The streets of Nampula ...

Today, in the pursuit of visiting chicken farms as part of my latest project (ironic I know), we had to drive through a whole lot of back streets of Africa.

Intermingled with the paved roads of the "big towns" like Nampula are mazes of backstreets, humming with activity. This is the real Africa - well, the town version (see my entries on the lake for the real "rural" versions).

The first thing that hits you about these places is there really is a joyful atmosphere about the place. The sounds of children laughing resonate throughout. I went at evening, where the golden orange in the sun-setting sky compliments the colour of the well-worn road, white puffy clouds casting a contrasting sillouhette over the horizon.

As we drove along incredibly pot-holed roads (quite slowly indeed!), the odd village goat and chicken runs by. Children have set up make shift goal areas for mini soccer games, the socer balls made out of hundreds of plastic bags dutifully wrapped around each other.

These towns of a few hundred to a thousand people are little communities - complete with their own versions of Backyard Blitz and Home Improvement ... whilst everything is dusty and worn, you see those who have neglected their homes, and those who have tried to add touches of flair throughout - a new hay fence, a well placed makeshift roof made out of scrap metal.

You see those who have given up on acheivement - many lying there in the dust, sleeping, and you see the entrepreneurs - little makeshift stores selling cheap trinkets and chocolate eclairs to slowly build capital. You see teenage girls and young men modelling the semi-latest fashions - the classiest outfits they could pick up at the local market (2nd hand Western clothes for 50 cents each!) - you see them walking past many in holed and dishevelled clothes which have not been washed for weeks. You see children - laughing, playing soccer, crying, begging.

This is an African metropolis - joy, laughter, sadness and sorrow intertwined as one.

The same mixed emotions are brought out in me when I move through this place. In some ways they have my envy - a life of relatively little work, lots of soccer, nightly dancing and socialising. However, I cannot overcome the strong sense of pity - both a compassion and a stigma - that I continue to develop towards these Africans ...

blessings
john

ps sorry for no photos. Arghh the internet here ... why!!!!?!?