The beginning

Touchdown in New York. And London. And Johannesburg. And finally Maputo, Mozambique. I don't know if traveling to southern Africa is ever quick and it certainly wasn't for us. Especially when you come from Bozeman, Montana. But we arrived and met my brother Zach (his superior blog is linked on the sidebar) . Home doesn't seem so far away when your brother is a local in this foreign land. He's calm and knowledgeable and speaks Portugese while I struggle to absorb the feeling of "other." I can't shake the fact or feeling of being a spectacle as a white man walking down the street. It doesn't help that we're a group of five white people with cameras and poorly hidden money pouches.

I've taken college classes and read many excellent books about Africa. I've talked in depth with people who have lived and traveled around the continent and yet I can't shake the movie version of Africa from my head. By which I mean the dark, dangerous, scary Africa. I find myself standing in a local coffee shop guarding my pockets against theft and nervously looking behind my back. I analyze people in the streets as potential pickpockets. This isn't how I want to act but it's hard to turn off the fear as I'm assaulted by new sights, sounds, and pungent smells.

After a few days I'm able to get into my "traveling head", where I feel more comfortable and relaxed walking through a chaotic city. I build a psychological shell to ward off the five men insistently selling me the same DVDs all at once or the man walking backwards while showing me infinite styles of sunglasses, despite the fact that I'm already wearing sunglasses. Responding to these overtures in even the slightest form, such as eye contact or saying "no" in my strong voice, only causes the vendors to redouble their efforts...for at least two more blocks. I wish I could build a physical shell to ward off the cars and chapas that drive at breakneck speed on the left side of the road, which is where they're supposed to be but where I'm still surprised to find them. I have a heightened awareness of my personal space (because security is certainly an issue, as evidenced by the private security guards outside every bank, hotel, and decent shop) but it isn't clouding my experiences as at first.

The city of Maputo is large and sprawling. I think it's fairly representative of cities in developing countries with lots of smelly trash, unpredictably ripped up streets and sidewalks, rundown buildings, and gleaming highrises. Women sit at tables on the side of the road brushing flies off the seafood they're selling and nobody ever has change for any bills, no matter how small. There's bustle and energy and I know that in five or ten years this city will have experienced a complete makeover. As I start to smile strangers smile back and sometimes poke fun at me gently. Language is a challenge since my Portugese is limited to the basics.