THE MUSEQUES RESIST
THE MUSSEQUES WILL WITHSTAND
My malaria is almost a memory and I have to thank Pedro to help me to make things much easier, but now the dance starts on the capital city (well this jungle like everybody calls this city).
Luanda old city, that doesn’t want to reveal the mysteries hided, fewer than thousands of tin houses surrounded by new glass tall buildings, there, where the lust of the devil of petrol seduce the magnitude of the corruption.
This city it’s like a huge cake, that’s been eaten by big bites of sweet tooth from those corrupt people looking for free spaces to built on.
Life is short, and to scape the reality to reflect the real world, I guess is only possible for those prodigious minds!
When the sky still dark, people walk long distances from their musseques (townships), to get into downtown, the place for dreaming to get something to eat one more day, unfortunately so often is just a dream.
But at the same time some privilege people like me , we can get there by car, with out avoiding the terrible (engarrafamento or traffic jam ),this happen every day in this city, and when you are in, you have time lots of time to think, to dream , but also to become crazy, myself through my lost look between wait and wait, I can see a human truth that it looks like isn´t real at all, but truth is what it is, and always will be truth no matter what we want to believe.
For me my truth now is that I need a visa extension, because right now I am already illegal in this country, this situation brought me to the Defa offices, well a building, courtyard or I don’t really know how to call it, but I do know that this place test your temper, your capacity of reaction and tolerance, the result of all of it?, well, is a feeling that you are in one terrible concentration camp, fortunately without the crematory ovens, but with the hustle of the government workers that treat you , like you where the most guilty person in this world , so there, all the faces show deception, frustration, and of course any battle is lost in advance, well, new experiences isn’t it?
An like this again on my way home, in the middle of this terrible traffic jam, I feel that in this space of time, you just are nothing, just another person inside another car, is time to think again, time to enjoy the lovely colours of the woman dresses, and also the sad faces of those that come back home with only a dream, oh we moved one more meter, we manage to do one hundred already!!.
A grey sky full of pollution, the muddy ground of the musseques and the world, not far behind other walls, another world the ones of the Spanish cooperation, is there , far from the reality where I am recovering and at the same time I enjoy of the company of Pedro, Manu, Josep, Borja and others, Pedro pulls out the Spanish chorizo, Manu and Pep are good companies, and the bloody Borja makes me feel jealous with his excellent way to write.
Luanda a jungle that opens wide it arms to China, this Asiatic monster that awakes up and embraces the hole world, another grey day , another day between the dirty walls of the Defa immigration, another day making the most dreadful of the ridiculous, oh no sorry today I saw somebody smiling there, maybe he started getting mad ?
In the musseques life is full of red mud, and streets full of thorns, and now that everybody seems to pay attention with the world crisis , I really hope that we all learn that the money doesn’t buy the happiness.
On difficicult times always new ideas come
Bloody hurry world.
HEALTH AND GOOD JOURNEY, NANDO.