07/07/2008 - Update 3
I woke up at 5:45 this morning and left the house by 6am. It was still dark. As I drove to the airport, the sun began to rise… one of those Hawaiian-colored coral sunrises with elongated silver clouds breaking up the solid spectrum of color. It’s the first time I have driven myself to Bulawayo airport since I had an accident on the airport road three and a half years ago, when I hit a motor-cyclist who was turning while I was trying to overtake him. My brakes had failed, and he had failed to use his indicators. Miraculously, he lived. I had visited the old man in hospital, perfectly good natured, “it happens,” he said, and I had thought how unbelievably Zimbabwean to be so accepting and philosophical. After ensuring that he had everything he needed, we bribed the police to allow me to leave the country. I was thinking about that this morning, as I noticed the clock at 6:24am, and I observed children walking to school, in their little green uniforms, or blue pinafores with maroon blazers. School in Zimbabwe starts at 7:30am, and I wondered how long these children had already been walking for, and what they had eaten before they left home. It is impossible to afford transport nowadays in this country. To go by mini-bus 5 minutes into town, and then another 10-15 minutes from town to the high density suburbs, it costs 15 billion Zim dollars. Many do not even earn this in a month, and certainly not in one day (although it’s only about 75 US cents).
I reluctantly parked the car at the airport as my parents had advised. It will sit there until I return on Friday. I entered our little hanger which is currently and temporarily Bulawayo Airport. They’re in the process of building a much larger grander airport for our two flights that come and go each day. A little absurd if you ask me: the country is starving, and we’re building an airport! I always remember to take something warm during this time of year to the airport as the aluminum ceiling doesn’t keep much warmth in. This morning, not unusually, there was a power cut at the airport, and I had to giggle as they manually wrote our seat numbers on our boarding passes, and ushered us through the metal detectors and x-ray machines, not feeling us up and down at all, and barely glancing at our belongings. True Zimbabwean airport security! However, a little heart-warming that no one’s really bothered, as when it comes to these issues in this part of the world, we feel completely unthreatened.
When I arrived from Joburg a few days ago, I did notice one difference. They did not bus us in the 100m from the plane to the hanger as they usually do. We used to find this ridiculous, as there is such a shortage of fuel in the country, and yet they insisted on busing us in that short distance. However, this morning, we digressed from the sensible back to the ridiculous, as they bused us to the Harare plane. Perhaps this is because the 55 minute internal journey in the Rice Rocket (Chinese Airplane) to Harare on Air Zimbabwe is more important than the 2 hour international SAA flight from Johannesburg? I don’t know. Another little giggle.
I arrived an hour later in Harare, and Luana was there to meet me. We returned to her magnificent house filled with antiques and treasures from all over the world. Totally up my alley. I had a rest and did some prep work for my 2 o’clock meeting at DFID about which I was a little anxious. At about 1pm, I joined Luana outside who was hanging out in front of her barbecue area, braaing some chicken for lunch; her 3 gorgeous dogs at her feet, her half a dozen hens clucking around the garden (real free range eggs!) pecking at the bugs in the dry grass, and the winter sun shining in that just-another-day-in-Africa way that it never fails to do.
As much as I have never liked Harare, it doesn’t feel as ghostly as Bulawayo. I suppose Bulawayo has always been the sleepy town in comparison. I expected it to be a lot worse here. And yet Luana seems to relaxed, which quickly dispelled my anxieties and fears regarding the lack of safety. She parked the car in town and went to pick up a bicycle that was being fixed, and I waited in the car, across the street from the national railways, watching the train come in and people hanging out of the cattle cars that they are now using as carriages. I was desperate to pull out my camera, and even though Luana said it would be fine, I opted for the safe route, not wanting to be followed by the secret police, and mistaken for a journalist, which happens in Zimbabwe nowadays, and results in an indefinite time behind bars; far more unpleasant in Zimbabwe than many other places, and certainly one is treated far worse in Harare than the already bad treatment one suffers in Bulawayo jails.
My meeting went well this afternoon. The lady who is helping to direct me for my dissertation framework and research is a real godsend. She has set up meetings for me for tomorrow and the next day with some experts in the field (maternal health and mortality in Zimbabwe). So I remain fairly anxious and intimidated. Tonight will be spent transcribing our afternoon discussion, and putting together a questionnaire for the next couple of days.
It’s only 7pm and it’s been dark for over an hour… a big change from the mid-summer light in London. Luana showed me the jewellery and trinkets she designs for her beading business, soon after which the power went out. Luckily I charged my computer last night before I left home, and I am typing this under the dim light of the power-saving bulbs than run off the generator. That’s all for tonight. Work time.
More soon,
- Gabi
Louanna and one of the Vaimaranas
