Seven things that have happened since the previous post

I know, I know - but there are good reasons for my extended silence. (For a start, I didn't want to re-name this blog, er... see point 2). Most notably, at times I don't feel completely sure that everything I did since the previous post was in perfect compliance with every last provision of the exceedingly complex laws that apply to Mozambican business and immigration. I do my utmost to keep to the laws of whatever country I'm in, but sometimes governments make this difficult.

(1) I did indeed manage to start my own business in Mozambique, to make some semblance of a living from it, and to find out how a resource-rich organisation can abuse an independent consultant. (I should add that my previous employers, who also hired me as a consultant, were entirely honest and prompt in their dealings.)

(2) Maputo officially changed its name to Kampfumo. The p isn't silent, but if you treat it as such you will pronounce it considerably more accurately than those hordes of tourists who are certain to start calling the place "Camp Fumo" as soon as the government of Mozambique gets around to publicising this decision. In Bantu languages, the ka- and similar prefixes denote places, as in KwaZulu-Natal and Kampala. (I will cheerfully accept correction on this point.) So, Kampfumo may be translated as "place of the chief". All very well, but what was wrong with Maputo, the name we all know and love and proudly display on t-shirts? That's the name of the chief who ruled in the approximate area of the modern city when the Portuguese first arrived, so that's the name that got on their maps. And it seems that Portuguese connection is too offensive to certain sensitive flowers in high places. Those would be the same senstive flowers who have barred foreign doctors from public hospitals and insisted that every municipality find funds for a statue of Samora Machel. Methinks the man himself would not have approved - but what would a foreigner know about Samora Machel?

(3) My camera died. It was cheap rubbish and had been threatening to do this for some time. I mention this chiefly to explain why I can't present photographic evidence of any of these changes. I shan't be replacing the camera until I have the spare cash for something decent.

(4) The Mozambican government tripled the fee for residency permits. This would have been less of an issue for me had Migração not lost my residency permit in the first place - thereby obliging me to apply for a new one instead of renewing the old one, which would have been cheaper. Coming on top of a series of professional frustrations, growing nationalism amongst the powers that be, and the increasing cost of living in Mozambique, this was the news that snapped something in my head and decided me that it was time to leave.

(5) I gave 60 days' notice on my perfect new flat, sold as much of my furniture as I could, and returned my lovely cat to her original mother - Chantal having providentially returned to Mozambique from the USA at the right moment. I also had to give notice to my empregada Luisa, who had been with me for six years, and hadn't given me a single problem in that time. Should any Maputo residents reading this be in need of a trustworthy and hard-working empregada for a couple of days a week, I'm happy to contact her for you.

(6) Out of the blue, I landed a job in Swaziland - I sent my CV to the employer last year. I was in such straits after a major client delayed payment on a contract that I had to borrow the money to get to the job interview (thanks again to Valentin). I'm still holding my breath - are things really going to come together at last, after a year I was preparing to regard as disastrous? First I have to learn how to handle the cold, the rain and the politics. Prepare to hear a lot about the weather on this blog. I'm still wondering how I can possibly begin to explain the politics without risk of deportation.

(7) I moved to Swaziland. The weekend before I left, the independent papers in Mozambique were full of the news that the price of bread was to rise by thirty percent. I caught a bus from Maputo to Manzini - the commercial capital of Swaziland, where my friends Trudi and Kobus gave me refuge - on a Tuesday (and yes, the bus broke down, but that's another blog post). Wednesday was the first of three days of rioting in Maputo. Perhaps a week later, the government of Mozambique reversed most of the price increases. That's precisely what happened back in February 2008, except that back then, a single day's rioting sufficed to reverse a fifty-percent increase in public transport fares. Everyone knows what to do the next time economic realities force a price hike - though presumably they'll have to keep it up for a week.

I'm in the wrong place to lose my cynicism. It seems I've arrived in Swaziland just in time for its august government to go bankrupt. The rest of the country doesn't seem to mind much, though.