Picture Paranoia

As I write, the craters on my street are being repaired, local time 10:43 pm. Yay! I wish I could show you pictures, but after snapping the picture of one truck, a man hurries over and asks me what I am doing taking pictures.

"Who has authorized you to take pictures?"
"No one, I didn't know I needed authorization. What is the problem?"
"You are taking pictures and we don't know what publication you will use them for."
"No publication, just me, a neighbor and person curious about what is happening on my street."
"You can't take images of people without asking them."
"Are you afraid that I will steal their souls?"
"No, but we don't know what you will use the pictures for."
"They are for me, a curious person interested in keeping memories. Do you really think anyone is going to pay me for these pictures, that I will make money off of them?"

That seems to pacifiy him and he stands beside me as we watch the men work.

I have written before about how difficult it is to take pictures in Angola, but this exemplifies the fear or paranoia about picture taking.

I am overjoyed that the craters are being fixed since our street can be very busy at peak traffic times and the craters do create  extra delays. Thankfully, they are being repaired before the rains set in. We have had a couple of light rains, which already has caused flooding.  I would imagine it is a combination of burst pipes, poor drainage and sewers chocked by trash.

Kalandula Waterfalls & Pedras Negras

During a school break, we venture to the Kalandula waterfalls which are supposed to be Africa's second or third largest waterfalls, with Victoria falls in Zimbabwe being the largest. There are some beautiful rock formations nearby as well, so we plan an overnight trip.

We head east out of town, and as in any outing, getting out of town is the worst part of the trip, unless you get stuck behind a convoy of dump trucks on the curvy, two-lane highway as we did. Thankfully, the convoy leaves us as they enter this huge construction complex with Chinese writing. The Chinese are very present in Angola constructing highways, roads, buildings and are involved in just about any project imaginable.

At this point, we have been driving about 1 1/2 hours and the landscape has already changed from arid to more verdant, and as we proceed, it becomes lush and green. We decide to stay in the actual little town of Kalandula where there is only one hotel to be found. This hotel is a combination of an older building, which has an old world feel to it with a huge swimming pool and small bunker-like trailers that were probably left behind by some organization that worked in Angola possibly during the civil war or soon after its end. These trailers have been added on to the side of the hotel as additional rooms.

The bunker rooms are clean and not so bad, but they do have the hardest beds ever. Again, don't even get me started on what we paid which was absolutely ridiculous, and for that, we will not be back.

After check in, we head to Pedras Negras (Black Rocks) at Pungo Adongo. These are majestic rock formations that seem to magically appear on the relatively flat horizon. We drive up to the entrance of the path that leads to their tops.

Steps leading to path

It is an easy climb and the views are beautiful, so different from any of the landscape we have experienced in Angola so far. We can see the village school and we are joined on our walk by three kids. The oldest one tells us a bit about the village, the school and how they love to play basketball. Angola won the African basketball championships in 2013 against Egypt, something they are very proud about.

The school in the center

After taking in the sights, we head down and decide that it is early enough to go to the waterfalls. The drive is pleasant and takes us through small villages which are filled with goats. On the weekends, we always smell barbecues and now I know where some of the meat comes from!

The mango trees are just full of fruit and the fields are lush and green as we make our way to the falls.

When we arrive, the parking area around the falls is relatively full of cars and people are grilling on the side of the road. Ice cold beers are sold at stands everywhere in Angola, one of the cheapest commodities here at $1.00 per can for the national brands. Families are enjoying the day and as we get closer to the falls, people are dipping in the pool formations of the river. 

The falls are beautiful!

On the other side of the river, a ways off, you can see an abandoned hotel and we decide to take a ride there to have another view of the falls.

Can you see the abandoned hotel at the top right?

We ride through more villages and at one, it looks like the inhabitants have managed to get solar paneled light posts. If indeed, they are solar paneled, it is an innovative idea that would allow people in remote areas without electricity to perhaps feel safer and provide a way for socializing after the sun goes down.

The tiny orange structure at top left of the falls is where I took pictures from the other side, just to give you and idea of the size!

A really enjoyable outing. Angola is enormous and we still have much to see, but we do need several days to get to some of the places we would like to visit.

Valentine's Day

This morning extra vendors were setting up tents on my road, namely flower sellers. There are usually ladies selling fruits, but then it struck me: Valentine's Day! Red roses, bouquets and wrapped teddy bears can also be seen in front of the cemetery which is right down from us. Flower ladies are always stationed there, but today there was extra activity and lots of red everywhere.

Double parking, honking and motorcycles driving away with huge bouquets met me as I walk to take a closer look. Again, I am shouted at by a lady screaming that I just can't take publicity pictures.  I feel like a thief sneaking up, with camera ready, and snapping quickly. But, really, does she think these pictures will give me any kind of profit? Or what on earth does she think the pictures will be used for?

A friend who has been living here over a year told me that the worst traffic day she has ever survived in Luanda, was last year on Valentine's Day. There have been radio commercials, Valentine's Day specials announced in perfumeries, restaurants and other establishments. This is serious business in Angola!

A sampling

As I snap a picture a young guy holds up his bouquet and asks the ladies: "Is it really pretty, you think?" "Oh, of course!", they answer in unison. He looks unsure, but I don't know if it is because of the amount he is about to shell out or if he wonders about their freshness. I bought a measly bouquet for $15.00, a pathetic marigold bunch when we first moved here, that died the next day, so I understand his misgivings! Not only that, but I ask one of the lady's about a dozen roses with a big red ribbon and wrapped in cellophane: $200.00! When I start to laugh, she say, "OK, just give me $150.00". I can't believe the chaos and mayhem; they are getting plenty of business, though. BUT, who are these people paying this kind of money for flowers that will die tomorrow? Some look like pretty ordinary people, while others leave their  haphazardly parked, huge trucks and fancy cars along the street.

Love traffic

São Paulo Market

São Paulo market is not far from my house and my first sighting was when I thought I was taking a short cut home and ended up using three times as much time due to the fact that I drove past the market. I have never been on a worse city road or one filled with more traffic and people, ever, and I promised myself I would never go in that direction again.

If you mention São Paulo to expats the usual comments are "nightmare!", "chaos!" and "don't you dare go there alone!" I love open air markets and I was hoping that São Paulo would be an alternative to the usual grocery stores or where I could find items not found elsewhere. São Paulo is the market where many ordinary Luandans do their shopping. After driving by, I could see why it had such a bad reputation: stalls with cheap-looking wares, pots, pans, toilet brushes, you name it, surrounded by dirt, trash and hundreds of people.

Today I got a call from a Vietnamese friend who told me her driver was going shopping for her at the Vietnamese store in São Paulo. I have been hearing about this Vietnamese store for a while and since I need fish sauce and rice noodles, which I can't find anywhere, I agree to meet her driver who will show me the way. It's Monday and the market is not fully open since they do cleaning, but to me, it looks like it could not possibly be any busier.

First challenge is to find parking, which we eventually do. Thankfully, her driver is rather tall and is wearing a white shirt, which means I can keep an eye on him as he leads the way through the chaos.

We must weave our way through people, cars and wheelbarrows being pushed while taking care where we step to avoid stagnant water, trash and mud. I ask him how he ever found the store, "I just came and started asking everyone for the Chinese store. People would send me here and there, but it wasn't until I bumped into a Chinese woman whom showed me the way that I found it"(here the word Chinese is used for Asian people). I keep my eyes open for landmarks, but I doubt I will ever find my way here again.

 

This is the sign I will keep looking for if I ever venture back since it marks the staircase that leads up to the rooms housing the store.

At the top of the stairs he bangs on the locked gate. There is no sign indicating that this is a store, but my friend's driver is obviously a recognized customer since he shops there about twice a month and we are let in with a smile. Inside a small room stacked with all kinds of things, I  spot the vermicelli noodles, the fish sauce, rice papers all sorts of herbs and teas. There are two sisters inside who take his order. My Portuguese is basic and my Vietnamese is non-existent, so communication is limited. I try to find out how many Vietnamese people live in Angola and when they arrived, but I need a translator. I assume their families left during the Vietnam war, only to arrive to another country wracked by civil war.

View from the store entrance

When his order is filled, we weave our way back. Everyone is preoccupied buying, selling or taking goods somewhere, but I can definitely say that I never felt unsafe. The people were carrying on with their affairs and I hardly got any looks. I did not wear my watch and I kept a good hold on my purse, something which I always do, but I do feel that some expats are a bit paranoid about safety and mixing with ordinary people. I can see going back, but I can't say that I will find the shop again!

Cachupa

I love cachupa; a hominy based stew with chicken, beans, sausages and other meats in a tomato and vegetable base. This is an Angolan dish that has many variations and everyone has their own way of making.  Some use greens as well while others go for just the hominy, chicken and one type of sausage.   The humbler ones, I think, are uncomplicated and better.


Not far from us, there is a very simple restaurant where I have eaten lunch several times with my husband since it is not far from his office either. This diner serves business men and other local workers and they usually have a variation of cachupa and it is always good. You serve yourself from the entreés, beans, rice and other sides and weigh your plate at the register. As I was taking the below picture of the entrance, a very stern-looking woman who emerged from the side of the building asked me brusquely if there was a problem. "No probem", I said and I was about to tell her how much I like the food here when she angrily replies "If there is a problem, I should know then!" There is really some kind of paranoia about picture taking in this country which I have yet to figure out.

Another place I like is not far either. I must admit that my husband was the brave one here since he ventured in with a colleauge. The entrance  does not look promising and the set up is simple: plastic tables and chairs, a tent shade, unmatched cutlery, but my, is the food good! With a side of rice and a cold Cuca beer, you can't go wrong with their cachupa!

I want to learn how to make it myself and take my maid, Maria,  to a giant grocery store to help me pick what we need. As you can see, the selection of sausages is huge. I am willing to try even the blood sausages, but I can not stomach the cow intestines. No matter, Maria says, it will still be good! As we shop, she tells me tha in the old days, this was usually served during wakes and some of the senior population still associates this dish with death.

The selection is astounding

We start our with a big pot and boil the hominy. This takes a couple of hours to soften at a simmer. In another pot, the meat (pork, chicken and beef) cook together with onion and tomatoes  and the greens, which remind of spinach, but are called "cove" are sweated out separately. The sausages are cut and added in at the end.

Our cachupa ingredients

Here you see three types of sausage pork, chicken, beef, beans, canned tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, green bell peppers and greens. It is a one pot meal, easy and delicious. I must say I prefer without the greens since they do add a bit of bitterness. Some of the sausages are too fatty for my taste, but they do give a delicious flavor. We end up with an enormous amount since the kids thought the hominy was weird and I end up freezing half of it. Good to know I have an easy dinner ready for a day I don't feel like cooking!