Queimado

Burnt.

Namaacha’s principal draws are its cascatas (waterfalls) but my walk to them was almost thwarted as the hotel receptionist scaremongered me effectively about muggings and murders on the way. It was all a little Midsomer Murders and hard to believe as Namaacha is much more chilled than some of the bona fide sketchy places I’ve travelled to. However I heeded the advice and checked at both the local police station and with a wise old waiter in a café. They both dismissed the stabbing rumours but I still wound up walking to the waterfalls with policewoman Clara and policeman Gerry. We had a genuinely lovely time talking and horsing around on the rocks and it was vastly different to interactions with the police in Maputo. It felt strange to do so but I did give them a little tip to cover their time after the long walk, recognising that police salaries are 6,500 meticais per month, which is only around 100 dollars. It was fair but I noticed the police were sheepish about accepting it under the gaze of a woman at the hotel, in case they could be viewed as extracting it. It was an interesting insight into the trust in public institutions, which is low. Even though police salaries are poor, officers are perceived to occupy and abuse positions of power, even after my delightful excursion with Gerry and Clara.

The chapa journey back to Maputo was sweaty but uncomplicated once we’d finally stopped trawling the main drag of Namaacha to look for clients. My fellow passengers were an interesting lot: a woman who was born in Niassa Province and now works in education in Maputo, a woman who’d lived in Portugal for two years and a woman studying business in Manzini in Eswatini. After various conversations through the deafening roar of the chapa engine, it had been a good weekend on the Portuguese immersion front.

This evening my face extremely closely resembles a tomato. I’d thrown in insect repellent instead of sun screen as I hastily packed a bag for Namaacha. Endearing as it is, it’s not the type of town with a pharmacy bursting full of health products, so I was walking in the hot sun for hours with no protection. In general I’ve moved past the reckless sun (lack of) discipline but deserve today’s tomato status for being slapdash. The insect repellent was pointless because although the staff at the hotel crowed about mosquitos at the waterfalls, I hadn’t worn any and didn’t encounter any swarms. Trying to treat me with kid gloves is always a recipe for some recalcitrant behaviour.

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