Back on a Beach: Maia in Moz

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Mozambique felt like the beaches and small towns of my childhood - market stalls under rusted corrugated metal roofs, pyramids of tomatoes, no shoes in site but flip flops, clear water and sizzled skin and greenery. We arrived in the afternoon, piling out of our kombi. It took a bit of walking before arriving at our Airbnb - a barebones house up a hill that could fit the ten of us quite comfortably. We made a food run, and spent the first night crashed in the living room lit by lamps and candles (there was a town wide power outage.) We ate freshly baked bread and drank cheap Mozambican rum and beer and played drinking games in the dark. (Credit to Endi and Julia - they came up with a Waterford-specific boardgame called 'Highway to Hell.' Emhlabeni people take a shot.)







The next morning sent us in search of the beach. It was wonderful. I haven't swum in the Indian ocean since I was fourteen, and it felt like it welcomed me back. The water was warm, the waves gentle, the sand pillowy. I didn't want to get out. My mouth filled with salt and the tips of my fingers shriveled. I floated, letting thoughts of IAs and EEs and IOPs float away too. We had our temperatures taken at the border - currently their best bet to check us for COVID-19. I let thoughts of that float away too.

Ponto do Ouro is a small beach town in the south of Mozambique. It's touristy, but it was quiet when we were there. The ten of us - eight IB2s and two IB1s had left school early in a kombi we chartered. The border was the slowest one I've ever dealt with (including the Zambian border) and if it hadn't been for Julia's presence as a Portuguese speaker, we probably wouldn't have made it through.

It was a lovely respite from school. I got horrifically sunburnt, finished my Extended Essay draft, swam for hours, ate a burger the size of my head, drank more local beer than my parents would approve of, and we sampled a fairly horrendous national drink called an R&R - the bar that we tried it at served it with about three shots of rum to equal parts Raspberry Sparletta (a vibrant red sugary cool drink.) The group of us cooked together and did face masks and staged photoshoots at the beach. We had impromptu dance parties in the living room and stayed up too late and ate too much.

We didn't really do much sightseeing. I didn't visit any museums or learn anything about the history of Mozambique. The only Portuguese I learned was rude phrases from Julia. It was just the break I needed. I think it's a lesson many UWC students need to learn. For many of us, it feels like everything needs to be a learning experience. We spend so much time analysing everything, planning community service outings, putting together concerts and shows and workshops that it feels exceedingly foreign to lie on a beach with a book (ok I cheated a little - the book was for English lit.) But overall? I rested. I relaxed. I revelled in fresh freckles and clear salt water. Moz was good.

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