How Can We Be Lovers?

July 22, 2010 (Yeah I know it's September 7, I'm not much of blogger)

So yesterday was such a great day. The park is celebrating its 50th anniversary this week so a lot of dignitaries and other big wigs are coming in for the ceremony on Friday. But, we, the forestry department, had the duty of delivering invitations to the five local kings that live north and west of the park. Our journey would take us the full circumstance of the mountain. For the first time we would get to see the mountain from all sides and see just how deforested the mountain was on the far side. So yesterday morning around 8am we set out to hand delivery these invitation. There were six of us packed into a Land Cruiser pickup, three up front and three in the bed. It was one of those perfect days; the sun was out, a few clouds in the sky, arm hangout the window, farmer tan in full effect.

Now just to kind of set up the task given to us I have to explain that these kingdoms are rather large and the kings do not exactly live on the main road. No, rather these guys live about as deep in their respective territories as you possible can. To say we were going deep into the bush would be a pretty good understatement. We were going in many cases as far as the road went and in a few cases were the road did not really go but we went anyway. There was a bit of hurry to get from one point to the next and get back to Vila Gorongosa before dark, right now around 6pm. So there we are barreling down this dirt road in the middle of nowhere no more than 20 minutes into our journey when a baby goat runs in front of us and bam, we hit it. Oh shit, I thought it was a dog at first. We pull over and Muagura (My Mozambican boss) is looking in the review mirror and says we have to turn around and talk to its owner. I thought for sure it was dead or very close to dead. Mona (Peace Corp Colleague) and me were covering our eyes; no way we wanted to see dog parts all over the side of the road. We get back down there and I see it is a goat and am relieved. It hasn’t been a dismembered, but hurt bad enough I’m pretty sure it was dinner that night. So Muagura gets out and the starts talking to owner and asks how much the goat is worth. The owner gives some astronomical figure, probably like $50 at which point Thomas (Forestry Manager) starts yelling at the guy. Total shit show, but great entertainment. Mean while Mona and I are sitting in the truck and another guy comes over with a newborn baby no more than a week old. We ask is she just come home from the hospital, nope, born in the bush, wow!

Back to the goat. So the owner is now claiming that the goat is his god and that we own him not only money for the goat but money for a replacement goat. Muagura forces 1000 Mets ($35) into his hand and off we go. Back to barreling down the road. Everything is great, windows open, listening to Oliver Kutzy when we notice that the tape (yes we have a tape deck) has begun to repeat. So we start looking for a new tape when Muagura says “I thing there is a Michael Bolton tape, can you put that in?” Absolutely! I tell you, there is nothing like being deep in the bush with the radio blasting “How can we be lovers” to make you stop and ask, “Where the f am I?”
Anyhow, we make it to the first King (Regalo in Portuguese). He has a pretty nice set up; about six huts spread about a piece of land the size of a football field with a Mozambican flag in the middle. When I say hut, I mean hut in the classic sense of the word. Well we get there and the King is gone doing who knows what. We leave the invitation with this son. I ask the very pointed question of exactly how is the King going to get from his house to the park. He obviously has no vehicle of his own. Muagura looks me straight in the face and says the King has a bicycle. Then he starts cracking up and we all have a good laugh. No, instead we will have to make this same trip the very next day to pick up all the Kings and bring them to the park, then the day after bring them back to the bush. So back in the truck we go.

We are driving down the road, Mona and I are translating Michael Bolton into Portuguese for Muagura, when we see some kid with huge pieces of meat hangs off sticks on the side of the road. Thomas says that it is bush meat, which gives us some concern considering we are driving around the perimeter of a national park. Turns out we were about 5 miles from the park’s border, so “fair game.” I guess that is where that term came from. We go deliver an invitation and turn around back the way we came. This time I insist we stop to look at the bush meat. Thomas is happy that I have made this suggestion. I can clearly see that he has also been thinking about some succulent roasted warthog for the past hour. We stop and two hooves on sticks are shoved into my face. Money is exchanged, meat in hand, we wave to some little kids and off we go. We stop up the road to buy some cokes and make some bush meat sandwiches for lunch.

Now warthog or wild boar, I’m not sure what it was, doesn’t have the same flavor as pork, it’s a bit redder. Perhaps because the meat was not aged or unseasoned it was not what I expected. I am use to eating chicarrones (fried pork skins), which this meat looked very similar to, but the flavor just was not there. Don’t get me wrong it was good, just not what you or I would expect.

By this time its 2pm, our butts hurt from riding down bumpy dirt roads, my left arm is burnt from hang out the window and we still have three invitations. Rolling down the road we now get to see the northern side of the mountain range and its highest peak from the savanna. The closer you get the more it becomes it becomes evident of the level of deforestation we are dealing with on this northwest side, the side the faces the park and feeds it’s rivers and estuaries.

We make it to King Canda’s around 3pm, he’s not home either. By the time we make to the last king, which is the King Tambarada, the region that I live in, it’s close to 5:30. He’s pissed that we are coming so late in the day. He kind of looked at Mona and me like “who are guys?” I was told a little later that he was drunk. Apparently he likes to drink. I think he was upset to be the last king we visited and not the first. Six o’clock roles around and we role into town. Mona and I head to the only real decent restaurant in town for some omelets and salad, and we finish the great day off with Mozambique’s finest dark lager, Laurentina Preta.