Tchova

I don't know much Changana, but I know that tchova means push.

After a week in Maputo, the doctor allowed me to go back to Chidenguele... for one night.

Some might not think it was worth it, a five hour trip each way, just to spend less than 24 hours in my house. But all my clothes were dirty, I wanted to see Iraque and I had a few final bits of work I had to do before I could leave on vacation, Maputo is exhausting, and I needed to get a few things before heading up to Botswana - namely a sleeping bag and actual(ish) winter clothing.

The journey started a cinch. I made my way to the Peace Corps office to have my wound cleaned, then caught a big American style bus to the main bus station for long distance travel - JUNTA. FYI Junta is sort of like changana hell, because the minute you approach this massive dirt/mud parking lot you are attacked by 986349374208104 men asking you where you want to go, trying to put your bags on their bus, usually yelling "you go to tofo beach my sista" ("no, I'm not, and FYI I'm not your sister bud").

And yet it seemed so easy that morning. I got off, the bus, headed to find a bus that would take me home, found one that was almost full and yet still had a prime, comfortable seat for me, and made myself at home. The way it works there is the buses leave for their destination when they are full of passengers. Sometimes it is almost instant, other days it takes HOURS. But that day, within half an hour, we were pushing out of Junta, heading for the promised land.

And then the cobrador asked me for my money, I gave him 500 mtn, and he gave me 200mtn change.

"but its 200mtn to Chidenguele"
"no, its 300"
"liar"
"i'm not lying"
"liar, you just think I have a lot of money, I dont have a lot of money. you are stealing from me right now. liar"

and after a pep talk via telephone from Iraque, I turned into the crazy white women and really let the man have it, in portuguese, and and threatened to call the police. He proceeded to ask me to get off the bus. So I happily/angrily did so after he returned ALL of my money.

I was about a block from Junta, so I made my was back towards to stop, and of course was attacked by another 2342534546 men. The next bus I caught was a minibus. These smaller buses usually only go to Xai-Xai, not all the way to my site.
"you go to gaza?"
"yes, Chidenguele."
"ok, lets go my sister."
"no, you are lying, you only go to xai-xai"
"no, we will go to chidenguele, we are passing chidenguele."

Well, I was pretty sure he was lying, but was too tired to care and not up for waiting three hours for another inhambane (this is the chapa I usually have to take) chapa to fill up. So I hopped on, and we left immediately.

Well the journey was all well and good, until we got to xai-xai and he dropped me off at the stop for the chapas to chidenguele.
"I knew you were lying"
"ok, but this is like the same thing, you will still get to chidenguele."

Luckily there was a chapa about to leave. So I got on. Not so luckily, the bus was almost entirely full, so I rode facing backwards on the little not really a seat thing that usually they put the bags on, behind the front seats, straddling the cobrador.

About 15 minutes from Chidenguele, there was an overturned semi-truck blocking the entire road. No big deal, we will go off-roading and drive through some farms.

Oh wait, we got stuck in the sand.

Tchova.

And then, I got out and pushed my chapa out of the sand. "mulungo tchova, hahahahaha!"

Yes, I realize it is incredibly funny to see a white woman pushing a bus. Obviously.

But all things considered, I made it home in one piece, what more could you ask for. On my way back to Maputo I was sitting in an abnormally small chair, between one man in leather pants and another playing obnoxiously loud techno music that was interfering with my ipod zone-out tunes (Boyz II Men on repeat, obviously), and the woman in front of me pulled her right breast out to feed her child within the first hour, and then just left it a danglin' for the little girl to grab on to whenever she felt like a suck.

But at least in this car the motorista drove like the wind and we arrived in record time. Amazing.