5 things people never told me about Maputo…

Teardrop, Matola, Mozambique (2014)When people talk about Mozambique, they often say positive things like “The people are really friendly,” and “The seafood is really great.” Both are true, but they only take you so far. When you stick around for longer than a holiday weekend, reality starts to set in and this ole’ girl called Maputo starts to show her crow’s feet. She’s not an impressive city in comparison to neighboring Joburg, but she has charm and class. And the people are friendly, but with a healthy dose of sass and wit. Let’s just say that there are a lot of things I had to discover on my own. Here are the top 5 things that nobody ever told me about Maputo:

10402678_10101267023870802_5432848354976959553_n5- The seafood is good, but it gets boring. Most Mozambican meals boast 4 main ingredients: oil, onion, tomato and salt. Put it on meat. Put it on fish. Marinate it all day. It’s going to taste like a slight variation on the same thing every time. And most of the vegetable sides are potato, chima, and/or salad with white lettuce. I love the flavors (even when they are doused in MSG powder), but after having such culinary variety in the U.S. and India my tongue is bored.

4- Mozambican women are BAD! So…I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say this and not get my “heterosexual card” pulled, but really these women are effortlessly pretty. They are all well proportioned. Most work out actively. They have kids and still look good in bathing suits. They actually have lovely skin and awesome cheekbones. And, well, it’s all-natural (ish). People don’t believe in the botox or the injections, though they do have an affinity for new weaves/wigs every weekend. But what’s a little fake hair when your butt is real? Fair trade.

3- Nobody actually gets in the water. The drive along the Marginal every day really reminds why the hell I put myself through the torture of 9 hour workdays. But, nobody tells you that you can’t actually get in the water. It’s just decoration. It contains lots of gross matter that no one should have on their bodies, because it only recently came out of someone else’s body. The Indian Ocean looks so tempting you just might be tricked into wanting to dip a toe in on a romantic stroll on a hot summer’s day, but that would be a fool’s errand. Look, but don’t touch!

2-Maputo is everywhere you want to be. The city is only a three-hour drive to Swaziland and South Africa. Sure the roads are kinda unmarked and poorly lit, but those are no match for people with an adventurous spirit in need of widely spoken English interaction and South African supermarket products. I always thought it was the scarcity of consumer goods that drove people over the border, but it’s more than that. The grass isn’t always greener, but it’s definitely more orderly. And South African magazines like Bona and True Love are my new favorite addiction.

 

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1-Mozambicans are the biggest haters on earth. This is a real photo, from a real wall, on a real street in Maputo. No lie! I have never in my life met people who celebrate with suspicion, instinctively. Tell someone that you graduated from college or that you got a new job! It is not met with unfettered happiness and congratulations. It is met with a slow and deliberate questioning of just how you did it. Somebody must have helped you. You could have paid somebody a bribe. The very last thing that will come to people’s minds is that they should be happy for and with you. Actually, it’s as if most people don’t even think ‘positivity’ is an acceptable reaction. I chalk it up to the country’s socialist history, where having more than the next person made you the brunt of suspicion, not the example of accomplishment. The sentiment lingers on well into the present and today I wouldn’t call it socialism. I just call it hate.

Well, you’ll have to come and see for yourself all the good and bad things Maputo has in store, including the exclusive beaches and resorts throughout the rest of the country. There you can get in the water and the women are still drop dead gorgeous. It hasn’t been determined if the hater quotient is still a national phenomenon or a localized epidemic. Be suspicious ya’ll, be very suspicious.

I feel old: 30 is definitely NOT the new 20

I’ll cut straight to the chase here. These days, I’m feeling as old as Methuselah, old as molasses, and as old as dirt. For instance, I originally thought I’d type this on my IPad, but even that feels like a “young” thing to do. So, it’s back to the ole’ laptop for me (which is the 80′s baby version of this New Orleans antique Underwood right cheah). For your reading pleasure, here’s my “Reasons I know I’m old” short list for the sharing…

...How I feel lately on Facebook.

…How I feel lately on Facebook.

5 – All my friends are procreating. I’d have to count on two hands how many people I know are with child, in a family way, or have a pea in the pod at this very moment. None of them are underage or being kicked out of their parents’ houses for bringing in another mouth to feed. You know what that means? It means that we’re getting old, old enough to have children of our own. And everybody knows that the scariest people on earth are children. So, I know I must be getting old when I’m excited for my pregnant friends and not silently mumbling, “Now our clubbing days are over!”

Evolution of Mom Dancing

Evolution of Mom Dancing

4- I have to plan to go clubbing. Gone are the days when I could just start the day at work, end the day sweaty in skimpy clothes, and start the next day 3 hours later with a shower, black coffee, and a change of clothes I left at my desk. I not only don’t have the stamina, but I lack the interest. For me to go clubbing requires advance notice and a nap! My work days are longer.  My skimpy clothes aren’t that skimpy anymore (I can’t bring myself to shop at H&M with the same level of frequency anymore). And drinking black coffee stains my teeth. See, that’s even an old thing to say. Stained teeth… Sigh. Anyways, I need at least 24 hours notice of said clubbing plan, but 48-72 hours is always appreciated. Or else one of two things is likely to happen: 1) I’ll show up at the club wearing my frumpy work clothes OR 2) my pre-club power nap quickly transforms into my full night’s sleep. Speaking of which…

Photo on 4-6-13 at 11.47 PM #23- Sleep is my friend. I’ve always loved sleep, but I’ve never NEEDED sleep quite like I need it now. Sleep is not just a pastime. It is a priority. In college, I could manage to work through the night, nap from 4am to 6am, and make it through the whole day til 6pm. My voice sounded like I’d become a chain smoking, 50 year old man, but I was up and alive! Now, I’m dead. Very, very dead. Even when I have 5 hours of sleep, I look like a chain smoking, 50 year old man. It’s really a shame, but now I’ve got at least 7 hours on my calendar that can’t be interrupted or else there are grave consequences.

2- I don’t have Instagram, because I don’t want people to think I’m young. Yea, I said it. I think it’s ok to NOT have a profile on every social media outlet out there. I say no to drugs and no to Instagram, LinkedIn, Orkut, and Candy Crush. A lady must have limits. You see, I am from that first Facebook generation. I believe in Facebook. I can’t go a day without checking it. I’ve had Skype so long that my account still charges in British Pounds, because when I first got it Skype was still primarily Europe based. But, I didn’t get on Twitter til last year. I have a LinkedIn account that I check once a year and still shows me working at a job I left 5 years ago. Ehh… I’m a choosy (social media) lover … what can I say?

1- I feel old as hell! I go for a run and I feel it in my lower back – for days. If I don’t sleep I feel it – for days. If I don’t eat well I feel it – for days. I mean, really, is there anything I don’t feel these days -for days? My energy level, my pain threshold, my metabolism, and my interest in people have all shifted in the last year. I could attribute it to my constant moving, or changes at work, or… well anything other than being old… but the reality is I feel old. Feeling is being. So, there you have it…