Sumido

I did more evening strolls today, trying not to mislay important items this time. I went to my old street and some of the guards were around. ‘Sumido’, said Avelino, which means ‘disappeared’ and is the version of ‘long time stranger’ that people use here. It feels less annoying a phrase when separated by a linguistic barrier. However I do think the guards think my name is Ruben.

I will forever be astounded at the feeling of finishing work at a reasonable hour. I left the office on time, walked for several kilometres around the city, had some delicious food and it was still barely 8pm. It was also extremely pleasant walking without a face mask, as Mozambique only quite recently dropped its mandate. In the hot season it used to be draining to have a mask on city strolls. The Natural History Museum was looking quite horror film-y in the moody skies.

During my dinner I stumbled on what may be the perfect juice combination, based on how my lip sensors reacted. The restaurant server one that was manga, ata, banana and malambe translated as mango, custard apple, banana and baobab fruit.