Macunas in Macuna and up Namuli

Our early morning drive started the day off with a great view

Having spent so much of my time here going through the exhaustive process of climbing metaphorical mountains (learning the language, getting known in my community, building a scout troop, ect...), ascending the very real Mt Namuli was a climb I had been looking forward to for a long time. At over 2419 meters (7936 ft) high, it is the second tallest mountain in Moz, and considered the hardest hike within it's borders. After being told about it's preserved natural beauty and stories of it sacred mythical power, conquering the "Half-dome of Mozambique" seemed to be a suitable last adventure for my service, and this macuna (white person in Elomwe) was not disappointed.

People thought we looked silly for not using our heads to
carry anything. I think it would have looked even sillier if
we'd  put our backpacks on our noggins.

Starting in Gurue at 4am, our 3 bro crew of Eric, Zackaria, and I easily caught a boleia from town to the tea plantation trailed head (Namuli: 30km). Starting up the quickly steepening road, we started to gather a following of locals on their way to school and work, making the climb all the more entertaining. Along the way, one of them reminded us that we were supposed to bring an offering of flour, sugar, gin and money to the Reina da Montanha (queen of the mountain) in order to receive permission to climb. Though we had remembered the sugar, gin, and money, we had no flour with us, and began asking people along the way if they had any flour to sell.

Myself and Zackaria trying to negotiate for something that
was at that moment about to be offered by the approaching
girls. Generosity like that is so humbling and confusing.

House after house, the answer was no. As the kilometers slipped away, we began to get worried that we would be accused of cultural insensitivity and denied permission to climb the sacred mountain. Would we just turn around and go home? Or secretly climb the mountain without a guide, risking the wrath of the gods? Luckily, our prayers were answered and we stumbled upon a situation that is as indicative of Mozambican culture as anything: we couldn't buy the flour, we could only be offered it. After being told by the what felt like 100th local that he had no flour to sell, we were instead brought a bag a freshly hand pillared (pounded with a stick) corn flour by a young girl and told that her family was religious and they wanted us to make an offering to the mountain on their behalf. Grateful and moved, we continued our climb with new found vigor and spirit.

Though we occasionally walked through open fields, most
of the valley was undeveloped and naturally lush

 As we simultaneously rounded a bend and came up the crest of our last switchback, a beautiful valley opened up before us and our destination came into sight: Mt Namuli. Though it looked like a long and exhausting trip, we were excited to finally be seeing our objective. For the next 4 hours, we took a journey back through time as we hiked through farming communities that haven't changed in appearance or function since the civil war and eucalyptus forests planted by the Portuguese colonists. As we followed the trail around the mountain, and our feet began to ache, we began to look in earnest for anything that would indicate that we had arrived at the village of Macuna and the reigning Reina da Montanha.

Us relaxing outside the Reina da Montanha's house with
Namuli in the background

A little after 13:30, we stumbled into her large family compound, prominently placed on the closest hill to the base, and collapsed onto an esteira (grass mat) in front of her hut. After letting us rest for a bit, and after setting up our camp, the Reina and her husband/interpreter took us behind a little nearby tree and began the slightly disappointing ceremony. Though the ritualistic offering of flour and gin to the spirits of the mountain while muttering Elomwe incantations and prayers seemed authentic, her lack of ceremonial dress (Dever broncos sweatshirt and Nampula beanie hat) and focus on our monetary contribution (1000 mts=$35) made it much less inspiring. Once the ceremony was done, we were presented to our guides and asked to present their payment. But instead of blowing our cover as "poor" volunteers, I decided to offer something in trade that would be much more useful: binoculars. After a hilarious period where the various guides, family members, and children played with this amazing little tool, we were told that they had accepted it as payment and we would be waking up before 4am the next morning to begin our climb.

The early morning trek up the mountain had some
breathtaking views and one of the best sunrises I've ever seen

Having grown accustomed to the Mozambican concept of time (9am means anything before 10:00), I was surprised to be hearing a "com licensa" (excuse me) at 3:30am waking us up. After preparing our day pack and eating a quick breakfast, we began our steep and fast ascent.  Not wanting to take a seemingly endless tumble down the mountain as a result of poorly placed feet on bare rock and tufts of grass, I spent little time enjoying the surrounding views as we climbed. But when I did, they were a sight to see. With the morning light slowly bathing over the surrounding peaks, valleys, rivers, waterfalls, forests, farms, and homes Mozambique looked more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

Just to get an idea of the inclination, Zacakaria
and the guide in the back there are 10m above
Eric in the front. The sheer cliff we free climbed
is behind us.

As we climbed, the trail got progressively steeper and steeper, moving from an aggressive 45 degree angle to a terrifying 80 degree angle in a matter of minutes. Since our two guides had first climbed the mountain at ages 4 an 5, they were not at all bothered by the quite technical assent. But as us macunas worked our way up the open slope, we became increasingly worried about having to come back down afterwards. Every step seemed to bring the opportunity of another infinite fall, and so we hugged the wall of the mountain and slowly continued to climb. Though there were points were harnesses and ropes would have been required in the state, the only tools we had with us were careful planning and sure footing. That, and the excitement to be nearing the summit of this mythical mountain (Elomwe, Macua, and Makonde creation stories involve humans having come from the dwarf people that are rumored to live in/on the mountain and cultivate massive magical fruits) pushed us on wards.

Our moment of victory, followed by a lovely nap and a
fun but terrifying descent

After little more than 2 hours, we had reached the top and could enjoy the fruits of our labors: 360 degree views as far as the eye could see and nothing but clear blue skies above. We took some pictures, a quick nap, and then began our dangerous decent. A couple hours latter, the three macunas were back in Macuna breaking camp and looking to get a head start on our 30km hike back. We said our goodbyes (ate omelo, kopwaha) and began trekking back to Gurue victorious conquerors of one of the toughest mountain in Moz. Though my feet are still covered in blisters (this was 5 days ago), and will be for days to come, sharing the trail,tent, and mountain with some of my favorite PCVs will always be a cherished memory of my last month here.

Ohoolo! Osoolo! (Onwards! Upwards!)

Photos were taken by and are the property of  Eric Wilburn. Thanks bro!