Category: Topical

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Change is a coming…

Mozambique recently enjoyed Municipal elections. 

The run up to this day is quite festive. A reason to play loud music and drive around waving flags really. 

The party that leads in our province has a chicken as their emblem. The other parties seem to have more ‘call to arms’ emblems, but we have a quite noble looking chook. 

The guy who started the party must have had a particularly memorable KFC dinner maybe. An historian, I ain’t. 

If you are planning to resurrect as a chicken, my advice would be not to do it in Mozambique. Not a fun place for chickens. Most of their time is spent hanging upside down and being offered for sale. And then slowly roasted over a long suffering truck driver’s fire while he spends the better part of a week trying to cross some border or the other. Not really sure who should get the most sympathy really. Not an easy life for either I suspect.

We foreigners, of course, do not get a vote. So our vote, on the imposed holiday, goes to a boozy lunch. It’s a win for sure, and worth waving a flag for.

Of course there is unhappiness with the vote outcome in some provinces. I’m not quite sure why they bother with elections in Africa. Aaah yes, it’s a democracy. 

But, I can report there is positive change… I slipped a guy a ‘spot fine’ for the speeding he insisted I was doing and he said it was too much and gave me change. 

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No, I don’t

McDonald’s are launching wedding package specials, did you see?

For less than $250, you can feed 100 guests.

If ever there was a call to action….

This is not it.

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I like your package

Is it just me, or do you also loathe packaging?

Apart from the obvious that it’s mostly all plastic, it’s largely impenetrable isn’t it? And often seems unnecessary and an overkill.

I’m a bit of a shopper. it’s my one talent really. Random spending. But, inevitably, anything new comes in packaging that you have to wrestle off. Take Take A Lot for instance. Those people, bless them, give extra thought to packaging because, presumably, the goods have to survive transportation. So, there is re-packaging in a lot of cases. Not that this always helps. Possibly because my order is then put on a donkey cart or something similar and driven over less than attractive roads to me.

A face wash I ordered recently arrived burst. (Yes, there is face wash here before you ask, we are not a nation of dirty faces). But, I was tempted in this case because it was a charcoal face wash, and I just can’t resist a charcoal anything really. Charcoal is so versatile don’t you find. Like bicarb and coconut oil. There must be 100 uses for these products. Must Google it. I take great comfort knowing that if I ever suspect I have been poisoned, I can just chug down my face wash and I am likely to survive the ordeal.

Back to the packaging. It’s that hard plastic shell that kills me the most. I really have to gird my loins when stuff arrives in that. I ponder on that movie Tom Hanks starred in where he was washed up on a deserted island and his only companion was the American football Wilson (or was it a rugby ball, is there a difference?). Anyway, what if Wilson had arrived in a hard plastic shell? And also washed up with him was a scissor in a hard plastic shell. The movie would not have done as well I’m sure. We would have all been gnashing our teeth in frustration.

Some years ago I met someone in the packaging industry. It was quite fascinating to hear her speak about it because it’s actually very complex and very competitive. Lots of math goes into packaging. She was absolutely fabulous. Hysterical really, very entertaining and great company.

But, that’s how psychopaths are aren’t they? Engaging and charming. Because really, this must be one of the criteria required to be in the industry, to be a complete sadist.

I’m sure she’s the exception.

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What’s in a name?

There is a company called Truegrid that, for some reason, comes up on my social media feed occasionally. Who knows how these algorithms work.

I don’t know what the company does, but every time it comes up, I read it as Turgid and have a little juvenile giggle.

I know. Not admirable. Perhaps I’m dyslexic. Clearly I’m immature.

And, I am not in a position to judge a name because I named the consulting company I opened once as Acumen Online.

I ran this by a friend (not seriously though, I’d already made up my mind), and he gently said..

‘Don’t you think that is a bit of a mouthful? And does everyone know the word Acumen? And… are you sure you have it?’

Anyway, he was ignored and I ploughed on (as is my way). You don’t need any acumen to be stubborn.

And, it hasn’t been easy.

Acumen is NOT a well known word. Go figure? And then I chose to operate in Mozambique and they were like wot?

I can’t tell you the pain of explaining ROSEMARY as my first name (we all had to settle on Rosa Maria), then POTGIETER as my surname (at the time it was the surname on my passport and therefore the surname in Mozambique), To be honest, I never really got my tongue around Potgieter even. And then (good Lord), my company name as Acumen Online.

A whole lot of people just couldn’t. I barely could.

This year, I’m going to try and take advice.

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An honest mistake

Did you hear about the below story…..

A fellow didn’t realise his wife had also got out the car to ablute and drove off. For 160km before he realised she was actually NOT sleeping in the back anymore.

She was left, in the dark, in Thailand. With nothing but perhaps damp panties.

http://702.co.za/articles/463400/til-abonnement-do-us-part-man-drives-off-without-wife-thinks-she-s-in-the-car

I had a husband that did this to me. This was my pre she-wee days. So, there I was, trying to discreetly do my business beside the car. Hoping to not wee on my shoes or be seen by any passer by.

And he drove off. Leaving me fully exposed of course. Funny guy.

Keep the keys is my advice.

We are divorced now.

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Somebody save me

We went for a walk on the beach in Beira. You have to plan this around low tide in Beira. The beach is, sadly, not the cleanest, and requires the pulling in of all that rubbish by the backwash. (Yes, Gretha would actually just fall down in a weeping mess if she ever visited here). Secondly, the beach slopes, and unless you have two severely different leg lengths, it’s terribly uncomfortable to walk for any distance.

And then, of course, if low tide occurs during the heat of the day, any idea of going for a stroll should be immediately discarded.

We managed to venture out at the relatively reasonable hour of 8am. (We actually should only have gone at 08h30… but my lovely man likes to be early for everything). Being early for anything in Mozambique is actually not a good idea, because you usually find yourself alone in your punctuality.

I digress…

On a Sunday, there are usually Church services (and soccer games), happening on the beach. In amongst the debris from the Saturday night party of course. Alcohol is not allowed on Mozambique beaches, but this law is not ever evident from the broken bottles to be found at any given time.

I digress…

Oh look, my lovely man announced, they are baptizing someone. And indeed, there was much shouting and singing and what appeared to be the public drowning of some poor woman.

Baptism in the Beira sea shallows is not for sissies. However, it appears that the banishing of any demons is guaranteed. Standing on the beach observing, we too felt cleansed of our sins. The woman being blessed was not, it appeared, given much time to catch a breath of air between her repeated dunks. There was a LOT to be said about the matter it was obvious, and all of it to the rhythm of repeatedly pushing her under, pulling her out, pushing her under.

The crowd sang on encouragingly. She must have been thinking ‘Just as well I’m being baptized, because the end is nigh.’ Like now.

It this what water boarding is like I asked my lovely man.

It looked to be over… but actually.. a close friend was just removing her…. to deeper water…

I think we should leave I suggested, before we are asked to be witnesses to a crime scene.