Supermarket meat market

And I was the meat. I was at the department store in the swanky mall along the seafront, as I wanted some more pillows (almofadas) and an extra fan (ventilador) to combat the weather which has turned damp and windy but still very warm and humid.

Then, a new experience. I was shopping distractedly but I remembered (afterwards) a heavily made up woman loitering in the aisles. Didn't think anything of it at the time. As I exited the shop she was waiting and greeted me. I gave a friendly hello and scurried away. As I waited for a taxi a young lad did the Portuguese version of, 'oi mate, that woman over there is trying to get your attention.' She'd followed me out of the shop, on the premise of wanting to 'be friends', but I didn't believe that she was hanging around chatting to strangers whilst her pregnant friend shopped for clothes. She mistook me for a man who may be interested in initiating some sort of friendship/relationship, which many men might. It certainly shouldn't be the default to pity people in these situations or to assume that someone like her is struggling for money, but I can't rationalise any other motive.

It's very resourceful to hang around in shops, catching people's attention as a tactic to meet prospective partners/lovers/friends, and likely related to needing some financial security in life, either for herself or her family, or both. It's no coincidence that the supermarket where I was would be out of the reach of a lot of Mozambicans, and there are huge differentials in wealth here, with an extremely wealthy elite, and a mass of poor. The middle class is small, especially outside of Maputo.

Although I have been bleating about needing new friends, I don't think she was the correct avenue to pursue. I thought it would complicate matters to agree to her desire to swap numbers, so we had a hugely awkward exchange whilst I dodged the fact she was holding her phone out, expectantly waiting to type in my number. I eventually said there couldn't be any possibility of a romantic element, which I didn't deem a risk to disclose due to where we were, and the fact that Mozambique (read: Maputo, not necessarily the country at large) is progressive for Africa. It evaporated some of the awkwardness but she still wanted my number. In the moment it felt like a situation I'd have to manage in the future, so I resisted and when it became too uncomfortable, she walked away dejectedly.

Earlier I'd done a good bit of strolling and went to the Natural History Museum. It doesn't help with the hatred of snakes across much of Africa that in Portuguese the general word for one is 'cobra'. Telling people that the vast majority of snakes are entirely harmless and help by controlling vermin is as pointless as telling a Brexiteer that 'claiming back our sovereignty' holds any relevance as a sentence.

Michael Heseltine, of all people, had brought a tear to the eye first thing in a very heartfelt clip about his Brexit sentiments. I'd had a chilled morning catching up on the latest Brexit paralysis and learning my Portuguese vocab for household items (see above).