My Swaziland me always to remind the comic Mort and Phil. Its name refers to those countries that sent their agents and paid them millions to change were a few pesetas. But Swaziland is the country of the Swazi, an ethnic group that has managed to maintain its independence with South Africa despite its territory being located between the South African Kruger Park and the Kwala Zulu Natal region, whose capital is Durban. It is also the country where AIDS eats away lives relentlessly.
The 24 hours I spent in Swaziland left a multitude of anecdotes. At the entrance border, The types, lovely, they were divided among those who gave us slogans on how to beat Germany (it was before the semifinal) and those who asked us to give them the shirt. Then, we stopped to sleep in a hotel in Manzini, the most populated city. In the restaurant, we were alone, They took more than an hour to make us three meats. Then, to order the wine I had to accompany the waitress to the hotel bar to say exactly what bottle she wanted; after the election, another waitress, the bar, climbed on a stool in difficult balance, after which I must have thought that this operation was going to be repeated by Rita and she brought me down, directly, all stock.
The next morning, we left for Durban. On the road the police stopped us for speeding. We started to negotiate with them, first under the trick of I don't understand anything, to put an end to the one of «can we take pictures?». We pay a quarter of what they asked us at the beginning, we took the «pictures» and we left just when a woman who had been stopped said «for only 20 km?». They were lovely.
Then came the last frontier, the video, that teaches the differences between rich South Africa and poor Swaziland. The wooden counter, the gate and the gloomy Swazi office, contrasts with computers and brand new furniture on the South African side. Swaziland is more than just Mortadelo, I told myself when I left. In Myself, this place, it was a lot of smiles.
Javier Brandoli
