I feel compelled to explain recent lengthy silences and the perhaps meagre previous post. While I'm very occupied at the moment, that's caused less by work at the bank than by having wrestled my writing habits into order and putting in some serious hours on a manuscript. This is not the best thing that could happen, as it means going from hunched over a computer at work to hunched over a different computer at home. However it's a temporary situation and should be over in a few months.
In the meantime I shall cultivate the art of short posts. Fr'instance.
During regular weekly office devotions this morning the CEO Ben read from Luke about the distinction between material and spiritual riches. It led to a discussion about a sad phenomenon recently observed in Maputo: the theft of metal plaques from graves, presumably so that they can be sold for scrap. This may happen elsewhere, but it's particularly disturbing in Africa, where respect for the dead is such an important part of life, and where a poor family may go to a lot of effort to pay for such a plaque. The thefts could indicate a desperate need for cash on the thieves' part, but even if so, it still means someone else is paying money for the stuff of others' reverence.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Evening on Martires de Machava
Photo taken from my kitchen balcony last week, looking down from my third-floor flat into Avenida Martires de Machava.
Everyone's waiting for the chapa home. The people in the middle are sitting on the edges of a knee-deep pothole which functions nicely as a bench. This is about as close as I can get without people jumping up from their places, standing tall and wiping the smiles off their faces so that they appear dignified for the camera.
You know that summer is coming in Maputo when the jacarandas drop their flowers and the acacias break out in coral-red. Also when the markets are crammed with mangoes, kamikaze flying ants drown themselves by dozens in the thin film of water left behind after you shower, and you wake up at 4.30 every morning because that's when it gets light.
Everyone's waiting for the chapa home. The people in the middle are sitting on the edges of a knee-deep pothole which functions nicely as a bench. This is about as close as I can get without people jumping up from their places, standing tall and wiping the smiles off their faces so that they appear dignified for the camera.
You know that summer is coming in Maputo when the jacarandas drop their flowers and the acacias break out in coral-red. Also when the markets are crammed with mangoes, kamikaze flying ants drown themselves by dozens in the thin film of water left behind after you shower, and you wake up at 4.30 every morning because that's when it gets light.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Subtle xenophobia
And now, something for my fellow citizens to ponder the next time anyone in a government role starts pontificating about tourism's vital role in the economy, the need for Australians to welcome tourists, etc. My colleague Trudi, a South African citizen, says that yesterday she would have cancelled her planned holiday in Australia had she not already paid for it, due to the hoops the Australian government expected her to jump through to get a 3-month tourist visa.
The first annoyance was the usual requirement by the high commission in Pretoria that Trudi send her passport to the embassy in Harare for processing, because Harare, according to the rule book, takes care of Mozambican residents. (This is the requirement which got me struck off the electoral rolls at the last federal election. I had to send more supporting documents to Harare than was worth the risk. Does DFAT not watch the news?) Being unwilling to lose her passport in the morass of Zimbabwe, Trudi evaded that one by arranging to have the passport sent from and delivered to the addresses of friends in South Africa.
Now she has to complete an eight-page form, which comes with five pages of instructions attached and a two-page checklist of documents which need to be provided. The documents include certified bank statements for the past three months (requiring a trip to Nelspruit to visit her South African bank, as there's no point in entrusting them to the Mozambican post), an official letter from her employer stating her leave dates (must include a date of return to work), and evidence of her accommodation bookings, including a letter of invitation from her friend's aunt, with whom she will be staying some of the time.
I would issue an apology to the government of Mozambique for anything I may have said associating it with excessive bureaucracy - except of course that we all know what this intimidating form is about. The "Health and Character" section of the form contains the interesting question "Have you ever stayed outside your country of usual residence for more than 3 months?" (I suppose my mother doesn't have to worry that her lengthy visits to Indonesia make her a degenerate, or unhealthy - she will be protected by that same magic which permits her to give a SIM card to her research assistant on departure, without getting involved in terrorist activity.) Given that the worst overstayers of Australian visas are British and New Zealanders, I presume that they have to fill out a sixteen-page form to visit for the holidays.
In the meantime, I plan to visit Nelspruit this weekend. Visa issued on presentation of passport at the border. I am aware of the reasons, but when people to whom you've been rude are polite in return, it's embarrassing.
The first annoyance was the usual requirement by the high commission in Pretoria that Trudi send her passport to the embassy in Harare for processing, because Harare, according to the rule book, takes care of Mozambican residents. (This is the requirement which got me struck off the electoral rolls at the last federal election. I had to send more supporting documents to Harare than was worth the risk. Does DFAT not watch the news?) Being unwilling to lose her passport in the morass of Zimbabwe, Trudi evaded that one by arranging to have the passport sent from and delivered to the addresses of friends in South Africa.
Now she has to complete an eight-page form, which comes with five pages of instructions attached and a two-page checklist of documents which need to be provided. The documents include certified bank statements for the past three months (requiring a trip to Nelspruit to visit her South African bank, as there's no point in entrusting them to the Mozambican post), an official letter from her employer stating her leave dates (must include a date of return to work), and evidence of her accommodation bookings, including a letter of invitation from her friend's aunt, with whom she will be staying some of the time.
I would issue an apology to the government of Mozambique for anything I may have said associating it with excessive bureaucracy - except of course that we all know what this intimidating form is about. The "Health and Character" section of the form contains the interesting question "Have you ever stayed outside your country of usual residence for more than 3 months?" (I suppose my mother doesn't have to worry that her lengthy visits to Indonesia make her a degenerate, or unhealthy - she will be protected by that same magic which permits her to give a SIM card to her research assistant on departure, without getting involved in terrorist activity.) Given that the worst overstayers of Australian visas are British and New Zealanders, I presume that they have to fill out a sixteen-page form to visit for the holidays.
In the meantime, I plan to visit Nelspruit this weekend. Visa issued on presentation of passport at the border. I am aware of the reasons, but when people to whom you've been rude are polite in return, it's embarrassing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
