Humility & Perspective in Bulawayo

So, its late-morning and I’m suffering from period cramps and a significant sleep hangover…a perfect way to start the day, right? In any case, Mayela, Mitchelle, and I are here in Bulawayo to do some stuff for work. We drove here from Harare (a good 5-hour drive) and after dinner at Cattleman’s I holed up in my room, lit a candle and took a long soak in the bathtub. I haven’t done that in years…but it allowed me to clear my head and think. There have been a lot of things on my mind lately.


Anyways, I’ll write more about that later. Now I need to go out for the day, and seize it…although I’m struggling somewhat.

[Later]


Okay, so today turned out to be a pretty great day! Bulawayo is a really neat town, and I wish I had more time to explore it. The best part of today was going to the Luveve High School in which we, representing the U.S Embassy, delivered $1000 worth of textbooks, encyclopedias, dictionaries, and other reference materials. I hung back a little from the group and was accompanied by a young man, probably 17/18 years old named Mpilo (pron. “m-bilo”) Mpilo means “life” in Ndebele, and he certainly was one of the few students grabbing onto it at that school. The headmaster of Luveve High School told Mitchelle, Mayela, and I that only 7% of Luveve students passed final exams at the end of their years there. Being a private institution, the only funding comes from the parents, without any subsidies from the government to make ends meet…and it’s definitely noticeable not only in aesthetic appeal but in test scores. Also, the school was recently struck with tragedy when a boys hostel caught fire due to an electrical surge. Everything was destroyed, although the buildings structure stands eerily charred against the bluest blue African sky. Fortunately, no students were harmed. However, walking through the scorched building I knelt down and discovered lesson books and assignments, with neatly scrawled, practiced handwriting, in ashes. And that’s when it struck me. For those 4-8 students directly affected by this fire, they have nothing left except what remains in their brains. Stripped of every possession, man is rich with knowledge. It empowers him to take on his world even when it so unfairly throws him down, as it often does here in Africa. Even poverty is reversible for the individual who is trained to help oneself. Such ideas of empowerment bypass the traditional notions of foreign aid dependency that just throw money at problems, a rather topical solution, as compared to a foreign aid plan that could invest into long-term skills training, self-sustenance, and education.


But I digress.


Overall, the experience at Luveve High School was just so incredibly humbling. Meeting students whose futures have the potential to be so bright, yet due to teacher/resource shortage and hence the inability to perform, are snuffed out immediately upon failing senior exams. Even good students struggle to make it into Zimbabwean universities. There was a period of time Mitchelle said that the University of Zimbabwe would only accept straight “A” students…think of all those individuals with the raw ability to progress but without the resources to do so! Think of so much talent that ends up wasting away on the streets of Zimbabwe! An A/B student selling newspapers for many years, or like most of young African men, restless and unemployed! And this returns us to an original questions posted weeks ago, what is needed first? Economic change before political change, or political change before economic change? Chicken or the egg? I don’t feel ready to weigh in right now on this debate…

Which leads me to my afternoon spent with Dr. Sifobela, Dean of Students at the National University of Science and Technology, who I approached to promote student visas to the United States for aspiring undergraduates. However, we mainly discussed the “brain drain” happening in Zimbabwe, in which students studying abroad never return to contribute their skills on home soil. I asserted to Dr. Sifobela how the current lack of structures and available opportunities for students to return to in Zimbabwe is prohibitive to his desires for the repatriation of Zimbabwean students abroad. Dr. Sifobela largely agreed, however remained convinced that without Mugabe students would automatically find Zimbabwe a more attractive destination than the U.S. However I wasn’t convinced. When questioned about the time delay inherently associated with waiting for a post-Mugabe world (just look at Castro for example…still going, and going, and going…) and if there was any faster way towards social change, he just flatly shrugged his shoulders and sighed. When I asked him about Mugabe’s potential successor and the likelihood that the successor would fill Mugabe’s tyrant shoes, Dr. Sifobela said, “You ask all the right questions, but we (Zimbabweans) don’t think that far. We only see to the end of Mugabe’s reign.” Such a cop out from a man of such academic standing! Viewing higher education and the fruits of the labor as the first step to nation-building, he assumes that a regime change will change the attitude Zimbabweans have been developing about their country for decades! Zimbabweans in fact have so little faith in their country that they are running away! Topping the charts, Zimbabweans have the highest asylum rate in the world, beating out even war-torn countries like Somalia, Afghanistan, and Iraq! No, it’s going to take more than a simple regime change to bring Zimbabwean students back to Zimbabwe. It’s going to take a creation of jobs and employment structures, and a shift of mentality at how Zimbabweans view and portray their country to the rest of the world.

So who leaves Zimbabwe? Poor people, who have nothing to lose, and students. Rich people live like kings here. Everyone else can get by…if not barely. But it’s the poor and the newly educated that find life unfulfilling and unsupportive here in Zim. That stigma will have to change if there’s any hope of restoring confidence and keeping Zimbabweans in Zimbabwe. And so far, social change hasn’t been instigated because anyone who is discontent just leaves for greener pastures. And they don’t come back.

Anyways, more food for thought…more fodder for my cable to D.C. I better get crackin’ on that. I’ve got to get that done before I leave. A product of all my nights spent awake and thinking…

Nyanga Getaway.

Ahh, Nyanga was AMAZING! Despite being in the Highlands, we caught the World Cup final game at the local "town" (which consisted of a lodge, and some nearby cabins, haha). I thought the Dutch played alright, but I think Spain played shamefully dirty. They are the biggest fakers, throwing themselves on the ground, screaming, and then getting up and running around completely uninjured while the Dutch kept getting carded. It's frustrating to watch such theatrics, especially when Holland was showing some competitive aggressive play, somewhat uncharacteristic of their possession game style.

In any case, the final was fun to watch, although I dozed off in parts because I was so exhausted from climbing Mt. Inyangani!! Mt. Inyangani is the highest point in Zimbabwe at 2593 meters. Least to say, the view was spectacular! Although it was hazy, we could almost see all the way to Mozambique. The landscape looked alot like passing along the backside of the Sierra Nevadas...but without snow of course, ha! We also went and saw Mtarazi Falls, the highest waterfall in all of Southern Africa. SO beautiful. The water pretty much drops off the mountainside and plummets over 1,000 feet to the forest floor below. We stayed 2 nights in Asa's cabin, and spent the evenings cozily snuggled up by the fire, drinking, eating, telling stories...pretty much perfect, hanging out with my favorite people here in Zim. I've really made some great friends.

On another note, I'm SO happy that everything's worked out for spending Christmas with Bert and Monique!!! VERY EXCITED! My program in Jordan doesn't end until the 23rd, so I'll probably fly up to Amsterdam on Dec. 24. Christmas seems so far away, but until then I'll take it a week at a time. :)

Time flies when you're having fun!

Can you believe I've been gone almost a month? It's unreal. Somedays I feel like I've lived in Zimbabwe forever...other days, even the simplest things can be difficult to deal with. but I think it's definitely safe to say that I am happy here. I really am. :)

Work is good, but becaue I spend 8 hours a day there, I don't really feel like talking about it right now. Also, it's funny because before I came to Zimbabwe, I didn't think that I was going to have much fun here, and that I would throw myself soley into my job. Now, I think I'm having so much fun meeting people and exploring Zimbabwe that work sometimes seems slightly tame compared to the adventures I have on the weekends. I'm actually a little worried about my ability in having a desk job for a career. Don't get me wrong, I'm very much enjoying what I'm doing, and learning alot. I love working with people, answering their questions, helping them get their applications straightened out. That feels rewarding. Also, I'm starting to feel more like an expert and understand the system. But sitting in front of a computer all day, week after week...I dunno. In any case, I've definitely realized how little time 2.5 months really is. It's not long at all, especially when you're surrounded by people who have multiple year posts. It's nice to have a little perspective on the big picture.

My trip to Victoria Falls last weekend ROCKED! I'll tell more detailed stories about my adventures soon. Check out my pictures on facebook!! Don't worry, I took alot more than what you see online, but I didn't have the time or the internet capacity to load anymore. The falls were truely one of the most fantastic things I've EVER seen in my life. Absolutely phenomenal. A world destination. ANDDDDD I went BUNGI JUMPING off the 333 foot high bridge crossing the Zambia/Zimbabwe border. We also went riverrafting, and I took a horse safari. I can't wait to write all about it when I have more time.

Tomorrow, Stan, Asa, Kirsty, Jayke, and I are driving up to the Eastern Highlands. They say that it's one of the most beautiful places in Zimbabwe. Mountainous, green, very Tolkien-Lord of the Rings-like scenery. We've decided to hike up the tallest mountain. The vistas should be incredible. It's nice to have a group of solid friends to travel with. I'm enjoying their company now before everyone leaves in two weeks, and I'm left to fend for myself.

Oh another news brief, I have to move out of my house next week...on my freakin' birthday! :(  I'm kind of bummed because that means that we'll no longer be in our cozy house, and that we have to leave Georgina and Amon, and their adorable children behind. I made friends with the oldest kid, Tatenda. Tatenda in Shona means "thank you." Amon's  little 4-5 year old also loves me for some reason. When I get home from work he often runs out screaming joyfully and grabs my legs. I swear I love little kids. I just wish they could skip the baby stage cause babies make me nervous, haha! Anyways, the new house we're moving too is apparently even more of a mansion, which I'll be living in by myself once Mayela leaves 23 July. It's a little bit out of town, more secluded but still with a suburban feel. We'll see.

Oh and guess what?? I found a place to go rowing twice a week! NO JOKE! There's a rowing club 30 minutes north of the city at Mazoe Dam. The head lady organizer was SO excited in my interest. She even offered me a coaching job, which granted would have been cool, but I'm really not here long enough to truly do anything productive here. But! I get to carpool with other rowers on Thursdays and Sundays. The first regatta is July 25. I hope to race, although I'll probably get my butt kicked since I haven't been on the water for so long! Oh well, bring it on! :)

Healthy Paradigm Shift.

Well, I love Zimbabwe. Nothing pisses me off more than the realization of how greatly the Western media skews Africa as being some big black hole and dark continent, too messy to even bother with. Either the West is trying to "save" Africa, or they turn their backs on it and blame the people for the tyrannical dictators that have violently seized power. Zimbabweans are probably the most gentle, kind, and patient people I've ever met. They suffer from significant poverty and oppression, but feel blessed in living everyday. I wish some Americans I know could see how much is cherished despite what little they have.

I've been here for 3 weeks, almost 4. On one hand I'm feeling much more comfortable interacting with people, not only within the comfortable safety of the embassy community (gated community galore, boo!), but also with local Zimbabweans on the street. I've learned the handshake styles, the casual greetings in shona. I am teased by fruit vendors when I run by all sweaty in the morning. "Run faster!" they shout at me laughing, to which I always groan back, smiling. Also, I've come to terms with understanding my sudden status change. Race is hugely important here. Not only as a status indicator (thanks to diehard Rhodies, aka ex-pat white Rhodesians), but more as a means of self-definition and a reflection of culture. Race is something to take pride in here because it's an indicator of culture. It's a declaration of "being" in a way. For me, as a white, blonde, American woman - I've learned and continue to learn what it's like to be the minority here...And that paradigm shift is incredibly humbling. I felt vulnerable at first, isolated, even a little fearful and defensive sometimes. I kept trying to figure out why I didn't want to do simple things, like go out in town for a walk, and then it suddenly dawned on me how unfamiliar I was with sticking out, how in just walking down the street I was the oddball, something to be stared at, somewhat of a curious billowing blonde spectacle! It was only then that I TRUELY realized how living in mostly white communities my entire life has sheltered me from the difficulties that black, latino, or Native American kids went through at my high school, and continue to deal with on our "diverse" Willamette campus, in just navigating through everyday life! I've always been part of the majority, and I now comprehend how even if I've disassociated myself from sects of the white majority, I've always been safe in the power and privilege it brings to my voice, my ideas, in the construction of my reality. It's magnitude is shocking. But my society has always been dominated by a white majority in which the loudest voice gets the most attention. Now, I am immersed within a black majority, and the tables are turned. I am walking in different shoes and suddenly I know. I GET IT. This has been a pivotal empowering realization of race and societal belonging has transformed my experiences here, and the lens in which I now analyze my own life back home. I still haven't hashed out all my thoughts on this yet...it's something I think about everyday though. I'm working on it.

Another thing that has been on my mind is the power of government institutions in making or breaking someone's whole life. Since, I’m working out of the consular section, which works specifically with applicants wanting American visas, I check passports, take fingerprints, run general interviews, and then pass off each applicant to get grilled by my supervisor. It's been tough for me being the "bad" guy...we only approve applicants with as few ties as possible to the States because many who get temporary visas never come back to Zimbabwe. I feel like I'm in the belly of the beast...that I'm being assigned to do something that is against my very ideas on immigration amnesty that I advocated for earlier in the year. But to beat the enemy, you must know the enemy I suppose, and that's one of the only things getting me through this job right now. We have to deny so many people...split up families. The law feels so dehumanizing to wanna-be immigrants. The bureaucratic hoops applicants have to jump through makes it almost impossible for anyone to get through the processes successfully. I feel like the system is created to deter people from even trying. To challenge me further, my supervisor has even assigned me to investigate fraud cases. People are desperate to get to America and they'll do almost anything, including marriage fraud, passport forgery, you name it. It's challenging work. I hate telling people "sorry, no. My country doesn't want you." And that's another thing: the procedure ALSO dehumanizes the people within the institution!! You have to disconnect yourself. Take my boss for example. He takes his job very seriously, has a personal vendetta against wife-beaters and terrorists, and by golly wouldn't let any old bloke just walk across the border. But the decisions he makes weigh very heavily on his shoulders and needs someone to share the burden with. He's deciding the future of peoples lives. It's as unnerving to him as it is to me. I have a new awareness about this aspect of government work. I'm beginning to wonder whether I'm cut out for a career in government as I've been planning for so many years. How can I have faith in an institution that is so unjust, so uncompassionate on both sides of the glass? I don't know. I'm working on that one too...

That’s all my ramblings for now. Peace and love…