Weekend Craziness

Santo Cristo! What a weekend. I can't even begin to do the chain of events from Friday to now justice, but at least I will give you an update.

Friday:

I went to the gym and managed to run 20 minutes on the treadmill without stopping. This is unbelievable progress for me, as I can run okay on the street, but feel like it is death in a chronometrized form when I am up on that machine.

Happy with my gym results, I went to treat myself to a manicure, pedicure and wax at one of Maputo's nicest salons, the Nail Spa in the Jardim dos Namorados. After a couple hours, I was ready to go and reached into my gym bag for my wallet and phone. The wallet was in the usual place, but my phone was missing. The receptionist called my number, and it was turned off, a sure sign of a robbery. We turned the salon upside down looking for my phone, and the manager even made all the girls who work there show me the inside of their purses. Nothing turned up. I was livid. My phone had been stolen literally from underneath my nose.

I have a theory as to who did it - the lone client in there with me at that relatively late hour on a Friday evening - as she sat next to my backpack for a while and then, when I realized my phone was gone, was a little too helpful and concerned for my well-being. Suspicous behavior for sure, but I won't bore you with my sleuthing details.

I called Jenny, whose number I thankfully happen to know by heart. She came to the salon and kept me company as we tried to get everythign sorted out. Then, she accompanied me to the police station where I filed a formal complaint. The process was unreal - a policeman wrote everything out painstakingly by hand, in s-l-o-w cursive, pausing every once in a while to verify a street name or the proper format for the claim.

In good Portuguese-bureaucratic style, I had to give all of my personal information for the report, as in my parents' full names, my place of birth, occupation, office address, home address, country of residence, visa type, etc. It was unreal, and there were several moments in which Jenny and I had to bite our lips to keep from bursting out laughing. Imagine me trying to explain what my father's completely un-latin-language-friendly name is, or that yes, I do have the same name as my mother, and yes I know this is not exactly common. But, all things considered, it was somewhat efficient.

As Jenny and I were in the police station, a couple of guys in soccer uniform were robbed on the street RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE STATION! Literally right beneath the armed officer's watchtower. Instead of walking home, we decided to be prudent and get a ride home from Jenny's boyfriend.

Of couse I had tons of plans with friends for Friday night, none of whom I had any idea how to get in touch with (they are relatively new friends, and the other people I know here in Maputo don't have their numbers or e-mails). I figured it would all work out somehow, and decided to have a good night despite it all.

We went to the Clube Naval and listened to some cool live music. One band was from Mozambique and reminded me of Chico Science. The other was actually a mix of guys from Brazil, South Africa and Mozambique. They are called Napalma and were cool, sort of an electro-world-reggae beat.

I drank a lot of vodka that night and danced nonstop. I figured, the more I drank, and the more I danced, the more I had a chance of getting rid of my bad karma from earlier in the night. It was a lot of fun, the best part being that at one point in the night I felt someone hugging me from behind as I danced. It was Francesca, one of the friends I was meant to meet up with and had no way of tracking down. She showed up at the Naval with our other 2 friends, D. and T., and we had a very hugg-y, alcohol-fueled reunion. Good times.

Later that night, unfortunately, Francesca lost her cell phone in a taxi on the way home! Apparently we didn't dance enough to shoo away the bad karma.

Saturday:

Francesca came over unannounced, as we were both without phones, and we went for some lunch and had a good gossip. We also bought pre-paid lines so that we could have minimal phone access again. I am so dependent on my phone it is ridiculous.

That night, Jenny had a massive housewarming party at her flat. There were easily 75 people in her house, from several dozen different countries. We danced, took lots of funny photos, ate delicious barbecue and, once again, drank a lot. The night ended with the last remaining warriors packed into Jenny's kitchen having a dancing party where a hand blender was passed around for use as a microphone, and the soundtrack ranged from Buena Vista Social Club to Malaika to Lionel Richie.

After the kitchen party, a few of us went out for some more dancing at a couple of local clubs, one called Xima and the other out near the beach, a place called Tara. I got my high heels full of sand, used an absolutely filthy bathroom, and spoke tons of Spanish.

Unfortunately, one of my friends also managed to have his cell phone stolen or lost. Of course I got the blame, as I seem to have enough bad phone luck to go around this weekend.

Despite that, this past Saturday was one of the best nights I can remember in a long time, certainly the best in the last 6 months. I got home at nearly 8am, exhausted, but satisfied.

Sunday:

Ricardo arrived from Brazil at 11am. Given my crazy weekend, I had quite a struggle trying to look presentable when he got home and woke me up. It was wonderful to see him, though we've not really been away from each other that long.

We met Jenny and a group of friends at Mundo's for hangover cure nachos, pizza and drinks. Then we went for ice cream at a nice place down the street. We spent the rest of the day watching dvd's at Jenny's house, hanging out with our friend El Erik, and eating leftovers from the party food.

Friday (again - I forgot a big detail):

I finally heard back from the consulting firm. They rejected my counter-proposal, and we both agreed that it is best for us to keep a relationship where they subcontract with me for specific projects when necessary. They don't want to pay me what is, in my opinion, an appropriate salary for their expectations; I don't want to accept a job that fundamentally doesn't interest me, but that also would create resentment for me starting at Day 1 because I'd feel my value as a worker is not being recognized. Best solution for all. Honestly, I can't say that I'm at all sad.

And...the cool opportunity that I am hoping, crossing my fingers, praying works out seems to be moving forward. Ricardo and I have a dinner meeting tomorrow night to speak more about it with the person who is making the offer. :)