Camping Cahorra Bassa...?

“You guys are going to do what??”   Is more or less what our colleagues and friends around Chitima said to us when Drew and I started telling people what we had planned for the next weekend.  We’re going to go hike around in the mountains and find a place to camp, is what we were telling them.  People knew we liked to go hike the mountains from pass trips we had shown them pictures of, but even the act of leisurely hiking was pretty lost on most of Mozambicans.  The idea of expending a lot energy in this Tete heat just to walk aimlessly around looking for a good view.  Only the people of the mato (bush) go up the mountains to farm the side of the hills, why the heck were we going to do the same?  You guys are professors, you’re white, you have money, you can hang out and drink beer; these were a lot of the questions that accompanied the weird looks we were getting.   But we just said it’s beautiful up there, it’s quiet and tranquil, and it’s a good work out.  Well what are you going to eat, where will you sleep, what about water?  Told em we’ll cook our food with a little camping stove I’ve got, we are going sleep in hammocks with bug nets, and we’ll pack enough water for the duration of the trip.  “AHHH, voces estam louco,” is what our friends said while shaking their heads and laughing as they tell other friends and people around us what we were doing.  Ok, you guys are crazy for not wanting to explore those mountains, get away for a bit and hang out in nature I would respond. 

                Since the base of the Cahorra Bassa mountain range is basically our front yard it doesn’t take long for us to get pretty far into the hills.  After an hour and a half of some solid up-hill trekking we get to our first go-to spot when we usually explore.  It’s the highest spot the road cutting through the mountains touches before it starts back down into the valley and winding around the mountains leading eventually to Songo, the city where the dam is.  The spot is beautiful with a big out stretching view that shows the real vastness of Cahorra Bassa.  Valleys forking in every direction that just seem to go forever as the bend around another mountain and make you wonder just what lies beyond the next mountain and the other one after that.  You can see a decent size bush town from there that is at the base of a giant bowl in the range to the left side of the view.  It’s close enough to see that all the houses there are made of reeds and it doesn’t look like there are power lines running to any place in the village, though it’s far enough away that you can’t make out any sign people walking around.  Or maybe it’s just so hot that people are all chilling under trees and enjoying the shade, which is quite very possible considering we are hovering around upper 90’s often breaking 100 degrees.  We know people live in that village though because we can see others walking a trail next to the look-out spot heading toward the village with bags of rice and other things on their heads.  I think these people would understand why we want to hang out in nature a little more than our school colleagues.

                Taking a water break and eating a snack, a ‘green’ orange that tastes like a cross between a lime and an orange, we talk and decide to take a foot path we had passed a little ways back that leads off the road and seems like it head up the side of a decent mountain.  Searching the brush near us I find a decent hiking stick before we pack back up and set out again.  Back down the hill we just walked up we find the foot path stemming off the road next to a construction ditch and start down it.  It takes us perpendicular from the main road a good ways leading us right into the mato.  Keeping a close eye out for snakes and other random critters we continue on and eventually the path takes us to the base of a steep incline which is covered with thick stalks of corn and is easy to tell that it is some one’s machamba(Garden).  So taking extra caution not to break any stalks or step on any melons on the ground we slowly start our way up the incline keeping to the side of the machamba.  After only a few minutes of climbing and weaving in and out of the corn Drew calls up to me to stop and points out that a down the hill a bit on a small plateau there is small single reed hut and there is a group of about 5-6 people standing out and very obviously staring at us.  Yeah, we know that we probably look not only out of the ordinary but pretty damn strange to these people.  Just two white dudes popping out of the bush into their machamba with some good sized packs on their backs wandering around aimlessly.  So we agree it’s probably good and in our best interest to hike back down and do some PR work with these people and make sure what we are doing is ok with them.  Especially since for a lot of Mozambicans the machamba is a sacred place and often closely guarded and kept. 

                Hiking back down we come up to the hut and we wave to the people as we get close.  They look pretty startled and most of them are on the decline of the hill and look like they are readying to run.  The group consists of one older looking woman I assume is mom and her children: three girls, one seems to be a teenager and has a baby strapped to her back, and a little boy of about ten.  As tenderly as I can possibly be and with a big friendly smile on my face I start trying to explain ourselves,  “Somos professors novos de Chitma do Vale, vivemos lá.  Queremos passear nas montanhas.”  All I get is absolute blank stares….. Damn, what I feared.  These people don’t even speak Portuguese, only the local language of Nyungwe.  Which I speak none of and Drew knows only a handful of words.  We look at each other and kind of chuckle, each of us with a goofy smile of oh ‘crap where have we just stumbled into.’  Drew picks up the conversation with the limited Nyungwe he knows, stating his name and asking them how they are.  I repeat what he says, inserting my name.   The mother who was doing the talking instantly lights up a little and shows a bit relaxation, she answers our question of how she is doing.   I remembered then that I had packed a handful of yogatas, a local sucker brand, and begin to dig in my pack for the lot.  The kids look a little weary of me as I’m unzipping and unclipping my pack, but as soon as I pull out a fist full of these delicious sweets they instantly perk up and crack smiles as I hand them out.  Each kid giving me two claps before they take the sucker, as to say thank you (something we’ve seen kids do in Chitima before).  Once the sweets are distributed I turn back to the mom and try with the simplest set of Portuguese words I can think of to explain what we want to do.  Climb the mountain and sleep there for one night.  With the help of a lot of hand motions and impromptu charades, I think she gets it!  She nods and points towards where we were hiking and says a lot in Nyungwe and super-fast, but she uses a couple of Portuguese words because I catch the word for path and house in between lots of Nyungwe.  Which I put the pieces together and think she is saying that there is a path we can use that leads to another reed hut like hers farther up the hill.  After a few more attempts of trying to explain ourselves and her responding with similar answers about the path and a house we think she has warmed up to us enough and given us pass.  We thank her profusely, bowing and smiling and saying thank you in Nyungwe, to which she does similarly.  Waving to the kids with fresh suckers in their mouths, we set back up the hill.

(Pics of reed hut)

                With extreme carefulness now because now we know they are definitely watching,  we start climbing the side of the machamba again.  Taking it slow and knocking rocks and bush with my stick to scare away any possible snakes.  We make it to the top of the incline and it sort of levels out before dipping down and then back up another steep incline.  We stop here for a water break and look around.  Off to our right we see this large rock that juts off the plateau and splitting this boulder in half is a huge tree with large limbs weaving all around it that look awesome for slinging up our hammocks.  We have found camp for the night.  We hoof it over to the rock tree and unload our packs and take a good break basking in the shade and enjoying the great view we have just stumbled upon.

                The evening goes swell with some delicious pre-made vegetable fajita and rice for diner, making a camp fire as the sun sets and we listen to some good camp fire stories brought to us by our favorite podcast, Snap Judgment.   After a day of rain and overcast two nights before, we were lucky enough to have a clear night with a grand view of the stars as we laid out on the rock.  With a decently strong breeze flowing through the valley we welcomed the feeling of being cold for once in a long time.  And the cool mountain air was a comforting lull to fall asleep to. 

                Being at eye level with some of these mountains the sunrise came a bit earlier than it usually does in Chitima.  A nice eye opening array of orange and light yellow sunlight creeping up over the mountains to our east was quickly accompanied by the screeching and howling of baboons off in the distance that became a sound surrounding us a short while after the first one started and others began answering like roosters’ wake-up call on a farm (or a morning in Namaacha).  Drew and I rolled over in our hammocks to look at each other with that same goofy grin we each had when we talked to the mato mom who couldn’t speak Port.  Where had we stumbled ourselves into?  Needless to say, after the baboon alarm clock was done we were awake and alert.   Rolling out of our hammocks, I had quite a nice climb down from mine after slinging it half way up this tree thinking that was the safest place from any critters below.  We had a quick breakfast Marie crackers and peanut butter, soaked in a bit more of this awesome spot.  With the idea that we had without a doubt in our minds been the first people ever in history sleep in hammocks  and camp like we did at this rock tree.

                (I had to make a small sign to mark this spot and little adventure)

                Packed our stuff in and picked up our trash and we headed back down the mountain.  Not seeing anyone at the reed hut on our way down, we just continued on.  Popping out of the forest back onto the main road and into civilization.  To which we were quickly sighted by some construction workers doing maintenance on that ditch near the start of the footpath.  They had the same gawking look that the mountain family had had, but we didn’t feel the need to explain ourselves to them.  We just said “Bom Dia,” and continued on; laughing to ourselves as we tried to conjure up exactly what was probably running through their heads seeing us roll out of the bush like that.