Team Mozam/Team MESS

For about two weeks in early December, Jordan, Will, Ryba and I took a little Malawi hiatus and traveled around Mozambique. We called ourselves Team Mozam, though looking back on the experience and seeing the photo documentation, I think Team Mess is an equally if not more appropriate epithet. In the best way possible, don’t get me wrong. But wow.

We started out at Jordan’s house in Mwanza, which is just a few kilometers away from the western border of Mozambique. We chilled out, played ping pong, swatted june bugs, learned to juggle mangoes, and were way too amused by the amazing mister system that Jordan’s dad brought him (I’m talking like, the mist that gets sprayed at you in amusement park lines on hot summer days. It’s revolutionary.). Sadly, many of the photos from this part of the trip were lost on Will’s corrupted memory card, but here are a few pong shots:




Also Papa Conquistador cooking up a storm:



Think it’s time to retire those trousers, Jojo:



After sitting at the Malawi/Mozambique border for many hours (no electricity = no way to print visa forms, totally ideal) we finally crossed into Zobwe and caught a minibus to Tete. Showing up in Tete and seeing the amount of development that exists in cities (and not even the capital city) in Mozam was mind-boggling. It’s amazing how far behind Malawi is at this point in time. Still, as much as there is in Tete, they certainly don’t have everything figured out – as of now, they have this huge, impressive bridge over the Zambezi… that can only allow traffic to travel in one direction. So, every half hour or so, a traffic guard switches the direction. As you can imagine, it’s a DISASTER. Our minibus ended up boarding a BARGE to take us across. From there, we caught a hitch on a semi and sat on a disgusting mattress behind the driver’s seat for the next 7 hours or so traveling to Chimoio. It’s still unclear if this was the source of the condition that gave Ben the nickname Benjamin “The Rash” Ryba for the rest of the trip. Tragically hilarious. He spent the majority of the trip covering himself in Gold Band and other creamy and/or powdery substances.



From Chimoio, we caught a minibus and then a handful of hitches down to Vilanculos, beach stop #1. We had heard from some Mozam volunteers that there was this awesome alcohol we had to try, and all Jordan could remember was that it started with a “t.” Note: Mozambican Tente Çau (sp?) Gin is NOT the same as Tipo Tento Rum. Here we are drinking the former in the back of a pick-up truck… and the awesomely bad ideas begin.




We also broke out an iPod, speakers, and awesomely bad rap playlist. We put our hands up fo’ sho. We tried to get our Mozambican hitch buddies to do the same but they were less than amused. It was pretty amazing, though. One of many moments when Ban and I turned to each other, sun on our faces, music in our ears, and shook our heads about how these are the moments in life that we’ll never forget.

But before I got too sappy, there’s WAY more ridiculousness to outline.

Ryba, for example, has some SERIOUS stunna shades. He can’t really see out of them but hey, who needs to see?



Anyway, after two solid days of travel, we finally arrived at PCV Megan’s house in Vil (which is stupidly amazing and fully-stocked) and went out for our first real meal in Mozam. Here’s Meg and her puppy, Pumba, followed by the first Team Mozam group shot. Don’t we look so cute and innocent?




Yeah, that dinner was followed by an in-home dance party that I’m pretty sure traumatized Megan for life:








The worst part is, the photos I selected are the least incriminating of the bunch. I think I’ll leave that without further comment.

The next day, we hit the BEACH! So gorgeous…



Ban and Ryba went into the water first, and were subsequently attacked by a wild sea animal…






…yep, classic Jordan.

Ban and I recreated our thug photo for the 37th time:



And we took some quality Team Mozam photos:




Any guesses as to who was deemed the “wild card” of the bunch?

Apparently this is a better idea than sunblock:



After a couple days in Vil, we were back on the road hitching again:



We made our way down the coast and then took a boat across to Tofo, where we spent the next many days swimming, chilling on the beach, and buying/cooking fresh seafood from local fishermen. It was everything a vacation should be. We spent a couple of days at a popular backpackers lodge and had some fun, then decided we were old and wanted our peace and quiet and moved down the beach to our own chalet with kitchen, haha. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Here’s us on the boat ride over:



Here’s Jordan eating mangoes as quickly as possible in our first room so Will wouldn’t find him and yell at him for attracting ants:



Here's market seafood purchasing:



And here’s probably the most incredible thing to happen during our time at the backpacker’s lodge: NIPPLE HAIR COMPETITION. Jordan “Koala Eyes” Harris challenged new friend Cole to a battle of nipple hair length. Here they are prepping to reveal the goods:



Aaaaand SHIRTS OFF! They size each other up:




Here’s Jordan disputing the conclusion (while he has a great deal of nipple hair – more than any man should have – Cole still beat him in length):



Here’s Cole showing off his almost-Guinness-worthy (literally) nipple hair:



Wow.

Cole’s buddy Jake tried to get in on the action, but he just didn’t have what it takes:



And soon after that, Jordan declared himself “Game Over”:



We dragged him to bed and may or may not have drawn all over his face, but I don’t think those photos are internet-world-appropriate. Here’s one with the remnants, though, as Jordan enjoyed his adult-sized juice box the next morning:



Soon after that quality event, we moved down the beach where this was our front yard:




Yeah, we balled out there for a good few days:




And peeled prawns by the ocean:





I’m not sure how/why we ever left.

At one point we bought lobsters (for approximately $4 USD/each) and clearly these series were necessary precursors to the amazing feast. Lobster attack v.1:













And v.2:










And finally, we ate those bad boys:




So. Freaking. Good.

We did a lot of cooking while we were there actually. Well, by “we” I mean…

Cooking:



Not cooking:



Cooking:



Aaaand not cooking:



Shrimp, lobster, calamari.. Also we all electrocuted ourselves, but it was totally worth it.

After Tofo, we made our way further south to Quissico and the Funky Coconut Lodge. This was supposed to be our final destination, but it ended up being one of the most epically awesome failures I’ve ever experienced. This place is WAY far off the beaten path, hence why we wanted to go there, but as such it was impossible to get in touch with anyone there. We called and called, and finally hired a pick-up to take us down a long dirt road, through villages and bogs, to this amazing lodge on a private deserted beach. Only problem: the lodge was also deserted:



Yeah, “In Town” turned out to mean “In South Africa.” The buildings were open so the situation could have been salvaged.. except for the fact that there was no food. Or water. Or electricity. It was intense. Jordan, Jake, and Cole caught crabs on the beach for us to eat for dinner.. but we couldn’t boil them. So we threw them directly on charcoal. This attempt was short-lived, and eventually we just pitched tents and went to sleep hungry and thirsty.





The next morning, we got a look at the epic-ness of our situation:








WOW.

We even found someone to turn on the water, so we knew we weren’t going to die. But with no food, sticking around wasn’t really a plausible choice. Biggest problem now: how to get back out. We walked a ways:




Then Ben and I split off to search out help while Jordan, Ban, Jake and Cole went to find the little car that Jake and Cole had abandoned in the bushes the night before (it didn’t quite make it to Funky Coconut). They waited for us…



And eventually, we came to the rescue…



Tractor say WHAT? So we hitched back out to the road on that:




Yeah, Peace Corps life is really hard sometimes:



SO, with many more vaca days and no plan, we went back north a bit and hung out with a couple of PCVs in Inharrime. Anne’s house was AWESOME:



And from there, we headed to Zavora beach… where the lodge was way too expensive, and so instead, we pitched our tents in a villager’s yard! This is where Jordan attracted the iwes with his antics:






But on the beach, it was still pretty much just us. Can I make these into postcards for a Mozam vacation?





Maybe even this one, though Will’s androgyny makes it questionable:



Aww, look at this love:



Followed, of course, by a flex-off:



Team Mozam: The Album Cover:



Sadly, sleeping in lovely villager Eric’s yard was not the most comfortable. But then we met these girls…



…who’s parents owned a lodge down the way. And they (accidentally) hooked us up!





The boys spent a lot of time cooling themselves in front of the fan.





And I laughed/judged.



I kid, I kid. Anyway, we pulled our weight by cooking dinner one night. Don’t we dress up well? (Facial hair aside.)



Too Normal.



Better.

Jordan and Will made a Korean feast, and Ryba and I finished it off with an awesome peanut butter-chocolate cake.








With our vacation winding down, we hitched back up to Vil to spend a few more days hanging with PCVs and ordering delivery pizza (yeah, did I mention they can do that? Talk about things that would revolutionize my service.). And inevitably, we did a little more Tipo (aka. bad idea, as Jordan and I can clearly agree):







And a little more dancing…








Can you see why I’ve nicknamed us Team MESS?

Also, Jordan transformed himself into Ben:



And we discovered Will has the stubbiest fingers EVER (pictured here in comparison to J-Train):



Quality. After traumatizing new PCVs Drew and Camilla, we started our epic two-day journey back to Malawi. At this point, South African holiday had started, so while there were more cars, there were definitely less people who wanted to pick up our shabby foursome. We switched off hitching. Here are Will and I, off-duty:



While Jordan “does his job”:



After awhile, it started to rain. And it was my turn. And I went into my dark place:



The boys documented this so that whenever I’m feeling low again, they can remind me what rock bottom looks like:



Meanwhile, Jordan v. Rooster was taking place:



Also, that hitch was unnecessarily long and miserable (on a second-story mattress in the cab of a semi):




Oh man.. alright, I’m running out of steam, so I’m going to finish off by dumping a bunch of leftover Team Mozam/MESS photos of love at the end here for your viewing pleasure. More hitching (did I mention we once hitched a ride on a stationary bus on the back on a semi?!), more hugging/thuggin’ it out, more goofing around.. let’s just say it was a trip to remember. After the roughest stretch at site to date, I can’t think of anything more perfect to restore my love for Peace Corps. Can we go back?