We'll always have Tofo...

I'm not quite sure why it's taken me so long to write about the final and favorite leg of my backpacking trip. Maybe it's because with school started, I don't have as much time to write and I knew this one would be a doozy.. maybe it's because I wasn't quite sure how to fit two amazing weeks of my life into a short narrative. Not that I think I can now, but at least I feel like trying.

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After a short stop in Johannesburg to get visas, say hi to our friend Simon, and reunite with Jozi, we took a late night bus to Maputo, Mozambique. This is the part of the trip we had all been waiting for, the magnet that pulled us so far east. The tropical beaches and friendly people of Mozambique. So, it was well worth it when we had the bus ride from hell. 12 hours, 3 sweaty men, 1 completely disorganized border crossing and a broken luggage trailer later, we reached the gritty streets of Maputo, the Mozambican capitol - nearly without said luggage (the thing broke off, went rogue and smashed into some cop car...bad ass. T.I.A., mothalova).

Maputo, Maputo Providence, Mozambique

Our time in Maputo was nothing to write home about. We weren't there for long and while we were, the weather was less than desirable. So two days after our arrival, we woke up at 5am to take a bus at 5:30 and we left around 8.

We took a tiny, rickety old bus stuffed full of Mozambicans, but 9 hours later, we were in paradise....

Tofo, Inhabane Providence, Mozambique

Everything you've ever imagined a tropical paradise to be, Tofo is. Empty, white beaches. Warm, turquoise water. Banana shakes and miles of smiling faces. Tofo was heaven on earth. Our days consisted of swimming, sunning, drinking smoothies, swimming, talking to locals, swimming, reading, swimming and sunning. I think I covered it all. We were there for a week and a half - longer than we had anticipated, but we just couldn't pry ourselves away. Someday we will return for John Tomato and Elvis.

The locals we met in the market, along with the staff at our backpackers (it was Fatima's if anyone is interested... by far the best one in town. Beach access, super chilled communal area and the best smoothies you could ask for. Not to mention, it goes off), were some of the friendliest people I have encountered. The tour books said they were known for being nice, but damn. Although it's one of the poorest countries in the world, people are just straight happy, generous and helpful. It was a sort of "the less you have, the less you have to worry about" vibe and I really dug it. Overall, one of the best weeks of my entire life. I could have set up shop and stayed for a while. However, our flight out was booked through Vilankulos, a tiny town just a few hours north, so we had to move on.

Vilankulos, Inhabane Providence, Mozambique

At this point in our trip, we were all pretty exhausted. We had taken subways, public busses, greyhounds, trains, horses, mini busses, taxis, and boats to get to that point, and we were ready to melt into hammocks all over the place. For this last leg of the trip, we just chilled. To the max. But one day stood out, and I still wish I could replay it every weekend or so. We joined a group of people at our backpackers - some couples and an Israeli dude named Ron that we had seen a couple different times on our trip - and went on a day tour of the island of Magaruque in the breathtaking Bazaruto Archipelago. After an hour long sail over the crystal clear water and spanning sand bars, we anchored off of a long reef and went snorkeling. Unfortunately, the tide changed just as we got there, so it lowered visibility, but it was still a perfectly lovely afternoon. After a few hours of swimming, the crew made us fresh crab and fish (that they caught while we were swimming) and we chilled under palm trees on the sand. Then we walked around the island, catching little crabs as they washed into our feet until we finally met back up with the dhow and watched the sun set as we sailed home. Ideal? I think so. Unreal.

Since the shallow area between main land and the island was dotted with sandbars, there were also several sick days when the tide pulled out 100 yards or so, leaving boats stranded.

And then, we were done.

We had come a long way in that month, and it was time to fly home. Although I was ready to have my bed, shower and boyfriend, I couldn't stop watching out the window of the plane, hoping I wouldn't have to leave just yet. I'm not sure what I miss more - the water, the people, or the delicious 50 cent mangos, but I know it won't be my last time there. Mozambique humbled me in the way traveling is supposed to. More so than in any area I had seen before, these people with virtually nothing were so unexplainably happy. It makes you think about the things that get you down when you have no real problems. Does it take having nothing to be truly happy? Should we cast away all material possessions to live this enlightened, blissful life? ....That's a bit drastic. But, next time I'm letting "First World Problems" get me down, I'll rethink it and remind myself how lucky I am to live the life I live.

Live globally,

KG

Love is Love

Last weekend, PASSOP participated in the Cape Town Gay Pride parade! Cape Town is the hub of the gay community all across Africa, as most African countries are extremely homophobic. It was so amazing to see such support and love on the streets of Green Point. Gays, lesbians, transgenders, bisexuals, straights - everything was represented and loved that day; the energy was infectious. However, coming from San Francisco, the festivities were bittersweet for me. I mean, the gay community in SF is not only the most vibrant part of the city, but it's a world wide symbol of unconditional, limitless love. And here I was, at this parade of maybe twenty cars in what is the largest show of gay pride in an entire continent. Streets weren't even blocked off, we rode through with the flow of traffic. And I'm not saying this to knock the parade or the event, it was beautiful and inspiring; I just think it's a little sad - for all of the diverse forms of love in Cape Town and Africa as a whole. Whenever I told someone I was a student in San Francisco, they gushed over the city and their dreams to someday move there and find true freedom and equality. But I just kept thinking that I hope that Africa some day becomes a place that will be just as loving so they don't have to leave.

Live gayly,

KG

A Plea for Help

Whenever I’m in the office, I’m likely to hear someone’s horrific story of how they got to South Africa or how they were treated once they got here and sadly, it is all too common. I hate to say it, but I've become a bit numbed to the tragedies of refugees. But, a few weeks ago, I met a family that truly shook me. As soon as I heard their story, I knew that I needed to help them as much as I possibly could in any way that I could. And I’m desperate to do so.

Lawrence and Richard Roti are 17 and 13, respectively. They are the two wonderful Zimbabwean boys that I met today. They are both in wheelchairs and unable to obtain the proper care or education they need. They haven’t even been medically diagnosed, but Lawrence is thought to have Spinal Muscular Dystrophy while Richard might suffers from Cerebral Palsy.

Here are the brothers with our volunteer Eunice, their Uncle Michael and their adorable cousin Angelina. Richard is on the left and Lawrence is on the right.

Originally, they boys lived in an extremely impoverished rural part of Zimbabwe called Guruve. They lived there with their parents until their father died and their mother became overwhelmingly weak with HIV related illnesses. They were then adopted by their uncle’s, Michael and Fidellis, who decided it was best to move them to South Africa in January of last year. Since then, they have lived in a township called Phillipi just outside of Cape Town with their uncles, both unemployed. Soon after they settled down, Michael and Fidellis were attacked on the street by a man with a screwdriver. Fidellis did not survive. The attack seemed random at first, but they began to realize that their neighbors were jealous of the aid they were receiving from The Chaeli Campaign, an NGO that specializes in helping disabled children. Although they have some idea who the attacker was, no one has involved the police for fear of being targeted further.

Now, Lawrence and Richard are left in the care of Michael and his wife Sibongile, who are both unemployed and must care for their own daughter, as well. The boys are not attending school or physiotherapy and they are deteriorating. On top of that, they live in fear of another attack. PASSOP and The Chaeli Campaign are doing all that we can, but we are grassroots organizations with small budgets and can’t sustain them for very much longer. Michael has attempted suicide due to the stress and helplessness he has felt over the last few months. We are terrified that if we don't get more help soon, he will try again, leaving the boys on their own.

When I met these boys and their family, my heart ached. Handicapped people are often overlooked or ignored in Africa, many times they are even believed to be a curse on the family or a warning from God. But they're just sweet, innocent little boys with a downtrodden, hopeless gaze stuck in their eyes. Through very broken English, they told me that all they wanted was a toy to play with sometimes. Richard wants a tank and Lawrence wants a race car, but I want to give them so much more.

If you have any idea how we can help these boys or if you are in the position to personally donate money, clothes, toys, anything at all - it would be appreciated beyond explanation. Tell your parents, your friends, your church, your classmates, your co-workers. Tell the people you meet on the bus or the woman who serves you coffee this evening. Please. We are in an incredible position to improve the quality of these boys lives, and relieve some of the stress their family is dealing with. Every single bit of help, no matter how small it may seem to you, will drastically improve their situation. They have seen so many days of pain and suffering, I just want to give them a little hope. This is not an informercial with a weepy song behind images of distended bellies and kids rummaging in landfills, this is your friend asking you to help a family in desperate need. I urge - no actually - I beg you to reach out and help PASSOP in our efforts. Contact me or PASSOP for details on how to donate to the Roti brothers, I can guarantee that any donation will go towards the immediate needs of the boys and their family.

Live generously,

KG