Let's go away for a while you and I to a strange and distant land. Where they speak no word of truth but we don't understand anyway.

Sometime about 2 weeks ago...
It's 4:50am, I awaken in the dark 10 minutes before my alarm beeps as once again my bladder wins the immutable war of the wills. In a daze I turn to look at my alarm clock when once again I realize I'm not in my bed, and my Hoboken apartment is a million miles away and a billion years ago. This morning at this time and place I am in Maputo, Mozambique. It's another group dorm, in another hostile.

I struggle in a minute-long battle with the mosquito netting which surrounds my bed (I really have to pee man!), and emerge from my cocoon like a newly minted butterfly as I stretch my arms. I'm sore. Hopping down from the top bunk, my feet hit the cold concrete floor and I take the day's first steps on my continuing journey. Today I am heading to Inhambane and Tofo, small beach towns a few hours up the coast. But first the dash to the outdoor toilet, I REALLY HAVE TO PEE MAN!

1:00pm It's a balmy 80 degrees on the back of the chappa (the word the locals use for the dilapidated over crammed minivan I find myself in) and my back and legs are burning as we enter hour five of our drive. I'm starting to feel like this is as authentic as it gets.

My neighbors are; a young teenage boy to my right who has brought the art of BO to a level my nose has never known, a woman breast feeding an infant while clipping her nails in front of me, and a chicken. Two months ago I would've never believed I'd be riding like a local through rural Mozambique. THIS IS AFRICA! Finally!

As the distance from Maputo grows the scenery becomes more tropical, more rural and beautiful. Villages dot our route and every time the chappa stops to pack more in, locals come from the road side to pedal their goods. Being a little hungry and curious to join the fray, I tried to negotiate for some oranges with a woman carrying a bucket full.

I held up 10 Meticals (24 to 1 against the USD) in one hand and 1 finger on the other. Understanding that we agreed upon the purchase of a single orange, I was floored when the lady poured the entire bucket (30 in total) into a bag and handed it over. Laughing, I offered oranges to everyone in the chappa and as we peeled our fruit we headed deeper into tropical, rural Africa.

At 6:00pm I'm in Tofo, bellied up to the bar with a new national beer to try (Laurentina) and new friends. My Mozambique experience is well underway...

"So why did you choose Tofo?"

Great question, I chose Tofo because it boasts great diving, it's the only place on the planet where Whale Sharks and Manta Rays can be seen all year with regularity. While cage diving with Great White Sharks is exciting (see post: "Swimming with Great White Trash"), swimming along side a Whale Shark is magical. I jumped into the water, looked ahead and this was staring me in the face.

The Whale Shark is the largest fish in the world measuring up to 30 feet. They're docile, harmless, toothless filter feeders and don't pose a threat to people. It's amazing how calm and big these fish are. I spent some time gliding through the water with this guy. Check the video, (As always I filmed myself in at the end of the clip to prove I was really there (not so much for you my viewing audience as much as for me)

Swimming with the Whale Sharks isn't all the waters off Mozambique have to offer. I had an amazing dive with some Manta Rays and got up close and personal with dolphins and hump back whales. We actually hit a humpback whale with our inflatable Zodiac boat, it was nuts. OK, so we're cruising along coming back from a dive and Wham! I looked down over my shoulder into the water and there was a blow hole staring back at me. I thought,"Shit! I read Moby Dick, this isn't going to end well." Fortunately the boat is light and inflatable and the whale weighs 40 tons. If anything, we gave him a good welcomed back scratchin' (the props did not hit him).

I seemed to have acquired a knack for going too fast and pissing off large mammals (See Elephant video in post:"Bushwacked")

Oh yeah, I added local villagers to this list too. One day a buddy of mine and I found a guy renting out quad bikes, so we decided to tour the local village. Our "guide" led us down what we now know is the children's school walking path. In seconds the village women came swarming like an angry horde of hornets. They were pissed, yelling at me in god knows what language. All I could do was shrug my shoulders, say, "sorry" and point at our guide. As I pulled away I saw our guide getting assaulted, the women were whacking him with hand bags and screaming at him. I felt bad ditching the guy, but come on, he deserved it and it was hilarious to watch over my shoulder.

Then, out comes an older guy in his late 60's with a grey beard wearing slacks, a t shirt and a baseball hat. Behold the Chief of the village! The chief reprimanded the guide who apologized and handed the Chief 10 Meticals. I thought, "Great, the Chief can go buy a bag of oranges". Everything was copasetic and we returned to our ride as I sang some Marley, "One love, one heart, let's join together and feel alright".

The village looks like they pulled it right out of my TV. It's an ecosystem of people, coconut trees, thatched huts, a well (no running water) nut trees, citrus groves and the ocean packed with prawns, fish and lobsters. It's like living in a supermarket, in the tropics.



The local people are the happiest, friendliest, smiley-est people I've met. They live simple lives and they are enchanting. One day I was walking/hitching into Inhambane to the only ATM (A day I refer to as "The day we went to the ATM" A story for another time), I passed a class of 7 year olds just dismissed for lunch. They came running over in their little uniforms, so excited to see us. All they wanted was to give us five or shake our hands. They go even crazier with delight when you take their picture (always ask first).

Over the next 8 days I got to know some of the locals. They are merchants or artists who work at the market or locals I've met along the way. There was Erajma the rasta and Horris and Anod and Babu and a bunch more. Some of my favorites were the kids. There is a clan of 12-15 year old boys who make and sell bracelets. They had great names like Johnny Cash, Joe Banana, Mr. Price (which is the name of a discount store in Africa) and they were amazing salesmen, better than 80% of the salespeople I've met. If I were a district sales manager, I'd hire my entire staff from this place. Ten times a day they would make their pitch, "Buy a bracelet." To which I'd reply,"Nah nah nah boys. You're barking up the wrong tree, I don't need a necklace or bracelet, I'm too manly for jewelry. You've gotta create a need, work on your openings. Plan your work and work your plan!" Thank you BP

So on the last day before we hopped a chappa to Swaziland we spent the last afternoon at the market.

Once again I got hit up by the bracelet mafia. This time one boy, "Rasta" asked if I had anything to trade.

RASTA: OK OK, no money. My friend, do you have any thing you can trade to me?
ME: Not really, I'm traveling light.
RASTA: Do you have a torch (flashlight) you can trade? I need one for school.

Turns out these kids work the market during daylight and go to school in the evening, in the dark, there's no electricity. Now I see why the chief was so upset we quad biked on the path. I can see him now, sitting in his hut, shaking his head as he eats his bag of oranges. Anywho, I had a pocket flash light and there was no way I wasn't going to give it to this kid.

ME: I'll tell you what Rasta. I do have a torch which I might trade if the Price is Right (ha ha, he has no idea were that's from). My friend, this is a mag-light. It is the finest torch America has to offer. I'll trade it to you, but it won't be cheap.
RASTA: I give you 1 necklace and 2 bracelets.
ME: Tsk! I don't know, this is a good torch. Tell you what, I'll give you my blue bandana too. This is the same kind Snoop Dogg wears (as I sing to him "I keep a blue flag hanging out my backside. But only on the left side yeah that's the Crip side." while I throw gang signs).

And the negotiation goes on...

So I am now a proud owner of 2 necklaces and 3 bracelets. And here is Rasta making them for me shortly after I tied my bandana around his head.


I'm haven't taken Rasta's jewelry off yet...and I am still manly.

About 20 minutes later a local sculptor and friend of mine offers to carve me a traditional ebony ear piercing. I figured I'll take it, maybe I'll re-pierce my ear, it's been 13 years. Ahh, I'll just hold onto it or give as a gift. He tells me to return in an hour. Dinner and 4 drinks later, it is now night and everyone had packed up their stall leaving the market dark and desolate. Walking past with my friends Dan and Fiona (aka "The Irish") we saw one stand with a light on. I walked up and said, "I am looking for a wood carver, I think his name is Horris, He is making me an earring."
"Oh yes, you are Chris?" says the guy next to the shack, "Come, come with me".

I parted from the Irish and descended into the back allies. It was reminiscent of the scene in Bloodsport when the Asian guide takes Jean-Claude Van Dam to the Kumite for the first time (Google it). I am scared, where the hell is he taking me? I'm getting jumped, I know it, shit! We came up to a lighted wall-less, thatched roofed hut. Inside was a crew including my man working on the earring. All of the regulars were there kicking back from a day's work, drinking beer or whiskey, bullshitting and having a good time.


A woman was cooking on an open fire while the guys worked on their carvings or paintings for the next day. In my head I hear "I remember when we used to sit, in a government yard in Trenchtown..." Holy crap! I really am living in a Bob Marley song.

So the earring is done and Arno asks if it fits. To which I reply,"Well I don't know my ears closed up years ago. I'm not going...uhh...."
He interrupts, "I can do this no problem"
And the crowd is going rowdy, the Irish came back to join and they shrug "why not?" So I figure hell yeah. How could I turn this down? I am in the middle of the jungle in Mozambique having an amazing time hanging out with my new local friends. When the hell does this actually happen to anyone? I'd be nuts not to. Maybe I 'm just drunk, whatever F-it! Let's go! And the crowd is on their feet. A guy pours me half a glass of whiskey... Down the hatch... And...


here I am with 1) a traditional African ear piercing, which was made for me, by the artist with whom I am drinking and hanging out with and 2) necklaces made for me in exchange for a safely lighted path to school. DUDE! QUIT YOUR FREAKIN JOB AND TRAVEL! THIS TRIP JUST CONTINUES TO GET BETTER AND CRAZIER AND MORE AMAZING. I'VE LIVED MORE IN THE PAST TWO WEEKS THAN I HAVE IN THE PAST 5 YEARS.

Sorry about that folks. Hech-hem What was I saying? Oh yeah so we hung out with our local friends for another 40 minutes and parted ways with an invite to go play ping-pong. Sadly, The Irish and I had a 4am chappa to catch to Swaziland so we had to pass.

"Fox? Why did you go to Swaziland?"

To see the Umhlanga of course! Also known as the Reed dance. Once a year or so the King of Swaziland picks a new wife from a group of >40,000 Swazi virgins. During the 5th day, they all dance for him, topless in a huge traditional ceremony.


It was pretty cool, there were thousands of ornately dressed women dancing, singing and chanting in time with precision. Definitely a spectacle to see.

So from there I stayed at a hostile where there was no electricity as a brush fire was consuming the whole countryside and flames were shooting 20 feet in the air at the wall of our yard and I thought we were going to die, then I got me a 42 hour Dutch girlfriend who I met walking out of the reed festival. I traveled on with her to Nelspruit South Africa. She went off to Kruger and I headed back to Johannesburg where I now sit back at Iris' pad, typing this entry for the past 5 hours.

I am jumping a plane to Delhi India in a few hours thus ending my time here in Africa. I am really sad to leave, I'll miss this place and I can't wait to return. It's been almost 2 and a half months and I really feel comfortable here. I get the language, have a favorite food, know my way around town. I even have some friends here.

I'm learning that the greatest value of travel comes in the growth one experiences from consistently being challenged. Challenges like: language barriers, converting currencies, the damn metric system, foreign cell phones, canceled flights and buses, Where am I sleeping tonight?, Where am I eating?, How am I getting to Swaziland? It's a day trip just to go to the ATM. Everything I have fits in a 55L backpack. There's no TV or internet...

Dealing with the frightening and annoying constantly, changes a person. And as you learn to get over it and start letting go, the most amazing things unfold right in front of your eyes.