But first – Mozambique. Getting there in pouring rain, that turned the national coastal road into a slippery slide of sloshy mud and potholes with drop-offs alongside to give you a full rush of vertigo. A narrow navigable strip in the center that had to be vied for with massive growling juggernauts hurtling confidently towards us. It was slow going, and it got dark, and the adventure would have gripped the imagination of any Play Station addict. But we made it. The rain became drizzle, the mud cleared and the traffic lessened as we drove further north.
Five hours on a bush track, and we were there. The warm sun sweeping away the remaining clouds, and the wide vista of aqua blues poured balm on knotted shoulders and necks. Paradise found.
First things first – down the boardwalk to the soft white sand. Dip toes in gentle silky wavelets. Greet the hermit crabs labouring through sand under water – leaving a tracery of tracks in dappled sunlight. Watch out for the sunglass stealing fish – who are there in gangs and leap from the water at a moments notice. Breathe deeply, and again, slow the pace.
Days of Dhow Jones Cruising lay ahead but first we must deliver the boxes of donated school books, stationary, toys, pencils and crayons – lovingly compiled by Geli of Letters from Usedom, who has been supporting the primary school in Morape village in this way for the past seven years. School had closed for the holidays, but word was sent around and many of the children showed up to meet us at the school.
Thanks Geli!!!
The school is currently a loosely fenced area of sand with a series of classrooms in various states of disrepair. The main school room having been destroyed in the cyclone three years ago. These kids have very little in terms of learning aids, but have no shortage of energy and enthusiasm – especially when it came to the two footballs that tumbled out of one of the boxes! Thanks to the wonderful efforts of our friends in the blogosphere, we will be able to rebuild one of these school rooms in the new year – with a tin roof, cement floor, and real solid walls.
one of the classrooms
this little girl arrived late having run all the way in her best dress
The gesture sounds simple, but it is no small feat organizing logistics, transport of materials by dhow across the bay; getting the approval and co-operation of the Chief, and village elders, and and..but we persevere and at last it looks do-able especially as the fathers of the children now seem willing to participate and assist where they can with labour, moving materials, gathering local materials and so on. It is wonderful to see their enthusiasm and interest.
On the way back from school we stopped to buy coconuts; and Dhow Jones came over the horizon. She has a motor now – an on board that sounds a lot like a tractor but can get you home when the wind drops or blows the wrong way.
She took us to islands of dreams – white sand dunes emerging from turquoise seas; she showed us turtles and dolphins and even a dugong. Gazing down into the giant aquarium seas watching starfish or many colours drift slowly by. When we were cooked, thirsty, tired and salty, she brought us safely back to camp backlit by technicolour sunsets, or later lit by soft moonlight on gentle water.
