Chimoio, civil war memorial
We had been warned about changing USD into Meticais in the streets. The trick used is simple. The money is counted by both parties a few times, bills are added and then taken away: the very last time the money is passed the bills on the bottom of the pile are pulled out.
With banks closed Friday afternoon and the bus leaving the same night, we had to get money somewhere for buying tickets. We figured being alert would beat the trick. Not before long we were approached on a street corner. The guys quoted an okay exchange rate, the money was counted right under our watchful eyes. We counted again, a bill was added, the guys counted again, we counted again, slowly without folding the bills. Deal done!
Paying for the bus ticket to Vilankulo, I noticed being 40 USD short. Did I lose the money? Over lunch Jason spread his bills on the table and then we knew we both had been cheated, despite of being so careful. Our minds were like a knot, calculating and looking at the new bank notes. All of a sudden we seemed to be unable to calculate two plus two. I guess this is exactly what the moneychangers count on.
Having paid 50 USD for the bus and 40 USD short, we urgently needed money again. A bit paranoid, we asked at the biggest hotel. The man at the reception praised us for our decision and scorned the “scum” in the street who had also cheated him and his sister. He entrusted us to a friend who came to the hotel. At the end Jason and I were each 30 USD short, but now we put our foot down. The guy was called by telephone, returned and we successfully claimed our money back. We hardly could believe that he really returned. Now we had tickets for a bus leaving at 02:00 am that night and checked out the city.
But the worst was yet to come: while a German girl and I were eating our dinner in the garden of the hostel, two Tanzanian guys (that’s what they claimed to be) stole my brand-new MacBook Air. They had rented the neighboring room and had only checked in for the purpose of stealing. They had no luggage and no intention of staying the night there…
What really broke me was that they talked and joked with us before they took off with my stuff. We assumed the names and passport numbers they gave were fake, because the Pink Papaya has a policy of not checking passports. This, plus the fact that it was Friday evening and our bus was leaving at 02:00 am, we decided against reporting the theft to the police The owner of the hostel was sympathetic, but hinted going to the police would be a waste of time. The officer, who had to sign such a statement, was already gone for the weekend. You may think this cannot be topped? Read on...
Picture by Jason Risley.
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