January 2007 – Life on Sal
My rented apartment here in Santa Maria is a large studio, with a bathroom and large terrace, but as I’m on the ground floor I can’t really use it much as it’s a bit like being on the telly if you sit outside, with all the world walking past…
I finally have my gas, and a new set of saucepans, so I’m glad to be cooking at home; for the first week I had to eat out every night, which obviously requires drinking as well, so eventually you end up a bit squiffy, fat and skint which is not really the intention, I’m not on holiday after all, I am living and working here. Last night I managed to find a shop selling fish, although they only had giant prawns and something called ‘choco’ which I purchased, when I put it into the frying pan it expanded and was squid! Lovely, and all for €2. They also had meat in the shop - some chops and some very red sausages, and then the pride of the display was a chicken kind of doing a handstand with a bit of parsley in its neck. I also managed to find a potato and 2 carrots, but had no knife for chopping them –I asked the lady in the shop in my best Portuguese if she sold knives, she didn’t but sent her daughter out back and she came back and lent me her very own! Must remember to take it back today, I don’t feel that comfortable with a sharp vegetable knife in my handbag.
It’s been very busy with clients, and they have all been nice people. Thursday is the day the flights go back, so I have a little bit of time to myself…. I have started the day early with a run right down to the southern tip of the island. You have to go early, the temperature rises by 9am, this week it has been averaging about 85.
It was truly wonderful, all alone in a desert, you can imagine what the island was like before the development began. Running on sand and black rocks, hardly a soul about, one girl with her headphones on, and one man playing with his dogs. At the very tip of the island I stopped to walk up to the sea edge (no beach), and someone had made some beautiful ‘crop’ circles, about 7 circular designs, made from small black rocks and very light brown coral. Absolutely lovely, and exactly at the spot I had chosen to stop. I then ran on a bit more and found a tiny beach, and some deserted huts. So quiet, the sea crashing in, and the wind blowing very strong. You could hear all sorts of strange noises if you turned your ear to the right angle. Very spiritual, reminded me of a beautiful song written by my late Partner, Robert Jacob, entitled ‘Stone People’. A very emotional moment, but that’s another luxury of this place, the freedom to have emotional moments, no-one around to see you, and the sun dries your tears very quickly. I love it here, and going out into the ‘desert’ like that puts everything into perspective. I am looking forward to being here and watching the whole island grow…
October 2007 – the true story of importing one’s furniture from the UK
It seemed like a good idea at the time; that is, back in July 2007, in the UK, emptying the entire contents of my home into a container, which would set sail for Cape Verde, and I would be reunited with my clothes, my music, my jewellery; in fact, my life. Didn’t seem worth buying a load of new furniture here when I had plenty at home, which would only be put into storage and loneliness for years to come.
So,family and friends gathered on 12 July, carefully wrapped everything in approximately 100 metres of bubble wrap and cardboard and brown paper, sealed the doors, and off she went on the back of a large lorry, a resplendent orange container, not to be opened until reunited with me in Cape Verde, some 3000 miles yonder. Maybe we should have paid heed when the lorry driver, upon being asked when it would arrive in Cape Verde, muttered ‘ might be 6 weeks, might be 6 years….’
I had confidence, I put it out of my mind, I had faith and decided not to even think about it for 6 weeks, and if it came during the suggested time, then I would be pleasantly surprised. So, I didn’t start to think about it until 8 weeks after it had left the UK. At this point I thought I would get in touch with the carrier, and so I emailed them eagerly, about 5 times, and received no replies whatsoever. Funny, before I paid them the fee of £2200 they responded very quickly to every phone call or email, but after I paid the money I never heard from them again…
So, I tried the shipping agent in Las Palmas, which was supposed to be the first port of call, however it had already been via Hamburg (lucky little holiday for my possessions!) After having a shrieking fax siren wailing in my ear on the first few efforts, I finally got through to a lovely chap who sounded just like Manuel from Faulty Towers, who advised me that the ship with the container had arrived in Las Palmas, but that there were ‘hydraulic problems’ and that the container would have to wait there one week, but would be shipped in 7 days. I called on the 8th day… unfortunately all the containers had managed to get on to the Cape Verde ship… apart from 4, of course, mine was among these 4… they could not give me an alternative date, they didn’t know when the next ship would sail to the Cape Verdes. Nothing more could be done, except wait…..
About 10 days later I tried again, and YES… it had left Las Palmas for Sao Vicente and should be there within 2 days….
I called the port in Palmeira 4 days later, and YES (again) it had arrived in Palmeira, merely a 20 minute drive from my apartment, excitement began to mount, but alas, no it was not to be. ‘The crane is bro-ked’ I was told, and the container had been sent back to Sao Vicente.
I tried to keep calm, breathe in, breathe out, nothing could be done, live with the power of now, accept…
One week later, I tried again… my container was here. It was a Friday. So, no, I could not collect it until Monday. (Friday, Sexta-Feira, no unloading, PUB of course!)
So, on Monday at 8am I arrived at the office of the Despachante, smiling, being polite, keeping calm.
We drove to the port, and waited for an hour while they checked my paperwork.
This, of course, after 3 and half months, was not in order. I had everything I needed, a complete listing of every item in the 138 boxes, in English and in Portuguese, the bill of lading, a letter from the council in the UK confirming that everything in the container was second-hand goods from my house. The most important thing was missing, a STAMP on the letter from the council…
I begged and pleaded and said I would get the letter stamped and forwarded, just let me have the container. I demanded to see the Head of Port who said he could help with the storage costs but not with the customs officials. Then, a momentary breakthrough. If I got the letter from the council translated into Portuguese, they would re-consider.
So, back to the office of the Despachante, where he duly transcribed the letter for me, with the aid of a dictionary, word by word. This took another hour. Then the port was closed for lunch. A coffee and a menthol cigarette and two hours later, back to the port. The Despachante took the letter. I sat outside the customs office, smiling like a demented woman at everyone who passed, in case it helped. It didn’t. The Despachante came back shaking his head and sighing. It was not to be. No stamp, no container. On the way back to the Despachante’s office I decided to turn up the King Curtis CD playing in the car to full volume, to cheer myself up and not weep. The Despachante asked, ‘this is English music, yes?’, no, I replied, American music from 50 years ago. ‘ah, classical music’ he replied. Bless his heart.
And what is the final outcome of this story?
10 days letter, I returned with the duly stamped letter. I couldn’t go in, I waited outside customs like an expectant father.. he came out nodding, smiling, with the paperwork to release my possessions. He then left me.
I spent 25 minutes waiting by the container in 28 degrees, not knowing what I was waiting for, but not daring to speak… finally a man came and broke the seal with a huge cutting device. I looked in, I got in, I sat amongst my Buffalo Boots, my CDs, my futon and chairs… It only took another 3 hours, 2 official stamps, €350, a marvellous large operation involving a giant fork lift and a lorry, a 20 minute slow drive and then a 2 hour unloading session aided by 2 helpful and cheerful Cape Verdians. The apartment was full of 138 boxes, now to unpack!
The last words of the Despachante to me were, ‘next time it will be easier’. The last words from me to the Despachante were, ‘there will never be a next time…’
About the Author: In January 2007 Bev Chadwick swapped gigging in the UK for a lucrative career in real estate in Cape Verde. Despite her hectic schedule, she still manages to perform two or three times a week in Santa Maria and is considered somewhat of a local celebrity, particularly with the South American contingent, who arrive in their dozens for every show.
After months of being pestered, she finally agreed to write a regular column for the AboutSal site to share with us her experiences.
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