Medical Care and Isolation

On our last night in Nyanga, Mikaela has a really bad stomach virus which left her throwing up and having diarrhea throughout the night until we left the following afternoon. Literally she was bed ridden up until the moment we loaded her into the car. When at 4 in the morning it was at its worst, it hit me how isolated we were if something drastic happened: A 10 minute drive up a 2.5 mile dirt road that is impassable in the rain, another 30 minutes drive to the nearest “chemist” or pharmacy, and from there another 10 minutes to a clinic, and at least 4 hours to a decent hospital in Harare.

Given that the Makone District of Nyanga (a few miles away) had the highest AIDS percentage in Zimbabwe, the clinic in Nyanga didn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, there was no way the clinic would be open at 4 in the morning.

It was moments like that that made me grateful that in Provo we had the Student Health Center, the Instacare, the Emergency Room, countless offices of specialists and an entire hospital within 5 minutes drive of our apartment- including traffic…

Pungwe Falls and Mt Inyangani

Pungwe Falls lie up the canyon of the Mtarazi Falls, the 5th tallest waterfall in Africa, and the 17th in the world. For the drive to Pungwe falls, people told us that 4 wheel drive was recommended but not required, however after navigating for hours through ditches, upturned trees, gullies, washed out roads, rocks, mud pits, rivers, logs, and straight bush, I would say that 4 wheel drive isn’t enough!

When we signed in the guest book at the small hut near the entrance to the access road, we discovered that we were the first visitors there for over two weeks. As we began the descent into the river basin, it was quickly apparent why. To get to the road that led to the falls we had to ford a river, and then drive along a completely overgrown road (see picture). Once it was clear that the Venture was not going to make it any further, we ditched the car and walked for another km or so along a road so riddled that I would be hard pressed to find a car that could navigate the terrain.

Once we reached the falls, we had a great several hours swimming and hiking through the rocks- and we were completely secluded. We had the place all to ourselves, minus the leaches I had to pull out!

The drive back to Nyanga was incredible as we had a rare glimpse of Mt Inyangani without any cloud cover. The road was terrible of course, but we made it back alive!

The Pine Forests of Zimbabwe

The drive to Pungwe Falls from Troutbeck was one of the most scenic, educational, and inspirational drives I’ve ever been on. Not only did it change my perceptions of Africa, but it opened my eyes to how breathtakingly beautiful this country is. As I mentioned before, the flora is completely different in the eastern highlands than it is anywhere else in the country. The drive to Pungwe Falls was filled with vast expanses of massive pine forests covering the hills, mountains, and gorges with a thick shaggy blanket of green. What’s even more astonishing, they’ve all been planted by hand.
The entire pine forests of Zimbabwe are grown on a rotational basis. The trees stretching for hundreds of acres are all planted in rows upon rows of neat lines, and then harvested after a number of years. The ground lays fallow for some time, and then they are replanted in the same manner with neatly cut firebreaks punctuating the otherwise rolling scenery. When the pines mix in with indigenous plants in the national parks is when the views turn truly stunning. If the entire infrastructure of Zimbabwe is failing, then the Forestry Commission is insulated from the rest of the country.

My perception of Africa changed in two ways: I became aware of the diversity that is here, and I learned what is possible when effective governance is present. When most people think of Africa, they probably picture endless grasslands filled with animals and picturesque sunsets. Others most likely see starving children and AIDS infected Africans.

What they don’t imagine is rich pine forests in high mountain passes. What they don’t imagine is rolling hills filled with ripe orchards. What they don’t imagine is a country that actually functions without corruption. And yet, that is what I hope to imagine. That’s what a lot of Zimbabweans hope to imagine everyday of their lives. If anything, they showed me what Rhodesia used to be like.

The pine forests of Zimbabwe showed me how to imagine for the future of a country.

World's View and Nyangombi Falls

If the roads had been paved, the drive wouldn’t have taken more than 10 minutes or so. But, this being Africa, and this being Zimbabwe, the road wasn’t paved, and the machine that is used to pave roads was left rusting 50 meters down the way. The road- or trail- to World’s View was some of the worst roads I had ever seen. Rain had gutted out entire sections leaving small boulders for us to maneuver around, yet somehow the Venture made it through, and brought us to World’s View.

Worlds View is essentially the vantage point from the edge of a very sheer drop. The view goes eastward and you feel as if you can see the whole world. Mikaela, Kean, Liam and I took the opportunity to climb up to the highest point on the mountain where the view was that much more thrilling. When we came down Grandpa Chris couldn’t help but tell us about an idiot hotshot pilot who wanted to be the first person to hang glide from the top. The day came and the news cameras and reporters were there to document it, but the wind wasn’t going in the right direction. This is where the idiot part comes in: despite the bad wind, he was more concerned with the reporters and he ran and leapt off the edge with his glider. Immediately the wind shoved the glider down he plummeted to his death on the side of the mountain, and it took hours before a helicopter could retrieve the body. “What an idiot. And he was a pilot too.”

After Worlds View, we drove to Nyangombi Falls, a series of waterfalls that have calm deep pools beneath them. The problem was, we had to walk on a trail upstream to find a suitable spot to cross the river. Grandpa Chris led the way as we went “Bundu Bashing” or bushwacking. What was supposed to be a ten minute walk quickly turned into a several hour long ordeal. Quickly the trail disintegrated into tallgrass, bushes and thorns which did not go well for our “swimming costumes” and flipflops. Grandpa was looking for an easy place to cross the fast stream, but we ended up getting cut up legs, and dampened spirits before Mikaela and I decided what we were doing was ridiculous. Leaving Grandpa, Liam and Kean, we backtracked until we found a much easier spot, crossed there, and made our way down to the pools on a totally non existent trail. Having no idea where we were, or exactly where we were going, I will be honest I felt like we were having our moment with nature and wasn’t sure what was going to happen!

By the time we got to the pools, the sun was going down and we had only time for a quick dive before we had to hike out. As we hiked Grandpa Chris showed us the rock slab where, as a 17 year old, he spent a week camping under the stars hunting and fishing for food. I really wonder what the country must have been like then…

In the end, we were all pretty frustrated that a lazy afternoon swim had been shortchanged by improv trailblazing, but we were rewarded with one of the most beautiful sunsets Africa could produce.

Nyanga

A few weeks ago we had the opportunity to go to Nyanga, the famed eastern highlands of Zimbabwe. Bordering Mozambique, the landscape is entirely foreign to the high veldt that surrounds Harare. Driving east, at first the scenery is your typical rolling grasslands with sparse trees. However, the rolling grasslands turn to undulating hills, and then suddenly, the landscape erupts into giant boils of granite formations and jagged peaks. Sheer granite faces stare at you as you drive on twisting roads, but the most startling change occurred as the flora adapted to the increase in altitude.


The first thing you notice is that the msasa trees, due to lack of oxygen, turn into msasa shrubs, and sweeping acacia trees begin to fill the skyline as well as vast stretches of pine. It felt like I was driving along the scenic Oregon coast mixed with the sprawling orchards of Napa valley. It honestly felt like I was no longer in Africa, but the rusted road signs and occasional potholes jarred me back into reality. Far to the eastern horizon thick clouds shrouded Zimbabwe’s highest peak: Mt Inyangani (2,592 Meters, 8,500 Ft). Supposedly, the mountain is home to witch doctors, and there are many stories of people who go hiking, get lost in the mists, and are never seen again. Some are as recent as a few years ago. Because of these incidents, schools no longer take their students on hikes up Inyangani.

Nyanga, because it is so close to Mozambique and so far away from Harare, has traditionally been a hotspot of activity. During the Bush War, Mozambique assisted the terrorist forces and frequent guerrilla raids occurred against the Rhodesian forces. Even after the war had ended and Zimbabwe had its independence, Nyanga was still a very unsafe place to travel. When Bob and Mandy went on their honeymoon to Nyanga in 1982, people thought they were crazy to drive out there, and there were several accounts of whites being murdered by War Vets. More recently in the 2008 elections, many War Vets took over properties and farms, and even more political violence against blacks was documented. The owners of the place we stayed at told us that War Vets were eyeing the property and consequently didn’t want to refurbish it in case they just took it from them.

Which brings me to Tsakatombi. Located on the top of a heavily forested valley, the property included several acres of pine forest, rivers, waterfalls, and cows. Tsakatombi isn’t necessarily the name of a city or a person, but just the property, as most large properties here have names. The building itself, reminiscent of a 1950’s Swiss chalet located in some remote part of the alps, was replete with a wood burning stove, onsite cooks and domestic help, and sweeping views of the valley below. At the end of a 4.5 Km dirt road (road is a euphemism) that is utterly impassable in the wet season, the property is usually covered in mist making you feel like you’ve just left Glasgow.

The nearest outpost of civilization to Tsakatombi is the small town of Troutbeck, named after Troutbeck Lake. Surrounding this small alpine village are vacation homes, and cottages owned by some of Zimbabwe’s wealthiest. At the center of Troutbeck is the Troutbeck Inn, where Bob and Mandy had their honeymoon. Supposedly in the entry there is a fire that hasn’t been extinguished in 150 years, but thanks to the new management, the last time some friends were here the fire was out. Despite Troutbeck being one of THE holiday destinations, in typical Zimbabwean style, there is no functioning store much less anything else!

Like Mother Like Daughter

(Photo of us in Nyanga)

Mikaela: “Do my mom and I look alike?”

Christian: “I think you both have wonderful qualities of beauty.”

Mandy: “Lying bastard.”

ZBC News

In Zimbabwe, there are just two TV channels to watch if you don’t have satellite. A few nights ago one of Mikaela’s friends, Ryan Koriya, was going to have a spotlight on him during the nightly national news. He was born here in Zim, and for the past 7 years has been in England trying to make it as a musician (www.ryankoriya.com) and is back in town to record his album. He said the news studio looked like it hadn’t changed since 1947. While waiting for the special to appear (Photo), I jotted down some of the top news stories that came up, and included (in parenthesis) parts of the real story:

-There is an international ban on Zimbabwe diamonds. Anyone who is caught trading them abroad will be punished. Quoting a Zimbabwean official: The ban is an act of war (by the West), which of course is what we have known for some time”. (Mugabe and his cronies own the mines, and the diamonds are considered “blood diamonds”)

-Harare Man suspected of Domestic Violence is in Court after dumping his pregnant girlfriend in a sewage drain. He is charged with attempted murder. After she was dumped alive, it took three days for her to find a place large enough to exit. He duped her to think he wanted to take her to meet the relatives, and got rid of her on the way.

-Zimbabwe Revenue Authorities say that 22 out of 25 highway Toll Gates are in operation. The US 15 million collected so far is to be allocated for road rehabilitation. (All the money is being used to spruce up Mugabe’s rural hometown)

-Lack of government support has made government provided low income housing a challenge. International sanctions are the cause of the government’s financial problems. In Harare, 3000 homes (sheds more like) have been built in the past decade.

-University of Zimbabwe awarded 637 Education degrees today. Shortage of university lecturers is a challenge.

-The national soccer team is struggling to stay afloat as a team because no other international teams come to play them.

-Head of State and Government and Commander in Chief of the Zimbabwe Defense Forces President Robert Mugabe addresses SADC. Don’t miss his stirring address, airing at 9.

-A Zimbabwean official spoke about the strength of SADC: It protects Zimbabwe from “continual political influences of the exterior, the ugly hand of foreigners are continuously trying to fuel conflict in our country. SADC is one of the strongest forces why apartheid ended.”

The international news was full of jabs at the US when it was possible:
-As the US prepares to leave Iraq, it is leaving only a tradition of anarchy. The US went there to secure its oil in the first place.

-Ambassadors from Pakistan, Indonesia, and Sweden all visited Zimbabwe promising more aid when the “conditions are right”.

Both nights that we watched the news, detailed accounts of floods in China were included. This is because there are large numbers of Chinese workers who work here on joint Chinese-Zimbabwe government projects.
The advertisements were interesting- being the same 3-4 repeated over and over again.

-An ad reminding viewers to be mindful of the spread HIV, wash their hands after being in public places, and to take their anti viral medications (ARV’s).

-Be sure to register your cell phone with the government by August 31st

-ZBC provides 2 TV and 4 radio stations for your listening pleasure (That’s it- no others). By paying the license fees, you help ZBC to provide good service for you. Help us satisfy your listening and viewing pleasures. Below are the license fees you need to pay if you have a TV or Radio:

Home radio license $20
Business Radio $50
Company vehicle radio $80
Personal Vehicle Radio $30
Home TV license- $50
Company TV License $100
Vehicle sound and TV license- $100
(The home licenses are per lot- so Janet and Esther’s TVs are included when the Lanes pay)

-This September, don’t forget the newest soap opera. (It is set in prehistoric Zimbabwe- replete with guys in loincloths)

-Coming Soon Hawkeye (re-runs of American West drama)

In the end, Ryan’s special never aired. He said that right before the broadcast he received a text from the producer:

“Technical difficulties, will air tomorrow”

Darwendale Dam and African Innertubing

A few weeks ago, in preparation for Chirundu, Chris Shepherd invited me to go fishing with him and his son early one morning at the Darwendale Dam. When Zimbabweans refer to a “Dam” they don’t mean the actual concrete retaining structure, but rather the entire reservoir/lake behind it. About an hour’s drive in total, we had a great time watching the sunrise. Graham, Chris’s son, recently made the All Zimbabwe Rugby team for his age level, and we were fishing in celebration.

Lining the dam are several farms on either side. “All those farms were seized by Mugabe, and look at them. All those fields were completely green with different crops, and now none of them have anything.” As we fished on the boat a few meters off shore, we watched as a herd of scrawny cattle grazed nearby, and kicked up a huge dust cloud.

Darwendale has some of the best Bass fishing in Africa, and local fisherman are trying to profit from it. “Fishmongers” set up nets, and then collect the fish in their canoes everyday. While this is illegal, there is no one to enforce it. On the other hand, no one was checking my fishing license (or lack thereof) when we left the docks.

Most of the fishmongers work in teams while staying in their canoes, but there are other intrepid soloists who lay nets on their own. How to they get around? In innertubes with their feet dangling in the water. If you notice the picture, you see that there is a bic pen inserted into the tube- that’s how he inflates the thing!

The only problem is, not 200 meters up from where the kid is fishing, we saw a ten foot crocodile basking in the sun. When asked about the croc, the kid said, “Eh- I see him all the time. I’m not worried.” Another man said, “Its too cold for them to bite.” The really sad thing is that no one would know if anything happened to these fishermen, and one day all that could be left is an empty innertube floating in the reeds.

“If that were my son,” Chris said, “I would be standing over him with a rifle watching everything. You don’t even know when crocs are there…”

Booze Cruise: With Cokes, and Mini-Croc Attack

On our last night in Chirundu, we did a Booze Cruise, but with cokes. The concept is simple: get on a boat and watch the game come to the riverbanks at sunset. Oh yeah- with beer. We had cokes instead. It was incredible as we floated down the river listening to the hippos, and watching different groups of elephants bathe and go back into the bush. It was one of the most relaxing things I’ve done. All the while, we had the fishing rods in the water trying to catch tiger fish with no luck.
There is something interesting about the difference in the North and South Zambezi riverbanks. On the Zambian side, the first couple hundred meters or so is lush, and green lined with palm trees. Afterward it turns to regular brown brush. On the Zimbabwean side, it was relatively grey and dull to begin with. The reason being- the palm trees on the Zambian side supposedly mark an old Arab trading road that existed centuries before. I am told that there are abandoned Arab camps with pottery shards hundreds of years old nearby as well.

Despite the relaxed sunset, earlier in the day, we had a few close calls.


Scenario One:
I am standing on the riverbank of the Zambezi next to an upturned/submerged tree. Behind me is a small dirt ledge about 10 feet high, and there are 4 other people with me. The boat is anchored but drifting facing upstream about 4 meters away. As I am standing there, the water was clear, and we can see the fish swimming amidst the dead branches of the tree. In this calm setting, out of nowhere a Crocodile exploded out of the water. It was only 3 feet long, but still the suddenness of it had me a bit mesmerized. It came within a foot or two, stopped and looked at me, then swam away down stream keeping a good view of us.

What I Learned: You really have no idea what is out there, and crocs really are dangerous. Later when I showed Graham, Chris’s son pictures of Lake Powell in Utah- he was stunned that such scenery was in the states and asked me- “You can really swim anywhere in the lake? Its safe?” He was shocked that there wasn’t anything dangerous there. Had that croc been just 2 feet longer, then he definitely wouldn’t have been scared to turn away.

Scenario Two:
We were drag fishing for Tiger fish when we drifted close to one of the small islands in the river. Feeding in the reeds was a bull elephant. Keith took us in upstream of the elephant, and then cut the engine letting us drift right in front of it. We were within five meters of the thing, it looked straight at us, took a defensive stance and started flapping its ears as a warning. It looked as if it was going to charge into the water, and trumpeted at us. As I got it on video literally the second after it trumpeted, Keith said “YES!” in the background.

What I Learned: No matter what you think your gonna think, elephants are scary when they are that close to you. I felt slightly dazed and weak after we floated by it, but I was still surprised by Keith’s shout of “YES!”. Even though he’s been here countless times, and seen more wild elephants than he could count, he still is invigorated by elephants when he encounters them. He still gets a thrill, or a high from it.

I think I understand why.

The Croc Farm

One of the days we were in Chirundu, we had the chance to go to the oldest Croc farm in Zimbabwe, and the 4th largest. Turns out that the hot semi humid climate of “The Valley” is perfect for Crocodiles. Go figure. In the 50’s there was a ban on Crocodile hunting in Zimbabwe because they were nearly hunted to extinction. Not that they were hunted for a purpose, but rather people would just stand on their boats and shoot the “filthy buggers” from afar, needlessly wounding and maiming thousands.
Jump ahead 60 years, and the croc numbers have flourished to the point of becoming pests along the Zambezi causing many game guides to want two crocs thrown in with every hunting package. “But, they do serve a purpose- they clean up the river of any dead animals, and waste” Chris Shepherd told me. He also told me the best way to swim the Zambezi, “Swim facing upstream, because crocs face upstream waiting for things to float by. That way you’ll see them long before they see you.” As if I would be able to spot a log staring at me in brown murky water…
The background about the road along the way to the croc farm deserves attention. The long dusty road is lined with what seems to be bombed out remains of homes, churches, and other buildings. Truth is, they are bombed out remains of homes, churches, and other buildings. Because the buildings were a few hundred meters from the Zambezi, during the war countless shells from “terrorists” destroyed what once used to be a thriving, predominantly white, town. Under a thousand whites, and several thousand laborers and domestics all lived there. When people fled, the locals destroyed what was left so they couldn’t be used as hideouts.
Enter the Croc farm. Given the increase in the need for croc hide for clothing and hand bags, the croc farm has been going long enough to have a healthy population of 80,000 or so crocs. There are a several large breeding pairs kept in separate pens the size of several Olympic pools, but most are kept in large swimming pool size pens made of cinder block. When they lay eggs, in goes a few guys with brooms to push them away, the eggs are gathered, and then put in an incubator. The incubator part is crucial: the sex of crocodiles is controlled by the temperature, not genetics. “Males are produced at around 31.6 °C (89 °F), and females produced at slightly lower and higher temperatures.”(Wikipedia) Is there a benefit to having more males than females? I’m not sure but interesting huh?

The majority of the crocs are under four feet long. Reason being: if they get any longer, and any older, their skin is too tough to tan. The result of all this is a several acre plot of land with countless holding tanks, and a stench that fills the air for miles around. Lining the croc pens however, you see wires a few feet above each pen. Turns out the killers are vulnerable after all. Marabou storks, one of the largest flying birds, fill the air nearby and stand on the edge of each tank at sunset. The wires help somewhat in stopping the storks fly in and out. The effect of seeing hundreds of massive hideous birds standing lone watch over the croc pens as the sun sets an eerie glow, is haunting to say the least…

Lining the yard of the croc farm manager you can find several hippo skulls. When asked why he had so many he said, “We go out each year and shoot two hippo. It’s the best meat for baby crocs we’ve found.” Despite their controlled environment, millions of years of living in close proximity with hippos still comes through…

Bush Braai

A staple of the Zimbabwean diet and social life is the Braai. The closest American equivalent is the BBQ, but a Braai has a few important differences. When an American says “lets BBQ”, you know for sure that Hamburgers and Hotdogs are most likely part of the menu. If not, then whatever meat you have will most likely have BBQ sauce or similarly flavored seasoning. Additionally, Americans will have the usual circular spaceship looking grill or some impressive piece of modern machinery that could very well take someone to the moon.

The only similarities that American BBQ has to the Zimbabwean Braai is fire and meat, otherwise, we have start over, literally, from the ground up. The best way to Braai (it is a verb- and a noun) is to have a bush braai. This means driving in your land cruiser, 4X4, or other all terrain vehicle, to some isolated spot in the uninhabited bush and set up camp there (the license plate on our land cruiser was ripped off by mud in a river bank we went through). Find logs, kindling, and brush and light it all on the spot. No forest service fire circle, no empty steel drum, no circle of rocks, just light up wherever. When its hot enough, put the grill on top of the embers (just a grated piece of metal) let it heat up, and throw the meat on.

This brings me to the meat. Preferably, you brought the animal kicking, or at least whole. Heck you could go hunting for the meat and have a Braai right there. Whole fat steaks and chickens are a must, as are Boerewors (pronounced bor-e-vos) the infamous South African style sausage. Actually to use the term “sausage” in describing Boerewors might be insulting. Sausages in American English also include those shriveled grey processed things you buy frozen and heat up in the microwave. To use Bratwurst would also be a misnomer because a bratwurst is definitively German: it has a defined beginning and end, and is consumed at a scheduled event in Oktober. A Bratwurst, like its American cousin, the hotdog, it is a micromanaged piece of meat.

Leave it to the Africans, then, to redefine what an encased piece of ground meat can become. It is so unique that you actually have to use another language to adequately address it! (Afrikaans for “Farmers Sausage”) Boerewors, when bought, is bought seemingly by the meter. It comes rolled up in a great big coil that lets you decide how much you can handle. No links, no breaks, just a giant roll of spiced ground meat in neat casing.

We had the braai on the banks of the Zambezi, miles from any paved road, and so much “in” the wild that the sound of fighting hippo rumbled through the camp every few minutes. Furthermore, a passing fisherman told us he had seen elephant pass by 200 meters away from us, and Chris Shepherd warned the boys to stay far from the edge as there was a 10 foot crock swimming nearby. As we walked around as well, we had to be careful of the giant dried two foot deep mud holes left by elephant tracks, and found a Kudu skull stripped clean and bleached white by the sun.

When the sun started setting, we loaded up the cars and went through the bush trying to find our way back. Literally we just drove over small trees and bushes trying to find our trail in to the place. The only problem was, sitting in an open back safari truck, every time we drove past a tree or an especially ornery bush, we had to duck or cover our arms from the thorns.

Who Is Robben Island?

In Chirundu we were playing a game with everyone called "30 seconds". There is a card with names of 5 things or people and you have to describe the thing to your team without saying the name. If they guess it right, you move ahead on a board. It was made in South Africa- and has names of famous cricketers and rugby players in addition to things like “Beverly Hills” and “The Big Apple”(Interesting how US culture is pervasive in South African board games…).

It was Kean’s turn and he was going through the names and was visibly confused with a few of them. After his time ran out, we had gotten a few points against the other teams when Kean said something that will follow him forever as a white African:

“I knew most of the names except one or two. Who is Robben Island?”

(The island off of Cape Town that Nelson Mandela was imprisoned on for nearly 27 years...)

Chirundu

Yesterday I arrived back from four days in Chirundu, the small border town between Zambia and Zimbabwe. On the southern side of the Zambezi river, it connects with Zambia via two large modern bridges which are used for commercial truck and freight crossings. The town consists of one main road lined with a diesel station, a petrol station, and a hang of a lot of Baboons indifferently running in between the trucks. Throw in two derelict buildings which now house bars and heaven knows what else, and you have the “Downtown”.

Further up the road, adjacent to the bridge lies the stately gated border station which controls the bridge traffic. Pulling off of the main stretch is a road that winds up the top of bluff overlooking the Zambezi. Along this road are several thatched cottages and small houses which are rented out to game fisherman who come to fish along the Zambezi. Go 10 meters in any direction off of any road in Chirundu, and you find your self thick in the bush surrounded by hauntingly bare baobab trees.

Go 65 Km upstream the Zambezi (to the south) and you eventually hit the visible Kariba gorge which contains the Kariba dam. Behind the dam is the largest lake in Zimbabwe, lake Kariba, and beyond that for a few hundred miles you come to Victoria Falls: close to the 4 way border point between Zambia, Botswana, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Chirundu essentially lies at the heart of what Zimbabweans call “the Valley” of the Zambezi which holds some of the most magnificent wildlife on earth. 40 Kilometers across (from where we were) the Valley winds up the spine of Zimbabwe until it goes through Mozambique, and from there to the Indian ocean.

There is one problem, however: the dam is going to break. . . soon. Evidently the architect who designed the dam killed himself because the other three dams he built all collapsed killing thousands. Kariba is the last one standing, and judging the Zimbabwe government’s ability to upkeep pre-existing structures, no one is optimistic.

House in Chirundu

The house we stayed at was a really cool thatched roof house which had vaulted thatched ceilings. There was a patio, and a pool which overlooked the edge of the bluff and 65 Km upstream. It was a fantastic place to stay. To give you an idea of how rugged this place is, if you notice the pictures, the trees (and the edge of the thatched roof) all have barbed wire on them. That’s to keep the baboons and leopards out of the trees. Kirsti Bell, the Bell’s daughter who lives in Chirundu, lives up the road and said that one morning she woke up to three elephants in her garden. At night sitting under the clear starry skies (I can now find the southern cross. . .) it was eerie because we heard the Hyenas in the hills nearby. At first they don’t “laugh”, but slowly whoop back and forth. And then more and more join in until that’s all you hear. We knew it was time to go to bed when the hyenas started! Despite the great perks, the location meant a threat from thieves, because it bordered the bush.

Since the city is right across the river from Zambia, the locals say that Zambian thieves cross over each night and raid the houses where people are renting. Thing is, if Zimbabweans cross over and are caught, they are arrested by the functioning Zambian law enforcement (Chris Shepherd said- “If I had money to invest somewhere in Africa, the country I would invest in would be Zambia. It’s a great country that works”). Even when we were on the boat, we could not touch the Zambian side, and always landed on the Zimbabwean side.

The first day when we unloaded the boat in the water, a black guy dressed in what we assumed was a uniform from the local safari company came and helped us. He told us his name was Walter. When Chris Shepherd drove the truck and the boat trailer up to the parking area, the Safari company guys told him off for letting Walter in with us, when he just came down and started helping.

We didn’t pay him, and later that day when we landed he was waiting for us. We still didn’t pay him and told him to stay away from us and the boat. However, the next day, he showed up at the gates of our house (several miles from the dock) and begged for money. Keith Bell told him to go away and not come near us again, but it was strange that he found where we were staying. That night, the house next door was robbed.

“Walter is a spy for the Zambians” Chris told us. The cook that worked for us tipped Chris off. “He sees who is where, and what they have down at the docks, and then he lets the Zambians know.” That night we locked everything up because we thought we were next, and there wasn’t any incident that night. As we left Chirundu, Chris told me that he thought that our cook worked for Walter as well. Chris said that the cook would tell Walter how well things were secured each night, " I'm sure of it"

Odd Bits and Ends

We are heading to Nyanga and Chirundu for the next week, and won't be able to write much. In the meantime, here are a few things that we've experienced:

The Energizer Generator
The Lanes have a generator that they bought in 2007 which basically runs the whole house when there is a power cut. Bob and I did a service on it the other day and saw that it had operated for 1,254 hours since 2007. Given the amount of horsepower that it has, and given that it runs at a constant 3,000 RPMS, Bob guessed that it puts out the same energy that a car would at 50 miles an hour. If that is the case, the generator has driven 62,700 miles: nearly three times around the earth. Go Chinese generators!



American Coins, and American Dollars
Because Zimbabwe’s currency completely crashed in hyper inflation a few years back, Zimbabwe operates entirely on the US dollar. The other day we were shopping for groceries and Mandy gave exact change in US coins to the teller.
“We don’t accept these coins” he said.
“You use American dollars and your telling me that you don’t accept American coins?”
He eventually took the coins, but since many of them have never seen American coins, they don’t trust them. Nor do they know the difference in the coin values. Mandy told me later that they prefer to use South African Rand because while they give us 10 cents to the Rand on our change, it is worth more (like 15 cents in South Africa and elsewhere). When stores collect and distribute Rand for a devalued price here in Zim, they can bank it for a higher values in South Africa and make a higher profit overall. However when they collect American currency, they can’t make the same profit because they operate on the dollar.

The other interesting thing about American money here is that it all looks extremely old and worn when compared to money from the states(see picture). Literally, the cash is limp and almost like damp greasy oil clothe. Take a look at the difference in old and new above. The joke here is that a woman was caught money laundering, and it came out pretty clean!

Wheel Rim Ties
Wheel rims here are zip-tied to the actual wheel frames. The reason is when cars hit so many potholes in the streets, often the wheel rims will fly off and hit people. I had no idea...