#chicualacuala

The next day we took care of a little business, or bidneth as we call it. Emma did laundry and Ahron did taxes. With a combined refund totaling over $3k, we got our tickets to Thailand and our Volunteering in Kenya paid for! After a celebratory dance, we walked back over to the FEMA Market to find some gifts. As the search for a painting wore on, the sky opened up and a downpour ensued. This, so you know, is the best time to haggle for a good price on art. As the painter is trying to pack everything away, they will give you what you want for any price you offer; it’s nice. After getting our gift, we stood under the shelter of the craft building for an hour waiting for the rain to pass. Later back at the bat cave, Ahron MacGyver’d a frame out of a stick, two rocks and a string and we had the painting hanging in no time and our gift to our host was complete. Andre got off of work shortly after.

We made a plan with Alex, the guy from the caipirinha party, to meet up for dinner and drinks and that is what we did. He picked us up from Andre’s and we headed to a small bar around the corner from his house for beers and piri-piri chicken livers. We were only there for an hour or so before the bar decided they wanted to close since business was slow. Alex grabbed 12 pack of road beers and a half bottle of Johnny Walker Red Road Whiskey and we walked back around the corner to his apartment to whip up some more food. Once inside we decided to partake in a little bit of the Walker. This was most likely not real authentic whisky. I say this because the taste was far from the smoky peaty taste you expect of scotch. This was more of a paint thinner died brown taste. Regardless, it had the desired effects and in no time Alex was frying pork chops and reheating pasta his cleaning lady made earlier for us to feast on.  I stepped in for a second to watch the food while Alex poured more kerosene shots, while Emma and Andre were hanging at the table taking their time sipping theirs. The evening ended when Johnnie stopped walking. We left Alex, making sure to set up the next play date for him and Andre, and started walking ourselves back home to prepare for the adventure awaiting us the next day.

The 5th of March will forever be a day that Emma and I never forget. We woke up just like usual and packed our bags just like 20+ times before. We headed out the door about 10:04. Caught a chappella down to the train station and hopped in the queue. We were getting tickets to the border. When we approached the counter, the lady behind the desk informed us that there was no first class on the train leaving that day. No problem we said, what about second. No, no second; only third. Only third? No problem, we half expected this so we were half ready for it…or so we thought. We bought the tickets and met Andre for one final meal before our 13:00 departure, ironically at the place we first met him the day we arrived. We snagged a quick cup of coffee and said goodbye to our friend before heading back to the station. Once we returned, we had a warm welcome from a security guard that we had briefly befriended before buying tickets, and thanks to him he had reserved us seats. Not that it really mattered however since the train was fully booked and there was three to each bench, plus people on the floor and other people hanging by the doors. We didn’t know this at first. We got to our seats and were very excited that we had the bench to ourselves. Luxury we thought. A few hours later as the train rolled out of a rainy gloomy Maputo. We were crammed into our bench next to a nice old granny, and a rude, big, sleepy, giant fat momma. The momma happened to be next to Ahron, and it happened that his shoulders are just wide enough to allow her to rest her armpit on them. Emma meanwhile had space between her and the sweet grandma, unfortunately, the big momma’s feet were tired and they were resting between the two. It also did not help that the loaf of bread that gigantour devoured just before departure put her to sleep like warm milk to a baby.  This was to be the seating situation for the next ten hours. 

Other than being the only white people on the train, and having eyes tuned on us for the duration of the trip watching us do everything from drink water to play Uno for what seemed like entertainment, the first seven or so hours were really quite entertaining. There was a group of guys at the end of the train who were drinking white spirits (gin?) and singing and dancing, at first in their corner, then down the isle of the car trying to collect money. Well good things can’t last and eventfully the jovial youths started fighting each other. During said fight a baby was thrown to Emma to protect it from shoulders and fists that were flying. The security guard in the car got hit, and then calmly separated the angry guys. After a while the antagonist returned, apologized to the security guard and then passed out under our seats. He provided further entertainment by giving Ahron a nice game of footsie to play until the morning. Somewhere around two or three in the morning, everyone on Emma’s bench got off, so I moved over there to get away from Godzilla. We had the dream that we could put our feet up on the bench across from us and finally get some nice shut eye, but we underestimated the selfishness of the momma, and as soon as I moved, she sprawled across the bench, looking like a beached whale. We tried to communicate that that was messed up of her; no use, so we put our feet on her for a little while. We arrived in Chicualacuala at the border at 07:30, eyes blood shot and very very groggy. Diony, our friendly security guard found us, and after asking how our time was, he kindly got us up into the one and only building in the area which has a hotel/breakfast part upstairs away from the people we just spent way too much time with. There we dined, and washed our faces and sat down to relax. There happened to be two other gentlemen in the dining area with us drinking beers that morning, Noel and Costa.  We started chatting to them and found out that they were Zimbabwean boarder police. What they were doing there exactly was very unclear. We could not make out if they were there for business or pleasure but the mix of beer drinking and people meeting them and handing over wads of cash makes me think it was a little of both. We never clarified this.

 After a quick walk around town, where there was nothing to see, we came back and found N&C, slightly more inebriated, and more friendly offering to show us the sights of the town. We ended up at a pub drinking beers, then back at the hotel/restaurant drinking beers, then finally making it across the border, drinking road beers along the way. Once we crossed, we had a soda because the ladies with the coolers did not have any beers. Finally at about 18:00 the train to Bulawayo arrived and we hopped on. This time we got 1st Class, which was our own compartment with three beds a mirror and a wash basin, for the low low price of $36 USD. We had to buy the extra bed since we are a couple. The train car had to have been circa 1950’s Rhodesian Railways, with wood paneling and gold RR insets all over the place. You could tell that it had once been beautiful, but after years of use and abuse, it was pretty worn down, but still perfectly functional, which is all it needs to be. I wandered down to dining car to check out what was for dinner and guess who I found at the bar? Noel; No, he was not going to Bulawayo, just drinking until the train left since there was no other bar on the Zim side. I enjoyed a dollar Zambezi with him, and got him one since he helped me “organize” our compartment with the train conductor. It was very strange having to use American Dollars again. After the beer, I made it back to Emz. We had dinner when it was ready which consisted of beef chunks, nshima, and saltza. We were in bed and asleep as soon as we were back from dinner since we had no sleep the night before.