10/08/2009 Mueda (Second and last part)
Oh you had to be gone just as I said in my previous post. The quacking che avevamo sentito venire da fuori proveniva proprio dalla nostra cena che infatti ci è stata servita non prima di un’ora e mezza da quando avevamo decretato la condanna a morte delle galinhe, da quando cioè, in altri termini, avevamo ordinato pollo per cena. Comunque mors tua vita mea: le galinhe, con tanto di patate fritte, erano ottime e certamente quanto meno freschissime.
Il giorno dopo, svegliandoci di buon ora, lasciamo la nostra lussuosa pensione senza acqua corrente e senza elettricità (come d’altronde però tutto il resto della ridente cittadina) per fare un giretto del posto.
Come spesso accade le cose più belle ci si presentano dinnanzi non richieste. Visitando i dintorni di Mueda ci accorgiamo infatti che la periferia è più bella e caratteristica del centro. Tra l’altro anche dal punto di vista paesaggistico non è poi così male… Avvicinandoci al limite occidentale del villaggio ci si può accorgere del fatto che Mueda sorge su un’altura che un burrone divide dalla valle sottostante. Il colpo d’occhio è da mozzare il fiato. Niente a che vedere con le impressioni pessime del giorno prima.
Stiamo per tornare verso la pensione per cercare qualcosa da mangiare per colazione quando veniamo incuriositi dal ritmico suonare di alcuni bonghi and drums, coming from the end of the main road. And here in the shady trees of leaves, Makonde women tattooed on your face dance their traditional dances dressed in colorful clothes. Some wore wooden masks that completely cover the face.
The thing goes on all morning and most importantly free. We learn that Mueda is a feast for the anniversary of the massacre of the same name. This explains the fact that all traditional schools of dance are meeting on the highway. In the face of those who wanted to charge us to show them!
No passionate about dance let alone know how to dance (once the home goalkeeper of my seeing a smooth dance told me I could dance even the initials of the news and I do not think that was a compliment) but I must say that all that frantic wiggle of also contrasted with deadpan solemnity of the wooden masks had something of impressive.
the afternoon to continue our wanderings we visited the little villages around the eastern outskirts of Mueda constituents. And here's fate would have it even possible to find even the infamous wooden objects Crafts Makonde. But the authenticity of everything I personally have serious doubts. The sculptor I see intent on turning a wooden mortar with his lathe operated by foot the day before it certainly was not there. We were in fact been there the night before and no doubt remember that they were building the unlikely wooden windows.
To confirm my supposition is the fact that the evening at dusk we see the type, the so-called Makonde sculptor, go on a scooter with loads boxes of unsold sculptures to go somewhere.
I think the sculptures came from the timber market in Dar Es Salaam where they are produced most craft works in wood sold in this part of Africa.
We, however, in doubt, the sculptures of the Makonde Makonde-like or we buy it anyway!
(Now you are certainly on display in our homes, at least in mine, and we can pass off as original Makonde without fear of contradiction. I believe that the probability to count among my guests an expert on Makonde art is quite remote ...)
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