Raf's Travel Diaries

Attachment. Detachment. The wakening of feelings of belonging. It gets stronger as I come back yet again. I try to ignore them. This is not my place. This can't be my place. A place in which I suffered and hated so much. It can't be. Yet I can't wait to come back again. Good memories of my childhood. This might be my place. Known faces greet me . It's my choice. Or is it? It can't be. I try to remind myself of the impotence I used to feel. I don't choose it. Those feelings seem so far away and unsignificant. I don't want to choose it. Yet somehow I do. Basic feelings of belonging. Raf (Can't control the desire to be everywhere). *In Tsonga, Changana Dialect it means white and refers to white people.

In Mozambique it's an unstoppable chain, linked by chronic ignorance, poverty beyond inhumane and sealed together by the hope of superstition. Raf T.I.A.

-Pssst! -Olaaa... -Psss, psss, pssst. -Ola -tch!tch! -tsssssss...tssss. -Ey, ey, ey voce! -Capulana bem bonita pra a menina, bom pre ç o. Leva-la... -Elo - to'apedir -Mtch! -Pssst! Pssst! Raf

They've been following me for weeks as if trying to challenge my joyful mood. Keep trying for all I care. Raf (still hoping to see some sun)

Traducción al Castellano abajo. Ishhhh! 7 days VERY out of the ordinary. For starters, the place is called Morrungulo. It's 7/8 hr drive from Maputo. And not a normal drive but a bumpy and muddy one, with suicide chapas (local public transport). The closer you get to Morrungulo, the worse the road gets. When you are about 14 km away you take a turn and have to try and find your way through the red mud and holes (not to say crates). But once you get to the camp site you realize it seems like it might have been worth it.  And once you get to the beach, you know so.  You are isolated from everything: cellphones don't work, let alone internet connexion (I didn't even bother taking my laptop), no newspaper, no direct roads or commercial ones, no stores except for 3 local bread shops (please do check the picture beneath) and a palhota (for those who don't know it's a shack made out of straw and cane, like the one in the bakery picture) with local wooden souvenirs. The loc