Already outside the airport, we found that they had forgotten to pick up us. Common thing, the lack of timeliness or performance of the duties on Angola. There is always a reason for these kind of episods, no one prevents anything, everything is possible, everything is normal, everything is tolerable. I had just reached a new cadence, a new pulse.
At the exit of the airport, and on the way to the fate that awaited me, the streets were crowded of people and cars on top of each other everywhere, intersected people on the streets in all directions, some seemed lost, others were begging, other were sold and passed to a destination hard to realize.The shanties multiplying everywhere, with tin roofs and plastic sealed with loose bricks that made weight for the roof does not come off, windows and doors all with security grills. The filth, garbage, debris all huddled on the edge, in the middle, everywhere, shocking poverty, contrasted with the high motor cars that passed not so infrequently. Candongueiros, the táxis and the only transportation in the city, funneled up the streets. Were the Hiaces in the '70s in Portugal, now blue and white, decorated with motifs rogues pennants football clubs, stickers, names of football players, beliefs and thanks in large letters.