Home Sweet Hotel

Just 2 weeks ago I decided to move hotel. Originally I was in the Polana hotel which is quite a presidential palace kind of hotel. The type of hotel you see in those dictator movies. You know the scene: Outside, people are chopping each other up into many bite-size pieces and inside the general, who just committed the bloody coup d'etat, is enjoying a brandy with some foreign ambassador. Hotel Rwanda! Luckily no one was chopping outside. The only chopping going on were the art craft salesmen working on their merchandise in between 'harassing' all the unsuspecting tourists walking by.

The Polana is a very nice hotel and staying there is like visiting the African Madam Tussauds. The big difference being that the 'statues' are not made out of wax but are the actual originals. It is the hotel where all the famous, rich and/or important people stay. Come to think of it, some of their wives' faces did look like they were made out of wax.

So, in the 2 months I stayed there I saw almost every African president (including their entire posse which can be quite large), the Senegalese national football team, the internationally acclaimed local painter Malangatana (his work can be seen here) and even an actress from Law & Order. Not that I recognised her, but some countryman of hers felt it necessary to announce to all at breakfast how famous his table guest was. I also had Adriaan van Dis, Willem-Alexander and Maxima as co-guests. For you non-Dutchies, these are people that are 'world famous in Holland'.

What else can I say about the Polana? It's very nice and very old fashioned at the same time. It has a great garden with a large (unheated) pool. I tried going in there once, but it was this cold (holding my thumb and index finger about two inches apart). The WiFi works in most parts of the hotel, so you can sun bathe pool-side with your laptop while updating your blog. Not that I would do that, since as a proper Antillian I "sun-bathe" and blog in the shadow.

The restaurant is the only place in Maputo which has European prices on their menu. For one big meal at Polana you could eat an entire week anywhere else. And I've heard the quality isn't that great. I didn't eat there since I don't like eating in hotels. It is sad enough to live in one, so I avoid eating in it too.

And then there's the Polana Hotel Bar. Normally hotel bars are quite lively with business men and women enjoying a few beers after yet another tough day, but the hotel bar here is a bit to stuffy for that. It looks like one of those men-only social clubs where old men with grey hair and grey suits sit in green leather chairs enjoying a whiskey and cigar. The one good things is that they have a great piano player and a local female singer with an excellent voice. I'm not a Whitney Houston fan, but this girl did a flawless "I will always love you" at full force without microphone. And that, my friends, is impressive!

By the way, the bar has this Norwegian spirit called Akvavit (aka aquavit) and legend has it that it will only taste right if it has crossed the equator twice! So that is exactly what the factory does. They ship the barrels before bottling it and on the back of the label you will find the name of the vessel and the dates it crossed middle-earth. Just a bit of trivia that might come in handy during a quiz night (It ain't easy!). On Wikipedia I found the following:

Particular to the Norwegian tradition is the occurrence of Linie akvavits (such as "Løiten Linie" and "Lysholm Linie"). These have been carried in oak casks onboard ships crossing the equator ("Linie") twice before it is sold. While many experts claim that this tradition is little more than a gimmick, some argue that the moving seas and frequent temperature changes cause the spirit to extract more flavour from the casks. Norwegian akvavit distillers Arcus has carried out a scientific test where they tried to emulate the rocking of the casks aboard the "Linie" ships while the casks were subjected to the weather elements as they would aboard the same ship. The finished product was according to Arcus far from the taste that a proper "Linie" akvavit should have, thus the tradition of shipping the akvavit casks past the "Linie" and back continues.

So I decided to switch hotels and I now 'live' in the Hotel Avenida, which is a more modern typical business traveller hotel. Definitely not as 'posh' as Polana, but I actually like it a lot more. For starters, it is right smack in the middle of what I now call the Polana strip. The strip is where most of the restaurants, the sports bar, some banks, the movie theatre and a mini shopping mall is located. Actually, you would almost think that you weren't in Africa when walking the strips apart from all the huge sidewalk holes, street vendors and beggars... and the cars, the smell, the badly maintained apartment buildings, the many guards with AK-47's etc. etc.

The hotel also has a quite well equipped gym. I hadn't seen one since leaving Holland (even though the Polana had an ancient gym) and I could tell! I was developing love handles like never before. Well probably more lack-of-love handles as some loving would've implied some form of activity. So now I am being a good boy again and take the elevator up to the top floor to exercise a bit with a nice night view of the city. That, and the fact that I'm playing football again, should bring me down to my usual athletic muscular Adonis-like sculpted figure... (did I just hear someone cough?)

Overall the hotel has a more modern and younger feel to it. The room size and rates are the same, but the facilities just a bit more 21st century: proper climate control and a consistently working shower. Also the guests are more my peers: business people, consultant types, etc. The Polana looked like a board room, the Avenida like a project meeting room, if you know what I mean.

Well the fact that I am now finally not sleeping next to the elevator engine (yes, I requested a different room....3 times!) and that the hotel is not trying to charge my credit card without me, nor my card, nor my signature being present (did somebody say 'fraud'?) is also a nice little added benefit of this move, but that is an entirely different story...

I like!

Ladies and gents. This is just a quick message to let you know that you have only one week left to enter in the big Maputo sweepstake! One week to win Mozambique's greatest souvenir! Just answer the 12 questions in an email to myself and you could be our lucky winner!

So far no one has answered all questions correctly. The toughest question of course being the last one. If I see the answers you guys have submitted, I drink anywhere between 0 and 7 (!) beers per day in the hotel. Wow!

The souvenir has been bought and I must say, it is really nice! To quote my American friend who's a big Borat fan: "High five! I like!"

Shoprite or Wrong?

I’m playing football now on a regular basis. The first two months were great but I really felt that something essential was missing from my life. Well, apart from the Ferrari, yacht, an Oscar, a Puma sponsorship deal and the two super models, of course… It was something different. I had not been playing football for the entire period. Two months without touching a single ball… (ehhh… No, too easy!). And I wasn’t even injured.

Of course there was enough football to be seen. Not only did I visit the legendary Mozambique vs Senegal game, but I could also follow the European Under-21 tournament Holland won (with the extremely overestimated Drenthe), the Copa America (great goal by Messi against Mexico) and even the FIFA Youth World Cup in Canada in which Sergio, the youngest of ‘my’ Argentinian 2005 squad, won the best player and goal scorer award (next to his second consecutive world title).

It is funny, actually, how I could (if I wanted to) see more football here in Third World extremely poor sub-Sahara Africa than most of you guys in techno Europe and US. Yes, last week they even had the Amsterdam and Rotterdam tournaments live.

But, now I joined a team. Well, not really a team, but a local pick-up game. A bunch of guys play every Friday in a concrete courtyard a five-a-side game. Of course, it is all Maputo style. When I was invited to join they informed me that the game would start at 20:00 hrs. I normally work until 18:30 hrs which shouldn’t be a problem apart from the fact that I had to buy some sort of futsal shoes first. And I had no clue where to buy this. Not only is there no such thing as a shopping area or a mall, but all stores close rather early as well (and yes, they have a long siesta too).

This is where our management assistant (even though here they are still referred to as secretary) came to the rescue. She offered to go with me to the Shoprite shopping centre. Did somebody say shopping centre??? A real one? One with real brand stores, hallway music, a car raffle, fast food joints, multiplex cinema, bored teenagers and frustrated husbands carrying their wives bags? YES! YES! YES!

No!.... It’s a supermarket, two banks, a flower shop, a shoe store and possible one or more kitsch gift shops I might have missed on purpose. And don’t think the shoe store is where I went for the futsal gear. No, here in Maputo, if you really want to succeed in shopping, you go to the supermarket! Either the Shoprite of the Game. These are not just your regular supermarkets, these are hypermarkets. Brazilians, Americans and the French will know these. It’s the kind of supermarket that is the size of a regular IKEA and apart from your Camembert cheese you can also buy a pool table or a new suspension for your car. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to pick up a plasma TV, wheel barrel, Christmas tree and a new wedding dress in aisle 14.

Since I already have good futsal shoes back home, I decided to go for the cheapest possible futsal look-a-like shoe. In the meanwhile the secretary had gotten company from the HR girl of our bank. It’s almost like women can smell when someone (with credit card) is going clothes shopping. What is that? Where do they get this talent from?

And they were ready! We arrived at the store together in the same car, but for some inexplicable reason these ladies had already scanned the entire sport shoe section (and undoubtedly the women’s shoe section as well) before I even got there! And they had already picked one for me. And it was perfect! I tried them on, they fit and I headed straight towards the cashier leaving behind two very disappointed looking women. The shopping was over! I committed the ultimate man sin. I went shopping with ladies and had succeeded in 39.32 seconds...

However, these women did not give up. They dove into the shoe mountain only to re-emerge with all different kind of shoes in their hands. Try this one! Maybe you like this one more! What about the one with the cute purple stripe? Why not try them all? Desperation was taking over. All rationale disappeared. Done with shoe shopping within a minute??? Impossible! Where’s the world going too? Al Gore was right! We’re doomed!

I ignored the howl of the sinister shop sisters and walked in a steady unwavering pace straight to the cashier. Don’t look back!, I kept telling myself. They’re probably more afraid of you than you of them. I reached the caixa without a scrath, quickly paid the 800 Meticais for the pair (that is a staggering 24 Euro) and headed for the car. A few minutes later they appeared. I trembled, but that wasn't necessary. I guess the full moon must’ve disappeared behind a cloud, because they were close to normal again. However, it was a long quiet ride back to the hotel…

PS: I actually intended to write about the local football thingy, but this article totally diverted and I more or less filled the page with the shopping part. Oh well, African football stories will have to come some other time.

It's Quiz Time!

This is your chance to bring a little piece of Mozambique into your home! Through the following quiz you can win a locally crafted item to decorate your home, office, caravan, tree-hut or cardboard box with. There are so many local art craft salesmen outside the hotel harassing me whenever I walk out, I figured I might as well reward them for their persistence and buy something from them one day. And it can be yours! Just be the one that answers the most questions correctly.

How to Enter:

1. Complete below multiple choice questions and email your answers to me.
2. Do this no later than 31 August 2007 (yeah, you have some time).
   
3. Hold your breath in excitement as you wait for the final results.
4. Make your testament (do this before step 3).

Competition rules:

• Everybody can enter. Even close relatives and employees. Even I can enter!
• You can enter only once, even if you have a multiple personality disorder. I that case you each can also only enter once...
  
• If you have no personality you can try to enter using someone else's.
• There is no age limit, even though the organisation will be quite suspicious if people under the age of 4 enter. In that case both parents will be excluded.
• There's no limitation with regards to sex. However, it is not recommended to complete this quiz during it.
• And last but not least. There will be no mandatory drug testing.

Ready? Here we go!

1. How many countries share a land border with Mozambique?
2. How do you say 'shrimp' in Portuguese
   
3. Which football legend was born in Mozambique?
4. What is the name of the local currency?
   
5. What is the most spoken first language in this country?
   
6. (Tough one) How do you say 'Thank You' in this language?
   
7. How did former president Samora Machel die?
8. On what street will our bank open its doors?
9. What will be the name of this bank?
   
10. What type of nut is available in huge numbers in this country?
11. Approximately how many times can you fit Holland in Mozambique?

And in case more people get the same number of correct answers, we have the tie-breaker. Closest one to the correct answer wins.

12. How many beers were there on my July hotel bill?

On behalf of the organisation, the judges, the notary, the sponsor and the union for multiple personality disorders, me, myself and I wish you all good luck!

Bridget Jones

Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. You voted on the survey about what the next topic should be on my Mozambican blog and the subject you really really are dying to hear about is Bridget Jones. A chubby desperate pale single girl from the UK? I guess James didn't vote otherwise I'm pretty sure a different category would've popped up as the clear winner...

Well, to start of with, there are no people from the UK in Mozambique. Not a single one seen so far, which is not so unusual as it is not a former British colony and not the Spanish coast (which seem like the only places Brits go to). Oh by the way, for some weird reason Mozambique does get to participate in the commonwealth games.

So not a Brit to be seen, apart from an old guy that has been working here a while and sits in the hotel bar every single night from 18 hrs onwards waiting for his local girlfriend (which could've been his granddaughter). Sometimes she's late, which is not entirely unusual over here, and by then he's gone a bit drunk (due to the continuous drinking without yet having had dinner) and starts mumbling to himself with the occasional yelled out complaint towards the live entertainment. What he complains about? Oh, in the middle of a Whitney Houston song he'll scream out something like "Sing in English! None of this local language bullsh*t!".

Of course, at some point his 'baby' shows up and then the entire bar gets to enjoy the scene where he tells the girl that she's late and she apologises. A bit like a primary school teacher telling off his student. Highly disgusting. Enough about the Mackerel (which is our nickname for him).

If I look around here for Bridget Jones, what resembles her most are the female South African tourists. You get a bunch of them invading the city and its nearby beaches. 90% of the tourism here is from the RSA since it is the shortest route to a beach from the eastern side of South Africa. These guys an' gals are exactly that: guys an' gals.

They highly resemble what in the US would be called red necks! Big obnoxious farmers with their sloppy wives and girlfriends invading Maputo with huge 4x4's acting as if they own the country. The real Afrikaners. Also, a lot of the beach houses and hostels up north are owned by South Africans and you hear really bad stories about how they treat their local staff. Often they also do not accept guests which are a bit more 'tanned', if you know what I mean. They probably still live in that era when Mandela was still on Robben island (no, not named after Arjen). Of course, I am talking here about a specific group of South Africans, mostly (game) farmers, which are probably not representative of the country (my apologies Kevin, in case you read this and feel offended).

So what else can I say about Bridget Jones? The local Bridget Jones' are very active and aggressive. They do not sit around in a corner praying some handsome guy will court them. They do sit in a corner, but that is where the comparison stops. They sit there and scan the area for prey. If you are a foreigner and you dare to look at one for more than 0.7 seconds (yes, I have done the full experiment and that seems to be tipping point) then you can bet she will get up and jump all over you. Hello mister meal ticket! It will take you 0.7 hours to undo your 0.7 seconds.

These girls are not what one would call 'working girls'. They are comparable to what in Singapore is known as SPG's, Singapore Party Girls. Mostly very attractive and representative girls, wearing expensive clothing and jewellery (very likely donated by the one before you), hanging out in hotels and touristy bars and speaking fluent English. The concept is simple, they hang out with you and you pay the bills and buy her a few gifts. I guess you can see them as a one woman Escort Service. Self employed company!

And in case you were wondering, the answer is no...

PS: The survey on this blog has been updated, so feel free to vote again.