“Sweets! Sweeets! Sweeets!” We've crossed the border into Mozambique and immediately hit what seem to be lonely dirt roads. We are in the middle of nowhere. So... Where did all of these children come from? I can't help but wave back to them. And wave again, and again, and again. Today I'm in the very back of the Landie, and I'm feeling as if I've sat down in a washing machine. It was fun at first, but the Aussies and I are getting bounced to bits. Sand roads = peaks, valleys, ditches. Nonetheless, we wave until our arms are sore. The smiling children wave, and yell. “Mzungu! Sweets!” Here we are, bumping through the middle of the bush – sand roads, no other cars – just villages, trees, goats and brush fires... and you see a mzungu (aka 'rich white ghost') and expect sweets? Let me at the predecessors... You have very little clean water, no electricity, and probably are fairly sick of nsima. I guess I'd love a chocolate bar too, but all I have is dried fruit, beer, and cans of beans. No sweets. So I smile and wave. And keep on bouncing...
Dusk is advancing, so it's time to pull off the 'road' and make camp. First attempt - drive up a dry riverbed & lower our chances of hitting a land mine. Within 45 seconds, the Landie gets stuck in a pile of sand. So we dig, and push and pull. No luck. The sun is dropping. The village shows up to watch, including the cattle. In the end, we are saved by the winch and a nearby tree. We collect some firewood, give some dried mango to the watching girls (who finally smile), and are on our way. Just as the sun sets, we find a clearing under some larger trees just far enough off the road. And no land mines. I awake to a wild eagle sitting on the Landie. We name him Jeffery & take him under our wing. He's gotten kicked out of his nest and can't fly or eat for himself. So we shove some raw pork down his throat, make him a nest, and have ourselves a stowaway. In the back I go to eagle-sit... & bounce!
Combining a passion for travel, the desire to make a difference & a love of maps, MaggieMaps was born.
Unless otherwise noted, all prose, poetry, maps and photography posted on this blog are Copyright 2013 Maggie Maps
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