Ethiopian and the Kabana pizza joint next door, but that's all for you to find out if you're ever in this neighbourhood. The remaining question on everyone's lip is of course: how about the local food? Well, simple! It's typical creole style food like some of you know from South America or the Caribbean: Lime chicken, cooked corn dough (a.k.a. Xima or Funchi), eggplant and the classic goat stew. So far, I haven't seen any real typical nowhere-else-to-be-found Rwandan food, but maybe I haven't been looking in the right places. Maybe Bri can shed some light on this and come up with some must eat local stuff?
PS: I almost forgot! The local brew! Maputo became legendary partially for their beers. The Laurentina and my favourite 2/M beers were excellent. In Rwanda there are two locally brewed beers you can get anywhere. One's the Dutch Amstel and the other is the Mützig. This beer is not that bad, especially the draft version. Not as good as a 2/M but a worthy successor. So worthy that Heineken actually bought it.
You get to pick your choices of raw meat, ranging from chicken to cow and any (regular) animal in between, which are then thrown over an open fire. About ten minutes later you come back, only to find out that the guy operating the BBQ has mixed up every order. If you're really unlucky - and for some reason everybody seems to be - you're selection of veal, lamb and a chicken skewer magically transformed into a greasy sausage, an undercooked pork chop and a piece of goat even Jaws would find hard to chew on.
The rest of the buffet is actually quite nice. Good salad bar and a wide range of cooked vegetables, different styles of rice and potatoes done in various ways. Only the chips (=fries) are, like in Mozambique, below par. Greasy, pale and mushy... A bit like Elvis in the seventies.
Then there are also a few Chinese restaurants. These are okay. Nothing really special. One's walking distance from the hotel on a rooftop. Place looks quite cozy, but is a bit too dark. The few oil lamps they have, are constantly being moved from table to table by the waitresses, in order for the guests to actually read the menu. Maybe it's dark on purpose, since the menu mostly has strangely familiar sounding meals like fried lice (which sounds like something from Fear Factor), curry chichen (no, it's not Mexican), meet wonton ('Hi Wonton! I'm Roberto!') and of course moodles (cow noodles?).
There's also a slightly more up scale place called Legends. It's symbol is a bright flashing sea horse which you can see for miles around. If you didn't know any better, you'ld think the place was some sort of a gentlemen's club. Legends... the place where legends operate.... on you! It is actually one of the better places to eat. They have a wine list which has a non-Italian Pinot Grigio (my favourite) and the menu includes wraps, pizzas, Indian curries, steaks, salads and pasta. An international kitchen indeed!
For lunch you can do the food court at the mini-mall which has one mini-buffet and one pizza place. The pizzas are somewhere in between a thin and a pan pizza. Nothing to get too excited about. Then in the same mall is a coffee/lunch place called Bourbon Coffee. At first the place looks like the lunch place to be. Nicely decorated and a large coffee menu with all types, flavours and sizes of coffee. Even the names sound Starbucksian (including a Vanilla Bean Kawaccino). And the menu looks quite good too. Soups, salads, omelettes, sandwiches and burgers. A typical lunch card and they've got free WiFi too. Okay, admittedly, it is more like LoFi, but fine.
But then.... The service! It is horrible! Really really really horrible! I must've visited over 60 countries by now and a gazillion restaurants, but without a doubt, this place has the worst service of all. We experienced it all! Being ignored, having to go to the counter to order myself, reminding them of it (3 times!), having the order mixed up, brought in the wrong sequence, group meals being brought 30 minutes apart, missing ingredients, ingredients not asked for (tomatoes, yuck!) and an erroneous bill. And this was only the most recent visit last Monday! How much can you do wrong with a simple 2 person business lunch? It was my 4th visit there and none have gone as should. I'm passing on Bourbon for the time being.
Then of course... there's my place! The greatest lunch place of all. It has the most elaborate buffet for RWF 5,000 (6 euros) or you can go á la carte. You can sit inside, on the terrace or in a hut in the garden, in between flowers and two garden hoses aiming at the sky pretending to be fountains. Yes, welcome to Chez Robert.
I could go on describing some of the other places including the various hotel restaurants, an Indian, an Ethiopian and the Kabana pizza joint next door, but that's all for you to find out if you're ever in this neighbourhood. The remaining question on everyone's lip is of course: how about the local food? Well, simple! It's typical creole style food like some of you know from South America or the Caribbean: Lime chicken, cooked corn dough (a.k.a. Xima or Funchi), eggplant and the classic goat stew. So far, I haven't seen any real typical nowhere-else-to-be-found Rwandan food, but maybe I haven't been looking in the right places. Maybe Bri can shed some light on this and come up with some must eat local stuff?
PS: I almost forgot! The local brew! Maputo became legendary partially for their beers. The Laurentina and my favourite 2/M beers were excellent. In Rwanda there are two locally brewed beers you can get anywhere. One's the Dutch Amstel and the other is the Mützig. This beer is not that bad, especially the draft version. Not as good as a 2/M but a worthy successor. So worthy that Heineken actually bought it.
Sunday, 16 March 2008
Die Meister, die Besten, les meilleurs equipes, the champions.
The Managing Director of the bank is also the Treasurer for the Rwandan National Football Association, so he took us to an important football match in Kigali the first Saturday I was here. How important? Hugely important! It was an African Champions League match. The most popular club of Rwanda called Rayon Sport played their return match against the Ethiopian champions Harar Beer. With a name like that, you should be champion every year! The first match in Ethiopia ended in a 2-0 victory for the brewers (of are they the drinkers?), so the task of the local heroes was clear. Win with at least 2-0 to avoid elimination.
We were being picked up at 14:30 by the MD, but at 13:00 hrs while I was enjoying a nice Club Sandwich (no tomatoes!) the rain came down with a vengeance! There are two rain seasons in Rwanda and one of them is in March/April. Yeah, lucky me...
And it was pouring! A typical tropical rainstorm with those large raindrops, wind and even a bit of lightning. Surely the game would be cancelled... or not? I called our host to get the confirmation on the cancellation, but to my surprise he told me not to worry "because it was covered". Covered? A covered stadium in Kigali? With a real roof? One that would open and close? No way!
Oh well, I went back upstairs to get my jacket and at the agreed time our colleague picked us up. If you drive the main roads of Kigali it looks very clean and modern. At times I even think it's like driving through an American suburb. On the way to the stadium though, we passed through poorer neighbourhoods and all of a sudden Kigali looked African again. And as we got closer to the stadium, more and more people dressed in blue and white populated the sandy road. It was that typical feeling of pre-game excitement, when fans sing and cheer in anticipation of their teams good performance.
After a 15 minute drive we got to the Stade Regional de Nyamirambo. Yes, the stadium in which the game would be held. As it had rained heavily and there was still some downpour, the area outside the place was one big muddy field. Of course, we were in the car with a member of the Rwandan FA, so we had the privilege of VIP parking. This parking is inside the stadium were you basically park your car behind one of the goals. As a VIP you basically run the risk of getting your wind shield smashed by a shot that missed its intended target (assuming of course that the player intended to score a goal).
So, we were now inside the stadium. Well... ehh... stadium? The stadium is a football pitch with a large wall around it. Inside there are two stands on either side of the field. One has about 4 levels of concrete to sit on and the other main stand is about 15 concrete steps high. For those of you from Curaçao, it looked a bit like the old Rif or Suffisant "Stadiums".
And covered? Ha! Of course not. The VIP stand was covered! That's why we were told not to worry. We had V-I-P seats. This means that instead of sitting on the concrete steps we had plastic garden chairs to sit in. There was even a higher level of VIPs with highly ranked politicians and club presidents. They sat on meeting room chairs!
Luckily the pitch was artificial turf (a donation from the FIFA), so the game would not suffer from the rain. The teams lined up to greet the crowd and take the mandatory team photo's. All this time the - uncovered - stand to our left got fuller and fuller with the most fanatic fans of Rayon Sport. The entire game they created a continuous party with African drum beats, songs and even a some tribal dancing. One guy acted as the spiritual leader and kneeled in front of the stands, shaking his body to the rhythm and beating the soil with his hands. Probably calling up the spirits to bless the team and lead them to victory.
The game started and from the first minute it was clear what both teams' objectives were. Rayon went furiously on the attack and the Ethiopians just wanted to waste time. From the very first minute! They were on the ground so often, I almost felt like calling in some UN food droppings to strengthen them a bit.
The locals played very well but just couldn't score. Enough chances, but poor finishing. Half time score therefore was 0-0 and the fans started looking a bit worried. But not our "medicine man"! No, he was still doing is tribal dancing and obviously had faith in the final result.
Second half started and it was a copy of the first half, until the 73th minute. Finally Rayon Sport scored and the stadium erupted! People cheered, yelled and danced! The drums got beaten on more intensely and this is when it happened! Panic with the security! The medicine man had collapsed and lay there motionless on the ground. The Red Cross, who until then had had their hands full with all the suffering Ethiopian players, were rushed to him and (what looked like a real) doctor came from the VIP section to check what was going on. 5 minutes later the boy was carried out of the stadium and the doctor returned, making the well known gesture that the spiritual leader had had a bit too much of the spirits. No, not the ones from the afterlife, but the ones that come in bottles from your local liquor store.
Everybody focused again on the game and some 5 minutes before the end Rayon sport scored their second. It was now 2-0 and that meant that the local heroes had wiped out the poor result from the first match. The Ethiopians looked lost and had to hold on for dear life to make it to the final whistle. They succeeded in that objective. Both matched had now ended in 2-0 victories, meaning that there had to be more action to decide this one. I was ready for the extra 30 minutes, but to my surprise it went straight to penalties.
The penalties turned out to be something from a movie. A Hollywood movie of course. Harar Beer missed their first penalty, but all other went in easily until the very last one of Rayon Sport. The 5th player went up to the penalty spot and if he scored, it would be all over and Kigali could start partying. The crowd held their breath as he ran up to the ball and took the shot...
From then on everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The shot was to the right of the goal keeper, who anticipated well and dove towards the ball. He stopped it with his hands as I heard someone behind me whisper "sh*t!". However, the ball slipped from his hand, went via his legs and slowly rolled on the goal line. It was like a scene from a basketball flick where the winning shot just rolls and rolls on the rim, before falling in.
The ball rolled all the way to the other side of the goal. The goalkeeper saw this, got up and ran after it to stop it from crossing the line. Everybody just stared at the ball praying for it to go in. It was as if time stood still. As the Ethiopian goalkeeper dove towards the ball, it actually decided to cross the goal line at the very end. Everybody looked at the ref... he signalled goal!
The game was over. Rayon Sport qualified for the next round and the party started. People ran on the pitch, the fans went wild, and in the meanwhile the opponents attacked the referee. It took some 20 heavily armed military police to separate the opponents from the officials.
Finally things settled and we could leave the stadium. On our way back it was a party. The street were full of fans cheering and waving with whatever blue and white they had. Scarfs, sheets, flags, towels, anything! As long as it was blue and white. Well, that day we became a bit blue and white too! Go Rayon Sport!
PS: That last penalty sounds to unreal to be true. Luckily after the game I met Eric, the webmaster of the local football federation, who filmed it with his digicam. Check it out! Apologies for the text on the screen, but that is because it was converted with trial software.
We were being picked up at 14:30 by the MD, but at 13:00 hrs while I was enjoying a nice Club Sandwich (no tomatoes!) the rain came down with a vengeance! There are two rain seasons in Rwanda and one of them is in March/April. Yeah, lucky me...
And it was pouring! A typical tropical rainstorm with those large raindrops, wind and even a bit of lightning. Surely the game would be cancelled... or not? I called our host to get the confirmation on the cancellation, but to my surprise he told me not to worry "because it was covered". Covered? A covered stadium in Kigali? With a real roof? One that would open and close? No way!
Oh well, I went back upstairs to get my jacket and at the agreed time our colleague picked us up. If you drive the main roads of Kigali it looks very clean and modern. At times I even think it's like driving through an American suburb. On the way to the stadium though, we passed through poorer neighbourhoods and all of a sudden Kigali looked African again. And as we got closer to the stadium, more and more people dressed in blue and white populated the sandy road. It was that typical feeling of pre-game excitement, when fans sing and cheer in anticipation of their teams good performance.
After a 15 minute drive we got to the Stade Regional de Nyamirambo. Yes, the stadium in which the game would be held. As it had rained heavily and there was still some downpour, the area outside the place was one big muddy field. Of course, we were in the car with a member of the Rwandan FA, so we had the privilege of VIP parking. This parking is inside the stadium were you basically park your car behind one of the goals. As a VIP you basically run the risk of getting your wind shield smashed by a shot that missed its intended target (assuming of course that the player intended to score a goal).So, we were now inside the stadium. Well... ehh... stadium? The stadium is a football pitch with a large wall around it. Inside there are two stands on either side of the field. One has about 4 levels of concrete to sit on and the other main stand is about 15 concrete steps high. For those of you from Curaçao, it looked a bit like the old Rif or Suffisant "Stadiums".
And covered? Ha! Of course not. The VIP stand was covered! That's why we were told not to worry. We had V-I-P seats. This means that instead of sitting on the concrete steps we had plastic garden chairs to sit in. There was even a higher level of VIPs with highly ranked politicians and club presidents. They sat on meeting room chairs!
Luckily the pitch was artificial turf (a donation from the FIFA), so the game would not suffer from the rain. The teams lined up to greet the crowd and take the mandatory team photo's. All this time the - uncovered - stand to our left got fuller and fuller with the most fanatic fans of Rayon Sport. The entire game they created a continuous party with African drum beats, songs and even a some tribal dancing. One guy acted as the spiritual leader and kneeled in front of the stands, shaking his body to the rhythm and beating the soil with his hands. Probably calling up the spirits to bless the team and lead them to victory.
The game started and from the first minute it was clear what both teams' objectives were. Rayon went furiously on the attack and the Ethiopians just wanted to waste time. From the very first minute! They were on the ground so often, I almost felt like calling in some UN food droppings to strengthen them a bit.
The locals played very well but just couldn't score. Enough chances, but poor finishing. Half time score therefore was 0-0 and the fans started looking a bit worried. But not our "medicine man"! No, he was still doing is tribal dancing and obviously had faith in the final result.
Second half started and it was a copy of the first half, until the 73th minute. Finally Rayon Sport scored and the stadium erupted! People cheered, yelled and danced! The drums got beaten on more intensely and this is when it happened! Panic with the security! The medicine man had collapsed and lay there motionless on the ground. The Red Cross, who until then had had their hands full with all the suffering Ethiopian players, were rushed to him and (what looked like a real) doctor came from the VIP section to check what was going on. 5 minutes later the boy was carried out of the stadium and the doctor returned, making the well known gesture that the spiritual leader had had a bit too much of the spirits. No, not the ones from the afterlife, but the ones that come in bottles from your local liquor store.
Everybody focused again on the game and some 5 minutes before the end Rayon sport scored their second. It was now 2-0 and that meant that the local heroes had wiped out the poor result from the first match. The Ethiopians looked lost and had to hold on for dear life to make it to the final whistle. They succeeded in that objective. Both matched had now ended in 2-0 victories, meaning that there had to be more action to decide this one. I was ready for the extra 30 minutes, but to my surprise it went straight to penalties.
The penalties turned out to be something from a movie. A Hollywood movie of course. Harar Beer missed their first penalty, but all other went in easily until the very last one of Rayon Sport. The 5th player went up to the penalty spot and if he scored, it would be all over and Kigali could start partying. The crowd held their breath as he ran up to the ball and took the shot...
From then on everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The shot was to the right of the goal keeper, who anticipated well and dove towards the ball. He stopped it with his hands as I heard someone behind me whisper "sh*t!". However, the ball slipped from his hand, went via his legs and slowly rolled on the goal line. It was like a scene from a basketball flick where the winning shot just rolls and rolls on the rim, before falling in.
The ball rolled all the way to the other side of the goal. The goalkeeper saw this, got up and ran after it to stop it from crossing the line. Everybody just stared at the ball praying for it to go in. It was as if time stood still. As the Ethiopian goalkeeper dove towards the ball, it actually decided to cross the goal line at the very end. Everybody looked at the ref... he signalled goal!
The game was over. Rayon Sport qualified for the next round and the party started. People ran on the pitch, the fans went wild, and in the meanwhile the opponents attacked the referee. It took some 20 heavily armed military police to separate the opponents from the officials.
Finally things settled and we could leave the stadium. On our way back it was a party. The street were full of fans cheering and waving with whatever blue and white they had. Scarfs, sheets, flags, towels, anything! As long as it was blue and white. Well, that day we became a bit blue and white too! Go Rayon Sport!
PS: That last penalty sounds to unreal to be true. Luckily after the game I met Eric, the webmaster of the local football federation, who filmed it with his digicam. Check it out! Apologies for the text on the screen, but that is because it was converted with trial software.
Saturday, 8 March 2008
First Impressions
I've been walking and driving around this city for some 9 days now and it is a very different experience. Very different from Maputo. This entry is a collection of first impressions. Obviously there will be lots of generalising and I will likely draw conclusions I shouldn't, but that's why it's listed as first impressions.Rwandans are very nice people. Very friendly. Overall people are a bit introvert, especially compared to Mozambique. Mozambicans have the Latin extravertness and can probably be considered the Brazilians of Africa. Rwanda has a more traditional culture. People have high moral standards which is what makes is quite safe and friendly. For example, I sat in a taxi behind another car who's driver took ages to cross a road. Even when there were huge gaps in between oncoming cars, he didn't dare crossing the road. What do you think my driver did during all this time? He waited patiently! A taxi driver!!! I was biting hard into the seat cushion to avoid shouting "come on!" to him and the guy in front of us! Even Mother Theresa would've been all over the car horn trying to speed up the guy in front!
That's one instance, but there are many more you experience here, which make you realise how 'correct' people are over here. Just to mention a few:
- People actually wait for a green light before crossing the road. Even if the nearest car is further away that peace in the middle east. I jay-walked once and almost felt like apologising to everyone.
- Nobody shouts here. I don't recall anyone shouting out loud on the street. Maybe it is considered impolite. I should check that.
- People go out of the way for others, greet politely, help each other out, etc. Very refreshing!
People look different here. I mean different from Mozambicans. Duh! In Mozambique women tend to have a triangular shaped face with a pointy chin and sharp features. The men have more rounded faces. In Rwanda the men have sharper faces and in between all the not-so-tall locals, you often find the odd 1.85-1.95 meter tall guy. As if they dropped a whole bunch of Masai in this city. The women have rounder softer features, and a more oval shaped face and there are three hairstyles for women: the traditional short afro, the straightened (ironed) hair and then there's the most popular pulled back braids style. Actually, a lot of women here look like Brigitte. For you non-Rabo readers: Brigitte is a Rwandese colleague who, as I now realise, has a typical Rwandese look. One difference though. She has more hairstyles than this entire country put together!
The language spoken here is the local Rwandese language Kinyarwanda which basically sounds like... ehh... an African language. I have mastered my first word, which is Urakoze which means 'thank you'. Apart from that I now know how to say good morning, goodbye and hello, but I don't dare writing these as my spelling will probably make Brigitte roll all over the office floor. The second language everyone knows is French (yeah, lucky me...Not!). However, due to the colonial past under the French speaking Belgians and the role the French played during the genocide, there's a strong governmentally promoted movement to switch to English as the second language. Basically, the government wants to push out the French language. Everywhere on the street you see people walking with English phrasebooks and Oxford dictionaries.Last weekend we also did a walk through town. First thing you find is a bunch of Forex stores. On the first street corner we hit there must've been some 15 of those. Basically it's an exchange store where you can exchange your Euros or dollars to local francs. No, not a bank outlet or anything official. Just a table, a cardboard billboard with handwritten rates on it and a bunch of guys running up to any foreigner that passes by. The local Rwandese franc (RWF) is worth about 0.00125 Euro cents, meaning that you get 800 of those for a Euro. And the largest denomination you see on the street is a 5.000 franc bill. This means that you walk around with quite some bills in your wallet. On the positive side, you hardly see coins.
The city centre is not that big. A few street and a bunch of small stores. All of them have hand painted signs and they sell basic needs. This is where you see that Rwanda is still a poor country. The streets are clean and the city-scaping looks quite modern, but the stores are very basic and no luxury items on sale. Even in poor Maputo you would find the odd Diesel outlet, a modern looking computer shop or a plasma TV in the store window. However, there is one brand new mall in the centre. It has some 20 stores, a supermarket and even a small food-court. There's also a coffee shop (no, not the Dutch kind) with wireless internet, that sells Starbucks style coffee. And like in Maputo, there are no American fast food franchises to be found. Yet! I guess if you want to become a millionaire, get that African Macky D, KFC or B King franchise license and introduce the finest food the US has to offer to this continent.Last Thursday a colleague and I went to the happy hour in Mille Collines ('Hotel Rwanda'). It was recommended by an ex-pat we met a few days before. First, it was quite strange to walk in this place you kind'a know from a very impressive and emotional movie. The hotel actually doesn't look like the one in the movie (which was shot in South Africa), but I still felt some jitters. Nowadays, the place is not that great. It's a straight forward 3-4 star hotel, with little facilities. But the main reason the place is a bit shabby, is the large number of working girls waiting for the guests in the bar every evening. Someone mentioned yesterday that the place has a new nickname: the Mille V*gines (I apologise to all readers under 18. I should've mentioned that you should read this under parental supervision only).
The happy hour itself was okay. The 'hostesses' were not out yet and there was a band playing covers ranging from Dolly Parton to Beyoncé to Bon Jovi. Musical tastes so far are a bit strange here. Especially when it comes to non-African music. Yesterday I sat in a colleague's car and his entire collection of cassettes (for those of you under 20, that's a piece of plastic the size of your iPod which holds no less than 10 songs. On each side!) covered only American Country & Western (!?). Now that is surreal! driving on a dirt road in between small shacks, smack in the middle of dark Africa, listening to Garth Brooks...
Sunday, 2 March 2008
Back in da Mothalan
The title comes from my African-American buddies (yes, I can be PC) who refer to this continent as the Motherland. I just kind'a spelled it a bit slangish. But what it really means is that I am back in Africa. I guess, as scientist currently believe that this is the start of human civilisation, it is my motherland too!
So since last Thursday I am in Kigali. For those of you who care more about my suitcase than about me, it arrived with me! That's twice in a row now! I'm on a roll! The flight itself was uneventful. The e-ticket promised a Boeing 777, meaning on demand in-flight entertainment even in cattle class, but it turned out to be an old 767 with just a single movie on a black & white projector screen. And they played the same silly Michael Douglas flick I had seen the week before, while returning from the Big Apple. How tough can one's life be?!?
Well, there I was on Kigali airport hugging my suitcase. First action: get a cab to the hotel. Already here the first differences with Mozambique became very apparent (obviously, I tend to compare Rwanda with Mozambique). The taxi was actually a real car! One from this century! And the roads? Excellent! Maputo's roads are a challenge, even for NASA's Mars explorer, but Kigali has well paved roads, with sidewalks, functioning traffic lights, road signs and people that actually drive decently. And this country is supposed to be poorer that Moz!
And apart from taxi's, also here you will find the mini-buses. The big difference here is that they actually stick to the maximum number of people that legally fit in that thing. Next to mini buses, the road is also full of moto-taxi's. Those are motorcycles with a driver wearing a green helmet and jacket. His cell number is splashed all over his helmet. You can stop one, jump on the back, put on the spare helmet and he'll take you wherever you want (or need) to be. However, I strongly recommend to review your travel insurance, medical insurance and testament before hopping on one of these. You might want to make sure that you paid the premium for the first two and included my name in the latter...
Kigali is a very hilly city. Or actually, Rwanda is a very hilly country. The country's nickname is Le Pays des Mille Collines, the land of the thousand hills. This makes the city quite beautiful. The city is splashed over 6 hills or so and is situated some 1.500 meters above sea-level, so there's a great view from almost anywhere! Ever wanted an affordable place with a mountain view and a great panorama? Come and buy a shack here! Land prices are still ridiculously low.
Talking about that nickname: Right in front of the bank is a hotel called Mille Collines. However, most of you actually already know this hotel... from a movie.... yes! Hotel Rwanda! The actual hotel is right in front of us. Quite strange to see it if you've seen the movie. It is currently again a fully operational 4-star place.
My hotel (Serena) is nice. Well actually, it's a luxury hotel. Probably the most luxurious (and most expensive) in town. However, I do intend to switch hotels as the Novotel has a better atmosphere, food, price, gym, on-site shops and nearby restaurants.
Wow! I have so many first impressions, I think I need to write a few additional blog entries this week. Well, the first week is always the most impressionable. Especially if on day 2 you already get invited as a VIP to an African Champions League match. That story will follow soon! It was a blast!
Getting back to comparing. Overall there are actually not that many similarities with Maputo. Yes, you see things here you would also see in Maputo, but life-style, people, food, atmosphere, scenery, city scaping, land scaping, climate and almost everything else is different. I hope to find enough time to write about these in the coming 6 weeks. But for now, I need to end this article as my colleague is downstairs waiting for me. Chow time!
So since last Thursday I am in Kigali. For those of you who care more about my suitcase than about me, it arrived with me! That's twice in a row now! I'm on a roll! The flight itself was uneventful. The e-ticket promised a Boeing 777, meaning on demand in-flight entertainment even in cattle class, but it turned out to be an old 767 with just a single movie on a black & white projector screen. And they played the same silly Michael Douglas flick I had seen the week before, while returning from the Big Apple. How tough can one's life be?!?
Well, there I was on Kigali airport hugging my suitcase. First action: get a cab to the hotel. Already here the first differences with Mozambique became very apparent (obviously, I tend to compare Rwanda with Mozambique). The taxi was actually a real car! One from this century! And the roads? Excellent! Maputo's roads are a challenge, even for NASA's Mars explorer, but Kigali has well paved roads, with sidewalks, functioning traffic lights, road signs and people that actually drive decently. And this country is supposed to be poorer that Moz!
And apart from taxi's, also here you will find the mini-buses. The big difference here is that they actually stick to the maximum number of people that legally fit in that thing. Next to mini buses, the road is also full of moto-taxi's. Those are motorcycles with a driver wearing a green helmet and jacket. His cell number is splashed all over his helmet. You can stop one, jump on the back, put on the spare helmet and he'll take you wherever you want (or need) to be. However, I strongly recommend to review your travel insurance, medical insurance and testament before hopping on one of these. You might want to make sure that you paid the premium for the first two and included my name in the latter...Kigali is a very hilly city. Or actually, Rwanda is a very hilly country. The country's nickname is Le Pays des Mille Collines, the land of the thousand hills. This makes the city quite beautiful. The city is splashed over 6 hills or so and is situated some 1.500 meters above sea-level, so there's a great view from almost anywhere! Ever wanted an affordable place with a mountain view and a great panorama? Come and buy a shack here! Land prices are still ridiculously low.
Talking about that nickname: Right in front of the bank is a hotel called Mille Collines. However, most of you actually already know this hotel... from a movie.... yes! Hotel Rwanda! The actual hotel is right in front of us. Quite strange to see it if you've seen the movie. It is currently again a fully operational 4-star place.My hotel (Serena) is nice. Well actually, it's a luxury hotel. Probably the most luxurious (and most expensive) in town. However, I do intend to switch hotels as the Novotel has a better atmosphere, food, price, gym, on-site shops and nearby restaurants.
Wow! I have so many first impressions, I think I need to write a few additional blog entries this week. Well, the first week is always the most impressionable. Especially if on day 2 you already get invited as a VIP to an African Champions League match. That story will follow soon! It was a blast!
Getting back to comparing. Overall there are actually not that many similarities with Maputo. Yes, you see things here you would also see in Maputo, but life-style, people, food, atmosphere, scenery, city scaping, land scaping, climate and almost everything else is different. I hope to find enough time to write about these in the coming 6 weeks. But for now, I need to end this article as my colleague is downstairs waiting for me. Chow time!
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Potpouri
Currently I'm in the Johannesburg airport lounge and have some 6 hours waiting ahead of me. It's now 18:00 hrs and my KLM flight isn't until midnight. This is my last trip back home after 7 months of Maputo. I guess that will also mean the end of this blog (assuming I don't lose my suitcase again, which requires me to write another entry tomorrow. Or just copy a previous one).
This entry is a collection of short stories and impressions I had collected earlier, but hadn't yet told you about. It's quite a long post.
Thieves
The local thieves are lazy! I mean, really lazy! Here they steal your car radio like in any other country. But they don't run away! Running costs too much energy. No, they just sit there waiting for you and by the time you return to your car, they come up to you and explain how they saw some guy stealing your car radio. Luckily for you, they were there and were able to stop the thief! Like some sort of superhero! Maputo Man! Of course, all this heroism comes at a price. And no, not cheaply, because superheroes need expensive clothing and gadgets. Hey! Batman was a millionaire too!
It is now rainy season, which makes these thieves a.k.a. superheroes even lazier. Now, instead of stealing your car radio, they just take your wipers. I guess that is good news, since it saves you the hassle of replacing a broken window. Thank you Maputo Man! As there's no way you can drive through a rain storm without window wipers, so you're even more 'forced' to buy something which is yours to start with! It is for this reason that you see local business men park their cars at work, take the wipers off and walk with these to their office. T.I.A.!
Presidential Transportation
Here the president and the prime minister are driven around, as is the case in any country. Obviously some security is required. Yeah, some! Whenever they go anywhere there's an entire motorcade of police motorcycles, cars with sirens, flashing lights and dark windows. Seriously, if JFK had this entourage, the CIA... ehhh.... Lee Harvey Oswald would've had no chance to shoot him. He would've been blinded by the lights nd deafened by the sirens.
The funny bit is also that the prime minister actually lives across the street from the president, but she still requires the entire parade to go for a work visit. Even though each morning she goes out for a morning jog with just one security guard.
Fish Market
One of the best places to eat is the local fish market, the Mercado da Peixe. It is what you kind'a expect at an African fish market. It is not that big, the stands look like they'll collapse any second and the fish just lie there and stare at you with their big seductive eyes. Behind the stands there will be a few women looking bored while waving the flies off their merchandise.
Apart from the fish you can get - what else? - shrimp! All kinds of shrimp. Big shrimp, even bigger shrimp, tiger prawns, langostinas and lobster! And all fresh as can be. Not the Dutch kind, where shrimp - caught a year ago, then deep frozen, shipped to Morocco to be peeled there, frozen again, returned - is then sold to the supermarket as fresh. No, these shrimp are so fresh, some of them are still looking for Nemo.
The bored women all of a sudden jump alive when you enter the market. The screaming and shouting starts. Fresh shrimp! Cheap fish! Buy mine! Great Price! Get your lobster here! You wander around and then start haggling. It is a big ridiculous if you consider that you're actually haggling to get the price of one kilo of tiger prawns from 10 to 7 euros (yep, you read that right. No typo). After that you pick up two 750 gram live lobsters for 8 euros and head off to the back of the market.
There is a large open space with many tables, surrounded by small brick buildings which function as kitchens. You sit at a table - obviously not before an army of waiters has tried to convince you to sit at theirs - and hand over your just acquired merchandise. You ask them to grill it over an open fire and add some fries, rice, salad and a few nice cold 2/M beers. The rest of the afternoon you just relax with your company and enjoy the best freshly BBQ-ed shrimp and lobster. What a feast!
Job Hunting
Everybody here is job hunting. Doesn't even matter whether they are unemployed, studying or already have one or more jobs. There's always more money at the other side of the fence. You see? It is not about a huge willingness to work or big ambitions. It is mostly about getting more cash. People stop you anywhere and ask you if you have open positions at your company. The funny bit is that they have no clue what company you work for or which industry for that matter. And I'm not talking unemployed people looking for a low level position. No, guys in business suits. Accountants, bookkeepers, etc. Also at the bank so far, more people have come by to drop CV's than actual company visitors. I've had CV's given to me by people in bars, restaurants, the waiter and the receptionist at the hotel.
I'm not trying to put the local work force down, but there is also a large difference in work attitude here compared to the previous 3 countries I've worked in. Work here is a thing you have to show up at in order to get money at the end of the week or month. If you can show up somewhere else and get more for it... then go for it! It really doesn't matter whether you just started the previous job.
And if there's a chance to take more than you deserve, do so! There's no shame. So basically every empregada (housekeeper) takes food from their employers for use at home or returns from the supermarket without handing back the change. Banks have three times as many checks and balances in place to make sure the staff doesn't skim a bit left and right, store owners don't allow staff to touch the cashiers and police officers hardly write out tickets but still cash in a lot. And most of the times it is not even their jurisdiction. I know, I am generalising a lot. There are good guys out there and some of this skimming is also because people here can be hugely underpaid. This is meant to be descriptive, not judgemental.
Phone Fraud
One evening in the very beginning, me and a colleague staying in the same hotel, had just returned from dinner and decided to have a drink in the hotel bar. When we got there, there was a lady sitting at a table with champagne glasses and a nice 200 dollar bottle in the cooler awaiting her other guests. At least, so we thought. Two hours passed and she was still there. Alone, drinking a glass of tonic and sitting at a table with the champagne bottle and glasses.
She starting looking around more nervously and all of a sudden burst out crying. The bartender immediately ran over to her to check what was going on. It turns out that she was there for some celebration where she would be handed over the keys to a brand new home she had just won. Or so she thought...
She was basically a victim of some fraud. It starts with an text message which congratulates you with the unique chance of winning something. It's actually guaranteed. You just need to call or text a number and your prize will be on its way. I get these messages regularly, but obviously ignore these. Well, not everybody does. She had spent well over 100 US dollars (which is a fortune for her) while being led to believe that she won a house. A real house! She was even sent to some construction site to admire 'her' home.
Now she was told to go to the Polana Hotel (yep, the most expensive) and wait in the bar for the press and the president of the organisation to officially hand over the keys to her new prize home. She was even told to make sure the champagne was ready. Now x hours later she started realising that she was a victim of fraud and she even couldn't afford the two tonics she just had in the bar. She was too decent to just get up and walk away and started crying out of ander and sadness. What a sad story. Fraud is one thing, but doing this champagne thing is just mean. Deep down inhumanly mean! There's nothing the frauds would gain from that, so why humiliate someone like that?
Swaziland
Did you know that I actually went to Swaziland? I know, I never wrote about it, but then again, I spent the total time of 24 minutes there. And of these 24 minutes, 23 were spent in a line. The immigration line of course! Immigration laws are very strict here. My business visa issued in Brussels is valid for 180 days, but I can only stay in the country for a period of 30 days in a row. Why? I do not know, but there must be a good reason for that. There must be some sort of security measure behind this. Maybe some anti-terrorism act?
It's actually quite similar in many countries. Most countries allow tourists to stay for 180 days, but only 90 in a row. After that you should leave the country for a pre-defined number of hours. Often 72 hours. A lot of backpackers or "immigrants" staying on a tourist visa have experience with this. What they usually do is plan a short holiday (i.e. a long weekend) out of town. Here it is similar. The only difference is you do not have to stay out of the country for 72 hours, but 72 seconds is enough (if only those lines were not so long). That's it! So that's exactly what I did. I drove for an hour to the Swazi border, parked the car just before this border (so I didn't have to export and import it), crossed the border on foot, turned around, crossed it again, got my stamp and drove back for an hour. I enjoyed every second of Swaziland! All 3 of 'em!
Well, that's it then! The end of the blog! (please, please, please, let my suitcase arrive in Amsterdam tomorrow). I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I did a similar thing in 2004 during my Olympic Volunteer experience and later on realised that I still read that blog once a year. Just to remind myself of what I experienced. I guess years from now, I'll still be the one regular reader of this one.
Abraços e Beijos!
This entry is a collection of short stories and impressions I had collected earlier, but hadn't yet told you about. It's quite a long post.
Thieves
The local thieves are lazy! I mean, really lazy! Here they steal your car radio like in any other country. But they don't run away! Running costs too much energy. No, they just sit there waiting for you and by the time you return to your car, they come up to you and explain how they saw some guy stealing your car radio. Luckily for you, they were there and were able to stop the thief! Like some sort of superhero! Maputo Man! Of course, all this heroism comes at a price. And no, not cheaply, because superheroes need expensive clothing and gadgets. Hey! Batman was a millionaire too!
It is now rainy season, which makes these thieves a.k.a. superheroes even lazier. Now, instead of stealing your car radio, they just take your wipers. I guess that is good news, since it saves you the hassle of replacing a broken window. Thank you Maputo Man! As there's no way you can drive through a rain storm without window wipers, so you're even more 'forced' to buy something which is yours to start with! It is for this reason that you see local business men park their cars at work, take the wipers off and walk with these to their office. T.I.A.!
Presidential Transportation
Here the president and the prime minister are driven around, as is the case in any country. Obviously some security is required. Yeah, some! Whenever they go anywhere there's an entire motorcade of police motorcycles, cars with sirens, flashing lights and dark windows. Seriously, if JFK had this entourage, the CIA... ehhh.... Lee Harvey Oswald would've had no chance to shoot him. He would've been blinded by the lights nd deafened by the sirens.
The funny bit is also that the prime minister actually lives across the street from the president, but she still requires the entire parade to go for a work visit. Even though each morning she goes out for a morning jog with just one security guard.
Fish MarketOne of the best places to eat is the local fish market, the Mercado da Peixe. It is what you kind'a expect at an African fish market. It is not that big, the stands look like they'll collapse any second and the fish just lie there and stare at you with their big seductive eyes. Behind the stands there will be a few women looking bored while waving the flies off their merchandise.
Apart from the fish you can get - what else? - shrimp! All kinds of shrimp. Big shrimp, even bigger shrimp, tiger prawns, langostinas and lobster! And all fresh as can be. Not the Dutch kind, where shrimp - caught a year ago, then deep frozen, shipped to Morocco to be peeled there, frozen again, returned - is then sold to the supermarket as fresh. No, these shrimp are so fresh, some of them are still looking for Nemo.
The bored women all of a sudden jump alive when you enter the market. The screaming and shouting starts. Fresh shrimp! Cheap fish! Buy mine! Great Price! Get your lobster here! You wander around and then start haggling. It is a big ridiculous if you consider that you're actually haggling to get the price of one kilo of tiger prawns from 10 to 7 euros (yep, you read that right. No typo). After that you pick up two 750 gram live lobsters for 8 euros and head off to the back of the market.
There is a large open space with many tables, surrounded by small brick buildings which function as kitchens. You sit at a table - obviously not before an army of waiters has tried to convince you to sit at theirs - and hand over your just acquired merchandise. You ask them to grill it over an open fire and add some fries, rice, salad and a few nice cold 2/M beers. The rest of the afternoon you just relax with your company and enjoy the best freshly BBQ-ed shrimp and lobster. What a feast!
Job Hunting
Everybody here is job hunting. Doesn't even matter whether they are unemployed, studying or already have one or more jobs. There's always more money at the other side of the fence. You see? It is not about a huge willingness to work or big ambitions. It is mostly about getting more cash. People stop you anywhere and ask you if you have open positions at your company. The funny bit is that they have no clue what company you work for or which industry for that matter. And I'm not talking unemployed people looking for a low level position. No, guys in business suits. Accountants, bookkeepers, etc. Also at the bank so far, more people have come by to drop CV's than actual company visitors. I've had CV's given to me by people in bars, restaurants, the waiter and the receptionist at the hotel.
I'm not trying to put the local work force down, but there is also a large difference in work attitude here compared to the previous 3 countries I've worked in. Work here is a thing you have to show up at in order to get money at the end of the week or month. If you can show up somewhere else and get more for it... then go for it! It really doesn't matter whether you just started the previous job.
And if there's a chance to take more than you deserve, do so! There's no shame. So basically every empregada (housekeeper) takes food from their employers for use at home or returns from the supermarket without handing back the change. Banks have three times as many checks and balances in place to make sure the staff doesn't skim a bit left and right, store owners don't allow staff to touch the cashiers and police officers hardly write out tickets but still cash in a lot. And most of the times it is not even their jurisdiction. I know, I am generalising a lot. There are good guys out there and some of this skimming is also because people here can be hugely underpaid. This is meant to be descriptive, not judgemental.
Phone Fraud
One evening in the very beginning, me and a colleague staying in the same hotel, had just returned from dinner and decided to have a drink in the hotel bar. When we got there, there was a lady sitting at a table with champagne glasses and a nice 200 dollar bottle in the cooler awaiting her other guests. At least, so we thought. Two hours passed and she was still there. Alone, drinking a glass of tonic and sitting at a table with the champagne bottle and glasses.
She starting looking around more nervously and all of a sudden burst out crying. The bartender immediately ran over to her to check what was going on. It turns out that she was there for some celebration where she would be handed over the keys to a brand new home she had just won. Or so she thought...
She was basically a victim of some fraud. It starts with an text message which congratulates you with the unique chance of winning something. It's actually guaranteed. You just need to call or text a number and your prize will be on its way. I get these messages regularly, but obviously ignore these. Well, not everybody does. She had spent well over 100 US dollars (which is a fortune for her) while being led to believe that she won a house. A real house! She was even sent to some construction site to admire 'her' home.
Now she was told to go to the Polana Hotel (yep, the most expensive) and wait in the bar for the press and the president of the organisation to officially hand over the keys to her new prize home. She was even told to make sure the champagne was ready. Now x hours later she started realising that she was a victim of fraud and she even couldn't afford the two tonics she just had in the bar. She was too decent to just get up and walk away and started crying out of ander and sadness. What a sad story. Fraud is one thing, but doing this champagne thing is just mean. Deep down inhumanly mean! There's nothing the frauds would gain from that, so why humiliate someone like that?
Swaziland
Did you know that I actually went to Swaziland? I know, I never wrote about it, but then again, I spent the total time of 24 minutes there. And of these 24 minutes, 23 were spent in a line. The immigration line of course! Immigration laws are very strict here. My business visa issued in Brussels is valid for 180 days, but I can only stay in the country for a period of 30 days in a row. Why? I do not know, but there must be a good reason for that. There must be some sort of security measure behind this. Maybe some anti-terrorism act?
It's actually quite similar in many countries. Most countries allow tourists to stay for 180 days, but only 90 in a row. After that you should leave the country for a pre-defined number of hours. Often 72 hours. A lot of backpackers or "immigrants" staying on a tourist visa have experience with this. What they usually do is plan a short holiday (i.e. a long weekend) out of town. Here it is similar. The only difference is you do not have to stay out of the country for 72 hours, but 72 seconds is enough (if only those lines were not so long). That's it! So that's exactly what I did. I drove for an hour to the Swazi border, parked the car just before this border (so I didn't have to export and import it), crossed the border on foot, turned around, crossed it again, got my stamp and drove back for an hour. I enjoyed every second of Swaziland! All 3 of 'em!
Well, that's it then! The end of the blog! (please, please, please, let my suitcase arrive in Amsterdam tomorrow). I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I did a similar thing in 2004 during my Olympic Volunteer experience and later on realised that I still read that blog once a year. Just to remind myself of what I experienced. I guess years from now, I'll still be the one regular reader of this one.
Abraços e Beijos!
Friday, 1 February 2008
From Dusk Till Dawn
As my time in Mozambique is nearing its end, I realise that I haven't done a single piece on Maputo's nightlife. Hence this item dedicated to the prowlers of the night and their hunting grounds.
Whenever anyone in this town starts about Maputo's nightlife there's one single word that is immediately uttered... Coconuts! Coconuts is the disco in town. actually it is not in town, but just outside of it long the beach. It is a large half open club which is mostly dance floor. People here don't mostly hang around to look at the few daredevils cramped on a small dance floor. Nope, people here dance! All night long!
Music is mainly African style hiphop, R&B with some dance tunes in between. Since my first time there in June until today the biggest floorfiller is still 'Rise Up' by Yves Larock. I absolutely cannot hear My dream is to fly...Over the rainbow...So high! again. The place is mainly filled with local people between 18 and 35, with some plucks of foreigners left and right.
Coconuts is not by itself as it is part of a complex that includes a restaurant, an outside swimming pool, some pool tables and Club Lounge. This is my personal favourite.You'll be shocked when you walk in there the first time. It looks like a proper trendy lounge and the DJ plays mostly underground house beats. For a second there you'll think you're in Amsterdam or New York. Not Maputo in Sub-Sahara Africa!
The place is more expensive than its neightbour and therefore attracts a slightly older crowd. Age here ranges from 25 to 40 and the number of foreigners is higher. It is the trendy place and all local hotties parade on the dance floor, possibly in search of a cute foreign boyfriend? Of course that rules me out...
Next to the Coconuts/Lounge complex is another large complex with a restaurant Meat & Co, the Polana Casino and the Zsa-Zsa bar dancing. This dancing is extremely middle of the road golden oldies. And that is not only the music, but also the people. Most women look like they attended the auditions for the popular eighties series the Golden Girls. Age there is 40+. This place makes Hofman look like kindergarten.
On Thursday the legendary place is the Africa Bar. This starts with life music around midnight which lasts until 01:30 am. Than the DJ takes over and the place really starts jumping. This is a pick-up place where mostly foreigners pick up local ladies. Friday being a workday means I haven't been there that much. I did last night with a bunch of colleagues after my farewell drinks at Mundo's.
Mundo's is the sportsbar here and right next to my hotel (photo by Astrid). It is where you watch a game, eat the best pizza in town and have a few alcoholic starters before hitting the real night life. It is also the only place where you'll find a reasonable lot of people on the weekdays.
On Sundays people hang out at Nucleo do Arte. It's more or less a house with a small art gallery, a small bar and an even smaller stage. It's actually not really a stage, but a 4 square meter space in between de window and the couch. I've seen bands with 5 members play there! The crowd is very artsy and studenty, with local boys with dreadlocks (which of course play some sort of drums) hitting on impressionable young white (mostly American) women wearing African wrap around dresses. You know the kind. "In touch with the local people"....
Then there is the live joint called Gil Vicente, which is right next to our bank. I already wrote extensively about that place back in July in an entry names 'Bourbon Street?'. Other party places include Sheik, Havana, Xima and Macaneta, but I have not frequented these. These are mostly places which play local danceable music in the style of Merengue and Salsa. Even though I am from the Caribbean, it is not really my thing.
Oh well, time for me to hit the night life. I'll start at Mundo's and then probably head off to Lounge. Given that the sun comes up quite early here, it'll be dawn by the time I get back to the hotel. Enjoy your evening. I know I will mine!
Whenever anyone in this town starts about Maputo's nightlife there's one single word that is immediately uttered... Coconuts! Coconuts is the disco in town. actually it is not in town, but just outside of it long the beach. It is a large half open club which is mostly dance floor. People here don't mostly hang around to look at the few daredevils cramped on a small dance floor. Nope, people here dance! All night long!
Music is mainly African style hiphop, R&B with some dance tunes in between. Since my first time there in June until today the biggest floorfiller is still 'Rise Up' by Yves Larock. I absolutely cannot hear My dream is to fly...Over the rainbow...So high! again. The place is mainly filled with local people between 18 and 35, with some plucks of foreigners left and right.
Coconuts is not by itself as it is part of a complex that includes a restaurant, an outside swimming pool, some pool tables and Club Lounge. This is my personal favourite.You'll be shocked when you walk in there the first time. It looks like a proper trendy lounge and the DJ plays mostly underground house beats. For a second there you'll think you're in Amsterdam or New York. Not Maputo in Sub-Sahara Africa!
The place is more expensive than its neightbour and therefore attracts a slightly older crowd. Age here ranges from 25 to 40 and the number of foreigners is higher. It is the trendy place and all local hotties parade on the dance floor, possibly in search of a cute foreign boyfriend? Of course that rules me out...
Next to the Coconuts/Lounge complex is another large complex with a restaurant Meat & Co, the Polana Casino and the Zsa-Zsa bar dancing. This dancing is extremely middle of the road golden oldies. And that is not only the music, but also the people. Most women look like they attended the auditions for the popular eighties series the Golden Girls. Age there is 40+. This place makes Hofman look like kindergarten.
On Thursday the legendary place is the Africa Bar. This starts with life music around midnight which lasts until 01:30 am. Than the DJ takes over and the place really starts jumping. This is a pick-up place where mostly foreigners pick up local ladies. Friday being a workday means I haven't been there that much. I did last night with a bunch of colleagues after my farewell drinks at Mundo's.
Mundo's is the sportsbar here and right next to my hotel (photo by Astrid). It is where you watch a game, eat the best pizza in town and have a few alcoholic starters before hitting the real night life. It is also the only place where you'll find a reasonable lot of people on the weekdays.On Sundays people hang out at Nucleo do Arte. It's more or less a house with a small art gallery, a small bar and an even smaller stage. It's actually not really a stage, but a 4 square meter space in between de window and the couch. I've seen bands with 5 members play there! The crowd is very artsy and studenty, with local boys with dreadlocks (which of course play some sort of drums) hitting on impressionable young white (mostly American) women wearing African wrap around dresses. You know the kind. "In touch with the local people"....
Then there is the live joint called Gil Vicente, which is right next to our bank. I already wrote extensively about that place back in July in an entry names 'Bourbon Street?'. Other party places include Sheik, Havana, Xima and Macaneta, but I have not frequented these. These are mostly places which play local danceable music in the style of Merengue and Salsa. Even though I am from the Caribbean, it is not really my thing.
Oh well, time for me to hit the night life. I'll start at Mundo's and then probably head off to Lounge. Given that the sun comes up quite early here, it'll be dawn by the time I get back to the hotel. Enjoy your evening. I know I will mine!
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
Crash!
We interrupt this fascinating debate between Oprahbama and Billary on the subject of "Who's Johnny?" to bring you some breaking news.
This just in! According to our normally quite reliable sources there was a major accident which occured last Saturday morning. In the very early morning. Or was it very late Friday night?
Witnesses on the scene saw the white male victim flee the scene of the accident. He was described as tall, bald, extremely handsome with a great body! If you see this man, and you are a cute funny intelligent single woman, please call him!
According to a police report the incident occured when this subject entered a cab at the infamous Coconuts. The cab was randomly picked from a bunch of screaming, begging, pulling and pushing cab drivers. A bit like the middle-aged women in the front row of a Tom Jones concert.
The victim - not suspecting anything - got in the car and instructed the cabbie to take him to his hotel. The driver obeyed and took off. As he was speeding up on the Marginal (a long straight road along the coast line), the passenger relaxed and looked around him as if he longed for yet another drink.
All of sudden it happened! Loud screetching tires and as the white male was launched forward he grabbed the seat in front of him and looked up at what was going on. His cab was still on the road, trying to brake as a red pickup truck came out of nowhere and crossed the street in the direction of the beach.
Where this truck came from and why it was heading that way is still a mistery. Maybe he lost control, fell asleep or was doing some midnight off road racing in the bushes...
Whatever! The taxi could not stop in time and hit this truck hard on the side. The cab passenger saw the hood of the car double up right in front of him as at the same time a car - coming from behind too fast to stop or avoid the scene - hit the taxi right behind the victims seat. This set the taxi off in a 270 degree spin.
Finally when all the dust was settled, the passenger checked himself and noticed that he was okay. The cab driver was a less pretty sight as he was bleeding like crazy from his forehead. Must've hit the steering wheel. However, he acknowledged that otherwise he felt fine.
Both got out of the car and so did the drivers of the other two vehicles involved in the crash. Our hero (the passenger) looked at the taxi and only now realised that he had been really lucky. Really really lucky! The engine block was diminished to half its size. That cab had had its last passenger. The official legal term being "total loss".
The red pickup driver was fine (of course! He had the truck) and so was the guy that hit the cab from behind. This last guy was furious! He was screaming and shouting at the pickup driver saying he would call the police. Funny thing of course is, that since he hit the taxi from behind, he is responsible for his own collision. Should've kept his distance.
The truck driver was very appologetic towards the cabbie and suggested to 'arrange' everything without police intervention. The furious guy got even more angry and in the meanwhile a curious crowd was gathering around.
This is when our male subject (yes, the handsome one!) decided that it was too late (04:30 am), too dark, too crowdy and he was way too visible to hang around much longer. He checked his vitals one more time and walked away from the crime scene.
The taxi guy got nervous and followed him saying that he couldn't leave as he was required to act as a witness. A witness to what? To testify that he was dozing off in the back before being rudely awaken by a car crash? (and that is a rude awakening, I can assure you).
He decided not to hang around waiting for possibly 2 hours before police had done all they needed to do, just to provide a statement which wouldn't be helpful at all. The physical evidence was more than obvious.
5 minutes later he was last seen speeding away in yet another cab. Destination unknown....
PS: Oh well, that was one adventure I do not necessarily need to experience again. Yes, I got really lucky, considering the damage, the way it could've ended up and the fact that I was in the back without seat belt. Before you start, most cars do not have seat belts in the back and most front belts don't function either... All in all, everything is fine. Not even some neck muscle pains. I even slept like a baby.
This just in! According to our normally quite reliable sources there was a major accident which occured last Saturday morning. In the very early morning. Or was it very late Friday night?
Witnesses on the scene saw the white male victim flee the scene of the accident. He was described as tall, bald, extremely handsome with a great body! If you see this man, and you are a cute funny intelligent single woman, please call him!
According to a police report the incident occured when this subject entered a cab at the infamous Coconuts. The cab was randomly picked from a bunch of screaming, begging, pulling and pushing cab drivers. A bit like the middle-aged women in the front row of a Tom Jones concert.
The victim - not suspecting anything - got in the car and instructed the cabbie to take him to his hotel. The driver obeyed and took off. As he was speeding up on the Marginal (a long straight road along the coast line), the passenger relaxed and looked around him as if he longed for yet another drink.
All of sudden it happened! Loud screetching tires and as the white male was launched forward he grabbed the seat in front of him and looked up at what was going on. His cab was still on the road, trying to brake as a red pickup truck came out of nowhere and crossed the street in the direction of the beach.
Where this truck came from and why it was heading that way is still a mistery. Maybe he lost control, fell asleep or was doing some midnight off road racing in the bushes...
Whatever! The taxi could not stop in time and hit this truck hard on the side. The cab passenger saw the hood of the car double up right in front of him as at the same time a car - coming from behind too fast to stop or avoid the scene - hit the taxi right behind the victims seat. This set the taxi off in a 270 degree spin.
Finally when all the dust was settled, the passenger checked himself and noticed that he was okay. The cab driver was a less pretty sight as he was bleeding like crazy from his forehead. Must've hit the steering wheel. However, he acknowledged that otherwise he felt fine.
Both got out of the car and so did the drivers of the other two vehicles involved in the crash. Our hero (the passenger) looked at the taxi and only now realised that he had been really lucky. Really really lucky! The engine block was diminished to half its size. That cab had had its last passenger. The official legal term being "total loss".
The red pickup driver was fine (of course! He had the truck) and so was the guy that hit the cab from behind. This last guy was furious! He was screaming and shouting at the pickup driver saying he would call the police. Funny thing of course is, that since he hit the taxi from behind, he is responsible for his own collision. Should've kept his distance.
The truck driver was very appologetic towards the cabbie and suggested to 'arrange' everything without police intervention. The furious guy got even more angry and in the meanwhile a curious crowd was gathering around.
This is when our male subject (yes, the handsome one!) decided that it was too late (04:30 am), too dark, too crowdy and he was way too visible to hang around much longer. He checked his vitals one more time and walked away from the crime scene.
The taxi guy got nervous and followed him saying that he couldn't leave as he was required to act as a witness. A witness to what? To testify that he was dozing off in the back before being rudely awaken by a car crash? (and that is a rude awakening, I can assure you).
He decided not to hang around waiting for possibly 2 hours before police had done all they needed to do, just to provide a statement which wouldn't be helpful at all. The physical evidence was more than obvious.
5 minutes later he was last seen speeding away in yet another cab. Destination unknown....
PS: Oh well, that was one adventure I do not necessarily need to experience again. Yes, I got really lucky, considering the damage, the way it could've ended up and the fact that I was in the back without seat belt. Before you start, most cars do not have seat belts in the back and most front belts don't function either... All in all, everything is fine. Not even some neck muscle pains. I even slept like a baby.
Saturday, 19 January 2008
Guess Who's Back!
Oh boy, back in Maputo after having spent 5 days in Holland, 2 weeks in Curaçao and another 4 days in Holland over the holiday period. Well, the last post was on Cape Town and quite a bit happened since then.
The 2 weeks after Cape Town were mostly focused on preparing to move office. I spent enormous amounts of time preparing the infrastructure before the move and actually preparing the building. Nothing happens here as planned. Absolutely nothing! You kind of know this, especially after being here a while, but you haven't seen it all until you've seen and managed construction in this city.
These workers are the funniest There's absolutely no thinking about consequences of actions. The electricians just cut off the electricity in the middle of the day, just when everybody is working on things which require electricity. "Oh, we're just testing the generator". Anyone ever consider checking if people were working?
Or the guys that took out the ceiling of the toilets without bothering to check if anyone was in there. Ever seen a terrified woman rush out the toilet with her pants on her ankles? I have now...
And everybody you call to fix or install something for some reason always has to come first to look at everything before even considering actually doing the job. That requires another appointment which they won't keep anyway. You cannot imagine how many calls and appointment I made with the cable company just to terminate the cable. for you non-techies out there, that is putting the plug on the end of the cable.
Oh well, you get used to things I guess. Well, not really. I do not get used to it, but do take it into account when planning. Call it: environmental influences.
Curaçao was great! The main reason for me to go there was my cousin Julian's wedding. And since he got married on the 22nd (coincidently my dads b-day), I added Xmas and New years to the menu. I never regretted that!
The wedding was beautiful. Actually, don't they always say that? Like funerals. People always say: the service was beautiful. I'm waiting for the first to say: that funeral was horrible! The speeches were off topic, the coffee lame, the cake tasted like dirt, the DJ sucked and the host was quite...ehhh....stiff! How funny would that be?
Oh well, the wedding service was nice and the bride looked like she would never stop smiling. My main 'role' was taking pictures and I took many. Most of these can be seen on this website.
After the wedding it was time to party. And the island can party! Especially with New Years! A typical thing unique for Curaçao is what we call Pagara Parties. A pagara party is usually organised by a company (bank, lawfirm, consultancy, supermarket, etc.) or a restaurant/bar and takes places on their parking lot and the street in front of it.
Usually there is a band and a DJ that warms up the crowd and there lots of booze. And everyone can attend. These parties are often advertised on radio and newspapers. You party for about one to two hours and then the host starts the fireworks show. If the party is during the day, the fireworks would be one really long 'carpet' of klapchi (the exploding noisy stuff). The longer your carpet, the more impressed everyone is. People can refer to your record breaking carpet in admiration for years afterwards.
If it is at night, the show would like contain more sky-based fireworks. These pagara parties start about a full week before new years and the number of parties per day increase as new years comes closer. The last three days of a year you can spent completely drunk and deaf moving from party to party.
Two years ago I read in a Dutch newspaper that the same amount of fireworks is sold in Curaçao compared to Holland. The amazing part of this fact was that it referred to absolute numbers! 130.000 people buy the same amount as 16 million people with higher average incomes!!! Yes, it is a waste of money, bad for the environment, unfriendly towards pets, but it is sooooooooooo much fun!!! (PS: Picture of pagara is courtesy of Charlton)
After Curaçao and a bit of Holland is was time to go back to Maputo. And guess what? No, really! Guess! Yep, you are again right! I lost my suitcase!!! This time it was on my Johannesburg-Maputo flight. A simple one hour flight! I checked it in at 08:00 am at JBG airport and 90 minutes later the captain of my South African Airways flight announced that they lost 55 pieces of luggage and he was ordered to leave for Maputo anyway.
This time I got it back 24 hours later, but it had been forced open and all valuable items were taken out of it. Including my pocket camera and a brand new watch! I don't know what it is with this continent. I experienced over 400 flights and lost my suitcase only once! On a KLM flight from Amsterdam to Curaçao. I do 5 flights involving Africa and lose it 3 times!
I got only three letters for this: T.I.A.
The 2 weeks after Cape Town were mostly focused on preparing to move office. I spent enormous amounts of time preparing the infrastructure before the move and actually preparing the building. Nothing happens here as planned. Absolutely nothing! You kind of know this, especially after being here a while, but you haven't seen it all until you've seen and managed construction in this city.
These workers are the funniest There's absolutely no thinking about consequences of actions. The electricians just cut off the electricity in the middle of the day, just when everybody is working on things which require electricity. "Oh, we're just testing the generator". Anyone ever consider checking if people were working?
Or the guys that took out the ceiling of the toilets without bothering to check if anyone was in there. Ever seen a terrified woman rush out the toilet with her pants on her ankles? I have now...
And everybody you call to fix or install something for some reason always has to come first to look at everything before even considering actually doing the job. That requires another appointment which they won't keep anyway. You cannot imagine how many calls and appointment I made with the cable company just to terminate the cable. for you non-techies out there, that is putting the plug on the end of the cable.
Oh well, you get used to things I guess. Well, not really. I do not get used to it, but do take it into account when planning. Call it: environmental influences.
Curaçao was great! The main reason for me to go there was my cousin Julian's wedding. And since he got married on the 22nd (coincidently my dads b-day), I added Xmas and New years to the menu. I never regretted that!
The wedding was beautiful. Actually, don't they always say that? Like funerals. People always say: the service was beautiful. I'm waiting for the first to say: that funeral was horrible! The speeches were off topic, the coffee lame, the cake tasted like dirt, the DJ sucked and the host was quite...ehhh....stiff! How funny would that be?Oh well, the wedding service was nice and the bride looked like she would never stop smiling. My main 'role' was taking pictures and I took many. Most of these can be seen on this website.
After the wedding it was time to party. And the island can party! Especially with New Years! A typical thing unique for Curaçao is what we call Pagara Parties. A pagara party is usually organised by a company (bank, lawfirm, consultancy, supermarket, etc.) or a restaurant/bar and takes places on their parking lot and the street in front of it.
Usually there is a band and a DJ that warms up the crowd and there lots of booze. And everyone can attend. These parties are often advertised on radio and newspapers. You party for about one to two hours and then the host starts the fireworks show. If the party is during the day, the fireworks would be one really long 'carpet' of klapchi (the exploding noisy stuff). The longer your carpet, the more impressed everyone is. People can refer to your record breaking carpet in admiration for years afterwards.
If it is at night, the show would like contain more sky-based fireworks. These pagara parties start about a full week before new years and the number of parties per day increase as new years comes closer. The last three days of a year you can spent completely drunk and deaf moving from party to party.Two years ago I read in a Dutch newspaper that the same amount of fireworks is sold in Curaçao compared to Holland. The amazing part of this fact was that it referred to absolute numbers! 130.000 people buy the same amount as 16 million people with higher average incomes!!! Yes, it is a waste of money, bad for the environment, unfriendly towards pets, but it is sooooooooooo much fun!!! (PS: Picture of pagara is courtesy of Charlton)
After Curaçao and a bit of Holland is was time to go back to Maputo. And guess what? No, really! Guess! Yep, you are again right! I lost my suitcase!!! This time it was on my Johannesburg-Maputo flight. A simple one hour flight! I checked it in at 08:00 am at JBG airport and 90 minutes later the captain of my South African Airways flight announced that they lost 55 pieces of luggage and he was ordered to leave for Maputo anyway.
This time I got it back 24 hours later, but it had been forced open and all valuable items were taken out of it. Including my pocket camera and a brand new watch! I don't know what it is with this continent. I experienced over 400 flights and lost my suitcase only once! On a KLM flight from Amsterdam to Curaçao. I do 5 flights involving Africa and lose it 3 times!
I got only three letters for this: T.I.A.
Saturday, 8 December 2007
The Windy City
After our adventures fighting off the greatest predators of the animal kingdom (and for some the greatest predators are the insects), we moved on to our the destination: Cape Town. The 2.5 hour flight from Maputo went smoothly and we arrived safely in the second city of RSA. The city where the legend of the Flying Dutchman was born!According to folklore, the Flying Dutchman is a ghost ship that can never go home, and is doomed to sail the oceans - mainly around Cape Hope - forever. Most of you will now know it from the Pirates of the Caribbean flicks, in which the ship is portrayed as having a crew of doomed humans slowly being transformed into sea life. Much like regular life, where most of us slowly transform into vegetable life as we get older... (read the following in a loud hollow voice) We are all doomed!
Actually, earlier this year I saw an investigative documentary on the legend of the Flying Dutchman which concluded that the original very first version of the legend was based on a vessel nicknamed the Flying Vlemish, but that since the Dutch ruled the sea in those times, the story to Dutchman to beef up the story. Wouldn't that be a disappointment for KLM who carries the FD as a badge... (which I never understood, as it refers to a doomed ship)
First impressions of Cape Town were a bit surreal. After spending months in sub-sahara Africa where people live along the dirt roads in 'houses' made of roof plates, you all of a sudden enter a town which basically looks like a cross between Miami Beach and Sydney. Nice streets, houses, hotels, malls, sea-side restaurants, luxury boats, a waterfront boardwalk and cable-carts.
Anybody that just visited Cape Town should never ever claim to have seen Africa. It's like going to Disney World and telling everybody that you've seen the United States... (even though
George W does look a bit like Goofy).
There are many things you can do in Cape Town. Partying is one of the 'activities'. The main party street is Long Street. for those of you who have been to Sydney, just think of Oxford Street and you'll get the picture. A long street (very original name!) with restaurants, bars, mini-clubs, surf-shops, bijoux stores, etc. This is where it all happens. Locals, backpackers and tourists fill the street starting at 20:00 hrs for food, drinks, music and uncontrolled movements locally referred to as dancing.Over the course of the 4 nights we spent there we've seen the inside of every bar and club, ranging from teenie Breezer bars to the local intellectual bohemian loft, from hardcore rap hole to the more-or-less trendy deephouse basement and from the traditional beer smelling Irish bar (where one guy plays the entire discography of U2 by himself) to the exotic lounge café. Is Cape Town therefore a great party place? Hmm, honestly not in my opinion. If you're a student backpaper you'll have tons of fun, but for others it's a bit undefined.
Of course there were also day activities. Most of these required us to wake up early. Yep, visit Paradise and get going! The area around Cape Town is known for its vineyards and there are many wine tasting tours available. Since we do enjoy our occasional drop of alcohol - but only a little bit of course - we signed up for one. The entire afternoon was spent driving around the country side and stopping at very nice vineyards for some SSSS. That is Swirl, Sniff, Sip and Swallow... Or was it Spit? Ehh... Nah! It must be swallow! Why waste a perfectly good glass of wine?
The nicest trip was the tour to Cape Point. The whole ride to it was cool, passing by beautiful areas with beaches, hills and of course nice houses, including those from Madonna and Oprah. Girl power! We also took the option of doing a boat trip to a rock outside the bay where the seals relax and sunbathe. Literally hundreds of seals.We also saw...yes! yes! yes!.. a mother whale with her young one. They were drifting along the coast line just some 50 meters out. Amazingly closeby! Whale season was actually over, but we were told that mothers hang around until their kid is strong enough to swim out with her.
Before reaching the point we made a quick stop at an ostrich farm. It was run by a family. A very strange family. A very very very strange family. Some serious inbreeding was going on there and we're not referring to the animals... On that farm the ostrich were obviously the intelligent species.The cape itself was pretty. A nice rock sticking out the ocean. We took the mandatory 'lookie me at southern most point' pictures and headed back to the city. On the way back there was a quick tour of the botanical gardens before we were dropped off at the Waterfront. There we enjoyed a a few cold ones while the Bokke were taking Wales apart on the telly.
Regretfully, many of the things we wanted to do, we couldn't because of the weather. The temperatures were great, the sun was shining, but there was a lot of wind too. That means no cable cart to table mountain, no ferry to Robben island (former 'home' of Nelson Mandela) and no boats leaving from Gansbaai to go cage diving with Jaws, a.k.a. the great white shark.
I guess I'll just have to go back and the first week of February seems like the best opportunity. Finish off my assignment with some shark nose tapping! Establish dominance!The trip was concluded with two days of Johannesburg. In short: don't go there! It's number 2 murder capital of the world (ahead of Bagdad!), number 1 in assaults, number 3 in car jackings and number 2 in kidnappings. Only Colombia has them beat on the last category.
Everything there happens inside. People go to malls or stay home. Home is where the heart is... and the alarm, the sensors, the guards, the dogs and the electrical fence! But apparently, even the mall is not safe! Some store attendant there hit the floor a millisecond after a few meters away some kid's balloon popped. We were still registering the sound and this guy was already drafting his testament from underneath the counter!
The only reason to visit Joburg would be the Apartheid museum. Tough luck! It wasn't open during my stay, but James and Sharif got to go as their flights were later that day. They confirmed that it does make a lasting impression on you. So, I guess I'll have to add Joburg to my February itinerary as well.
It's now 5 days to my departure back to Froglandia, followed by two weeks of blue Curaçao: the island, not the drink! I guess I can sneak in one more blog entry before the end of year, but in case I don't: Happy Days and a Great 2008!
Saturday, 1 December 2007
Freddy Kruger Park
It has been a while and for good reason since I just spent 2 weeks on holidays. It all started on 14 Nov when James arrived here at Maputo. Obviously that was a big moment for him as it was his first trip to da mothalan. It goes without saying that this historic fact was celebrated with alcoholic drinks for the entire two weeks.The next day his buddy Sharif arrived from New York. Did I mention that he was from New York? How do I describe this guy? Hmmm, imagine taking a big pot and put in there a table spoon of Eddie Murphy, a bucket of Flavor Flav, some Schwarzenegger (just a little bit though. Don't want to inflate the ego), a little diddy or puff of Sean John, a Joey "How you doin'?" Tribbiani pack, a pinch of Dennis Rodman and a good handful of Ali G. Turn on the heat and mix it all up with some of your favourite dance moves from Justin Timberlake and MC Hammer and you have.... Sharif! And, what you didn't know... he's from New York!
The first days were spent in Maputo. Some sightseeing, swimming, shrimp eating, partying and yes, drinking. The highlight of those days? Some dude trying to pick a fight with Sharif over something. We actually still do not know what. Maybe he didn't even know! He might have actually be mentally challenged as his way of 'announcing' the fight was to smash his own glass against his forehead! Yes, you read this correctly. He smashed his own drink against his own head! Never mind the risks of seriously injuring oneself, but just consider the waste of perfectly good alcohol!!!
Next stop? Kruger Park! A park more than half the size of Holland and about 45 times larger than Curaçao. We entered through one of the South gates and immediately saw a whole bunch of crocodiles. They didn't look that menacing though, especially not later that night on my plate. Tastes like chicken, of course!
Half a mile further down the road we saw impala's! Wow! We were extremely impressed with our luck! We just arrived and already saw deer! The three of us had never seen an impala before so we were manoeuvring carefully to take the best shot. Little did we know that these animals are only outnumbered by mosquitoes in the park. Two hours later we were like: Hey ! Impala! Yeah, whatever... (By the way, they don't taste like chicken.)
Over the next 2.5 days we drove and drove and drove around the park. Well... ehhh... technically, I drove and James and Sharif slept but only half of the drive. Safari is quite fun. You drive around slowly and in the meanwhile you stare and stare. You look left, right, up and down in search of a moving object or a silhouette that looks like an animal. Half of the time it's a tree trunk.
Sometimes you drive a full hour without seeing anything (apart from these d*mned impala's) and then all of a sudden I hit the brakes, the boyzzz jolt out of their nap, and we all stare and stare at something in the distance. The reward is great when you spot an animal you haven't seen before in its natural habitat.
And we saw many! We saw Giraffe, Kudu, Warthog, Buffalo, Steenbok, Hippo, Baboon, Waterbuck, Elephant (+babies), Hyena, Springbok (the national symbol of South Africa), an Eagle (!), Bats, Nyala, Rhino, Wildebeest, Zebra, Bushbuck, Grey Duiker, Eland, Ostrich, Vervet Monkey and of course... the King of the Jungle... (no, not Sharif).... the Lion! Now also know by us as 'ohhhhhhh Leoooooooooooooooone'.
The two scariest encounters were with the Lion and with a specific male Elephant who looked seriously pissed off, as if someone took away his TV remote in the middle of a Baywatch reunion special.
The lion encounter was not necessarily scary, but quite tense. We signed up for a night drive and as we were driving along in pitch dark, we came up to a lion who had just eaten and was sleeping on the road. We carefully drove up to him and everyone was taking pictures. Obviously this woke him up. First a big yawn to make sure we were all aware of the fact that our entire head would easily fit in between his yaws. Then he got up and slowly paced along side the vehicle, as if he was sizing it up. In the meanwhile he kept giving us the evil eye! He looked mean and threatening. I swear, if he had a glass of gin-tonic, he would smash it against his forehead!
When a adult male lion looks at you like that from up close, it's scary. You get visions of ending up like Siegfried and Roy! And that was already bad, even before their incident.The elephant was really scary. It started quite peacefully. I was driving along, the guys were taking their nap and all of a sudden I saw a herd of elephants drinking and bathing in the little river. We stopped and so did a few others behind us. It was a nice sight. All of a sudden a noise! One large male elephant started trumpeting loudly, shaking his head and flapping his ears. Obviously he was pissed off. He started 'jogging' in our direction, increasing his speed as he came closer. He ran up the hill, stopped some 100 meters away from us and checked out the vehicles. There were 2 large safari trucks, one big ass 4x4 and there we were.. 3 tasty, juicy, healthy, fresh, vitamin rich, clean scrubbed boys crammed in a vehicle, affectionately known in Banco Terra as a 'baby Tata'...
Our little Nightmare on Elm Street was about to start! This big fella' quickly came to the conclusion that the small package was definitely the one he could handle and ran straight at us. Obviously the first instinct is to run and run fast. This was also the advise screamed out loud by one of my passengers. The other one shouted in panic "Establish Dominance!". However, we also didn't want to miss the spectacle as we were all holding our camera's to try and get the best action shot.
Problem with Dumbo was that he didn't run in a straight line. The trees might have had something to do with that. So I'm with my left foot pushing down the clutch, the right foot on the verge to putting the pedal to the metal and my left hand (yes, left hand) holding the stick wondering whether I should put it in first gear or in reverse. All depending on the route taken by our 'friend'.
Finally when he was close enough I decided to go forward, but just some 20 meters, since we didn't want to run from the action. Our Bergkamp-like quick change of direction was too much for Mr. Grey as he skidded past us like an Argentinian defender and ended up on the other side of the road. That was a close call! Our hearts were beating, the adrenaline was pumping and I think my guests have only been more scared when seeing mosquitos... Yep, they were roughing it!PS: Kudu, Ostrich and Springbok also do not taste like chicken.
Next post: Cape Town, which in our books took over the title of the Windy City.
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