I apologize for the delay in an update but I’ve been at Penalonga visiting the mission and the sisters. It’s about 30 minutes away from Mutare (city) and up on a mountain and so going into town doesn’t happen very often. I drove from Harare on Friday and made good time, I had 2 tollgates and 5 police checks. The police checks didn’t stop me but I had to slow down. I had my first experience with sour milk on Saturday. Sour milk is bought in the grocery store and is considered a treat and an extravagance here. The sister’s bought some as a treat for me. I have never had sour milk and consider it a sign that the milk has gone bad and should be thrown out. I decided to try it, so I had a quarter of a glass (a real quarter of a glass not my mum’s quarter, which turns out be a half or three quarters). I smelled it and it smelled horrific! I thought there is no way I’m going to drink it, but I did and… it turns out is tastes just like sour cream. Well I was so relieved; I explained that sour milk is like sour cream but runnier. That at home we put it on potatoes and on chili. One of the sisters put it on her sadza so I thought I’d try it on my sadza and it was like having potatoes with sour cream. What a relief! I had brought school supplies for the mission and asked Sister Annamore where should I take them, she suggested she would divide them up and split them among the children in the community who are orphaned but live with relatives. The orphanage has had problems with stealing by the children. They wait until the sister is in bed and climb through the ceiling to where the clothes, food, etc is stored in locked cupboards. They climb out and open them using the keys they have stolen from the sister’s pocket (I have no idea who they manage to do it but Oliver would be proud). They sell the goods and buy whatever they want. The sister’s are trying to find ways to catch them, and teach them a better way. The ceilings are now sunken down from children climbing in them. I took the sister’s to church and to a farm to get potatoes. The roads here are unbelievable, in Canada we would only use a 4X4, well in Zimbabwe owing a car is huge never mind a 4X4. So my Astra Opel and I went 4X4 in the bush and I must say it was brilliant. I didn’t expect us to make it but, we survived.

This past weekend was very busy for me, I spent Saturday at Bally Vaughan, which is a game park. You can go for the day, which includes; a safari ride, lunch, walking through the animal orphanage and a elephant ride, you can spend the night at one of their lodges or you can go on your own (which is what I did with friends) which limits you to the animal orphanage, the restaurant and the damn for swimming. Various people sponsor the animal orphanage and helps rehabilitate injured and abused animals. It was nice to walk around and see monkeys in and out of cages, lions and hyenas (in cages) and all sorts of other animals I have never heard of before. We sat outside and had a nice lunch infront of the damn. I saw for the first time ever a zonkey (a zebra crossed with a donkey) and a zorse (a zebra crossed with a horse). The zorse was brown and black striped (like a zebra) with the body size of a zebra but the shape of a horse. The zonkey was again striped like a zebra, colour and size of a donkey with the shape of a zebra. If you want to know how they breed this animal, it’s beyond me and when someone first told me about it, I thought they were kidding but I have witnessed it with my own eyes. They have marmots that run around the park, they are 2 teams of 30 each. They are mischievous little creatures who like to crawl up in your engine and chew the wires. All in all it was a good day. I spent Sunday in church. A woman I had met that week had asked if I would come to her church, she is one of the pastors there and wanted me to see what it was all about. It was a Baptist church in a field in a farming community. It’s an off road kind of place where potholes are an understatement of what you are driving in, it’s like 1 big ditch. I was impressed that my car actually survived and made it through with flying colours. The service started at 10 and finished just after 1. It was all in Shona with dancing and singing. I had someone translate the whole time, which was nice for me but probably very distracting for him. I was introduced as a guest and asked to speak, which I wasn’t prepared for. I then had someone translate for me as my Shona is still very primitive. Church was followed by lunch of sadza and cabbage, which I must say I missed the sadza not so much the cabbage. Then at about 4pm I went home. It was a long day but a good one and I was able to see what a real enclosed farming community is like. They live completely to themselves, they all help out and work together to feed and support one another; it’s an older community where before this church came 2 years ago, it was a native spiritual community. This means that their faith was based on spirits, ancestors and medicine men or witch doctor. I haven’t personally seen any of this kind of thing and I am told that it’s unlikely because I am white and so won’t be seen by a witch doctor.

Well the car is now in my possession and I’m driving around like a madman. I love it. I’d like to say I miss the combies but when I drive past and think (it’s going to take them another 30 minutes to get where I’m going) I feel happy and relieved that I am now independent. I had an interesting experience in my car the other day. I was on my way home after dinner with some friends and I turned on my headlights and nothing happened. I played around with the lights and checked to make sure I was actually turning them on, but they just didn’t work. So my friend drove in his car infront of me and his wife drove in my car with me and I drove my hazard lights on. So the next morning between me and my friend Richard we tried everything, we checked the fuse box in the car, tested the fuses leading to the headlights and they were all working. So frustrated and confused I took the car to a mechanic. 45 minutes later and my wheel taken a part, he could not figure it out. Then he noticed a button, not a part of the original vehicle on the side of the wheel. His eyes widened, the button had been added on to control the lights. The original headlight switch had broken and the owner hadn’t been able to find the parts to have it replaced so they improvised and made a new one. The mechanic looked at the connection and noticed it had been disconnected. He reconnected it and URECKA it worked. So I now have headlights.

Today I met with a wonderful woman who renewed my faith in humanity. Her daughter was born with a heart defect and respiratory problems, which went undiagnosed for 13 months when she died. Her mother, Sylvia, because of her daughter, went back to school for special education because had her daughter lived, she would’ve been severely disabled. She started this project in the hall of a church helping children with disabilities by teaching them both class work and life skills. In 2002, the church said that she could no longer use their facilities and she found a property in a suburban area of Harare. The property was large enough that they could have a garden (to grow food), a playground and a secondary building on site as a second class room. She has been running this school for 18 years, with the help of a small but effective staff. They have 3 groups of student; preschool (2-6 years), junior (7-12 years) and senior (13 and up). Sylvia creates and individual curriculum for each student based on their needs. They have had students graduate with “O” level and continue on. She has a Autistic boy who was very good with electronics and now works for BMW in Switzerland, she had a Down syndrome girl who was very good at speaking so she now works as a receptionist at a law firm. She has students running IT departments, working for farm labs doing AI in cattle, and 2 students working at her school as helpers. She has 18 preschoolers, 15 juniors and 15 seniors. She needs more help but can’t afford/find qualified help. She asked me if I could help her write up a portfolio and application to send to Canada and the US to find volunteers wanting to come and help. This woman has given her life to helping children who otherwise would be left to rot. Zimbabwe has a lack of funding and resources to help these children. As well, they don’t see them as worthwhile because they don’t think they can contribute. The schools just ignore them and their families struggle to help them. Sylvia also takes them once a year to a family farm for a week, to give their parents a real break. This also allows the school staff to find out their available life skills; can they dress themselves, can they bathe themselves, etc. She says it is surprising to find that lots of children can do this for themselves but their parents don’t think they can and just do it for them or they just don’t have the patience. Sylvia has seen children learn to talk, walk and feed themselves when doctors and parents told her their child would never be able to do it. She provides a safe space for them to be themselves and learn at their own pace.

Well the car is now in my possession and I’m driving around like a madman. I love it. I’d like to say I miss the combies but when I drive past and think (it’s going to take them another 30 minutes to get where I’m going) I feel happy and relieved that I am now independent. I had an interesting experience in my car the other day. I was on my way home after dinner with some friends and I turned on my headlights and nothing happened. I played around with the lights and checked to make sure I was actually turning them on, but they just didn’t work. So my friend drove in his car infront of me and his wife drove in my car with me and I drove my hazard lights on. So the next morning between me and my friend Richard we tried everything, we checked the fuse box in the car, tested the fuses leading to the headlights and they were all working. So frustrated and confused I took the car to a mechanic. 45 minutes later and my wheel taken a part, he could not figure it out. Then he noticed a button, not a part of the original vehicle on the side of the wheel. His eyes widened, the button had been added on to control the lights. The original headlight switch had broken and the owner hadn’t been able to find the parts to have it replaced so they improvised and made a new one. The mechanic looked at the connection and noticed it had been disconnected. He reconnected it and URECKA it worked. So I now have headlights.

Today I met with a wonderful woman who renewed my faith in humanity. Her daughter was born with a heart defect and respiratory problems, which went undiagnosed for 13 months when she died. Her mother, Sylvia, because of her daughter, went back to school for special education because had her daughter lived, she would’ve been severely disabled. She started this project in the hall of a church helping children with disabilities by teaching them both class work and life skills. In 2002, the church said that she could no longer use their facilities and she found a property in a suburban area of Harare. The property was large enough that they could have a garden (to grow food), a playground and a secondary building on site as a second class room. She has been running this school for 18 years, with the help of a small but effective staff. They have 3 groups of student; preschool (2-6 years), junior (7-12 years) and senior (13 and up). Sylvia creates and individual curriculum for each student based on their needs. They have had students graduate with “O” level and continue on. She has a Autistic boy who was very good with electronics and now works for BMW in Switzerland, she had a Down syndrome girl who was very good at speaking so she now works as a receptionist at a law firm. She has students running IT departments, working for farm labs doing AI in cattle, and 2 students working at her school as helpers. She has 18 preschoolers, 15 juniors and 15 seniors. She needs more help but can’t afford/find qualified help. She asked me if I could help her write up a portfolio and application to send to Canada and the US to find volunteers wanting to come and help. This woman has given her life to helping children who otherwise would be left to rot. Zimbabwe has a lack of funding and resources to help these children. As well, they don’t see them as worthwhile because they don’t think they can contribute. The schools just ignore them and their families struggle to help them. Sylvia also takes them once a year to a family farm for a week, to give their parents a real break. This also allows the school staff to find out their available life skills; can they dress themselves, can they bathe themselves, etc. She says it is surprising to find that lots of children can do this for themselves but their parents don’t think they can and just do it for them or they just don’t have the patience. Sylvia has seen children learn to talk, walk and feed themselves when doctors and parents told her their child would never be able to do it. She provides a safe space for them to be themselves and learn at their own pace.

The car saga continues. Thursday 1pm arrived, but no car and no driver, Thursday 1:30pm no car and no driver, so I called my driver. You might ask yourself why I didn’t call Lazarus sooner and waited the 30 minutes, because in Africa, time is not like it is at home, there is a saying “This is Africa”, which means it’s another world over here and things happen when they happen or don’t. Anyways I called Lazarus and it turns out he went to get a part for the car and it died in the middle of the street. He had to have my car towed. I asked for a new timing belt on the car, it didn’t need it but I didn’t know when it had last been changed and if your timing belt goes while your driving the party is over, so I thought if I had a new one I would have a record of it. Anyways Lazarus showed up at 2 in a different car. We headed off to ZimRA to pick up my certificate of ownership, the lineup was HUGE and what should have only take a few minutes with each person ended up much longer. We had to get to the Post Office before 3:30 to get the plates, license and registration. We barely got there before it closed and I found out that I didn’t have the necessary documentation required to pick up these things. Lazarus had forgotten to tell me what I needed so we couldn’t get the final bits. So I went home disappointed that I would have to wait another day. Friday morning I dropped off the necessary bits that Lazarus needed to take to the Post Office, and discovered that they needed to call in a specialist for the car, the problem was electrical and Lazarus couldn’t fix it. So I would have to wait another day. I was thinking that I was never going to get the car and thinking it would be another week. Luckily for me Saturday was AIDS Clinic day in Mabvuku. This is a program that has been running for the last 12 years by the Anglican Church, which I attend in Avondale. They help 50 families with food, school fees and medical problems. I always find that when I go, it puts things into perspective, that no matter what’s going on for me that someone else has it harder but that they are so excited to be there and get the help. I was asked to take pictures to send along with the newsletter but Murphy’s Law the battery had died and the local store didn’t have any batteries. So it’ll have to wait until next month. While I was in Mabvuku I got a message, my car has been fixed and I can pick it up as soon as I like. HURRAH!!! I’m going tomorrow morning (Sunday) to pick up my new (to me) car!!! Well I picked up my car!!! It was really exciting, all the paperwork has MY name on it. The first thing I did when I got home was clean it! My mum would be so proud, I vacuumed the whole car and washed the inside down with Lysol wipes (the greatest invention EVER). I felt quite proud. There is a “baby on board” sticker from a previous owner so at least people will drive cautiously near the car, even though there isn’t a baby. There is also an angry bull dog sticker, which is coming off that I’m trying to remove.

Well I am officially a car owner! But the system here to buy a car is unbelievable! When you buy a car, you first take it to the central police station in Southerton, which is just outside the city limits and is at the edge of one of the high-density areas. Your car waits in line where the engine number and license plate is checked. You then take the paper you are given to an office where a man signs the paper. You then go to another office where the numbers are run through the computer to check that the car and engine aren’t stolen. Luckily for me ZESA was working and I was able to have this done. From there you go to another office, where they check your paper work for the “Agreement of Sale”. They make sure that you in fact bought the car and that the person who sold it to you agreed to it. I bought my car from a company called Origin. They are an agriculture firm. Since the owner didn’t want to come with us, he signed an Avadavat. This allows me to buy the car and do the paper work without him being present. The officer at the office thought he could make a few dollars off of me and wanted to see the ID of the man who signed the paper. I told him that he didn’t need to since the Avadavat means that his presence isn’t necessary. He shrugged and moved on. I had to give him my thumbprint, which was messy, God bless hand sanitizer and I managed to get most of the dye off. From there you head to another office, where a man stamps your paper stating that you have been cleared. We then had to go to ZimRA, which are the tax people. Your car is evaluated and then charged 5% tax. When you go to the office, someone reads over your paper work, makes sure all the right things are there and all the right papers have been signed. He then writes out a receipt with the amount you owe. You take it downstairs to the cashiers floor and pay, where you get another receipt. You head back upstairs to the first office you went to and hand in the receipt. They then take all your original copies plus a second photocopied set (which you bring with you) and they give you a reference number and a date and time to collect them. Now I was very fortunate and had someone with me to show me what to do and who to see. He works for the man who sold me my car. He’s a driver and a mechanic, Lazarus. Without Lazarus, I would’ve torn out all my hair and cried. At ZimRA, the woman behind the desk asked if I worked with Lazarus and knew who he was because there are people who wait outside ZimRA for people like me and offer to help them out for a fee and end up taking them for a ride. I thought she was very sweet to check up on me and make sure I was all right. So Thursday at 1pm I can go and pick up my certificate and paper work from ZimRA and head off for the next set of appointments, which include: registration, licensing and number plates. Every time the car is renewed or re-sold the plates get changed. The only reason for this is because there is 1 woman in town that can do this and she wants to make money. I was fortunate in that I didn’t wait in line all that long, some people wait days at ZimRA, and the police line is around the block. I started at 10:30 and finished at 12:30 both places. I then went to a garage and picked up an emergency car kit, which included: jumper cables, motor oil, brake fluid, electrical tape and spare spark plugs. So until Thursday…

The paper read today that 11% of maize crops have suffered. I thought that that didn’t sound too bad, but I was told that the paper changes numbers so it doesn’t sound so bad. A farmer here told me that it’s between 25-33% of maize crops have failed. I don’t see the point in lying. People aren’t being fed and the government needs to do something about it. Funny story, I was walking home from taking a combie and an army officer came up to me and asked me for money to get a ride home, I wanted to tell him “Ask your boss, Mr. Mugabe”. I would think that the army are one of the few jobs around here that actually get paid decently, he probably was just trying me on and seeing if I would give him the funds. I recently met a white woman in her 80’s who is still working full time in order to survive. She’s a dietician and makes $42/month. And has learned how to survive on that. Her family from Holland sends her some money every month to help out but I thought “why would you stay here and when you can go home and retire”. Well obviously in Holland she couldn’t live on $42/month but then she’d also get assistance from the government. Last night I went to the theatre. A local production called “Hay Fever” by Noah Coward. The theatre that was used is a small one, with about 40-50 seats. The play is about an over-the-top family and their guests that they invite up to the country for the weekend. It was quick witted, funny and well acted. Today I pick up my car! It’s my first car it’s a ’98 Astra, Opal, station wagon. It’s a German car, purple and today I sign the papers and pick it up! I had always thought my first car would be a Hybrid or a ’67 Shelby Mustang but this will do me just fine. This car is the one you tell your kids about when you look back when they ask you to buy them a car and you tell them about yours.