Today I am officially illegal in Mozambique. I was under the erroneous impression that my visa was valid for 2 years and would allow me to work here. In reality, the Embassy in Washington granted me a 30-day, single entry tourism permit. When I discovered this little error last week I panicked, imagining having to abandon my African adventure due to bureaucracy. Ricardo and BL laughed at my concern, reminding me that this is Mozambique, after all, and getting visa after visa is not a problem. Ricardo, who has been here for over a year, just received his residency visa last week. He got so many 30- and 60-day visas in the interim that all of the pages in his passport are used up!
Friday Ricardo and I delivered my passport plus about US$100 to a Mozambican "contact" who will cut through the red tape at immigration and get me a new visa. Nothing like handing over your passport to a complete stranger, convincing yourself that this is, actually, a very rational thing to do. Right now I'm playing the waiting game, hoping that I will not only get a new visa I won't have to pay a fine for the days I'm here illegally. My passport is supposed to be back in my hands by the end of the day. I'll believe it when I see it...
So other than my illegal status, things here are going well. My health is pretty much back to normal after a month-long coughing bout and some minor intestinal disturbances last week. Nothing like living with 4 other people to quickly dispose of any vestiges of modesty I had when I arrived in Mozambique. There is only one bathroom in our house and the walls are paper-thin, transmiting an unfortunate soundtrack to the rest of the rooms each time someone, um, takes care of business. By nature I am an extremely private person when it comes to bathroom issues, but in order to survive here I've had to learn to replace my embarrassment with humor.
When I felt the seismic rumbling in my gut the other day, I knew there was no hiding what was about to come. I announced to my housemates that I was taking bets as to whether the culprit behind my intestinal troubles was the All Bran cereal I'd eaten that morning or the suspicious-looking fish I'd had for lunch.
I should have known better than to think I could resolve things in peace. About halfway through my efforts, I heard Bruno and Ricardo laughing outside the bathroom door. "Esta música é dedicada a você." This song is dedicated to you. BL held his laptop up to the door and the syncopated beat of a bossa nova guitar carred through the air. At first I thought it was Tom Jobim or Vinicius de Moraes, but then I paid attention to the lyrics.
"Cagar é bom quando a gente está em paz,
Escutando na água o som
que a merda caindo faz...
Cagar molinho, cagar soltinho,
De qualquer jeito, de qualquer maneira,
Até quando é caganeira...
Cagar é bom, é muito bom,
Cagar é bom demaaaisss....
Tirimrimrim tirim
tbloft tbloft, tbloft,
blum..."
(It's so nice to take a shit in peace,
listening to the splash that the poop makes in the water...
Soft shit, runny shit
Any type, in any manner
Even when it's diarrhea...
Taking a shit is good, it's really good,
Shitting is really wonderful.
Tirimrimrim tirim
tbloft tbloft, tbloft,
blum...)
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Bossa nova bathroom music courtesy of my carioca housemates. I swear to God, there's never a dull moment in Real World Mozambique.
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