LUANDA, THAT MOST EXTRA-ORDINARY CITY
So, here is the next installment of the continuing saga of Lotty and I in Angola.
Before we arrived here we had been told all manner of horror stories about Luanda, about how it was the most expensive city in the world, how dangerous it was to venture alone onto its crime ridden streets and how chaotic it was. The result of this was that the first time we went into the city (safely tucked up in our school bus, with uniformed guard) we were all terrified to set foot out of the bus. It duly arrived at the "South African Super Market", which we were being shown, as a good place to shop, This is a smallish supermarket, surrounded by a high cement wall with armed guards at the entrance to the parking lot, as well as at the entrance to the supermarket itself. Taking all our courage in our hands, we climbed cautiously out of our bus into the heat of a Luandan afternoon, and hurried into the supermarket to do our shopping.
Once I had managed to sort out how the price of things was indicated, I felt that the info about it being expensive here was true..The prices were terrible! Anyhow, I gritted my teeth and bought the few things I needed (Lotty was working, so not on this first trip). I then took my purchases and hurried back to the safety of our bus, parked in the car park. However, the others were still happily engaged in their shopping, so I was alone in the bus. After a bit I felt silly, so I got out again and walked over to the gate, and peered cautiously out into the street..And experienced Luanda for the first time in the flesh, as it were, and not from behind the window of a secure bus. Frankly I was scared, the street was filthy, and stank, and there were groups of Angolans sitting around looking suspicious, and to my eyes, dangerous. When they saw me, some of them came rushing towards me, shouting..... So I nipped hurriedly back into the car park. What I hadn't realised was that they simply wished to try and sell me things, bananas, vegs and so on (Luanda is full of street traders).
So, this was my first attempt to set foot on a Luanda street..a dismal failure owing to what I had been told about the place by our esteemed administration.
I have since discovered that in spite of having lived here for a number of years, they have never actually walked around in Luanda on their own, and have not got a clue about the place.
Having survived this baptism of Luandan fire, I was very happy to return to our safe, walled and guarded compound.
In the following week, I was told that I had to go into town to buy a lot of materials for the computer department here, and to be honest, the prospect scared the hell out of me as it entailed going into town on my own (well, a driver for the bus) and actually walking on the streets on my own, and going into shops on my own.... With my wonderful Portuguese? And my fear of the place too? Hmmmmmmmmm.....
Anyhow, being British, I firmed up my upper lip and set off bravely. When we finally (it can take up to two hours to get into the centre of Luanda from here owing to the incredible traffic) arrived at the first shop I had to go to, and the driver parked the van in a dingy car park beside the road and pointed out the shop to me and settled down in his seat to wait for me I realised that my moment of truth was upon me! So, bravely, out I got, and set off towards the shop.
Now, the streets of Luanda are not much more than mud tracks by and large, covered in a thick layer of filth, all manner of rubbish festering happily away, plus groups of women sitting around selling things, or simply sitting and dressing each other's hair. Also, there are always groups of young men standing around doing nothing in particular, and almost wall to wall cars, trucks and other vehicles (many of which would give any European Cop a heart attack they are in such appalling condition). So I carefully navigated my way between all of these obstacles, and even managed to cross the busy road to get to the shop. And then I discovered the truth about Luanda, and Angola in general..................... The people here are friendly, easy to talk to, and extremely helpful to an idiotic, pink, sweaty person such as I was at that time. They appear to have absolutely no feelings of antipathy to white people, or even particularly to register that I am white. The only thing which caused comment was my beard... But that is the same almost everywhere I go.
Thus, it transpired that my fears were completely groundless, Luanda is a safe city for someone such as myself to wander around in on his own. Once I had made this discovery I was unstoppable. I finished my shopping that day, with complete success, using a mix of English, French, my tiny amount of Portuguese and a lot of good will, I was able to communicate my needs OK. So, it was a much relieved Tony who returned to the school that day.
Since then, I have become completely at home in this city, using cheap Luanda supermarkets, drinking in Luandan bars and cafes, in preference to the ones used by the expat community, and generally enjoying the place a lot.
I would go so far as to say that in spite of the enormous problems here (4 or 5 million displaced people living in a city designed for about 500 000), lousy, or non existent drainage, water supply and usable infra structure, it is one of the safest feeling cities I have ever been in. I like the place!
Lotty hasn't really had much chance yet to discover Luanda, owing to her tremendous work load, sadly.... But we are now working on this together. This is why this section is mostly about me, and not Lotty, she will come into her own in the sections about our visits to Namibe and Huambo.
Luanda is a strange mix of the Middle Ages and the late 50's, both in terms of the architecture and the living conditions. There are elegant houses in quiet side streets, quite beautiful old Portuguese style houses, but the streets they are on are swamps with filth and stink everywhere.
The whole place is a weird mix of rich and poor side by side. The traffic is insane, mainly caused by the infamous white and blue taxi vans every where (anyone who has been to Africa will know these taxis, I am told they are endemic in Africa). these are driven by young men who seem completely insane, they roar along the pavement, on the wrong side of the road, hurtling about, stopping with no warning, crashing regularly, overfilled with passengers ( I have seen them hurtling along with people's legs and bums sticking out of the windows they are so stuffed with people. Almost all of them are falling apart, and alarmingly, almost all of them have front windscreens that have been hit really hard at some point. They are a complete menace, and you wouldn't get me in one for any money!
However, they are the main form of public transport here, which is sad, as they kill no end of people every year I am told.
As in most African cities, the inhabitants tend to live their lives out on the streets, rather than in their homes, which given that most of them live in shanty towns or dreadful 50's style high rise flats built by the Cubans, is understandable. So the streets are always full of people, sitting, talking, working and getting on with their lives. Sadly, the streets are also full of cripples, mainly from Polio and landmine victims, beggars and street kids, which is very distressing to see. Like a lot of people here, I give small amounts of money to these people when I see them, but basically there is nothing one can do to help.. It is horrible! I have no pictures of landmine victims or polio victims, no way I could point a camera at someone in that condition.
And, as a young friend of ours who is in Angola to clear land mines says, one also sees a lot of people who have given up and cracked under the conditions of life here...Walking along the streets, shrieking their anguish, or curled up in foetal positions in odd places. It is a very powerful experience, being in a city like Luanda, one I shall never forget!
On the positive side, in spite of the awful conditions of most people in Luanda, the people radiate a feeling of positive energy and happiness which is astounding.. And they smile so much too. If I had to live as they do, I cant imagine I would be able to rustle up even a fraction of this energy and apparent happiness. Amazing people, the Angolans are.
I could go on for hours about Luanda, but I hope the above will give you a bit of an idea about the place, and looking at the pictures, then you will understand, perhaps.
An extra ordinary place, full of contradictions.
Side street in Luanda after rain
Before we arrived here we had been told all manner of horror stories about Luanda, about how it was the most expensive city in the world, how dangerous it was to venture alone onto its crime ridden streets and how chaotic it was. The result of this was that the first time we went into the city (safely tucked up in our school bus, with uniformed guard) we were all terrified to set foot out of the bus. It duly arrived at the "South African Super Market", which we were being shown, as a good place to shop, This is a smallish supermarket, surrounded by a high cement wall with armed guards at the entrance to the parking lot, as well as at the entrance to the supermarket itself. Taking all our courage in our hands, we climbed cautiously out of our bus into the heat of a Luandan afternoon, and hurried into the supermarket to do our shopping.
Once I had managed to sort out how the price of things was indicated, I felt that the info about it being expensive here was true..The prices were terrible! Anyhow, I gritted my teeth and bought the few things I needed (Lotty was working, so not on this first trip). I then took my purchases and hurried back to the safety of our bus, parked in the car park. However, the others were still happily engaged in their shopping, so I was alone in the bus. After a bit I felt silly, so I got out again and walked over to the gate, and peered cautiously out into the street..And experienced Luanda for the first time in the flesh, as it were, and not from behind the window of a secure bus. Frankly I was scared, the street was filthy, and stank, and there were groups of Angolans sitting around looking suspicious, and to my eyes, dangerous. When they saw me, some of them came rushing towards me, shouting..... So I nipped hurriedly back into the car park. What I hadn't realised was that they simply wished to try and sell me things, bananas, vegs and so on (Luanda is full of street traders).
So, this was my first attempt to set foot on a Luanda street..a dismal failure owing to what I had been told about the place by our esteemed administration.
I have since discovered that in spite of having lived here for a number of years, they have never actually walked around in Luanda on their own, and have not got a clue about the place.
Having survived this baptism of Luandan fire, I was very happy to return to our safe, walled and guarded compound.
In the following week, I was told that I had to go into town to buy a lot of materials for the computer department here, and to be honest, the prospect scared the hell out of me as it entailed going into town on my own (well, a driver for the bus) and actually walking on the streets on my own, and going into shops on my own.... With my wonderful Portuguese? And my fear of the place too? Hmmmmmmmmm.....
Street kids
Anyhow, being British, I firmed up my upper lip and set off bravely. When we finally (it can take up to two hours to get into the centre of Luanda from here owing to the incredible traffic) arrived at the first shop I had to go to, and the driver parked the van in a dingy car park beside the road and pointed out the shop to me and settled down in his seat to wait for me I realised that my moment of truth was upon me! So, bravely, out I got, and set off towards the shop.
A slum on the edge of Luanda
Now, the streets of Luanda are not much more than mud tracks by and large, covered in a thick layer of filth, all manner of rubbish festering happily away, plus groups of women sitting around selling things, or simply sitting and dressing each other's hair. Also, there are always groups of young men standing around doing nothing in particular, and almost wall to wall cars, trucks and other vehicles (many of which would give any European Cop a heart attack they are in such appalling condition). So I carefully navigated my way between all of these obstacles, and even managed to cross the busy road to get to the shop. And then I discovered the truth about Luanda, and Angola in general..................... The people here are friendly, easy to talk to, and extremely helpful to an idiotic, pink, sweaty person such as I was at that time. They appear to have absolutely no feelings of antipathy to white people, or even particularly to register that I am white. The only thing which caused comment was my beard... But that is the same almost everywhere I go.
Well, it beats walking!
Thus, it transpired that my fears were completely groundless, Luanda is a safe city for someone such as myself to wander around in on his own. Once I had made this discovery I was unstoppable. I finished my shopping that day, with complete success, using a mix of English, French, my tiny amount of Portuguese and a lot of good will, I was able to communicate my needs OK. So, it was a much relieved Tony who returned to the school that day.
The Marginale, the water front downtown
Since then, I have become completely at home in this city, using cheap Luanda supermarkets, drinking in Luandan bars and cafes, in preference to the ones used by the expat community, and generally enjoying the place a lot.
I would go so far as to say that in spite of the enormous problems here (4 or 5 million displaced people living in a city designed for about 500 000), lousy, or non existent drainage, water supply and usable infra structure, it is one of the safest feeling cities I have ever been in. I like the place!
One of the main streets downtown, on a peaceful day
Lotty hasn't really had much chance yet to discover Luanda, owing to her tremendous work load, sadly.... But we are now working on this together. This is why this section is mostly about me, and not Lotty, she will come into her own in the sections about our visits to Namibe and Huambo.
Luanda is a strange mix of the Middle Ages and the late 50's, both in terms of the architecture and the living conditions. There are elegant houses in quiet side streets, quite beautiful old Portuguese style houses, but the streets they are on are swamps with filth and stink everywhere.
Typical street scene in central Luanda
The whole place is a weird mix of rich and poor side by side. The traffic is insane, mainly caused by the infamous white and blue taxi vans every where (anyone who has been to Africa will know these taxis, I am told they are endemic in Africa). these are driven by young men who seem completely insane, they roar along the pavement, on the wrong side of the road, hurtling about, stopping with no warning, crashing regularly, overfilled with passengers ( I have seen them hurtling along with people's legs and bums sticking out of the windows they are so stuffed with people. Almost all of them are falling apart, and alarmingly, almost all of them have front windscreens that have been hit really hard at some point. They are a complete menace, and you wouldn't get me in one for any money!
However, they are the main form of public transport here, which is sad, as they kill no end of people every year I am told.
As in most African cities, the inhabitants tend to live their lives out on the streets, rather than in their homes, which given that most of them live in shanty towns or dreadful 50's style high rise flats built by the Cubans, is understandable. So the streets are always full of people, sitting, talking, working and getting on with their lives. Sadly, the streets are also full of cripples, mainly from Polio and landmine victims, beggars and street kids, which is very distressing to see. Like a lot of people here, I give small amounts of money to these people when I see them, but basically there is nothing one can do to help.. It is horrible! I have no pictures of landmine victims or polio victims, no way I could point a camera at someone in that condition.
Normal street scene downtown
And, as a young friend of ours who is in Angola to clear land mines says, one also sees a lot of people who have given up and cracked under the conditions of life here...Walking along the streets, shrieking their anguish, or curled up in foetal positions in odd places. It is a very powerful experience, being in a city like Luanda, one I shall never forget!
On the positive side, in spite of the awful conditions of most people in Luanda, the people radiate a feeling of positive energy and happiness which is astounding.. And they smile so much too. If I had to live as they do, I cant imagine I would be able to rustle up even a fraction of this energy and apparent happiness. Amazing people, the Angolans are.
One of the main shopping streets downtown
I could go on for hours about Luanda, but I hope the above will give you a bit of an idea about the place, and looking at the pictures, then you will understand, perhaps.
An extra ordinary place, full of contradictions.