When my feet stepped on the tarmac of Angola Capital Airport on February 4th, and stepped on the asphalt floor which was somewhat sticky by the sun, there was a special smell in the hot and humid air. Later, when I traveled to and from Angola from China, I experienced this smell many times, only to know that it is a unique smell in Angola. Just like when we went to our classmates' homes when we were young, every classmate's home had its own taste. Every country seems to have its own flavor.
The shuttle bus takes everyone to the customs entrance, which is a row of office buildings with only one floor, which is far from Beijing Capital Airport. I silently made a preliminary judgment on this country. The development level of Angola is similar to that of China in 1990s. After all, the floor of the customs hall is paved with floor tiles.
Most of the people queuing to enter the customs are from China, and everyone's face is full of expectations and worries about the future.
When it was my turn, I approached the inspection window and handed in my passport. The customs officer, a young man, asked me in nonstandard Chinese: China?
I said: China.
He said: Hello.
I said: Hello.
At that time, I couldn't speak a word of Portuguese.
The staff stamped the entry stamp on the blank page of my passport and returned it to me. I walked through the passage next to him and entered Angola.
The entry process went smoothly. I picked up my luggage. A thin China boy came up and said, am I the brave of the second inning? Come out with me.
He walked ahead with a Portuguese grammar book in his hand. I dragged two suitcases out of the airport lobby. Here comes a silver pickup truck with license plate number LD-33-22.
The driver is from Angola. He greeted me warmly, probably to welcome you.
The local boy is1.8m tall, with big eyes and long eyelashes. He can show his white teeth when he smiles, and his figure is thin. When he helped me carry my suitcase to the car, I found that there was something wrong with his leg and he was limping. He told me his name was Arnold. This is the first Angolan I know.
I sat in the car, looking at the gray scenery on the street, and there were no tall buildings. It feels like the 1980s in big cities in China, but it is dirtier than our city and lacks municipal management.
Yong said: We can only use Angolans as drivers now. If we drive from China, we will encounter difficulties from the police on the way. Sometimes we have to give a hint before we can publish it. If we tip, there will be no receipt. If you go back for reimbursement, you need to find several references before the leader can sign it and then you can reimburse.
I said: mm-hmm.
Dayong said, which project are you going to?
I said: I don't know? How many projects do we have?
Yong said: Our company divides Angola into three regions, each region has a management department, and each management department is responsible for five or six project departments. In fact, a project department is a construction site. We have 17 construction sites in Angola, namely 17 project departments. Of course, Luanda, the capital, is the general manager's department, in charge of the three major management departments.
I asked: Are we building a house for Angolans?
Dayong told me that our construction sites are all schools, hospitals and markets, which are all done by the Angolan government and have nothing to do with ordinary people. Besides, ordinary people have no money.
I asked again: Yes, the Angolan government must have money, and Angola has oil. After selling the oil, it paid for the project.
Dayong looked at me and said, Chaoer, in fact, the Angolan government has no money, and he doesn't have to sell oil. China sent a construction company like us to build a hospital and build a railway for them, and the Angolan government can directly repay China oil. The so-called total project contract price is actually how much oil Angola will give us to measure the value of this school or hospital. Is it simple?
I said, well, the process of selling oil and buying oil was omitted.
Yong said: Yes, we don't take the salary of the Angolan government, but we take the money from the Bank of China.
I said: I will work with you in the future, Brother Yong!
Dayong said: Haha, it's almost time. I have arranged a dormitory for you. You can put down your luggage, pack your things and come to the office. I'll introduce my colleague to you.
The drive from the airport to Luanda Management Department is 40 minutes. I arrived at the gate of the company. There are watchtowers at the four corners of the high courtyard wall and barbed wire on the wall. The door is closed, and there is only a small observation port. After the security guard registered the information of the vehicle personnel, he let us into the gate. I took a look. Those security guards are armed.
This is a country that has just finished 30 years of civil war. During the war, civilians protected themselves with guns in their hands. In 2002, the two major political parties in Angola reached a peace agreement, and the government also called on the people to hand over their guns, but most Angolans still kept their guns at home. It is normal for security companies to bring guns to work, but I thought it was novel at the time.
After I finished washing, I went to find Dayong. There are rows of houses in the camp, and I don't know which door to enter. I finally saw him, just like grabbing a lifeline, and I quickly joined him.
He sent me a local business card, took me to the office, and introduced my colleagues in the office, including Dapeng, director of the office, and Yang Yang, a beautician. Dayong took me to the accounting office next door and met cashier Lei Jian, accountant Deng Jie and Angolan chief accountant Yang Zong.
Dayong took me to the office of Angola's chief engineer and introduced me to each other.
Finally, he took me to the villa where the general manager of Angola worked.
In 2007, Secretary Li was still in charge. He lives in a hut in the camp and works there.
He is the boss of Angola Second Bureau and the leader of state-owned enterprises. He likes to meet people or things in small talk, especially in such an environment abroad. The leader is particularly approachable.
I ate instant-boiled mutton that night. Leek flower, bean curd with soy sauce, and Secretary Li also asked me to melt sesame sauce with warm water.
The past is vivid.
But that was 15 years ago.
Sometimes I really feel that I don't remember anything about the ten years from 30 to 40.
That's because I'm in Africa, where I live a completely different life from the domestic environment.
My version of Once upon a Time in Angola will try to straighten out the timeline and let readers feel those years according to my description.
# Past # # Memories # # Africa # # Travel #