Paulo da Maxinde!

Paulo Pascoal... better known as "Paulo da Maxinde".

I've known this man, since very young, i used to spend my holidays with him, in Malange a province of the center-north of Angola. The place where he lived was called Maxinde!

He was one of the few black men with wealth, before the independence of Angola in 1975.

His house was enormeous... i would say he almost owned all the houses of Maxinde, but he would lend it to the family friends. In front of the house there was a market, A Praca da Maxinde, full of women selling from rice and beans, to pencil and paper, from tooth paste to fabric, to full outfits. I've always asked myself how could they stand in the sun so hot everyday since 5am to 6pm when the sun would suddenly drop and the moon would lighten us... and a cooler brease would caress my skin letting me know, its night time. On the left side of the street there was a SuperMarket, called Maxinde, where you could find everything you could get in the market but in bigger sizes and also some harware and toys, specially cheap imitations of Barbies, made in Spain. I know cuz i stole a lot of them! On the right side there was the road to go to the City, on the way you would find, my first School, where Paulo's wife Catarina was a teacher, and then, close by the Church! Being at Paulo's house, in the yard, you could see the long River: Kuanza... the currency of Angola is named after that River.

Several times i wanted to go there so i could see it closer, but the ancient people would tell me that i couldnt cuz there was a big snake called Maria Joaquina, that had long hair and three heads. I never got the chance to see her, but i still believe that there was something really wrong about that green shiny river. Not very far from the river was the Mosteiro de Santa Clara, from the yard i could see the tower of the basilic, they were building for years! But thats another story!

In the house... we had it all, chicken, pigs, sheeps, dogs, monkeys, cats in the store for the rats... and so on... every morning i would wait for the barber to trim my hair and make Paulo's beard. I would wait for the cooker, to go get with me fresh eggs and frie them for me... Paulo had so many employees it was ridiculous, but it was a way of helping people. Maxinde had no concrete, it had orange sand, everything was dusty full-time, and the men and women were always sweating and dirty! Every sunday after going to Church, we visited the nuns, that would fill me with kisses and gifts and then go back home. By the time we got home, the house would be invaded by tracks, big tracks with new merchandize, and at 3pm all the residents would fill up the yard waitting for their names to be called so they could get new things to sell in the market or even for their homes, sometimes they would be spoiled with bycicles and toys for the kids. It was adorable to see the white smiles in their sweaty dark skin faces sometimes after hours of waitting.

I always had the ideia that we were loved, and worshiped by them. At the age of 8, many times i would ride my bike with no t-shirt and be shouted by the people, rising their hands saying: Paulinho! and many times i heard: you will be the president of this Country! LOL... Maxinde was like Paulo's Empire!

In 1992, the civil war, took over the country, all the cities were invaded by UNITA, commanded by Jonas Malheiro "Savimbi", i was 9 years old, i will never forget the sound of the bullets, of the big canions, of the people screaming, the fear that would heat my whole body, praying to god to avoid me losing a loved person. In the second day after the war started we travelled to Luanda, the capital of Angola were everything was more calm. In the third day, our Home, Paulo's house, was invaded by the people he helped all his life, not with the ideia of hidding or protecting themselves but with the ideia of destroying it all, they called him a Thief, but he wasnt even a Government person. He was a normal citizen, someone that worked hard to construct everything he owned beside his lovely wife Catarina. In 3 days a whole life of work and helping the others, was over, to never go back to the same. They lost it all, it all! Paulo and Catarina Pascoal were my grand-parents, parents of my father: Ito (1961-1989). From there on our lives never went back to the same... they sent me to study to be a priest in a seminary in Spain, so i couldnt see our family fall apart... it was a lot of disappointment from people they trusted... Catarina passed away in 1999 and Paulo in 2005. I miss them so much, and this is the lesson of a Lifetime! That story has no other soundtrack but the noise of the people chatting in the window every morning before my grand-ma showed in the room with a warm glass of milk saying: "Bom Dia meu Filho"!

P.S.: i slept in the same room as my grand-parents till the age of 9. i know i was very spoiled!

(in the picture... my brother, me, paulo da maxinde and my sister)