Driving to work this morning I saw a woman up in the distance walking away from me, I thought she was elderly because she seemed to be hobbling along. As I drew closer to her, I saw that she was barefoot, one foot wrapped with a dirty bandage. She was carrying a canvas bag on her back, the classic hobo pack immortalized by vagrants on trains. What could be in it? She wasn't old, just aged, limping along toward Harare with a very determined look on her face. Where could she be going at 7:30 in the morning, barefoot with a heavy bundle? I will never know.
Where are all the 2 dollar bills? When was the last time you thought about a 2 dollar bill? I recall as a child a distant great something relative sending me a crisp 2 dollar bill for my birthday each year and thinking how odd. As I was sitting at a stoplight on my way to work I gazed around, I noticed the newspaper hawkers who take their lives into their own hands darting between cars to sell their papers. I watched a transaction and saw the wad of bills the hawker was holding, a whole wad of 2 dollar bills. I thought, how many 2 dollar bills do I have in my wallet? When I got to work I checked, I had two. I can't remember the last time I even saw a 2 dollar bill and now I see them all the time, in my own wallet, in the newspaper hawker's wad, at the grocery store. I suppose all the 2 dollar bills are now here in Zimbabwe, the newest dollar economy.
Who is the tangerine man? Is he one man or many who run the blue pickup parked after the traffic circle on Enterprise Road. Lately he has had little pyramids of corn on the cob in addition to the bags of tangerines, carrots and other produce. I wonder who stops to buy his produce. I can't recall ever seeing anyone stopped. I take that back, with the addition of an electric citrus juicer to our stable of kitchen electronics, Ed has begun stopping and buying sacks of oranges from the tangerine man.
Indian food in Zimbabwe is good, very good. Tonight we went to the Delhi Palace Indian restaurant. Our reservation was for 6pm, we arrived at about 6:30 after our usual, after dark, drive around lost. Thankfully their phone and ours were working and we were able to call for directions. Harare is not a very big town, it is laid out fairly logically, but after dark it is really dark, pitch black dark. We were the only people in the restaurant at 6:30, Zims tend to eat a bit later, so we had a full crew of wait staff at our disposal. Drinks were ordered, fanta, sprite for the kids, Castle beer for Ed and I. Delicious meals were ordered and we enjoyed it all. As we were eating, more and more folks showed up, mostly white Zims, but a few tables with black Zims as well. Can't recall seeing mixed tables, anywhere. Old habits die hard. The owner of the restaurant, Bob, stopped by the table to introduce himself and as about our meal. In conversation we learned that he is a 2nd generation Zim, his grandfather immigrated from India in the late 1800's. What stories his family must have.
Here is something I never tried at any other post, but as I told Ed, at every other post we have had a characterless government housing, but here we have a fabulous 1915 colonial farmhouse with loads of character... so my bright idea -- lets paint it something other than the boring embassy white. I found a paint place, was able to get the paint at cost, which was still plenty, from some friends and used the local online diplomat list to find painters, a list which topped about 20. I chose the top three, based on recommendations, interviewed and hired a team that seemed quite nice. Well, they turned out to be the keystone cops of painting... spilled water buckets, spilled paint, paint drips, and to top it all off... broken chandelier. They finished their portion and out the door. The next crew, while still not quite professional painters, were much more efficient and caused much less damage. Now our place is filled with warm color that highlights the beautiful architectural detail, Luberon, Antique Almond, Liberty Linen, Peach Blush (for Charlotte's room) and a combo of Spring Frolic and a bright lime green whose color name I forgot for Lucas's room. He loves his very bright room, we are tolerating it.
This one is great... There is no city water in Harare, that system has long since broken down and folks who can afford it rely on either private boreholes (wells) or trucking in water for giant 5,000 liter tanks. As our borehole died, to make a long story short, we opted to see if we could either repair it or find more water on the property for a new borehole. First step, Byron the water diviner, yup, a real water diviner complete with two L shaped divining rods who roamed around our 4 acres "looking" for water. He popped a stake in the ground where he said the water was located, noted on his receipt that it would be about 72 meters down and that the flow would be between 800 and 1500 liters per hour, a pretty good take. All that with a couple of L shaped rods. Next came the driller, Dennis, who just drills. He and his team arrived about 7:30 in the morning with a big truck, generator and about 8 guys. Found Bryon's stake and started down. They took samples at each meter and laid it all out on the lawn, a mini geology lesson for the kids (I'll post some photos). Ed stopped by around noon and they were at about 70 meters and it was bone dry. Dennis wasn't too optimistic that water would be found since every meter down was so dry. However, at 72 meters, just as Byron had said, they struck water, lots of water with good pressure and it gushed out all over the yard. They continued down to 80 meters and caped it off. Byron was right, chalk one up for the water diviner. Drilling finished, our next character is Craig the plumber... who was a bush guide before being harassed by the govt boy does he have some stories to tell. He is the one who plumbed the water from the new borehole to our system to get it running throughout the yard and to the house (after it is tested for contaminants). He is a real character but with a heart of gold. For now the gardeners are watering the garden brining it back to life... if it tests clean we will have it run to the house as well and keep our 5,000 liter tank in case our borehole runs dry again. The two photos at the top are pics of our new borehole and the matrix of "samples" taken at each meter drilled, at 72 meters the sample is saturated.
Next installment will be our Lake Kariba adventure....
Love,
Shannon
