Africa no deja de sorprender. Por mucho que se haya visto o viajado por su piel quebrada, siempre aguarda lo insospechado a la vuelta del camino. A veces por la naturaleza avasalladora, otras por la miseria de los hombres, algunas por la grandeza de espíritu de sus gentes y otras muchas por los encuentros absurdos fuera de lugar.
El vapor Ilala hizo su última parada antes de desembarcar en la costa mozambiqueña cerca de Cobué. Venía del extremo norte del lago Nyasa en un viaje de varios días a ritmo sosegado, entre la costa verde y el agua crispada, bajo las bofetadas de lluvia y las nubes opacas. Su viaje continuaba rumbo sur sobre las olas del lago pero mi última escala en el país alargado era Likoma Island. Una pequeña isla que pese su proximidad a Mozambique se asignó a Malawi y que duerme su sueño de malaria entre baobabs y vestidos de colores intensos. Apenas tiempo para un paseo por su tierra rojiza antes de que la barca me reclamara de nuevo para subir a bordo y acercarme a la costa. Tiempo para una visita a la catedral.
La Catedral Anglicana de San Pedro, St. Peter's Cathedral, una de las más grandes de África, me desmorona nada más verla. Con sus sólidos muros de piedra alza una anacrónica torre neogótica bajo las alas de las agúilas pescadoras y los mosquitos. Un edificio colosal en medio de las cañas y el barro al que apenas encuentro explicación, su mera presencia en el calor africano me parece insólita, dislocada. La nave central, el coro, el ábside, las vidrieras, el olor a cera y recuerdos a otra época, a otra historia. Incluso tengo la oportunidad de subir a la torre donde duermen las campanas de plomo. Un crucifijo en la pared, supuestamente tallado en la madera del árbol bajo el que fue enterrado el corazón de Livingstone en Chitambo, demuestra que, no en vano, la misión creada por el escocés se encargó de construir tan sorprendente templo en tan inverosímil lugar.
Likoma Island, a pesar de todo, es algo más que su catedral.
(Lago Malawi, agosto de 2008)
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BELLS ON THE ISLAND (LIKOMA ISLAND, MALAWI)
Africa is always amazing. However much you may have seen or traveled on its broken skin, the unexpected is always waiting just around the corner. Sometimes because of the overwhelming nature, others of the misery of men, some of the greatness of spirit of its people and many other because of misplaced odd encounters.
Ilala steamer made its last stop before landing on the Mozambique coast near Cobue. It came from the northern end of Lake Nyasa on a journey of several days at quiet pace, between the green coast and the tense water, under rain blows and opaque clouds. Its journey continued southbound on the waves of the lake but my last stop in the eloganted country was Likoma Island. A small island that despite its proximity to Mozambique was allocated to Malawi and that sleeps its malaria dream among baobabs and brightly colored dresses. Just time for a walk through its red earth before I was reclaimed again by the boat to get on board and to be approached the coast. Time for a visit to the cathedral.
Anglican St. Peter's Cathedral, one of the biggest in Africa, collapses me as soon as I see it. With its solid stone walls it rises an anachronistic neo-Gothic tower rises beneath the wings of the fish eagles and the mosquitoes. A colossal building amidst the reeds and mud that I hardly can explain, its mere presence in the African heat seems strange, dislocated. The nave, the choir, the apse, the stained glasses, the smell of wax and memories of another time, another story. Even I have the chance to climb the tower where the leaden bells sleep. A crucifix on the wall, allegedly carved into the wood of the tree under which was buried Livingstone's heart at Chitambo, shows that for nothing was the mission established by the Scottish resposible for building so surprising temple in such unlikely place.
Ilala steamer made its last stop before landing on the Mozambique coast near Cobue. It came from the northern end of Lake Nyasa on a journey of several days at quiet pace, between the green coast and the tense water, under rain blows and opaque clouds. Its journey continued southbound on the waves of the lake but my last stop in the eloganted country was Likoma Island. A small island that despite its proximity to Mozambique was allocated to Malawi and that sleeps its malaria dream among baobabs and brightly colored dresses. Just time for a walk through its red earth before I was reclaimed again by the boat to get on board and to be approached the coast. Time for a visit to the cathedral.
Anglican St. Peter's Cathedral, one of the biggest in Africa, collapses me as soon as I see it. With its solid stone walls it rises an anachronistic neo-Gothic tower rises beneath the wings of the fish eagles and the mosquitoes. A colossal building amidst the reeds and mud that I hardly can explain, its mere presence in the African heat seems strange, dislocated. The nave, the choir, the apse, the stained glasses, the smell of wax and memories of another time, another story. Even I have the chance to climb the tower where the leaden bells sleep. A crucifix on the wall, allegedly carved into the wood of the tree under which was buried Livingstone's heart at Chitambo, shows that for nothing was the mission established by the Scottish resposible for building so surprising temple in such unlikely place.
(Lake Malawi, August 2008)
(c) Copyright del texto y de las fotos: Joaquín Moncó
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