What does the future hold for us?

Well, the month of July is gone, and we have entered the last five months of our stay here in Zimbabwe. First visit to Harare in October 2007, selected and hired in January 2008, finally arrived in April 2008, and now been here for over two years.

End of December our contract ends and so does our stay in Zim. We liked it here, but time to move on, as there are other exciting places in the world. So, we're often getting the question what our plans are, so I thought I would share some of our (vague) ideas and dreams here.

Well, my eyes are drawn to the Arab world. I've done 4 years in South America (2003-2006: Haiti and Brazil), now four years in sub-Saharan Africa (2007-2010:South Africa and Zimbabwe) and next region in the world that I would love to explore is the Middle East or the Maghreb countries.

And of those countries, Lebanon stands n# 1 for us, followed by Syria. This is partly because I really liked Lebanon when I was there (and regret not having been able to visit Syria), but also because the girls and Zoélie are now living in Cyprus, where Ingrid is working for the EU. And Beirut is only a short boat ride away. And talking about boats, that would be part of my dream: living on a boat and being able to just sail away whenever we feel like it, spending holidays sailing round the Mediterranean. Dreams and ideas, but we'll see where the winds blows us. Especially since the beginning of the end has started today: applying for jobs! We had said we would only start looking and applying for jobs starting August, since we want to properly round off our current projects in Zim. So, it will be hard to find something for both Thomas and me, so we made a deal that whoever finds something first (which provides enough for the both of us) takes it, and the other will follow. Then we'll swap in two or three years time...

But though I hope to quickly find something, I would also like to spend some time in Belgium, as it's been a long time since I've been back and babies grow up so quickly...

But we'll keep you posted!

Capoeira solos in and round Harare

For our Ubuntu performance, we also started making a little video that we could show during the break. It started out quite modest, just doing some moves, but then we started heading out to more special locations, looking for landmarks for Harare, and soon we winded up getting up at 5.30 in the morning to shoot some moves on these busy roads.

Anyway, this little video was the result, and Morena, dear pen for the Capoeira Folha Seca newsletter, even wrote an article about it:

Capoeira April Filming Sessions

Bruno the self employed and appointed video footage person and editor/chief in charge/ head producer held a series of Capoeira photo and video shoots at various locations in Harare. The footage served to create a Capoeira Folha Seca portfolio comprised of snapshots and videos of EVERY single member of the group. It was a tiring exercise but he prevailed with his meticulous methodology and eagerness to complete this task.

A couple of us went to the ‘Kopje’ one afternoon. ‘The Kopje’ is a small hill that overlooks the city of Harare and has one of those ‘panoramic’ views from the top. Half way to the summit of the Kopje, expert photographer, Bruno decided to stop to get some air, ask for directions or just look for trouble. The minute Bruno stepped out of the car, a soldier jumped out of the bushes carrying a gun- an old AK47 with a rusted end part. The guy looked like he had not blinked in a couple of weeks and the veins in his eyes were visible from the car. We remained intact. To cut the long story short, Bruno played dumb and innocent but with underlying tones of sarcasm whilst the soldier was very agitated having not blinked for so long and was keen to deport Bruno after pushing him around a bit. The rest of us were silent not eager to witness a sudden shooting by the unblinking one; although Bruno was more likely to contract tetanus with that gun. Bruno sensing danger like a true capoeirista, snapped out of his play acting role, apologised quickly, made a small bow and macaco-ed back into the car. Before the soldier could register that he had let us go we had driven of.

Another group of capoeiristas was summoned by Bruno at 5am in the morning to do capoeira in ‘Leopard Takawira’ which is a picturesque road bordered by Jacaranda trees. (One of those roads that is worthy to be put on the front of a postcard). Bruno closed of part of the road with a red triangle and the crew began the photo shoot. The only near accident that eventuated was when a car (refusing to believe a bunch of guys and a girl in white pants resembled anything similar to a broken down truck) went through the red triangle sign in an attempt to run over Bruno. Luckily Bruno did a back flip over the car just in time and is alive to continue filming. (Okay the back flip was not really a back flip rather simple move to the side)

The National Heroes Acre is a sacred burial ground for declared war heroes that were involved in Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle and some others. The tombstones made of black granite and other exciting structures designed by artists from North Korea and some Zimbabweans made this site suitable for some capoeira footage; bringing capoeira together with Zimbabwe’s rich history. However, Ed ‘Formiga’ still managed to evade Bruno’s filming escapades. But Bruno had another idea.

On Independence Day, 18 April, a picnic was organised at Paradise Pools in honour of the 30 years of consistent rule by th.....oh, sorry I mean to commemorate 30 years of Independence. Incentives offered to Formiga included lots of food and transport. Formiga who thoroughly believes that water is for drinking and washing only, was not overly joyful about

the prospect of frolicking in the rock pools but capoeira in the wild, coupled with food and a music session was enough to make him sacrifice his computer on this particular Sunday. And that is how Bruno managed to get Formiga and the remaining video evaders on video. So a big applause to Bruno!

The ZAVSAP Fair

Wednesday 14 July was THE big day of 2010 for the other Volens network, the Zimbabwe Added Value on Sustainable Agriculture Produce programme. They were organizing a fair on processed food, where they would display all the products they had learned to make, have them taste, exchange recipes, link up with donors and retailers etc. Caroline and Thomas had rented the nelson Mandela Hall in the Harare Showgrounds, a huge hall, and all 9 members set up a stand.

I was there to film and document this entire event, as well as lending a hand and generally just seeing how this went. It was the first fair for that network, representing the highlight, almost one sixth of their total budget and for Thomas a step back into the organizing of salons and fairs. You can also read about it in the Herald, the official newspaper of Zimbabwe here.

It meant getting ten farmers from each member of the network (often from very rural and far away places) to Harare, put them up somewhere and arrange everything logistical for them. They all set up stands and would promote their products, as well as visit the other stands and see what other farmers made. In total, over 700 visitors came, from general public, over NGO and donor representatives as business men. I was happily filming away and doing interviews.

One thing that came back regularly was that visitors appreciated that some products were actually traditional, things their grand parents made before commercial and imported crops took over.

No other similar fair exists, other fairs focus mainly on raw crops that are sold, or livelihood. In rural areas, one hardly finds these products, it is often the same, unprocessed things that are everywhere: tomatoes, rape, spinach and onions. While in other parts of Africa, markets are flourishing everywhere and the informal economy is vital to the survival of many families, maybe even the backbone to the entire economy, in Southern Africa, the British seemed to have left a legacy of regulated markets and formal business, often leading to supermarkets (an interesting blog on this, from two of our couchsurfers).

how to make hand puppets

One of the tools we have developed in Zimbabwe to allow for counselling of children, is puppetry. Many of our partners are very enthusiastic about this, and keep requesting for it to take place at their organisation, which is fine, but it means we have to lend them our home made puppet box as well as the puppets.

Since our programme is closing at the end of the year, we thought it would be more sustainable to equip each organisation with not only hand made puppets, but also the knowledge as to how to make them. So, for two days, 3 counsellors from each organisation came to learn how to make puppets at Oasis, the organisation who had taken the lead to organize this. They sewed, stitched, braided, let their imagination run loose to create the most divers but lovely puppets. Even the only man amongst them (counselling is generally more done by women) made 14 puppets all by himself! It also meant they had two days to chat, share stories and compare how they worked while sewing, which created a very particular and special atmosphere.

Nice atmosphere, but they still made arrangements that everyone had their own personal needle, which wouldn't be shared. When working with so many AIDS orphans, HIV/AIDS is always in people's minds...

The curious accident with the combi

This Tuesday morning, I took out my bike, my faithful Yamaha 200Cc, to go to the office, a 10 minute drive. I was listening to my iPod, and moving along at a moderate speed of 50km/h, when I reached Greencroft shops. Now, this is where all the commuter minibuses (also called combis or ET’s) drop off their last passengers, turn around to head back towards city center and start picking up new passengers. Needles to say, it is a bit of a traffic hazard. Three weeks ago, we saw the results of a horrible accident there, with about 4 ambulances and a combi that had turned over three times, without having collided with any other vehicle). Knowing that these combis are quite often packed with 18 people, I wondered if even the 4 ambulances were enough.

Anyway, I was going to cross at the green traffic lights, while a truck was standing in the middle of the intersection, waiting to turn (left or right, I don’t know). Behind it, coming from my opposite direction, was a combi, wanting to turn right. Since they didn’t want to wait for the truck, they decided on a quick manoeuvre overtaking the truck on the right, which is, you have guessed it, the lane I was travelling in. I don’t know if they simply hadn’t seen me, or thought that a motorbike was not worth worrying about. Since they came out so fast, I didn’t have time to brake anymore. Instead of braking completely and risk sliding under their wheels, I tried to avoid them, and headed for the gap behind them, but they slowed too much for me to pass. Up to here I still remember everything, also the conscious decision of not slamming down completely and aiming for their rear. Next thing I know, I was on the ground, holding my mouth and a buzzing sound around me. As my eyes came into focus, I realized the buzzing came from about 200 people standing around me, all talking and commenting on what had happened. I seemed to be bleeding from about every lower part of my face, my nose, my lips, my neck.  Every body seemed to be giving me advice:
- Stay there, don’t move, you’re in shock!
- Let’s wait for the police, they have to come first.
- Do you want an ambulance, where do you want to go?
- You should go to the Trauma Center!
- Where do you want to put your bike? You can leave it here, in my store…

With my mind clouded, I was just tried to collect my thoughts. First coherent thought I had, was to check for my belongings. My back pack was still on me, with my (work) computer. Would have to check if it was still okay later. My iPod. The woman standing over me was holding it. I mumbled: ‘Could I have it  back.’ She was looking at me with a grave concern: ‘You are in shock, don’t move.’ I raised my voice a bit:' ‘Please give it back, I want to call.’ Oh, now she understood. She gave it back. I now had the difficult task of putting it discretely in my pocket and bring out my real phone at the same time. Don’t know if she noticed but didn’t really care anyway.
I called Thomas, who I had put on number 1 of my phone list thank god. I remember blood spatters falling on the phone and me wondering if it wouldn’t damage the keyboard. Thomas picked up. I said:’I had an accident, at Greencroft, can you come?’. He said': ‘Will be there straight away.’ I hung up, and just moved myself (despite the protestations of the crowd, to the side of the road. Some more people offered to call or drive me to the hospital. I knew though that I would need cash to get service, so I preferred to wait for Thomas. Nothing seemed broken anyway, just my nose. I played with the idea of trying to quickly push it back into place myself but let go of the idea. Seems my mind focuses on practical issues when shocked or drunk, like checking my things or planning ahead. 5 minutes later, Thomas rushed to me, and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t said that I was okay, that it was nothing serious. I asked him to just take me away, to the hospital. While we got up, again advice and questions came for several people. I wanted Thomas to take charge of everything, and not have to deal with anyone, so I gave him some of my business cards and left it at that. They were asking where we were going, and just to give an answer, we said ‘the Trauma Center’. Initially, Thomas wanted to drive me to the Avenues, one of the better reputed hospitals down town, where we had an agreement that our staff can be serviced even without immediate cash (agreement dating from the Zim$ and not necessarily very binding on their behalf). So when we were driving past the sign that indicated the Trauma Center, I suggested we should just go there. So we did. At the entrance, nobody seemed particularly impressed by my bleeding face. The nurse at reception did however lift up the phone and said: ‘we have an emergency’ but that didn’t seem to prompt any quick ER-like reactions. She ten asked Thomas what kind of coverage we had and how we would pay. An agreement on each item seemed to be very necessary before it could be administered.
My doctor seemed okay, relaxed. Nothing went too quickly but I supposed I wasn’t bleeding to death either. Without washing my face, he started cleaning it with betadine and said I would need stitches. It’s funny how vain you are, I immediately started worrying about ugly scars and asked if he could try and make them as neat as possible. The doctor and the nurse just laughed and started sewing away. Most of the stitches were on my neck, but also one behind my right ear. I wondered how I had managed to cut myself there.
All the while, I was worried about my nose: it was all swollen up, and very numb. I was wondering if the stitches really were the priority or if somebody shouldn’t be putting my nose straight. But for that, the doctor said I would need X-rays, also to determine if I had any skull problems. When I wanted to get up, I had real difficulties, my inner thighs seemed completely stiff and aching. The only explanation I can find is that during the impact, I must have tried and squeezed them together to cling to the bike. So they brought a wheelchair and I was wheeled next door, for the X-rays.
Now there was no more urgency and so everybody started taking their time. The police came by and they took my statement, as well as the owner of the minibus, who was very sorry, and asked where we wanted to have the motorbike dropped off. We indicated a garage we often use and she promised she would leave it there. Our insurance guy also came by, but merely to drop off some forms we would have to fill in, not like he was going to take care of any of the bills straight away. The Xrays were done, and nothing seemed broken, not even the nose (though that was less conclusive). The only thing was that two vertebra (C5 and C6) had slipped by about 2mm.
Back with my initial doctor, they said this was usually not too serious but they still recommended to buy a soft collar (10USD, sign here please) and referred me to a neurosurgeon. A certificate that I was unfit for work for the next ten days, a bill of 200USD and we were outside.

After all that, Thomas drove me home, where we quickly had something to eat and then I went to bed, though, unable to sleep, I spend my time watching some movies. Nothing too violent though, because I was still concerned about a possible concussion and thought too many flickering images could be bad for it. Since then, life was pretty quiet and boring. I stayed home for three days, enough time to watch 11 movies (most of them pretty bad) Whenever I make a public appearance, there’s of course lots of questions and stares. With all the bandages and the bruises, I feel like a cross between an Easter Egg and the elephant man. I don’t think I’ll be going to see the neurosurgeon, cause nothing indicates a serious head injury, but I made an appointment with an osteopath next week, to check on those vertebra.

Now, I am back to work, though taking it easy. The swelling in my nose has gone down, though the bruises around my eyes change every day, into an astonishing array of purple, green and blue. 

I will have to sort things out with our insurance and get my bike repaired, which will probably be a lot of hassle again. Wish it had been completely ruined so I could have gotten a new one, but no, it seems it can be repaired. So, I should be back on the road soon again. Seems like I escaped with a couple of scrapes, a broken iPod and a lot of luck.