BAD BUSES - GOOD STORIES (continued, part 2) I was in a hurry to leave Quelimane, since realized that I just feel a strength. I thought that if I want to travel to Africa, ok, I need to survive this trip and to preserve the remnants of the mind. I tried to find positive aspects in such a difficult test. At least this bus was where to put their feet. Was the passage by which one could walk. True, the bus was old. The windows shivered at every pothole, that the African roads are not uncommon. The rain was falling, but "windshield wipers windshield did not work. Handle, which usually helps to open the window was broken, so that the bus was a nice cool skvoznyachok, which was created by two large holes in the skin. Local resident named Erik started a conversation with me, despite the fact that he sat on a number of behind, so even across the aisle. Garrulous fellow said that when we come, I can stay in the house of his uncle. But for a start I wanted to know about him something before taking his offer. Old houses I'd like to talk about the landscape views from the windows, but during the first trip it was forced by the bags, but during the second rain came and it was dark. Instead of looking out the window I said to myself: "I know your ass is suffering from jumping on every bump, and your feet are too tight, but try not to think about it." These thoughts are periodically interrupted by a baby crying or his mother, who from time to time nursing baby. Only was I started to calm down, as the mother put the baby on my knee (well, okay, not all, but only his head) and began to change his diaper. That was something new! Not that I have not ridden a bus before, but this form of transport in the Third World has its own peculiarities. I have always wondered why the African coaches are so many women with children? Probably because they are all very lazy. Perhaps mom loves to climb on the bus because of the fact that they often lazy lull baby to sleep. I arrived in Nampula around 11 pm and stopped at the house of his uncle Eric. We went into town a bit to drink and eat. We went to a bar and ordered a drink and a snack while I was away for the need. Suddenly a burst type in the toilet, just until I defecate, and stared at me. "What the hell!" - "I said. And then he added: "Damn!" - Buttoned up his trousers and walked out. As for Eric's family, it was very nice. They even invited me to breakfast, cooking which took them 2,5 hours. The food was not very luxurious, but it is sufficient to support the force. Mosque in Nampula, I sat on another bus to the island of Mozambique. This trip was the most civilized of all. Connects the island to the mainland by a bridge of 3,5 km, and first impressions were not the most positive. The weather was normal, the sky is overcast closed strong. With regard to the earth's surface, all looked any better. The first step was obvious dire poverty. The island is very small, it can be crossed in 15 minutes. It is divided into two parts - the old town and Maqutu, settlement, inhabited by locals. Strongly overpopulated island. I heard that during the war he became a haven for refugees, and its population has increased several times and reaches 15 thousand. Children roam around the island, though it local amusement park. It is hard to imagine what will happen to most of the island's population in the future. The government seem to just not notice it and its inhabitants. When I arrived here, I had a real shock, but after he passed the place I was even beginning to like. Hopscotch It was sort of a miniature likeness of Havana. Buildings are destroyed, but people still live in them. Repair not done here, probably 40-50 years. The paint was dry, and peel under it are visible cracks. In addition to children wandering without supervision, I saw men with sewing machines, which were in a dilapidated house. Such a structure in any other part of the world would have abandoned long ago. In the heart of the island is in the last big building with many stairs. In conjunction with the gloomy weather is a structure that is in poor condition, it could be the scenery for the film about the consequences of war. Here is a local hospital. Inside, everything looks the same is not the best way. Number of beds is limited, and there is very dirty. I met a woman who several years ago came here from the West, and while she worked there as a volunteer, contracted malaria. She told me that insisted that it was moved to a hotel where she could see a doctor. Start material: Read more:
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