Christmas / Navidades

Churrasca
Sat 26 Dec 2015 11:30

26-12-2015 / En Español, más abajo

 

 

Cabo Verde is a surprising place to visit. Only 9 of these dramatically shaped 15 islands are inhabited. The country has been independent for about 40 years now.  The locals are friendly, easy going and love anything musical. They are taught Portuguese at school, but speak Creole among themselves, a language they are proud of for it's African origins and that are happy of because the Portuguese don't understand it. You do have to adapt to them, since there is nothing here related to formality or to the consequences fo changing their minds, their laws or their compromises. The landscapes are volcanic rises and beautiful beaches. We haven't had a chance to see any agricultural areas, but for sure, albeit their lack of water, must be rich, judging by the fresh produce available everywhere.  On our arrival, we had to go through 3 different offices, aside from the Harbormaster's office. At each office we payed a small amount for their services and got a most unoficial receipt. The most amusing thing about this is that the paper we filled in at each and everyone of these offices was exactly the same one, word to word, letter to letter. Immigration stamped our passports and Port Police got the ship's papers for keeps until our departure.  They of course got a copy of several I keep of the ship's papers. At least 4 times we were asured that we could get everything back and our passports stamped on Christmas day if we wanted to depart. Just in case, we went the day before Christmas to get this done, and as we left the Port Police office with our ship papers returned, the immigration had just closed...unly 20 minutes before the closing time they decided for that day which is 3 and a half hours before the regular closing time. A friendly policeman there realized our predicament and started calling his immigration colleagues by cell, until he finally got to one that said, "tell them to be there tomorrow morning at 9 am and I'll come over to stamp the passports.

So there  I was the next day, half an hour before 9 am, waiting and watching the little port activity that morning. As time passed, and passed, I started to feel more and more like a character in Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant story and after a couple of hours I couldn't get Neil Young's "Immigration man" tune out of my head. One friendly (aqgain) policeman that was heading home after his night watch there saw me hanging around and got curious. On telling him what happened, he got on his cell and started dialing his immigration colleagues numbers. They were all disconnected. His next sugestion was to go over to the General Command Post, pointing at a far away location behind a tall mountain, where he said someone there could get in touch with the immigration office chief and have him come down to stamp our passports...like, yes that would be the most likely thing to happen on Christmas morning.  So back to the boat I went on that nice long walk by the beach that takes you to the merchant harbor, with documents in my folder, watching what other people did on a morning like that by the beach and a lot of children playing with their new toys on the public plazas. That's when I saw Mario and Itzal at the sailor's bar using their wi-fi and I started my story about waiting for a couple of hours and watching the going ons at the harbor with papers under my arm and listening to a story of how I could get a head government official out of bed to come down and sign our papers.  The day before, we did remark that it would be nice to stay a day or more here.  In the end, we are getting our 2 extra days and very surprisingly, a calm patch of air has settled over the islands which wouldn't allow us to leave either with absolutely no wind to take us anywhere. Here we remain, hoping to get our passports stamped on Monday, hoping for wind on Monday that can allow us to start the final par ot four voyage towards the

Caribbean. Atlantic Ocean, here we come! :)

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Cabo Verde es un lugar sorprendente, Solo 9 de estas 15 islas de orografía dramática están habitadas. El pais ha sido independiente por unos 40 años ahora.  Los locales son amigables, tranquilos y aman todo lo musical. Les enseñan el portugués en la escuela, pero hablan Creole entre ellos. Un idioma del que se sienten orgullosos por su procedencia Africana, y del que están contentos que los Portugueses no entiendan. Si, tienes que adaptarte a ellos, nada aqui tiene nada que ver con la formalidad, ni les importa cambiar de opinión, costumbre o leyes sin avisar. El paqisaje es de grandes elevaciones volcáncias y playas preciosas. No hemos visto ninguna zona agrícola, pero a pesar de su falta de agua, seguro que las hay y ricas a juzgar por lo que ves en los mercados y en la calle.  A nuestra llegada, tuvimos que pasar por tres despachos oficiales aparte de el de comandancia del puerto.  En cada despacho pagamos una pequeña cantidad por sus servicios y los divertido es que los documentos que rellenamos en cada uno de los despachos eran idénticos,la letra.  En immigración nos dieron el sello de entrada en los pasaportes y la policia portuaria se quedó los papeles del barco, de los que dispongo de varias copias. Al menos en 4 ocasiones nos aseguraron que el dia de Navidad podríamos recuperar la documentación del barco y sellar la salida en los pasaportes. Por si acaso, fuimos el día antes y al salir con los documentos del barco bajo el brazo y pasar a immigración, éstos habían decidido cerrar 20 minutos antes  en tal dia que supoonía 3 horas y veinte minutos antes de su horario normal. Un policia de Aduanas, al ver nuestra situación se puso a llamar a sus colegas de Immigración por teléfono, hasta ue dió con uno que le dijo "diloes que estén mañana puntuales a las 9 de la mañana que bajaré a sellarles los pasaportes. Así que al dia siguiente, día de Navidad, ahí estaba yo con los documentos a las 8:30, y pasaron las horas sin que nadie aparciese por ahi. Todo estaba cerrado y menos algo de movimiento de entradas y salidas del puerto comercial, eso era un desierto. Un Policia portuario que salía de su guardia me vió ahi sentado y vino a preguntar,..,.yo le conté toda la historia de principio a final. Durante unos 20 minutos estuvo intentando contactar con alguien de immigración por su teléfono..sin éxito. Como última sugerencia y apuntando hacia un lugar lejano detrás de un risco altísimo, me dice que si voy a Comandancia General, ahi el de guardia podria llamar al jefe de Immigración para que venga a abrir la oficina y sellar los pasaportes.  Como que si, que eso iba a ocurrir..tuve que aguantar la risa de la propuesta, aunque parecia sincera. Asi que me fui hacia el barco, con los documentos bajo el brazo, sintiéndome un personaje de Aice's Restaurant y con la tonadilla de "immigration Man" en la cabeza. Ahi en el sailor's bar estaban Mario e Itzal, a quienes les conté todo esto. No hay malo que por bien no venga y la verdad, es que nos apetecía un dia o dos más en esta isla y además, se ha instalado un pantano barométrico encima que tampoco nos hubiese permitido salir sin nada de viento. Asi que esperemos que e lLunes nos sellen los pasaportes y que el viento se anime de nuevo para empezar el último tramo de este viaje al Caribe. Océano Atlantico, ahí vamos! :)