Saturday, April 10, 2010

a very Zimbabwe day

Last Saturday reminded me of many things I love about Africa--hospitality, simplicity, are-you-kidding?-roads, communal living, and that attitude that says to the persistent problem, "I bet this will work..." Joseph, Vivian and four other relatives stayed at our house Friday night, to give us a head start the next morning. We left only 30 minutes later than scheduled, due to underestimating the time it takes for four adults to take a bath. It's a beautiful drive from Harare to Mutare, and that went off without a hitch. We passed through Mutare town and about an hour later turned off the road on to a manageable dirt path which led us to Joseph's parents' home, their "musha." I so enjoyed their homestead--fields of sorghum, a hot spring, countless baobab trees, a river, livestock, and quietness. Oh, and watermelons--who would have thought watermelons thrive in their hot, arid climate--but thrive they do. Three of us went through half a dozen--just splitting them open, reaching in and grabbing bites. After a while you can just drink out of them like giant cups.

The watermelons added to the guinea fowl eggs and bread made for a fine lunch in my opinion, but of course we were expected to stay for a real meal--sadza. Joseph kindly reminded his mother that we still had to trek three more hours to Vivian's musha that day, and she kindly let us leave. (I know it's so un-African to stay only 4 hours, but something has to give when someone's "oh, and while we're in that part of the country..." consumes 4 extra hours.) So off we go to Vivian's rural home, in Rusape. Her parents live much farther down a much-less-defined dirt path. The rainy season had taken its toll, meaning we drove very slowly to straddle gullies and dance around uneven ground. Finally we arrived, although it was within a few minutes of our ETA back in Harare (hmmm..). They were happy to see us and understood that this was just a drop off (I was only returning with Joseph-the rest of them stayed). Still, they quickly made a small pot of sadza and we nearly burned our fingers eating it as quickly as possible. Not that we were trying to be rude, but driving in the dark poses huge problems....as we were about to be reminded.

Just out of eyeshot, I drove a little too close to a peg in the road (nobody knows what it was doing there) and slashed open my right rear tire. I immediately knew this was going to be a long night. Being in a village, we were quickly surrounded by people trying to be helpful. Some were helpful, and some had been drinking (it was a holiday weekend, after all). The first delay was caused by one helpful guy grinding the sides of my allen key in the process of removing a stuck screw. After an hour, we finally got the spare on and inflated (thankfully someone had a hand pump). After 5 seconds of driving on it, the tire separated from the wheel, and so we were back at square one. Eventually someone volunteered to walk to his home (about 20 mins away) and get a not-so-bad wheel from his "scotch cart," which is a cart usually pulled by cows or donkeys. Why not? I said. Anyway, he got the wheel, we put it on, we started driving, and it lasted all the way to Harare. Actual arrival: 1am.
-d

1 comment:

Neil and Courtney said...

Incredible story, Dan. I'm glad I wasn't there - except for the fact that we'd have a fun story to share. Neil