African Moonshine

18 Jan 2009

As I was running this afternoon, Mama Magdalena stopped me, and force fed me moonshine out of a gasoline jug.

It was a typical run. I followed one of my favorite paths, and rocked out to my current running faves: a new Akon song, The Veronicas “untouched”, “Its Raining Men”, maybe some ABBA, etc. I love this path, for a number of reasons. First of all, if you follow it long enough, you get to this amazing vista that overlooks two lakes, and just past the lakes are massive sand dunes dotted with little reed houses and a quaint red and white lighthouse. I can’t actually see the ocean from that point, but I know it is just past the dunes, and that proximity I think just enhances the view.

But really, the people I pass make this the best path ever. The kids make me feel like a marathon runner. On my way out towards the lake, they all wave and sometimes follow behind me for a bit. Then, on my way back home the real fun begins. As soon as I round this particular bend, and begin to climb up to my house (which is about 10 minutes of a pretty steep uphill climb) the children converge on me. They rush in hoards to the path, screaming my name, cheering me on. Also, I taught them how to high-five. So basically I just need someone to make a big paper sign for me to run through and it is a veritable JV football fan tunnel. Really, I feel like I have just entered the stadium for the final lap of a marathon or something.

Well today I had just passed my hoard of screaming fans, and was passing Mama Magdalena’s house.

“Mana Katarina!”
“Hi Mama Magdalena. How are you?”
“Mana Katarina, come here.”
“I am running Mama”
“I am your Mama! Come here!

Now, when a Mozambican woman refers to herself as Mama, you listen. So I did. But normally, Mozambican women aren’t pouring liquor down your throat.

“Try this drink” she pours something out of a former gasoline jug, and hands me a glass full of some white cloudy beverage.
I just think to myself, “that better not be water.” It wasn't, or at least I don't think it was because it was opaque, and it smelled like liquor. But I couldn't be rude, so I took a sip.

“Down it”

I couldn't be rude, so I downed it. Come to think of it, I hope it was liquor. Otherwise it is pretty much guaranteed that I will soon find out I have a giardia parasite thanks to Mama Magdalena and her mystery drink.