Boas Festas
Kelli and I were sitting around a few days before Christmas discussing last minute gift plans for our families when I stopped mid-sentence, slapped my forehead and snorted, “Ha … oh man … awe … shit. I just realized that I haven’t even begun to think about what I’m going to get you for Christmas!”
We looked at one another and burst out laughing. It was obvious that she hadn’t put any thought into it either. Somehow exchanging little gifts this year didn’t feel right.
So we decided right then and there: no gifts—we’ll treat ourselves to a vacation. January or February, perhaps? Can someone say São Tomé?
Cuca Tree
Christmas and New Year in Cabinda were mellow to say the least. You don’t have to worry about in-your-face consumerism or silly themed parties around these parts. Nope.
Decorations consisted of dudes on the street hawking made-in-China X-mas lights (with eight settings!) or fantastic tinsel Tannenbaums. Although there was a two-night New Years party we could have gone to for the Angola-sized price of $150. No thanks.
O Tannenbaum
So on both Christmas and New Years eves, Kelli and I enjoyed BBQ on the roof of the “staff house,” complete with local shrimp and ribs and chicken and cakes of every shape and size.
On Christmas Eve, our friend Nina joined us and we took a stroll to the main square of Cabinda, which is a block away from our building. We happened upon an outdoor mass at the Catholic Church, which is about the only image you’ll find of Cabinda on the internets.
We chatted and mingled and people-watched as the locals came to listen to the sermon and socialize. At one point I was accosted by three teenage girls who said something I couldn’t understand and looked astonished when I told them “Sou Americano.”
You don’t see many Americans in Cabinda.
Merry merry
New Years Eve consisted of more or less the same routine: BBQ dinner before Kelli and I relaxed on the patio, playing gin rummy and sipping vodka tonics (quinine fights malaria, you know). Then we hit the streets for a Portuguese countdown, ‘feliz ano novo’ and distant fireworks.
We’ll leave the big-time parties for another year. For now, we’re just taking it in and enjoying our first New Year in Africa.
Boas festas!
