Angola, March 2007
"I have a room in Africa..."
I have a room in Africa at the Marinha hotel in Luanda, the capital of Angola. It is large with brown wood floors, a bouncy spring bed and a big closet. I decided to roll up the three little carpets near the bed because all the dirts and hair stuck on them seemed to be crawling on my feet. The bathroom had running water yesterday and today, with hot water too. This seems like such a treat having been told that the water and electricity often goes without notice. And the water was hot which i am also taking as a treat. But yesterday was hot, very hot, hot like Shanghai - Panama - India summers where the sun belts down on your head like it is digging for treasure.
So much to tell you from this tiny little computer room in the hotel that has no windows but is cool as the AC machine buzzes away in the background.
Angola is poor and the city of Luanda is like one big urban slum. You can tell the Chinese are here...there are two glass office towers under construction in the main downtown area. I could only tell that it is a downtown because the old bank buildings are there and you can see three beautiful colonial Portuguese style Ministry buildings that seem to have been painted just recently. But the streets are dusty, full of potholes and the people all look tired...looking for a break. this place looks like the poorest areas of Panama and Guayaquil only much more vast.
When I flew into Joburg two days ago I thought I was landing in Canada...it was suburbs all around. The trees and fields were lovely green as far as my eyes could see from the large modern highway we zipped along. My cousin's house is in the ´rich white suburbs´ as she describes it and her house is a mini-resort with a pool and incredible garden, compliments of the Canadian Government...the house comes with her husband's job
Here in Luanda, in my room in Africa, I am in a state of mind that will encourage my work. The view from my first floor balcony is of a large urban slum but definitely not the worst here. From what I can see people live in concrete or shack-like homes. There are a few cars on the outskirts and some small white satellites on the roofs. Like Panama, lively music,salsa and reggae, is blaring, children are running in the streets and women are carrying heavy loads, doing chores and dumping dirty water in a common space in the middle of the road. Some men hang around on small stools speaking loudly, some playing a game and some just hanging out.
Today is Sunday and I went to Church without leaving my room. On the other side of the dirt, potholed street, that i can see from my balcony, is a beautiful pale blue Church, colonial stlye that also looks like it was painted recently. From the shower I could hear the priest givng the Catholic sermon in Portguese but what most filled me with peace was the singing...oh the music is like that from the movie The Mission....ironically a film about the Portuguese and Spanish colonizers and Jesuit priests in Brazil. I guess the Church was full because the in front of the entrance and side doors ladies in bright colored Sunday bests and men in shirts and pants sat in white plastic chairs, only rising as sing along or as the priest asked them to say the Our Father.
It has been a few years since I woke up to the sound of the rooster...now I remember why I wanted to break its neck in Ecuador...ahhh! Since 5 am, before the sun came up the rooster made its presence known. By 6am the sun was sneaking into my room and I decided to start my day with a swim. The air was fresh and no one was in the open concrete courtyard or the tiny pool that I see from my balcony. Then all of a sudden three people, just to make me miss home, three Chinese sat at a table...and how did I know they were Chinese and not some other Asian ethnicity..that unforgettable sound they make when they clear their throats and spit shamelessly...ahh yes China was here too. actually my newest colleague and friend Roshni (we hit it off like sisters waiting in line at the airport for an hour) told me there are more than 40,000 Chinese in Angola, mostly in the smaller cities.
Back to the pool where the water was, um letºs say not clear..I thought my goggles were broken when i started my laps because I could not see thought the water...was I in a swamp? no but it looked murky..no matter I felt alive in the cool water with the lovely clear blue sky above, green palm trees and bright pink Boganvilla flowers. You know, it seems like the only things that are run down, rusting, molding or crumbling are the man made things.
The hotel has a 1970s facade. Seems like the bed spread is from the same decade..I removed it not to feel queasy. But after getting over the crawly things in the carpet and the dead cat smell that seems to come once in a while from the pipes I look out at the view and remember why I am here. As i ate my greasy breakfast I was grateful for the coffee I drank thinking that on the other side of the concrete wall in front of me I was sure no one was drinking such delicious coffee and probably did not have a hot shower after a refreshing swim as I did this morning. Now the shabby hotel and the room I have in Africa seem like a palace.
Outside the concrete open space along the potholed dirt road beside the shabby slum there is a small local grocery store that I am dying to check out...but not alone. I am not to leave the hotel compound alone and honestly I do not want to wander around alone. I want to buy a big jug of water after sipping away at the two tiny bottles in my room that cost $3.00USD each...I cannot imagine how much my machine made coffee cost at breakfast this morning, that the waiter told me had an extra charge. My room in Africa costs more than $120USD a night...even though it is like a two star 1970s motel in North America. Everything here is expensive. In the lobby there is a cabinet with various things that look like they came from a Chinese market...and the prices will blow you away...a USB key for $100USD...I would pay that in Chinese Reminbi at the market but US dollars..no way.
Oh I forgot to tell you that the ocean is right here..and it is beautiful...the sun sparkles on the water and I feel like I am in Panama again, or the northern part of Colombia. Without knowing one may easily think they are in South America...the beach, the hot sun, the dark people, the latino flare, the blaring Brazilian style music, swaying palm trees, big curvy women scantly clothed, tropical style beach restaurants and children selling bbq squid, hair braiding and sodas.
Tomorrow morning at 7am a UNICEF shuttle will pick me up. The office is around the bay. I am excited to meet my new colleagues which I am told are about 60 people in this office with another 50+ around the country.
Now that I have had my email fix, which like a cigarette addiction had me beginning to twitch, I am relaxed and ready to enjoy my time in Angola. Work will be busy but I want to enjoy all two months. This is not a place one thinks of settling down in. I think as I meet people and see both sides of the coin new ideas will come.
For now I am happy in my room in Africa, talking to myself so not to forget all the small details I want to share with you.
"I have a room in Africa..."
I have a room in Africa at the Marinha hotel in Luanda, the capital of Angola. It is large with brown wood floors, a bouncy spring bed and a big closet. I decided to roll up the three little carpets near the bed because all the dirts and hair stuck on them seemed to be crawling on my feet. The bathroom had running water yesterday and today, with hot water too. This seems like such a treat having been told that the water and electricity often goes without notice. And the water was hot which i am also taking as a treat. But yesterday was hot, very hot, hot like Shanghai - Panama - India summers where the sun belts down on your head like it is digging for treasure.
So much to tell you from this tiny little computer room in the hotel that has no windows but is cool as the AC machine buzzes away in the background.
Angola is poor and the city of Luanda is like one big urban slum. You can tell the Chinese are here...there are two glass office towers under construction in the main downtown area. I could only tell that it is a downtown because the old bank buildings are there and you can see three beautiful colonial Portuguese style Ministry buildings that seem to have been painted just recently. But the streets are dusty, full of potholes and the people all look tired...looking for a break. this place looks like the poorest areas of Panama and Guayaquil only much more vast.
When I flew into Joburg two days ago I thought I was landing in Canada...it was suburbs all around. The trees and fields were lovely green as far as my eyes could see from the large modern highway we zipped along. My cousin's house is in the ´rich white suburbs´ as she describes it and her house is a mini-resort with a pool and incredible garden, compliments of the Canadian Government...the house comes with her husband's job
Here in Luanda, in my room in Africa, I am in a state of mind that will encourage my work. The view from my first floor balcony is of a large urban slum but definitely not the worst here. From what I can see people live in concrete or shack-like homes. There are a few cars on the outskirts and some small white satellites on the roofs. Like Panama, lively music,salsa and reggae, is blaring, children are running in the streets and women are carrying heavy loads, doing chores and dumping dirty water in a common space in the middle of the road. Some men hang around on small stools speaking loudly, some playing a game and some just hanging out.
Today is Sunday and I went to Church without leaving my room. On the other side of the dirt, potholed street, that i can see from my balcony, is a beautiful pale blue Church, colonial stlye that also looks like it was painted recently. From the shower I could hear the priest givng the Catholic sermon in Portguese but what most filled me with peace was the singing...oh the music is like that from the movie The Mission....ironically a film about the Portuguese and Spanish colonizers and Jesuit priests in Brazil. I guess the Church was full because the in front of the entrance and side doors ladies in bright colored Sunday bests and men in shirts and pants sat in white plastic chairs, only rising as sing along or as the priest asked them to say the Our Father.
It has been a few years since I woke up to the sound of the rooster...now I remember why I wanted to break its neck in Ecuador...ahhh! Since 5 am, before the sun came up the rooster made its presence known. By 6am the sun was sneaking into my room and I decided to start my day with a swim. The air was fresh and no one was in the open concrete courtyard or the tiny pool that I see from my balcony. Then all of a sudden three people, just to make me miss home, three Chinese sat at a table...and how did I know they were Chinese and not some other Asian ethnicity..that unforgettable sound they make when they clear their throats and spit shamelessly...ahh yes China was here too. actually my newest colleague and friend Roshni (we hit it off like sisters waiting in line at the airport for an hour) told me there are more than 40,000 Chinese in Angola, mostly in the smaller cities.
Back to the pool where the water was, um letºs say not clear..I thought my goggles were broken when i started my laps because I could not see thought the water...was I in a swamp? no but it looked murky..no matter I felt alive in the cool water with the lovely clear blue sky above, green palm trees and bright pink Boganvilla flowers. You know, it seems like the only things that are run down, rusting, molding or crumbling are the man made things.
The hotel has a 1970s facade. Seems like the bed spread is from the same decade..I removed it not to feel queasy. But after getting over the crawly things in the carpet and the dead cat smell that seems to come once in a while from the pipes I look out at the view and remember why I am here. As i ate my greasy breakfast I was grateful for the coffee I drank thinking that on the other side of the concrete wall in front of me I was sure no one was drinking such delicious coffee and probably did not have a hot shower after a refreshing swim as I did this morning. Now the shabby hotel and the room I have in Africa seem like a palace.
Outside the concrete open space along the potholed dirt road beside the shabby slum there is a small local grocery store that I am dying to check out...but not alone. I am not to leave the hotel compound alone and honestly I do not want to wander around alone. I want to buy a big jug of water after sipping away at the two tiny bottles in my room that cost $3.00USD each...I cannot imagine how much my machine made coffee cost at breakfast this morning, that the waiter told me had an extra charge. My room in Africa costs more than $120USD a night...even though it is like a two star 1970s motel in North America. Everything here is expensive. In the lobby there is a cabinet with various things that look like they came from a Chinese market...and the prices will blow you away...a USB key for $100USD...I would pay that in Chinese Reminbi at the market but US dollars..no way.
Oh I forgot to tell you that the ocean is right here..and it is beautiful...the sun sparkles on the water and I feel like I am in Panama again, or the northern part of Colombia. Without knowing one may easily think they are in South America...the beach, the hot sun, the dark people, the latino flare, the blaring Brazilian style music, swaying palm trees, big curvy women scantly clothed, tropical style beach restaurants and children selling bbq squid, hair braiding and sodas.
Tomorrow morning at 7am a UNICEF shuttle will pick me up. The office is around the bay. I am excited to meet my new colleagues which I am told are about 60 people in this office with another 50+ around the country.
Now that I have had my email fix, which like a cigarette addiction had me beginning to twitch, I am relaxed and ready to enjoy my time in Angola. Work will be busy but I want to enjoy all two months. This is not a place one thinks of settling down in. I think as I meet people and see both sides of the coin new ideas will come.
For now I am happy in my room in Africa, talking to myself so not to forget all the small details I want to share with you.
No comments:
Post a Comment