Yesterday Ishmael finally arrived on the Mozambican Island and we had a nice dinner together and were talking till late into the night. This morning we stood up early to go to the one bank that exists on the island and to afterwards keep on heading north.
We had to get to the bank to receive a money transfer by Western Union, as we had to realize once we arrived in Mozambique, that our Chinese Union Pay Card would not work here. But because of the lack of electricity in the entire north of Mozambique, the Western Union service did not work in this bank. Therefore Ishmael still had to drive with us to four different banks until we finally found one which still could operate with Western Union.
All this cost us time, and it was not until midday, that Ishmael let us out at the intersection where the buses pass to go up north in direction of Pemba.
Now it is already four o’clock in the afternoon and we are still a six to eight hours ride away from Bilibiza. The bus is heading on to Pemba, but we need to keep on going north in direction of Mueda to get of at the 19th intersection. We get our luggage and walk down the road. In the distance we see a little rack body truck turning north with its back full of people. But it stops and seems to be waiting for us.
We run and eve though it seems like there is no place left, the money boy (the guy who collects the money from the passengers) some how manages to squeeze us and all our luggage between the crowd. As the road is full of potholes and we on the back only lean on each other without any safetyblets or the like, the journey goes on a lot of slower than in the big buses we were riding till now to get to the north of the country. But still we do not feel secure at all.
After a bit more than an hour the sun drops from the sky and with in a minute it is pitch black around us. But that is still not enough, because it even starts raining, so the money boy searches a huge black plastic foil, which all we passengers together have to hold tight so it does not get blown away by the wind. It is totally dark, we can not see each others faces, just hear the people talking around us and the foil vibrating in the wind. This must be what refugees feel like when they try to cross whatever boarder illegally.
The good thing is, that people are still laughing and talking as if nothing is happening.
After four hours the truck stops at the 19th intersection and even though it is clear that we will not get further tonight and that there is no real hostel around in this little village, we just get of, sure to be able to find a way.
On the other side of the intersection we see a little shop and the lights are still on. We go over and ask the seller if he knows where we could spend the night. He just tells us to wait a while. We buy a cigarette and two beers and sit down waiting for the guy to tell us where we can sleep. After a while he shows us a little room in a hut behind his shop with a little self made bed in it. I guess somebody cleaned out his/her room to make space for us. But there is not much we can do about it now, we can only leave them some money tomorrow to show our appreciation.
Now it is early morning about six thirty and we already packed all our stuff to catch the first transport in direction of Bilibiza.
Now the road is not even concrete and the driver has to drive even more careful. But yes soon we will arrive, soon we will be in Bilibiza again.
The car stops, we get our luggage and start walking in the direction of our friends house. It is the hardest part we actually have to walk with all our luggage, and here the ground is uneven so that our little carrier falls over every once in a while.
But we did it. Now we are sitting in front of the house of our friend Damiao surrounded by children. But Damiao is still not here, he is still somewhere in the fields. So we have to wait. After this more than 4 days that we spend in total travelling to get from Zhengzhou to here, we finally arrived.