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.