maybe if you poke it with a stick (part II) July 24, 2008

 

“We have a bit of a situation,” announces Katie, coming into the kitchen.  I put down the dish towel.  A situation?  I sigh.  It would seem that there is never a good “situation” in Africa.  “Well, do you have the key to the boys’ room?  Because Joseph has locked himself inside”.

 

Joseph, a dear boy of 7 years, has a knack for getting himself into trouble.  Whether stealing sugar, throwing rocks at his friend or urinating out of a window, he loses more TV time than any other child.  Most recently, sweet Joseph got his hands on some matches and lit a fire near the soccer field.  Well, the African bush during dry season is basically kindling, so it quickly spread.  Thank goodness that it was extinguished before it burnt through a nearby borehole line.  This latest stunt netted Joseph a full week of restriction.  No play time, no walks and no TV.  Harsh but fair.

 

This night, upon hearing the rest of the group laugh at the antics of Nemo (or some other Disney character) from the confines of his bed, Joseph decided that he’d had enough.  To show all of us, he locked himself inside his room.  Hmmm… So interesting is the thought process of a 7 year old.  I mean, really?  How does that hurt me at all?  But it was enough to send the aunties into a panic.  He might lose an arm in there or something!  Call in the Cavalry! 

 

Because (of course) we don’t have a spare key for the room, Scott tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin.  Well, Scott isn’t exactly Jack Bauer, so that didn’t go too well.  He soon fell into the “if you don’t open this door right now, so help me….” spiel.  Joseph was unphased.

 

Or at least we thought he was unphased.  Peering in the window, it would seem that Joseph had actually fallen asleep.  Curious, given all of the banging on the door, but kids can sleep through anything, I suppose.

 

After all of 10 minutes of knocking and stern talking, I gave up.  It’s fine, I instructed.  When he gets hungry, he’ll have to open the door.  Until then, let’s just leave him in there.  What’s he going to do?  I’m tired.

 

Walking outside, I discover that the aunties haven’t given up yet.  In fact, they are employing a most ingenious method for child persuasion.  Taping together two brooms, they have fashioned quite a long pole.  They stick the rod through the window and poke Joseph squarely in the back.  He sighs and continues his slumber.  Poking him harder, they practically lift him from the bed.  Still nothing.  A few sharp jabs to the leg, a tap on the head, repeated swats on his bottom.  Finally, some prodding that is strong enough to turn him over completely does the trick.  Joseph is awake!  10 voices shout instructions in Tonga at him.  Dazed, he makes his way to the door and turns the handle. Crisis averted.

 

Walk softly and carry a big stick.  Seems good advice for orphanage directors too.

local politics July 24, 2008

I have walked in forbidden territory.  Though my passport may not bear the stamp, I have crossed the line into Africa’s headache du jour, Zimbabwe.  Okay, so I did little more than take a picture with the ‘You Are Now Entering Zimbabwe’ sign on the bridge connecting Zambia and her troublesome neighbor, but it was thrilling nonetheless.  There’s something about a crazy dictator that heightens the excitement.

 

Living barely 30km from the border, many have asked what is happening here on the ground.  To be sure, the region that borders Zambia is much different than Harare.  There is still the hope of tourist dollars in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, so it remains largely shielded from the crisis that grips the capital and the rest of the country.  No, starving Zimbabweans are not streaming across the border.  No, Robert Mugabe is not amassing troops next to the Falls.  It would seem that life continues as usual. 

 

Most interesting to me has been the reaction from Zambians, many of whom have closely followed the election woes.  Stopping at a typical Indian-owned mini market one evening, I overheard an exchange between the shop keeper and a vendor while waiting to purchase my diet coke.  The woman, a Zimbabwean, was in town for a few days, hoping to sell her wares.  Very seriously, the owner informed her that he would buy from her only when she and her countrymen had ousted Mugabe.  Until then, he instructed, she should not return.  The woman bantered back, arguing that she and most of her neighbors were voting for the opposition.  Certainly she could not be held responsible for the decision of the masses in a city far away.  The shop keeper was unmoved and sent her on her way.

 

A few days ago, while on our way to a safari in Botswana, our driver mentioned that he had attended classes in Zimbabwe, years ago.  When we asked if he had returned recently, he had an interesting reply.  “No”, he stated.  “Many people, we think that President Mugabe is not right in the head.  What if he were to decide to close the borders and we were trapped inside?”   Though that seems improbable to me, it is the same man who destroyed the entire farming industry and ordered stores to halve their prices in a ridiculous bid to curb inflation.  It is the same man who continues to insist that Western powers are behind the fall of the nation instead of his misguided policies.  I suppose, then, that it is fair to question what ludicrous thing he might do next.

 

Though I think that most Zambians sympathize with their Zimbabwean neighbors, they can’t help but be happy with their economic windfall from the situation.  Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe used to be a premiere tourist destination.  It has a better view of the Falls and is more developed (i.e. comfortable) than Livingstone.  Now, though, Westerners are scared to visit, unsure of the political climate, concerned about safety.  Instead, they change their route just a bit, winding up in Zambia instead.  New hotels are opening all over town while a gorgeous, five-star resort just across the river sits almost empty.  “Just the Chinese and Indians now, the only friends left,” explained one local.

 

Zimbabwe is a tragedy.  A promising politician with good intentions went the way of too many African leaders and descended into a frenzied grab for power and control.  Unable to cede anything for the greater good, he ruined an entire country and isolated a nation.  Perhaps even more disheartening is that millions were unable to stop him.  Lacking education, power and enforceable term limits, things got so far out of hand that the general public found it impossible to turn them back. 

 

Given this perspective, I have a difficult time listening to my fellow Americans lament that our current President has led us down a path to ruin.  Seriously?  I don’t need a wheelbarrow full of bank notes to buy a loaf of bread.  Farmers haven’t been chased from their land by disgruntled war veterans.  And he’s out come January.  But I digress…

 

So, what can we do?  How do we help?  I don’t know.  Though I think that it’s important for the world community to take a stand against the current leadership, real change can only come from the Zimbabweans themselves.  It’s their country, it has to be their decision.  Until then, we pray.  We pray for President Mugabe, we pray for the country and we pray for the people.  God is bigger than crazy dictators, even Bob.