rio steal-my-money savane

I am learning rules and typical cultural extremely fast. I have only been here just over 3 months, and I am curious if its good I learn now, or all these events are just preparing me for what is to come in the next 9 which means I have many more to ‘enjoy’.
Heather, Patricia (visiting from Switzerland) and I decided to take up an offer of a night at Rio Savane, an touristy, island place with a grand beach, a restaurant and barakas to sleep in. It is only about an hour from Beira, so we decided to hitch a ride. As we waited in a little village market at the side of the dirt road, we got the usual strange looks and strange characters coming up asking strange questions, such as if we were triplets > even though Patricia has strawberry blond hair and very fair skin and Heather is 5 foot 1. A few vehicles past before we were able to get a ride in the back of a truck. I talked about the pricing for us 3 girls and me and the man decided 400 mets for all three… a little pricy, but we were willing to pay. I made sure that it was 400 total and for all of us together. Total. Final price. 6 others got into the back with cases of cokes and baskets of fish and other various overbearing packages. We were riding along, enjoying the wind in our hair and small conversation, when the driver stopped literally in the middle of nowhere on the secluded road and came to us 3 whities asking for money. I said we would pay half now, and the other half when we arrived. When I handed 200 mets over, he made a big show and said that we owed him 1200 all together and it was all a big misunderstanding and he was going to leave us on the side of the road. He obviously knew he was in the wrong and quickly lowered the price to 1000 to make it look like he was the generous one, when really I pay only 330 for an 8-hour ride to Machanga, and he wants 400 for a 1-hour ride in the back of his silly truck! We paid the 500 and I was steaming the rest of the ride there, conjuring up things I was going to say to him, making sure I practiced in my head before I spoke so I could get some real good emotion in my words.

We arrived. “Ja pagamos” Firmly, (we already paid) I said as we hoped out of the back of his truck and started walking towards the boats that take us to the island.
“Ja?” (already), he asked a little confused and then caught up to our fast paced walk and grabbed Heather’s arm and purse. I raised my voice more and told him to let go as I took his grip from her. As this happened he stepped on her sandal, thus removing it and keeping it pegged on the ground as a hostage.
“Ja, nos nao vamos pagar mais” (yes already, we not paying more),,, I explained how we are volunteers and how we should not and could not pay this kind of money, how he is a robber wanted to take these poor girls money and lie to us about prices… blah blah blah. The whole ordeal went on for quiet a while and many people watched as if it was some good movie. One thing that Mozambicans like is ‘drama’. This was probably the best part of their day watching a white girl raise her voice shake her hands with frustration at this thief of a man. In the end we paid 800 mets, which is still WAY too much. To be honest, it was pretty fun and felt good to be able to know I can express myself in this manor in Portuguese.

We took the boat to the island. Cesol, the man who owns the island that invited us to Rio Savane, gave us a Baraka for the night for free (a nice little bamboo hut with mattresses on the floor and mosquito nets, very basic, very cute). We spent the two days on the beach and I played in the wild waves until I was told that my skin was dark as the light Mozambicans. Perhaps that is dark enough. We had a nice dinner at the restaurant, I ordered lula (calamari), and it was the best I have ever had! Fresh, big pieces, and classic fried potato fries and cabbage. Yum.

Cesol is one of those socially awkward kind of people. Perhaps he just does not know how awkward it is when he continually came to sit in on our meal while we were eating, and have nothing or few things to say. Silence would set in and I got the ‘giggle fits’. Its just those situations when one should not, or can not , or simply is not the place to laugh, that it is the hardest not to. I could not control myself and would burst out laughing at absolutely nothing whenever I looked at Heather, and thus I pulled her into it and we were hysterical. And then there was awkward Cesol, quite confused, but smiled his awkward smile. It feels so great to laugh until ribs are aching.

Since Cesol hooked us up with all the sweet deals, we ended up saving money. To get back, we ended up hitch hiking back with some white Zimbabweans. Great weekend despite the robber-type man we had on the way.