Day 114: A Little Self-Conscious in Moz — Visiting Vilanculos
Not going to lie: It feels weird to be indulging in by far the most luxurious stay of our year…in a country that’s currently enduring what the NYT called the worst humanitarian crisis since Syria. More on that below.
We spent a peaceful morning at “home” doing school, swimming, working on a 500-piece puzzle and trying hard to finish my GD book, “The Covenant” (I should have known a James Michener about South Africa would be a beast — I want to finish it by the time we leave Mozambique but not sure how I’ll do it — it’s so good too!)
Teddy’s gotten through more, shorter books and I’m jealous: He read and loved NYT correspondent Jeffrey Gettleman’s memoir “Love, Africa” and is now reading a memoir about Zimbabwe called “The Last Resort.”
(I guess while we’re on books, Willa’s read all the Critter Clubs and about 10 Sophie Mouse books. She’s now into Dory Fantasmagory. After finishing and loving Matilda, the BFG and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, we’re now into the “Toys Go Out” series, which are hilarious and fun for them. Also reading “Who was Cleopatra” and the Magic Tree House edition about Egypt in prep for next week’s Middle East swing).
We had lunch on the beach and spent a few hours watching the fishing operation here. The beach in front of our hotel is a working beach, not private. Every day there are teams of locals working in groups of 20+, including women and children, to cast and pull in enormous nets.
There’s a micro-economy here. One man owns the nets and gets the biggest cut from what they bring in. Anyone from town who needs some extra cash for the day can join the team and earn a piece of the haul.
On this day, one team brought in a lot of fish — heaps of 6-8-inch silver things — and we watched as they divvied up the catch right there on the beach. Staffers from the hotel, including the chef, all lined up to buy. Others were sorting through for the best to take to market and sell at a markup. Still more had set up a grill and were cooking and selling cooked versions for takeaway lunch.
Then we watched another boat about 500 feet away pull in a net that was basically empty. Hard to watch, honestly, especially as we retired to our private villa…Uggggggggh. All that work.
Around 3:30 our host Sergio took us in a jeep to town. We stopped in a few places for souvenirs — did our purchasing part, with gusto.
Then we drove through the “heaving” municipal market — heaving’s a British way of saying busy, we’ve learned — and watched the post-school, post-work crowd buy everything from groceries to baby supplies to clothes.
We didn’t actually get out and wander the market because the kids were falling asleep and it was packed. We just sort of mosey’d through the street via jeep and took it in.
Teddy did hop out at one point, though, to get James a new soccer ball (to replace the one left behind in Plett).
We hit a few more stops and just generally cruised through town — saw some 2003 cyclone damage areas, popped into a stopped-in-time 1960s hotel called Dona Ana, and got a beach drink before heading home for dinner.
Early bed after some family board games and dinner.
About those cyclones you’ve been reading about:
We almost didn’t come to Mozambique.
Our hotel isn’t near the devastation — about the distance between Boston and DC — and multiple sources had confirmed that all was ok in the town where we’d booked. But still we almost didn’t come. Our indecision was more a matter of optics and general ickiness — how gross would it look and feel to go?
We decided to keep our plans.
Sure enough, this place was untouched by the cyclones and is sunny and beautiful and the town is vibrant and bustling.
But it doesn’t make us feel any less self-conscious about being here.
Our mixed feelings include thoughts like:
So many economies depend on foreign tourism and can be devastated when nervous travelers cancel based on what they read in the news. That was the case with Cape Town and its recent drought (many restaurants went out of business), and so many of the places we’ve been already this year (eg, Colombia, Rio de Janeiro, Joburg, Zimbabwe, etc. — places that sound “scary” to Americans).
Already we’ve been thinking to ourselves about all the souvenir purchases, food buying and endless tips that would have vaporized if we’d bailed.
On the flip side, though we’re feeling like you can’t come to a disaster-struck country and ignore what’s happened or pretend everything’s heavenly (esp on social media) when it’s just…not. Our approach: Spend money, donate money, avoid painting a silly/blissful picture, etc. We’ve given to a UN Crisis Relief fund for Mozambique (and you can too, here).
Happy we came, not 100% at peace with being here, if that makes sense? Hard to fully embrace this insanely exquisite locale and sink into the decadence right now. And it is decadent!!
