On a mission to get out of Luanda…
Saturday was wonderful, but it was still a day spent in the city of Luanda, and after 3 weeks of patience and tolerance, I needed to escape, somehow. So, I called Kasia and Ian, hoping to squeeze into their car headed to some surfers’ beach about 2 hours south of town. I NEEDED to be in that car. So, when they texted back to be ready for a 9a pick up, I was all packed and sitting excitedly at 8:45! As most things move here, they arrived at 10a and I cheerfully wedge myself next to the surfboard in the back seat. You would have thought I had just been let out of prison the way I was gawking at each new scene.
Finally! New Vistas!!!
Just on the other side of the Fortaleza, we encountered a slum area literally and precariously built on a hillside. One can imagine that in a heavy rain, the mound, along with the shacks and the people inside, would just come tumbling down. And, in fact this is just what happened a few months back. Normally, about 3-5 houses come down each year. This time about 50 houses did. And yet, the next row of houses stands at the edge, like obedient soldiers waiting to go to the frontlines of battle. (Is this another question of what one perceives to be under their control?)
A few more miles into the ’suburbs’ and we happen upon these Truman Show-like scenes - barbed wired communities that look perfect - like Desperate Housewives. And, I’m told that they are compounds for employees of large companies - mostly oil. Hmmmm… Then in Belfica, we find the artisan’s market, which I am eager to explore (once I have a home). I’m told that Sunday afternoon, at the end of the weekend is the best time to go and shop for bargains. I’m ready!!
Soon, we break free from the stop and start of city life and trade it in for the wide expanses of nature. Ahhhh - I felt like I could breath again. It was a wonderful feeling, and one that made me decide that I NEED a car that can explore outside of the city (and dodge the absurd potholes in the city). This, I am determined, will be a weekly routine, to get out of Luanda. Now, for those of you with the safety question on the brain, I can assure you that this road is safe (as in it’s in relatively good condition, there are no landmines in the area, and no bandits). Apparently, sometimes the police erect checkpoints but I have yet to be stopped for anything here, although….I will be glad to have something called a Carta Diplomatica in my hands, which apparently gets one out of jams, if ever…
Feelin’ Groovy…
We ride along and I’m getting the weekend sensations that I’ve become accustomed to since the days of climbing in California - the feeling of freedom on the road, of simple scenes, of natural adventure. The beaches of the coastline begin to show themselves and I am feeling groovy ;). About 2/3 of the way to Campo Ledo, we stop to pay the bridge toll (Was I in New Jersey?). The river we cross is beautiful (don’t know the name) and I am assured that the bridge is solid (it looks good!). There are a few birds flying overhead, but this is the only wildlife left in the country. The rest have been killed by landmines, or eaten during the civil war (I guess 27 years IS a long time for a war). So, there isn’t roadkill or quick glimpses of big creatures to be had. We make a sharp right onto the dirt road which leads us to the beach. It’s full of expat-looking people and it is gorgeous. It’s my kind of beach - clean, simple, long and not too crowded. I am eager to get into the water, but Kasia warns me that it’s cold. I inform her that the Pacific is a much colder ocean than the Atlantic, but as temperature is experienced in relative terms, this doesn’t mean much to her.
Lazy afternoon
Once we plop our things down next to Isabelle, Teddy and Laurent, the french petrol contingent, we head for the ocean where I am impatient to jump in. Kasia’s right, it’s pretty cold (not the tropical water I was hoping for) but nevertheless, it felt wonderful and I am not shy about enjoying the water like a seal. The waves are manageable and I feel re-energized down to my toes. I also notice that, despite the sprinkling of people on the beach (about 3 dozen or so), I’m the only one swimming. Ummm, did I not get the memo? But since there are surfers in the water, I decide that I’m happy to be the strange brown girl frolicking in the waves.
I head back to the towel for a rest and bite to eat, but soon grow restless. The book wasn’t satisfying, so I go for a run along the shore. My god. This is it. I’ve discovered how to make the next year tolerable and even good - I need to get to the beach and run. It was the sort of run where instead of getting progressively tired, I was progressively gaining strength and speed, and it felt fantastic. The two months of respite before coming to Angola have paid off, it seems. Once I was back among the crowds, I dunked my head again this time feeling refreshed by the cool water. While the others were trying their luck with the ‘fishing stick’ and the surfboard, I managed to find a few people to pepper with (practice volleyball). At 4p, by the time we head back up the dreadfully unpaved road to the highway, I have already had the best day so far. But, there was more yet to come. On the ride back, I saw scenes that I somehow missed on the way down! One was this grassland area with a river snaking through it. It reminded me of a place called Cheesequake State Park in New Jersey where Ed will one day drop his kayak in and explore!!!
Shopping Experience!
Finally, back among the people, we head to an area called Luanda Sul, and I swear to God - it looks like a suburb of Los Angeles - complete with a new mall (see flickr pictures), several master-planned communities packed with HUGE homes, and new, wide streets which have barely been used. They tell me that there’s still land grabbing going on in these parts - companies plop down and just start building. That’s wild. Apparently, in this part of town, which is actually 13 km outside of the city center, where I live and work, there are no problems with electricity, water and such, but the commute could take 2 hours. Holy hell. Forget it.
The mall was fun, just for a change of scenery. They even have a food court and a cinema. It’s funny to see movies like Harry Potter and Oceans 13 with other unrecognizable titles. And, it’s more expensive to watch movies here than in NYC!! But I was really happy to be in the Shop Rite market. It’s got good stock, decent prices, and it’s clean. Can’t ask for more (well, I can’t here, anyway). Iain and Kasia load up on goodies for their post-wedding bash next weekend, and I pick up a few comfort items (Tang!!). I try to buy some fresh bread, but somewhere in the translation, she thought I meant 3 bags of 5 pieces each! After she handed me the first bag of 5, I ran away a bit flustered and unsure about what to do with all the carbs…
Winding Down
On the way out, we run into some UN colleagues (this must be THE place for Sunday shopping). We get back to town (which took 50 minutes!) to enjoy a bit of dinner with Isabelle and Teddy in the Total company compound (French oil company). The apartments are large, safe and totally secure. As we walk into her place, I immediately recognize the music as Jarabe de Palo, a great Spanish band from Barcelona (ahhh, those were good times!). Isa prepares a nice quiche while we sip on some white wine and munch on saucisson (yummy!). It was a lovely ending to my best day ever. xxCelina
