beira 02

Beira is as delicate as the sand on it beach, it's soft to the eyes, to the heart, it's as gentle as the wind that you feel in the morning.
It may seem like a bunch of crap to you, but that's how it seemed to me there. It was so easy to imagine living there, with a small house, garden, kids running around, it's easy to imagine you'd be calm and relaxed over there.
I decided to stay a day more than I had planned, I needed to feel that peace for one more day... one more morning, one more very hot afternoon. I needed to still search for something... something I'd been dreaming about for a very long time.
No, it wasn't just that almost white sand, that soft feeling of being able to walk on it in bare feet... nor the extension of those beaches. It wasn't the presence of that adorable lighthouse, which at night fills the beach with it's warning light, or the abbandoned houses right by the beach front just calling out for us... or me at least. It's impressive how quick I can calculate how much money it would cost to leave everything and come and live here. It wasn't even the rotted ship Macuti, which was put purposely put in the sand in front of the lighthouse as to protect the sand dunes from overfloods, to save the beach someone ingeniously thought of picking up a sunken ship below water and put it back on earth... but with a lifesentence, to save the beach. It's motor is impressively big, you wonder how gigantic it was when you see it's detail... but, even in my mother's childhood photos, it's there... noone could tell me more.
Maybe you'd think it was the actual Macuti Church, made in the 50's or 60's, I think, I'm actually making this up, but it's from that era for sure, you can tell... built practically on the beach, it is falling apart because of the salt from the ocean. The staircase outside is hanging by a thread, literally and it's amazing how the steal columns are still holding the roof. Destruction apart... it is absolutely breathtaking. And, detail I love, has it's own outside church... prepared for every season! It serves as a school, and very lucky those kids are... unless it falls, which by the way, I offer my services to restore it... I'll do it for free, well actually, I'll do it for a couple of hours at the beach per day! good for me!

But no... I wasn't looking for things things specifically in Beira. In 1921, a little girl was born here, the first of my family to be born overseas, the cute adorable girl who dreamed of being a pilot and flying, just like those after her, daddy and me, and who because of her grandaughters, decided to give up her dream, put away those wings and take care of us. Well, as much as I appreciate all those "croquetes" you've made grandma, I'd prefer you flying me around the world!!!
Anyway... that little girl, 86 years ago (i won't say 86 and 1/2, because it's good to keep her young) was born in a house, she told me it was after a bridge, a steal bridge, designed by Eifel...

She, and any of us, really imagined that 86 years after, that bridge, the one she claims was very close to her house, would end up collapsing, and being deslocated to the other side of town, or at least, if you stand where the bridge is now... there is no way you'll find that house... so, I decided to call her LIVE... but then I thought maybe it's better, if I have to spend so much money calling home, then I need the call to be efective: I called her sister. She's 10 years younger, almost, and has the memory of my huge exterior hard disk, she's a walking encyclopedia and my "google" for any subject... and I even found out that also her was born in the same house.
I expected the simple confirmation of "yes it's close to the bridge" or "no it's not". But like google, she'll be precise if the subject is interesting. "where are you?... ah, ok, so turn left at the bridge, go to the end of the street, you should find a white tower, it looks like a firemen exercise tower, but instead it was built to be the bell tower of the first Catholic Church of Beira, but apparently was never constructed, way before our time, it's white and it used to have a flag I think, now if you are standing in what seems like the front of it, then you look to the left, and you should see a house with an antique zinc roof..................."

Well, one more minute and I'd practically could've walked in and found my way to the actual bed they were born in... but the it was... still standing... filled with people who evaporated giggling as soon as I asked if they wanted to be in the photo, colors all over the place, but there it was.
I have a picture of my greatgrandfather, and his little girl, sitting on it's front steps... and here I am, 86 years later, standing in front of it's door... was there one???
I guess there are things in life you will never be able to explain to others, things like knowing where people you have grown to love have been... my children will probably never do this trip themselves, they won't probably fly off to Mozambique in search of their mother's, father's, grandparents', uncle's, aunt's, friend's past here, but they will know all the stories I lived, and if one day they come to Antwerp in search of this tiny appartment I'm in, then I want them to feel like this. That in one second, that second... it all made sense.

Beira made sense... it always will.

beira 01

this won't be an easy post to write... too much information and too much pressure on making Beira sound like the best place we were in on our trip. well truth has it's way of creaping up on you and i cannot lie.

if i had to give an Oscar for surprise, then Beira would have it, definetely. It's not a busy, busy city like Maputo, maybe even a bit too stresless, too quiet, too small, but Beira is from another time, Beira wasn't created for 2007, it was made in 1907 and it keeps it's 10' and 20's look.
if you've ever been to Portugal dos Pequeninos in Portugal you'll know what i'm saying when i say that Beira, has a different scale, in all aspects.

I just can't get pass that wonderful smell of fruit trees, of the ocean right at your door step, houses that look old but so charmful, people who smile as you walk by without trying to sell things you'll never use, SUMOL on outside "esplanadas"'s tables, pastéis de nata made in the Riviera, beter than any other i've tasted... except the Belém ones of course (still portuguese!).

Beira is a... feminine city, just like Maputo would by my standards, be without a doubt a much more masculine place. Beira is feminine because when the wind blows, all the trees move like a light 1920's dress would, slowly. Maybe that is because i grew up with no other than 4 Beira women, it should be 5, but my dad's sister was only born there and moved when she was 3 to Lourenço Marques and declares herself completely "laurentina" (she's probably now telling herself that she won't get me anything for my birthday because i just said Beira is better!), and they are from different generations but to me Beira suited them perfectly.

there was another "woman" in Beira that made me sigh, the Central Train Station. well, we had to fight to be able to get these photos, ridiculously I had to use my influent family to be able to go to the director of the station and tell him that his boss allowed me to take photos... and surprising enough it worked. i swear i never used family this way... hmmm actually i did, when i had a blue card that allowed me to park anywhere, but anyway... (can't talk about it). they melted before me and allowed me to be by myself with A.T. in this amazing, empty, simple atrium where probably once had hundreds of people catching trains and now sadly is forgotten. they're doing a very good job in repairing the railway tracks all over Mozambique but the trains still don't move, and to this day there are no "people's trains" in this gigantic country. sadly... i'd prefer having travelled a bit on those trains, my grandfather would've loved it.
soon... i hope soon.

there are a lot of intelectual architectural phrases i could linger on with about this station, but the picture, i believe, speak for themselves. i tried so hard to capture that beautiful emptyness... i can't put all of them in here but maybe once you'll have time to sit with me and look at them carefully.
as i said before the women who grew up with me are from different generations, my grandmother (the pilot) and her sister, my mother and her sister (there a few more but not on a birthday and christmas basis), there are about 30 years separating them, and of course things were probably very different for each, but i bet they saw somethings the same way... or at least the same things... some of which i saw like they still remembered, others not really...

the Cathedral is back to it's original color, (next to the Radio PAX buildind and the Artes e Oficios School, on the radio they use to play "menina salta para as minhas costas"!!! translation by the deejay of the song "baby come back" it used to crack me up when my mom told me this story with "black/protuguese" accent!!!) my mother saw it 3 years ago and it was old and let go, but this year they repaint it and it's pure white, it was nice to get married there, right grandma? my mother's and aunt's former high school is still standing, grandious and still separated between boys and girls, who by the way have kept their side of the building spot clean and tidy. some of the girls asked me a lot of questions about Lisbon, about what it was like for my mother to study there, if i liked Beira, if i'd been to the beach because turists loved the beach eventhough they themselves never go there, if i and my husband (A.T. i presume) had children waiting for us back in Lisbon... and most of all they said something that i will keep forever with me "aaaahhh é tão bonita, parece uma actriz de telenovela"... ya, i know, it's hard for me! (ok, it's not from the cinema, it's just soap opera, but still, the idea was the beautiful part) ;)

i found Aunt Dana Michaelis on a restaurant wall, it's good to see family like that, she's been gone for a while now, but her drawings are spread out amongst art galleries, museums, family houses and in our hearts. it was amazing to see such a beautiful drawing, from one of her best works, the Mozambique collection in pen drawing.

and of course other buildings around town, where people use to shop, where people use to take sunday walks, such as the municipal square, or the walk toward the lighthouse where now a few abbandoned buildings creep up on you, and the mitical Grande Hotel, with it's own world inside, noone knows how many people now live there, but i counted from my far away standing point at least 5 trees, green and small, still, but so strong growing in between the walls of this massif building. apparently it use to be luxurious, it use to be magnificent, it didn't last long, the pool though, where now people wash their clothes in the water that is provided by the rain, was of public domain, but the building itself was always meant for the rich, well, i guess you should laugh at the contradictions of life sometimes, but this times, it's scary.

you wonder how they survive, the building eventhough still standing tall is loosing it's imponence, it's dying, the structure will one day give in, it windows are gone, the corridors bare, rats live amongst humans and you imagine what will happen... looking at it i knew in my heart we have to find a solution soon, those people one day will need something else, there are now 3 generations already living or have lived there, intire families, children who know nothing else. is there a sure solution? i have no clue, i hope maybe COOPI.it can help us find something to do, maybe they'll have ways of making it better. and i wanna go!

praia do tofinho

one advice... experience speaking: whenever you travel and there are people you know who you will visit and they happen to say "i heard you're travelling north towards Beira, if you'd like you can sleep half way in a house i have at the beach"

ALWAYS, i repeat, ALWAYS accept it!
i don't know if i've made myself clear on this, you should never think twice, ok so there are sometimes really bad surprises (i will make sure you know of a bad result later on in the holiday report), but mostly, it's free, which means GOOD, and most of the time, cosy... well... after Xai-xai i could only hope it'd get better, because i regretted not having stayed there for a week.

but, how shall i put this... i'll explain it this way. I'm driving, tired, exhausted, because i haven't told you how hard it is to drive in Mozambique, not for the lions and elephants crossing my path (those i could probably handle) but because of the grand canyons in the middle of road that just happen to be in my way right after a slope or a turn... so we'd fall, feel our stomachs detatch from our bodies, think we were dead, realise we weren't and congratulate me for being such a great driver! i also had to deal with another type of creature, popping out of everywhere, CHILDREN... i think in the 3244km i drove with my "FÔBÁFÔ" i didn't drive for more than 5km without seeing people on the road side... walking, and walking, and walking... i wondered where they were going... but they walked for miles i believe, kms i mean. anyway... children are let out free. this doesn't mean i think children should be put on a leash, it means they should know the difference between laying down on a corn field enjoying the "dolce fare niente" and laying down in the middle of the asphalt, i mean the road! i had to use my horn to scare chickens, goats, turkeys (who by the way suffer from deafness i believe), cows, "pumbas" (watch the lion king), monkeys, and the scariest of all, human beings. "if i was your mom..." i'd yell... no use... it's like in Antwerp, trams rule the streets, but in Mozambique, children do!
...of course... when i'd get close to them angry because i thought i'd kill them, A.T. knew i was just making plans as to adopt them or not. i swear, if there were no laws, i'd have a football team here by now.

....oooohhhh sooo off the subject.
so, you accept this offer of a place to sleep for a few nights... hoping it's close to the water, at least. but because of the "highways" and the fact that "FÔBÁFÔs" could indeed be slower than you'd hope, they just drive through anything, making your promises of arriving anywhere before the sun goes down (17:30!!!! making the children on the road scarrier than ever) a complete failure. and there we were, in the middle of this sand dune road, 18:30, pitch dark, eyes and teeth the only thing you could identify in the dark, panic because there are no lights on the road and you know people are waiting for you. Sr. Manuel waited for us...
as soons as i turned off the engine i was off to the dinner table, and then bed. the bed part i leave out because i can't describe all the squishy creatures i found in that house... i hate animals smaller than cats!
even knowing of all the creepy things that were crawling around our mosquito-net-protected-bed the only thing that actually annoyed me throughout the night, was this thundering sound of waves crashing on the beach... i can't believe this but in that pitch dark night, i could only say "i hate being so close to the ocean"!!!

well... well... the night went and morning came (at 6:00a.m.) and fate has it that i don't fall asleep after my eyes open. let's take a walk outside and see what awaits us...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!! breath, breathe... 1,2,3,4,5, AAAAAAA. TTTTTTTT!!!!!!!! i know he hates it, but he had to look out the window... the ocean wasn't far away, it was below our feet!!!!!!!

kms of beach, empty...

the sun looked as if it was there to please ME,

the dogs were there to befriend A.T.,

the CAPULANA's market was put there for us,

the fish we ate for days were created for US...

and i could feel that those amazing sunsets were sent by you...

(i know you wanna know, the word "FÔBÁFÔ" is a new word in my vocabulary, it should mean QUATRO POR QUATRO, but if you translate it to english FOUR BY FOUR and slightly... actually no, completely add to it a portughese/mozambican accent, you get something like "FÔBÁFÔ"... remember the "FOGE DE LÁ"?, well, that's my life story i guess, people speak to me knowing i will eventually know what tey're saying... it takes effort though. )

xai-xai

when i was a kid, my winter holidays were spent in Lisbon.
when i was a kid, my winters were cold.
when i was a kid my christmas day i wore a sweater... and tights, and boots, and a coat.
when i was a kid, my new year's eve, when i was allowed to stay awake, was freezing cold (well at the time i thought that was the coldest i'd live), but everything was in Lisbon.

my daddy, on the other hand, spent his winter holidays in Xai-Xai.
my daddy would drive north out of Lourenço Marques, enter the Province of Gaza, probably like us buy some cajunuts on the way by the road (or probably not, but by the way they're yummy), cross the Limpopo river bridge (you only pay it on the way south) and arrive to a little paradise on a hill where the horizon is very far away.
my daddy as a kid had his summer holidays in what would later be my winter.
my daddy as a kid spent his christmas days swimming in the Indian Ocean.
my daddy as a kid would transfer to Xai-Xai to the little house on the hill built by his daddy.
my daddy... (uffa, how frustrating...) was allowed to be awake on New Year's Eve, the Xai-Xai hotel looking over on the great big ocean, and kms of sand would probably help you make childish dreams and hopes for the new year come true...

jeaulous?

yes daddy, i am... i was and now i'm even more. no matter how abbandoned the hotel looked, and how many times you'll tell me, "it was different in those days" i'm still jeaulous. the house is still there, i saw it, i for 10 minutes stood in that garden and saw the Indian Ocean just like i believe you had back in the days... i loved it...

no house in the Algarve will ever have that effect. and no Christmas holiday in Portugal will ever be like those you lived in Xai-Xai.

by the way... maybe we could just buy the house from whoever has it now and just move there, all of us... we could live off of the fishes A.T. catches, and my children would have the same images you had.
i'll make the plans, you convince grandma!