My wrists were decorated with bracelets. My fingers with rings. All gifts from new friends made during our stay in Cape Verde. I normally take all my rings and bracelets off when sailing, but I left these treasures on as we hauled back the anchor and sailed away from Cidade Velha. The jewelry was a reminder of the immense kindness and warm welcome we received during our stay in Cape Verde, and I wasn’t ready to take it off. During the six years I have worked with Amistad I do not think we have ever received such a warm welcome as we did in these islands. The first day we arrived in Praia, much earlier than expected since we couldn’t make it up to Dakar, we anchored. I looked at the dusty, dramatic hillside and wondered where the Verde (Green) in the islands’ name came from. Ramiro Mendes greeted our ship and took us out at night. A few days later Ramiro and a few guests came onboard for dinner and brought us our first taste of Fogo wine – a taste I shall long for when we are away. We docked briefly for fuel, and many of the dockworkers and a few others greeted us and asked about the vessel. We then “disappeared” for about a week to the other islands, trying to keep a low profile as we worked on the ship. Ben picked up a small puppy from the beach of Tarrafal and she quickly became a new addition to the crew. Her name is Fogo, named after the island where Ben rowed the Zodiac through the waves back to Amistad because the engine cut out. As we headed back to Praia for our official arrival we could see masses of people gathered on the dock, including children in their blue school uniforms. Canons began to salute us, and with each loud blast Fogo the puppy cried out in fear. We were officially greeted with kind speeches and the singing of school children. Jose, whom we would come to know, whispered translations into our ears. We welcomed the Prime Minister onboard, along with a slew of some of the upper echelons of the government of Cape Verde. We also had Tim and Daphne Reid, two U.S. television stars, with us. They would accompany us during our stay as their film team documented our trip. That night we attended a dockside reception with amazing food catered by Yolanda. Delicious treats of Cape Verdean and European delights accompanied by Tamarind juice, pineapple juice, and “punch” a Cape Verdean treasure that comes in various flavors mixed with alcohol. It was Sia’s birthday and Ramiro, the fabulous musician hosting us, sang her a song. At 8:00 that night we were exhausted, and felt like it was midnight. We slept and stood dock watch in shifts. The first ring I received came from my dear friend Charles during our whirlwind tour of Santiago. Our hosts picked us up in an air-conditioned van at 8:00 the morning after we first arrived in Praia. We piled in, drawn to the luxury of air conditioning made all the greater when compared to the stifling focsle. I sat near Charles and Jose. Charles the historian filled our minds with his vast knowledge of Cape Verde. Jose was born in Cape Verde and moved to the US when he was around 12, currently lives in New Haven, CT and even knows someone I know back home. Halfway across the world and I find someone connected to people I know in my country. We spoke about the immigration of many Cape Verdeans to others places, and how families are often separated because only part of a family can get a visa. Jose waited 10 years for his U.S. visa. We drove through numerous municipalities and met several presidents of the municipalities, similar to mayors in the United States. All greeted us with pride for their community. One gave us a CD of Batuk music. All told us how honored they were that our Amistad delegation came to their city, and that they hoped we would spread the message about their wonderful community. We visited the botanical gardens and saw some of the indigenous plants of the islands. We paused by a place that had plants and trees from different parts of the world, symbolizing the connection we share. We stopped for a snack at a café and I had a delicious ham and cheese toasted sandwich washed down with thick, sweet, pink guava juice. The café was in the town where Jose grew up, though each year when he returns there are many changes. We drove to the “concentration camp,” a place modeled after the fascism that swept Europe. The prison held political prisoners, leftist intellectuals who worked for freedom against the mainstream governments. Carlos from the Ministry of Culture spoke about the history of the camp. His words sounded like poetry as he spoke about his country. The camp had a solitary confinement cell where prisoners were fed bread and water. The cell was right next to the kitchen, where the smells of great meals prepared for the officers added further torture to the hungry minds of the prisoners. The cell was lined with a type of gravel that would break the skin of the prisoners as they sat in the heat. It was said that people’s skin would be mostly fallen off when they left the solitary cell. We stopped by the prison clinic. There was a sign that quoted the doctor as saying “I am not here to heal people, but to sign death certificates.” The location of the prison was chosen to offer the prisoners the harshest conditions possible as they sought to break their spirits. The prison remained open until one day before Cape Verde got its Independence in 1975.
We stopped by the childhood home of Amilcar Cabral, the great Cape Verdean leader who led the people of Cape Verde and Guinea-Bissau in their struggle for freedom. Charles asked us to connect Amilcar Cabral with Marcus Garvey, Dubois, and others who have spoken out for freedom and justice and worked towards it. Later we stopped in Tarrafal for an exquisite lunch of calamari, shrimp, cachupa (a local corn and bean mixed dish), grouper fish that tasted almost like lobster and a goat dish. Both main dishes were served in their gravy with bananas, potatoes and yucca, one of my favorite tubers. We sipped on wine from the island of Fogo, and were introduced to Romeo and Juliet, a delicious desert of Fogo white cheese and strips of green papaya marinated in sweet syrup. They truly are in love. A group of girls sang and danced batuk. I believe the drumming, used as a way to communicate, had been banned in the past. The women would drum on their bodies or something else they could fashion. The dance was considered too sexual as hips moved to the music, so they also tried to stop that as well. However, it carried on and continues to this day. One of the girls balanced a glass bottle on her head while she danced. Maria from the embassy was kind enough to explain the dishes and dancing as we went along. I finished with coffee, another treasure of Cape Verde, and was then offered some Grogue, the local “rum”. We continued to drive through winding roads. Our bus could not make it up a hill so we got out and walked a bit. We visited the Rebellados, a traditional community that remains separated from mainstream Cape Verde. They are grounded in Christian traditions, and also maintain some African traditions. They believe the most important part of their life is their spiritual life. They do not fly the new Cape Verdean flag but rather the old one flown by Amilcar Cabral. They practice traditional medicine and sell their art to tourists. They let us walk through one of their homes; it was simple and spotlessly clean. I listened to their leader, a young man in his twenties, as he briefly spoke about his community. His eyes were an amazing color that seemed to capture the light of the world and the light of his God. Unfortunately we only had a few moments to spend there and were soon rushed off. I glanced at a few pictures. The leader came up to me, took the price tag off of a picture, and gave it to me. It was a picture of some people tending farm animals, their houses in the background. A few of them have crosses on their shirts. He said it was for me to remember that we are all one, all connected. Obrigada, thank you, I tried to tell him that his eyes seemed to reflect his connection to the divine as we were ushered onto the bus. We continued on. Our last stop was the municipality of Santa Cruz, were we were again greeted by the municipality’s president, shared kind words, and given refreshments. We arrived back to the ship around 8:00 at night. The day was incredible. I felt in my heart the kindness of the people of Cape Verde, the morabeza (hospitality the Cape Verdean people are known for). Our hosts from the Ministry of Culture, the Embassy and all the municipalities took time out of their schedule to offer an entire day to the crew. We were shown what they love about Cape Verde, and it gave us a great introduction to the place we would spend the next few days.

The next day we awoke and set up to greet the children and general public of Cape Verde. Nadia and Joy (of all the names to have) came to help us translate. We met so many kind people. It felt so special to speak about Amistad, about the legacy of the Africans’ struggle for freedom, and to connect it to Amilcar Cabral and Cape Verde’s own struggle for independence, which is still so new. The school children were fantastic, many showing up in uniform, young people of various ages. They were filled with questions and interest. At one point I was without a translator. A group had finished their tour but were still bubbling with questions. I worked with the teacher and as he would translate the question into Spanish, I would try to answer with my rusty Spanish, and then he would relate it to the students in Portuguese. Their bus arrived, and I was swept with them by a slew of hands around my waist as we continued to talk and walk to the bus. Kisses on the check and they were off. At other times we hosted a group from an orphanage, and later from another place that offered refuge to children. The sprit and kindness of everyone we spoke to continues to touch me.

Our second night in Praia we were invited to an event at the Placio de Cultura, the Cultural Palace. We were invited in and walked past actors posed in positions of servitude, dressed in colonial clothing. The first group posed as if they were lying on a slave ship, in horrible conditions, hope taken from their face and replaced by pain. We then walked through the mansion, and people were waiting at the doors, eyes cast down. It was an odd feeling to be a white woman walking through a wealthy building that used to be the seat of the dominating class, walking by actors who did such a realistic job of evoking the feelings that there was a group of severely exploited people working in the midst of such a beautiful building, country. One girl held up a basket, eyes cast down with a forlorn expression on her face. I couldn’t stop looking at her.  We sat in a room and heard some beautiful classical Cape Verdean music. We looked at art and a room that commemorated Cape Verdean artists. We walked to the balcony over the courtyard and watched as the actors danced to the music of batuk. It looked as if it was there to remind us that behind the controlled, obedient faces of servitude, exploitation and slavery, there remained rich culture that was passed down, people who had lives, thoughts and hearts that could not be broken even by the oppressive weight of slavery.

At the end of the performance we were treated to more delicious food and drinks by Yolanda (who continued to send the crew home with much welcomed leftovers). The girl who had held the basket, with the amazing iridescent eyes I have seen on a few people in Cape Verde, came up to me. Her name is Isa. I think she was telling me I had beautiful eyes. She showed me some cheese and other delicacies, and wrapped my head in the traditional scarf that she later gave me. A few of us were then pulled into dance with them to the great rhythm of the drums. A scarf was wrapped around my waist as they tried to teach me to dance. Sweat poured down my face as I tossed off my shoes.

I had the day off before we left Praia. I hitched a ride to the hotel with the truck leaving the port with crew and heaps of laundry headed for washing. Piled in the back of the truck we stopped at a market so Eliza could exchange some money. People were walking around, baskets lined the street and vendors sold anything imaginable. As we passed by in the truck I asked a man on the curb where we were. “Sucupira” he replied. Later that day I visited the market and was greeted by many beautiful colors of cloths from West Africa. I approached a few people and inquired about buying a watch (to replace the one I lost while working on the head rig). A stranger offered to take me to where I needed to go. He is now my friend King, from Ghana. He brought me to a person selling watches, who offered me a price I wouldn’t even want to pay in the U.S. King helped me negotiate down. I told him about Amistad, and then he brought me to meet a few of his Sierra Leonean friends. Once of them was named Mohammed, Peace be upon Him. He was so excited to learn that I had Sierra Leonean shipmates and he asked me to have them call him that night. King gave me a bracelet and keychain with the image of Africa, so I could remember this place. Piece of jewelry number two. King then walked me to the Plateau where I could finish my errands. We walked strait up a hill, through a narrow street with dogs and chickens, second hand clothes sent from the US to sell, meat out on the street for sale and people lining the narrow, rocky path with goods to sell. I am not sure I would have ventured down the street if I hadn’t been shown the way by King, but was glad I had been shown the way. It seemed a place where West Africa and Cape Verde intersected. King helped me find a cheap place to make some calls to my family in the US, and then a store to buy gifts (sorry, can’t say what as they are some small surprises for loved ones an ocean away, treasures I value from these beautiful islands).
King and I spoke about family and home as we walked the streets. I was running low on cash and he footed the bill for the taxi back to the hotel, the kindness continuing. We walked through the doors of Santiago’s most exclusive hotel, and he said, “I have never been in here before, but because I am with you I passed right through.” I introduced King to Mickey and then we raced back to the boat for a reception hosted by the US Ambassador and his wife. The evening was filled with more fine food, wine and interesting people.

Later that night Vincent was able to reach Mohammed and we met up with him and King. We went to a restaurant and our evening was lighted up by Mohammed’s brilliant smile that stretches across his entire face. Charles met up with us later and we all went to a club and danced. 

The next day we sailed with the Ambassador and about 40 others to Cidade Velha, the oldest European settlement in the tropics. We anchored and cleaned up the ship. We headed into the welcoming ceremony in time for the Church service where it seemed the Priest spoke about Peace. I passed Clifton who wanted a picture with a beautiful older lady. Her name was Nuna, and she scaled the steep steps faster than all of us. “Thank you, thank you!” she kept saying. Before we left the island she found us again and gave a gift of grogue. We joined a circle where the Mayor spoke and then a group of women and girls sang and danced to the Batuk rhythms. We were treated to a welcome lunch at a fabulous outdoor buffet whose name translates into “origins.” We met Mickey the monkey. I have never held a monkey before. He pulled out my shirt and tried to stick his head down my shirt when he first jumped on me. . Hmmm . . .I think he liked my pretty green necklace my mother had given me  . . . Mickey apparently had fallen out of a tree so his human friend had him since he was little. He cuddled in my chest and it felt like he wanted love. His small hands looked astonishingly human-like.

We headed back to the beach to find the small boat gone (it had been picked up by a crew member who swam from the boat to shore to bring it in). We got rides back to the boat from a man who had a small boat on the beach. Nina, Toby and I went for a swim off of Amistad. We were greeted by visitors who were in Cape Verde working on a theater project; they were from France and West Africa. We then headed to the glorious hospitality of a hotel shower, then off to the Presidential Palace for another reception. I stuck my head out the van to dry my hair, absorbed by the brilliant night sky and stars that seemed to shine just for this island. We were greeted by more interesting people and delicious food and wine. The President of Cape Verde gave a great speech about how we all have to share the struggle for freedom.

A few of us went to a church service our last morning in Cidade Velha. We walked as a group as they carried a statue of Jesus around the town with the Stations of the Cross. I later ran into Julio, the great and talented journalist who sailed with us from Sao Vicente to Praia. I was glad I had a chance to stay so long. Mohammed and King came down to visit. That brings me back to more of the jewelry on my hands. King gave me a woven bracelet with the colors of Ghana’s flag. Mohammed gave me a bracelet with my name on it. I was given many CDs of music I look forward to listening to, and a picture of Amilcar Cabral, hero of Cabo Verde. We walked up to the ruins of an old church and passed a girl carrying fish in a basket on her head.

We sadly said “later” to our new friends. Each place we go we meet new people and our heart grows bigger, and then hurt a little as we part ways. Vincent and I joined the rest of our group for a farewell lunch at the fabulous restaurant. We then waited by the beach for the farewell ceremony. I was able to savor one last cup of Cabo Verdean coffee, which I have grown to adore. Martino, another once of our fabulous hosts, gave me another beautiful bracelet. Nadia gave me a ring off of her finger (I can’t wait until she comes to the US for University so I can repay her kindness). We stood on the post where they once whipped slaves and had our farewell ceremony. Beautiful speeches were made and Ramiro and Julio and a few others sang melodic Cape Verdean tunes (Julio – I didn’t know you were a musician??). A poet was quoted as saying “If you don’t leave, you can’t come back.” My eyes filled with tears as we said goodbye to the beautiful people of Cabo Verde. “Don’t cry, don’t cry” Carlos said. We raced back to the ship hauled back the anchor, set the fores’l and stays’l so the people onshore could see, and sailed off. I was filled with sadness. So many people have left this beautiful place to find a new life, new opportunities. But I can only imagine the longing they must have felt sailing away form such special islands. We only spent a few weeks in Cape Verde, and yet I feel very touched by the people and the landscape. The terrain is harsh and dramatic, spotted by tropical beauty amidst desert-like mountains and volcanoes. The people, as Jose said, are Cape Verde’s most valuable resource. I have traveled quite a bit in my days. I have to say that the warmth of the people of Cape Verde and of the people of West Africa, including Sierra Leone, has been some of the most touching transference of kindness I have ever seen. I would recommend to anyone to take a trip to Cape Verde. Enjoy the beautiful weather and scenery, but make sure you get out of any “all inclusive resort” you might find yourself in and meet the people of Cape Verde. You will be touched, and perhaps feel some of the island’s music in your heart. Obrigada. A mi engosta Cabo Verde.

~Joy
 

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