Between Luanda and Malanje - The essence of a land and its people

They say that we are disconnected, that contemporary society lives either in the past or in the future, that there is little ‘present’in us. The confines of your home are comfortable, your routine journey to work is safe. Life is lived on autopilot, while the sterilising routine casts a shadow that doesn’t allow us to see beyond the tangible. But the cycle can be broken. Travelling expands the mind, breaks down the otherness that has been felt for millennia. It allows us to get to know our fellow human beings in body and the distinctiveness that exists in traditions and customs. And that is what V&G set out to do. There are few moments like those about to be described in the next few lines, which as a whole culminate in a journey to stimulate the senses, where the only thing you can be sure of is that everything on this planet is connected. In total, the journey will take four days through savannahs, plains and rocky escarpments, allowing you to get to know part of Angola’s deep interior. 

It’s five o’clock sharp, the sun is still hiding and we’re in Angola, facing the Bay of Luanda. With water in our rucksack and a lens on our chest, we set off at the wheel of a Land Rover. The orange earth accompanies us the whole way, as does the vegetation that strangely stretches right up to the road. In the meantime, people are starting another day. It’s now 6 in the morning and the movement proves that the Angolan people are indeed early risers. Women balance baskets on their heads, many of them responsible for distributing the morning bread, while children scamper to the edge of the road to greet passers-by. The lorries travel along the routes which have been planned for the day, responsible for bringing industry and services to Angola. From inside the car, you can feel the swerves caused by the imperfections of the route, which cause positions inside the car to shift. Legs to the right, legs to the left, to the rhythm of the music playing on the radio, as if to confirm that everything is as it should be. The vegetation becomes sparser and greener as we get closer to Malanje, the first destination on our itinerary. Baobab trees can be seen in greater numbers and, on the roadsides, goats rest under the theatrical shadows of the trees. For a few seconds, our gaze is drawn to a child sitting at a fruit stall at one of the improvised markets, where we learn about the fresh produce of the morning, from fruit to freshly caught fish. Then the villages begin to appear, one after the other, and young girls can be seen learning to balance their heads with their mothers.

Kalandula Falls, Malanje

After almost 500 kilometres, we turn off onto a road that requires us to zigzag through scraps of tarmac, potholes and dirt, and we arrive at Kalandula Falls. We decide to spend the night at the foot of this natural wonder, at the Pousada das Quedas de Kalandula. When we get out of the car, we are greeted by the spray brought by the wind. It’s quite incredible how the water from the falls is already making itself felt and we haven’t even seen them yet. We put down our suitcases and familiarise ourselves with the place. From our room we can see the imposing sight of the 105-metre-high falls, a scene that seems to come right into the room. The décor is simple and light, focused on emphasising what lies beyond the balcony. With all the necessary amenities, the hotel has a history of ups and downs. Built in the 1950s, during the Portuguese colonial period, it was abandoned for decades due to the Angolan civil war. The falls were left without a hotel for years, until businessman Francisco Faísca decided to invest in the refurbishment of the pousada, which also involved the regeneration of 500 hectares for agricultural production. Today, its surroundings are dedicated to the production of soya, cassava, corn and cereals, while inside there are 37 rooms, a restaurant, bar and lounge areas. There are few places like it, not least because it is not just anywhere that you wake up facing the second largest falls on the African continent. The day is only half over and you can already hear the cicadas. An excursion is planned that will take up the rest of the day: the Kalandula trails, in the company of guides Emanuel and Mateus. With wooden staffs in hand, we make our way towards the best viewpoints of the falls. We see, hear and feel. Up on the trails there is a different world, pure and wild. For those of us who are stuck in the city, it’s hard to believe that this land belongs on the same planet. We get dirty with nature, with its mud and water, and as we make our way along the path, the conversation develops. Mateus tells us that he walks the route to work every day, because he has to support his six children. Emanuel, on the other hand, is awaiting the arrival of his first child and at this stage is already preparing for the alambamento, the traditional marriage proposal phase. We’ll never forget the word when the guide tells us that it’s a traditional wedding ritual, in which the couple’s families first get to know each other, then set the wedding date and, finally, exchanges are made, in which the groom has to give goods and products to the bride’s family, from dried fish to drinks and objects. «But the couple doesn’t move in together straight away,» Emanuel tells us, adding, «the bride goes to her aunts’house to learn how to be a woman.» As time goes by, we get to know him better, as he admits that he hopes to go back to school, since he only attended school up to the 9th grade. He teaches us how to identify the predominant trees in the area, and the next day he’ll be back to show us the village where he lives. Marvelling at the natural landscapes, we head back to the hotel. We are amazed by the fireflies, or rather the tetembua, as they are called here. We haven’t seen them in the city for a long time, and you only have to look up at the glittering sky to realise that pollution isn’t rampant in these parts. «The most dangerous being is man,» says Emanuel, by way of digression, before saying goodbye. Dinner is served in front of the falls, with options to suit all palates, and in our room, we fall asleep to the sound of nature’s power.

The Village of Meia, Malanje

The day starts early. We drink a natural gajaja fruit juice and set off. The guide accompanies us to the village of Meia. There, we pass women preparing the «bombom» for the funje casava meal. Emanuel breaks the silence when he exclaims Wannanga!, hello in Kimbundu, a common dialect in the Malanje region. It’s funny how he prepares us for our first contact with the community. «As far as my village is concerned, I can tell you that we don’t have a soba at the moment. The last one died recently and it won’t be long before the new ritual to choose his successor takes place.» Emanuel tells us about the role of a soba, the head of a village, and how you only have to steal a young goat to be considered a candidate for punishment. But the subject doesn’t last long, because we soon arrive in the village. Children run around frantically, while others play with bottles or perform their best dance moves. When the car stops, they come closer out of curiosity. Their eyes are wide, waiting for introductions, but they quickly get used to the situation. Within minutes, they take us by the hand and show us around the village. The adobe houses are quite distinctive and there are cattle all around them. The lack of abundant resources is evident and not all the children know how to read or write. But what is disconcerting is the simplicity of each of them, the holes in their shirts that don’t define them, their dirty feet that don’t diminish them. It’s only when they play outside that they realise what’s going on, and that’s when they’re not helping their mothers with the chores. But that doesn’t make them sad, not even for a second. Flowers, peace, the river and birdsong are their neighbours and in music, dance and love they seek hope. We quickly realise that the village of Meia is a portrait of the Angolan countryside, in which women are the pillars of the family, a source of food and a beacon of hope. With an indomitable spirit, they carry their children on their backs and their goods on their heads. During the time that we spend here, the faces, songs and stories seem to become engraved in our memory, like a reminder that the essential things are sometimes invisible to the eye. When the time comes to leave, the eyes of hope look at us one last time, sparkling and shiny, and there we feel in every word what José Saramago once wrote: «(...) there are moments that seem to remain suspended, hovering over the inexorable flow of time.» This is deepest Angola. The gaze. The soul. What you can’t put into words because you feel it in such a way.

The Black Rocks of Pungo Andongo, Malanje

The journey continues. The drive is another 116 kilometres to the Black Rocks of Pungo Andongo. From a distance, they look like the fingers of giants. Located in the municipality of Kacuso, the extensive, millennia-old rock formations rise above the surrounding savannah. When you get up close, you can tell that this was Portuguese emigrant land, with the salmon-coloured houses, typical of colonial times, already deteriorated by the passage of time. «Before the war a lot of people lived here, but then they left and didn’t come back,» explains guide Zé Augusto, who accompanies us to the monumental rocks. We step onto the path and explore the morphology and relief. There are rocks of all names and shapes, with different stories in each one. There’s even a woman rock, feminine in shape and robust in substance. We continue to the highest point of the Black Rocks and we come across the Kanzamba viewpoint, with a ruined church from colonial times.  It once served as a sanctuary, which meant that people of various religions passed through. From the ruin we can see the other imposing giants (the rocks), which have allowed colonial houses to be planted between them. We relish the breeze from above, warm, light and comforting, as we look out over the Qwanza River.
Before leaving, and as tradition dictates, we «talk» to the Lady of Pungo Andongo, through a pile of stones that hint at a wish. Like us, there are believers and lovers of wishes carved in stone here. The faith we place in this seems to free our hearts of any yearning. On the way back, we pass the supposed footprints of Queen Nzinga Mbandi Ngola, carved in a rock, and leave the site.

Mangais Golf Resort, Luanda

As we head towards Barra do Kwanza, we stop at Mangais Golf Resort, the last stop on our itinerary. What jumps out at first glance is the relaxed luxury that surrounds the resort and golf course, owned by engineer Francisco Faísca. Visitors of various nationalities come here to enjoy the peaceful scenery, taking their minds off the daily hustle and bustle. We spend the night in a bungalow, where we can fall asleep, lulled by Mother Nature. The next morning, we cool off in the swimming pool and practice our shots on the championship style golf course. Monkeys perch in the trees and alligators venture from pond to pond, accompanying us. The flora and fauna in the surroundings give the game an authentic experience, and we’d stay longer if it weren’t for the paragliding and polo enticing us. First, we learnt about the newest addition to Mangais: paragliding. Tiago Barreto is the instructor responsible for the flight, who uses words to calm anyone with a fear of heights. The take-off is filled with anticipation and once we are floating in the air we realise that we have escaped life below entirely. All the places we thought we knew are now seen from above, different and unusual, while we spot a huge variety of animals, flying over them as if on an aerial safari. The adventure is further enhanced when Tiago performs some fun manoeuvres, such as the level 1 spiral, the front pendulum and the wingover. Under the shelter of the sky, we fly with the birds, over the sea and the animal life. The moments of contemplation are accompanied by some explanations from the pilot, who ends up talking about clouds and what they can represent at the moment of flight. «We can see a cloud much feared by pilots, the rain cloud, over there in the background,» he tells us. But in the meantime, the weather clears and we descend to earth. Flying really is a dream, and Tiago has made it come true.
Finally, we head to the Mangais Polo Club. This time, the experience requires us to keep our feet firmly on the ground. This is Angola’s first and only polo club, a place where horse lovers meet to socialise or to compete in a seven-and-a-half-minute game. Polo is basically a sport played on horseback with four players per team. The aim is to hit a plastic or wooden ball with a long mallet in order to score a goal against the opposing team. We are shown the horse breeding project and even treated to a display of show jumping, moments that make for a full day in what is one of Barra do Kwanza’s best-known natural treasures. 
Back in Luanda, this is the end of a journey of warm emotions through the warm lands, and even though we no longer inhabit it in real space, Angola continues to inhabit us in memory.

Text: Joana Rebelo
Photography: PMC