Moving Forward

So, although it was weird to make the decision to leave Angoche, and I almost renigged after realizing that I could deal with the housing situation and I like Angoche, I am still moving down to Inhassoro. I'll be in Angoche until a few days after Christmas, and then...to the beach!

A few words about Angoche: when wikipedia describes it as a dried up old Muslim trading post, they weren't kidding about the dried up part. Not literally, of course; Angoche sits on a beautiful bay and oddly enough faces west, so the sun sets over the water, making me feel like I'm not on the east coast of Africa but on the west. It's a little disorienting but also gives the town a certain otherworldly charm.

The town itself is very big. There are a few neighborhoods of old Portuguese-style houses...very similar to Namaacha, in fact. And then there are the bairros (Portuguese for neighborhood), where most of the people live. They are full of life and children, running barefoot on the sand between one thatched hut and another. The bairros have tall palms and a vibrating pulse, due mainly to the loudspeakers blaring music all the time (provided the electricity doesn't go out...).

When you drive into Angoche, the first thing you see is a wide, semi-paved road with a divider of trees and benches down the middle. This road is lined on one side with shops and on the other by a small hill. Over the hill is the secondary school, the bairro Pule, and the main Portuguese part of town. At the top of the hill is a beautiful view of the Indian Ocean (you can see where the bay meets the ocean...it's where the water becomes calm and the whitecaps stop) and various islands with white beaches that dot the bay. On the other side of the street, behind the shops, are more shops and the mercado, where most daily interactions take place. There is also another bairro of Portuguese houses and concrete/mud huts. Interspersed, and somewhat hidden, throughout each bairro are other markets...windy places with stall upon stall of capulana material (basically bright cloth for wearing/other uses), buckets, clothing, soap, and various foodstuffs. Stepping into one of these is like stepping into a labyrinth, and I could get lost in one all day.

If you follow the wide main road all the way to its end, you come to the bay, a calm place where locals troll their small sailboats for fish, crabs, prawns...you name it. There are benches there, perfect for sitting and watching the sunset or just catching the sea breeze and thinking, and a monument to Mozambican heroes.

I am sad to leave this beautiful place, where the women walk by nearly entirely shrouded in bright capulanas, in accordance with their Muslim faith, and where everyone is so friendly, so interested in the strange Americans who have come to live for two years. But, as I told the placement officer before he even placed any of us, I could go anywhere in this country and be happy. This way, with my transfer and the other Volunteer coming here, each school that sorely needs an English teacher still gets one. I came here to serve, and this is a perfect opportunity to do so. I think I can live with that.