So much of Mozambique is in ruins. Cities and towns and villages showcase hollow buildings with the prosperity shot out of them. I decided not to take too many pictures of the shocking meagreness that ironically overwhelms there, but to focus on the fleeting moments of magic.
Excluding the hotel staff and the people in the photos, I was treated really badly by the locals. They called me names, gave me intimidating stares, refused to communicate, swore, sniggered. I think it’s because they are not used to seeing black travelers and mistook my curiosity for something else… negative… I cannot imagine what but I hate to think that Mozambicans are in fact the people they showed me to be.
XaiXai in the South is a lesser known beach town, which is now by the way devastated by floods. That is where I spent most of my time with my family.
It comes down to the question: Would I return?
Yes. Everybody needs a second chance… Mozambique was wounded by civil war; has healed and is now simply limping along.
2013 Xai Xai