Things I'll Miss About Angola: the Architecture

In talking with friends and family back home, I often use the analogy of Cuba to try and describe what Angola looks like. Like Cuba after the '59 revolution, Angola after independence in 1975 just sort of grinded to a halt in terms of construction. Many of the buidlings in Lobito were built in the 60s and 70s. As the war set in, obviously building maintenance and new construction became less and less of a priority.

There's a decaying elegance that the colonial-era buildings have. I really wish I could have seen Lobito in 1974- it must have been beautiful. Many of these buildings are occupied by squatters, which is starting to be a problem now that reconstruction is in full swing and owners are finally investing in their properties. For example, the house I talked about here now looks like this:

Not exactly an improvement, if you ask me. Luckily, there are people who are restoring original structures.

Awesome Structures in Angola: Part 4

After hitting the market we stopped for ice cream. There is a restaurant in Catuembela that makes good ice cream. Unfortunately, the day we went they only had two flavors, coconut and vanilla (which had artificial dried fruit in it). The two people who hadn’t tried it before were a little disappointed, but I’ve been here long enough that even Let Down Ice Cream is better than No Ice Cream. (Besides, as a Texan I know that there is not much better in life than Blue Bell, so I know not to have high expectations for anything made outside of Brenham.)

On the way back we passed this house. It’s located next to a roundabout, so I’m not entirely sure it was ever a house: perhaps a government building or something. Either way, it’s someone’s house now, as evidenced by the laundry hanging on the left-hand-side porch. I really like the metalwork on the large windows, but especially like the metalwork on the roof.

Awesome Structures in Angola Series: Part 3

Following the spirit of Part 2 in the series is this house. My friends Mark and Domingas live across the street from it. It is “abandoned” in the sense that the owners of the house- whoever they may be- don’t live there or do any sort of maintenance on the house. The house, however, is occupied by squatters, although they’ve been there long enough for the term to be misleading. The house is located on the bay side of Restinga, a few blocks past my old apartment. Like so many houses in this city, you can tell it was once a beautiful, elegant home, probably left during independence. I like this house because it reminds me of the banana company houses in Tela, on north coast of Honduras. (I tried finding images on Google Image, but surprisingly couldn't find any pictures of the Chiquita buildings.)

Awesome Structures in Angola Series: Part 2

I took this picture from the balcony of my new apartment. These types of houses- once grand, Portuguese structures, now decaying, ruined shells- are quite common along Restinga, the peninsula where I live. Most of these houses were abandoned during the independence days and the ensuing war. It's not clear to me who owns these houses. Local friends say that those who abandoned the houses still maintain property rights; others say that they belong to the government, who chooses not to do anythign with them right now. There are so many houses like this. I really would have liked to have seen them in their glory days, with a nice coat of paint and tended gardens. Perhaps they were never like that, but older friends tell me they were quite nice.

I especially like the tear-shaped garage on this one. Don't know if a car ever really fit there, though. You can also see that, in spite of a large trash container right in front of my apartment building, people (don't know who) choose to dump trash on the corner.

(Yes, Restinga has trash-pick up! A pleasant surprise. The garbage trucks used to come at 11 pm, which was a bit disruptive, but now they come around 7 am, which is tolerable. The municipal water company even distributed odd-shaped bright yellow trash bags for free. Of course, some enterprising people stole them from the doors of houses that hadn't picked them up yet and then sold them to local stores.)

Awesome Structures in Angola Series: Part 1

I saw this building in one of the markets in Cubal. A lot of stores have hand-painted signs on them, but this one stuck out. It says:

RABIES KILLS! BARBERSHOP WE MAKE CALLS

The name of the barbershop is "Barberia de Raiva", which literally translated means "The Rabies Barbershop" but it is also a play on words because in Portuguese (and Spanish, for that matter) when you are really angry, you can say you have rabies. "Que raiva!" Is the owner doing a community service, warning the people of Cubal about the dangers of rabies? After all, the barbershop already performs a community service by renting out a phone for those who don’t have their own. Then again, there's a lot of violence associated with this barbershop. Is the Rabies Kills Barbershop really the place you want to go for a shave or a trim?

In any case, we English speakers are also "WELLCOME" to get our barber services at the Rabies Kills shop.