No Go Zone

Ever been in the wrong place where it's always the wrong time? This happened to me in Maputo and it never should have. We had been warned. We had been shown on the map where the “No Go” zone was, and yet, there we were, right in the middle of it. I'm still not sure how it happened but these are the kinds of things that happen when complacency sets in.

Before heading off on our adventure to Maputo we spoke to our fellow volunteer who had spent some time there. She pointed out some sights and then was very emphatic about an area of the coast which was a “no go” zone. It had been pointed out to her and being a conscientious traveller passed the information on to us. So, how did we end up in that very part of the city? I guess it started when Sylvia's camera broke.

It's Saturday morning and we're at the top of the 33 storey building,the tallest building in all of Africa. The first unbelievable thing is that they don't charge people to go to the top. It has an incredible view and you can see all of Maputo which would make it a valuable tourist attraction, but for now it is wide open, anyone can hop on the elevator to the top floor between the hours of 9 and 4. The second unbelievable thing about the 33 storey building is that the let you onto the roof of the building. There is an observation area with a nice high wall to prevent people falling off, but above that is the roof of the building. It also has a wall to prevent people falling off it, but all along that wall there are satellite dishes, telephone wires, cables and assorted other electrical gadgets. Anyone could go up there and just wreak havoc but apparently there is a certain amount of trust that you won't mess with anything. So, there we are at the top of the world happily taking pictures, when Sylvia's camera stops working. In a way it's a good thing that it happened in the capital city because there was a chance, a slight chance, that someone would be able to fix it. There definitely is not a camera repair person in Tofo or Inhambane. So, the adventure begins.

We head back across the street to our hotel to see if they know of a camera repair shop. Repair shop- yeah right. They did know of a camera shop down the street and maybe they could help us. When we arrived at the shop, we the camera “expert” who quickly determined that he would be unable to help us. However, he did know of a repair shop uptown and he wrote out the address and directions for us. Back on the street we found a cab on the corner. Off we went to store number two. Upon arriving however, we found out that while they repair many electrical things, they do not in fact repair cameras but they know someone who does and promptly wrote down the address of another camera shop. We were beginning to see a trend. Back in the cab, we headed off to store number three which was on the other side of town. It turned out that this “store” was nothing more than a kiosk at the entrance to the municipal gardens. A small triangular shaped building barely large enough for one person and the Kodak digital photo machine. As well, this person did not speak English and my Spanish did not get us very far given that the language spoken in Mozambique is Portugese. Eventually we were able to get across that the camera was broken and we were looking for a “Tech.” There was one associated with the store and he spoke English but he was not there that day. We thought that we had been defeated until Sylvia had a phone thrust into her hand and Abdul was on the other end of the line. He could be there in half an hour and would see what he could do.

It all sounds pretty simple but nothing is ever that simple in Africa. While all of this conversation and planning was going on, we were surrounded by wedding parties. Yes, parties. In the two hours we were in the park, there must have been at least 20 wedding parties that passed through. It seems that the thing to do when you get married in Maputo is to have your pictures taken in the municipal gardens. Couple after couple paraded by surrounded by friends and family chanting and singing top wish the couple well. It was unbelievable. What a thing to stumble upon. While Sylvia was working on getting her camera fixed, Nicole and I were enjoying the party. Listening to the songs and watching the dancing was entrancing. The park was transformed into a place of joy and hope. If Sylvia's camera had not broken, we would never have been able to take part in such an incredible day. It's strange how these things work out sometimes.

So, you're probably wondering at this point what this idyllic day in the park has to do with the no go zone. Well, on the way home from the fish market Friday night we had driven past a beautiful mosaic mural about 400m long. It just so happens that the park is located directly above this incredible mural. So, we thought wouldn't it be wonderful to get some pictures of the mural while we were so close to it. However, as we looked at the map, we realized that the mural was located directly in the 'no go' zone. Nicole and I said no, we weren't really interested in going there but Sylvia seemed really interested. She pointed out that the mural ended at the Club Naval (the yacht club) and that it would be safe there because it's for rich white people. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. We would go the Club Naval take pictures of the end of the mural closest to it. Sounds like a good plan, doesn't it?

We talked to the owner of the cafe where this brilliant plan was hatched and asked for directions how to walk to the Club Naval. He pointed out the way saying that it was a lovely walk and off we went. We found the road we had to take down the hill and it was lined with beautiful, expensive houses. Boys were skate boarding down the street and the guards waved and said hello as we passed. It was when we were almost at the bottom of the road that things began to get a little sketchy. The skateboarders who had inspired so much confidence in our plan stopped us at the bottom of the hill to warn us to be very careful with our bags. There were problems at the bottom of the road with people waiting to rob tourists. It seems that the beautiful mural was also the perfect bait to lure tourists into danger. At this point, it would have been smart to turn around and walk back up the hill to safety, but, really, who ever wants to walk up a steep hill. So, we carried on hoping to find safety with the young guy who was walking past selling ice cream from a little push cart. As we officially reached the end of the street where it meets the main road we quickly realized why it was a dangerous spot. On one side of us was a steep bank covered in trees and bushes, on the other was the ocean. We had two lanes of road and the only safe walking spot was the island between them. As we started our walk down the median a police truck drove slowly by, the driver giving us the signal to watch out, be aware, danger. This did not help the situation. The interesting thing about all of this was that Sylvia did not seem to be aware of the danger. I had handed her my camera, as hers was broken, and she was casually strolling down the median trying to figure out a good setting and taking pictures. Meanwhile, a truck had slowed down infront of us as if waiting for the opportune moment for its inhabitants to jump out and grab our stuff. We stopped where we were and formed a little cluster and eventually that truck drove off, but in the meantime at least two other cars had circle around picking out their target. It was at this point that the tuk-tuk arrived and Nicole and I jumped in not worried about the fact that he may also have been part of the scam, we were just happy to be getting off that road. Sylvia on the other hand, always the practical one, took the time to haggle with the driver over the price. I could have killed her at this point. I just wanted out of there.

Now, one could argue that we were never really in danger and it was just the power of suggestion that had created two paranoid women and that might be true. In the end, we did make it home safely still in possession of our money and cameras and that's what really matters but, it's a good reminder of why a 'no go' zone is so named and should be respected. Putting oneself in danger is never a good idea and should be avoided whenever possible, everyone knows this. Is a good picture really worth it? I don't think so and that may be the most tragic part of this entire story. The mural was not nearly as pretty in the daylight, and the pictures we took are actually crap. We went through all that for nothing except maybe a good story and a reminder that we are not invincible, a lesson that I will carry with me. Well, at least until the next really good photo op... just kidding.