So I took a couple of road trips my first few months here. Back then I didn't know my way around enough to fly by myself anywhere and if I wanted to go outta state to meet relatives, I'd hop in the car with someone headed that way already. My first trip was to Benguela.
It was with my cousin, Nelito. He's crazy. Like, you know, crazy. Driving all kinds of crazy ways at all kinds of crazy speeds at crazy hours. We left on Saturday evening, right after sunset, even though I had to be back in Luanda Monday morning... Benguela is about 7 or 8 hrs away, for normal ppl. At Nelito's pace, it's 6 hrs. Looking back, I know better than to ever do that again.
First of all, the road to Benguela has not yet been reconstructed since the war finished. It's paved and all... but it's very old pavement and cracks and holes pop up unexpectedly all through the journey. What's worse, it's not lit. At all. There are NO street lights the WHOLE way, except at random little towns (there's like 3 of them on the way) we passed through. If I had known back then the amount of fatal accidents that take place on that road... well, maybe I still would've gone, 'cause I'm an optimist like that, but I think I would've at LEAST hesitated... heehee.
Nelito is oodles of fun. He's 26, and he's one of those guys that thinks he knows it all and is invincible (not in an annoying way, more in a oooh look at my muscles/look how fast I can drive/look mommy, no hands! kind of way) and the whole way we kept talking about everything and everyone at the same time. Me, being new in Angola (I think I had been here about a month) asking all about the family, what everyone is like, who's who (our family tree gets VERY confusing) and all of that... all the while he's asking all about what it's like in America, and we both insisted that satisfying our own curiosity is more important than the other's. Although I had only met him less than 24 before, there was nary a lull in our conversation. I think it helps that we're both very talkative... that's how we knew we's fam, lol.
We made it to Benguela around 1 am, and instead of going straight to his dad's house, he gave me a mini tour of the city. It was lovely, from what I could see in the dark...
We made it into the driveway, where the other cousins were waiting to meet me. I got out of the car, and I peered at two ppl peering back at me curiously... I however was more awed than them, for there, before my very eyes, stood Vivaldo and Dina. I broke into a huge smile and said 'Dinha? (I know, even their nicknames are similar) you look just like DINA!!' she just laughed and we hugged a big hug, like long-lost sisters that were only familiar with each other's voice over the phone. Then I hugged Mamito... He looks just like Vivaldo. He's tall, bald, and wears a well-trimmed beard, JUST like him, I kid you not. He even had a more casual version of Viva's style. With the dark wash jeans, pumas, and rolled up well-tailored button up. Dinha doesn't have Dina's face, but she has her body... in the darkness her silhouette looked JUST like my baby sis'. I could not believe it, it felt so weird to recognize familiar features in ppl that were virtually total strangers to me. Within minutes though, we really felt like family. Story after story was told of childhood memories, we laughed at common stories we had heard from our mothers, and they told me that me being there made them feel like a little piece of their mom was with them... Tia Rosa, my mom's favorite sister, who passed away about 15 years ago...
I had to wait until morning to meet my uncle. He is the famous Tio Ze that I've heard so many stories about. And it's true, he does get up at 5 am and loudly bellows his hymns in a beautifully raspy baritone voice as he does his personal worship. I was living my mom's anecdotes of her childhood. What a privilege. Tio Ze and Tia Rosa took my mom in when she was a teenager, a village girl coming to the city full of hopes and dreams. I got to see the old store where she used to work part-time for Tio Ze, where she eventually met my dad and their story started. I got to sleep in the same room where my mom slept when she lived with them. I got to walk barefoot on the old floors that Tia Rosa used to so famously polish until there wasn't ONE SPECK of dirt left upon them. It was surreal. I loved it all.
I don't know if it's because it's such a big part of my mom's history, or because it is genuinely a beautiful city... but Benguela is my favorite place in Angola thus far. I've been to a couple of other cities since that trip, and I have many more lined up for the upcoming holidays (yall know we get a lot of those, lol), but I think I've made up my mind. I know where I'm gonna sit in my rocking chair and watch the hustle and bustle of life around me as I rest my old bones and think of days gone by. I'm gonna retire rested, happy, and fulfilled, in Benguela.
More on this later :) Much love!
