hi..huge torrential rains and windstorm last night thundering down reaking havoc on hardened red mud cow tracks wandering through Handeni up hills and down dales...this morning rendered undrivable, cancelling our trip into the villages, buses have stopped running, allowing for a free day on the internetwhich is happily up and running so far..pray...yesterday got heavily into an email to my kids and the power went off, that's it...patience...
Got the bank account and address of the Handeni HIV/AIDS Positive Organization...27 members,this is a big deal here for people who are positive to come out...the STIGMA of testing positive is enormous, humiliation, embarrasment with family and neighbours, some are suicidal, so to belong to this organization is huge..those who hide away deprive themselves of support and medical assistance....their lot is much worse, we are trying to assure them, that this happens to millions of people world wide that they re not alone...
They asked me inCanda who looks afterthe sick...i try to explain,various organizations, family...friends...welfare...hospital assistance,insurance, etc...they have so little of this here...so
YOU CAN HELP.... Ihopethis is okay with you to be putting out ways to help these people..it is different here, because i know andhave pictures of the very people your donations will assist....their lives are so desperately sad...the basics, there are none...so if you are interested....any amount of assistance is needed:
Donations sent to; Handeni HIV/AIDS Positive organization....
Bank: NMB Handeni, PO Box 123, Handeni, Tanga, Tanzania.
Account number; 4142300435.
As i said, any bit helps...i asked them about seeds here, and told them about what we were hoping to do to help in Zimbabwe...but many seeds don't grow here, it seems..so financial donations are the best....let's seewhat happens! i intend to take these projects home when i get back in February....andkeep them up...
learning about marriage here; eventoday, not just in traditioal ways...the husband to be must give the girls family 4 cows and 8 goats..two cows right before the marriage and two when the first two children are born....the goats right off..plus blankets et....the youngest son must look after the parents in their old age, i likethis idea..johnny take heed!! In the masai tribles, thewarriors can sleep with whomever they wish....if ahusband comes home to find a spear dug into the ground outside his mud hut, he must leave without complaint...the warrior have their ways....hence the HIV population is high with Masai...
i am walkingat least ten miles a day....up hill and down....to get home, i must wend my way carefully through mud and dung pits and holes amongst cow herds and goats bleating and mooing, down to the water source i spoke of yesterday...andthen back up to home...it is easy to find my way, i follow the women carrying empty pails for water...or the guys on bikes with six two gallon plastic carriers strapped on...headingfor the water..all along the way i am saying, :JAMBO...to everyone and anyone who shouts out the same to me, the only MJUNGU (white person) in handeni that i have seen..the children either shriek in terror as i come along and run swiftly back to their mothers hollering,orrace up to touch me...one or the other...nothing in between.
Whenifinally get my way down to the bottomewhere the sourceis, there are about fifteen bikes there waiting to fill up, lots of women, with huge pails of water balanced on their heads,howdo they do it..i amcarrying my litre of bottleddrinkingwater...they all shout, the guys, HOW ARE YOU?? laughing merrily at the sight of this white woman struggling all the way down these hills and going back up...it is all very merry....at the top yesterday i am met by my two four year old boys: Kenneth and Bryson..i am so happy to see them....
Every night we do about a half hour of exercises....yoga, they copy everything i am doing..plus some singing,they are trying to teach me Swahili..i have got about 8 phrases down pat...but that's it..useless!! but trying....
Dinner is around nine. Either the maize flour porriage like national dish called UGALI..same as SADZA in Zimbabwe...which you ball up in your right hand and dip into various sauces, the vegetable, a combo of tomato, onion, carrot...then with bits of beef, or fish...so far no chicken here tho there are lots of them running around freely everywhere...mornings are alive with screeching roosters, quail, the mooing of the two cows right under my window.....Breakfast is usually tea,with ginger...and crepes...rolled intowraps...delicious...
That's it for now...
Lots to look forward to, tomorrow possibly a traditional wedding ceremony...ontheweekend diner with a German woman i just met yesterday...church, Pentecostal with singing anddancing..the head of ICA Tanzania is comingin this weekend as well, I am hoping to organize a safari over xmas andnewyears...andthen on tosomewhere else, this is after this month here.,.,
Take care everyone...itwill be great to catch up with you when i gethome..take notes!
hugs.L
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Oh how do i wish this computer had access to my camera, have fabulous photos,but we are lucky here in the far corners of Handeni Tanzania to finally have the only INternet Cafe in town working after three days of trudging heavily up here, and i mean up, in sweltering heat, dripping humidity...the kind you run from in Canada to the pleasure of air conditioned cars, houses, but here there is none.... no relief but to sit quietly on occasion and let the inside temperature of your body sinkdown...the town is bigger than the villages we thundered through on the most rickity of buses yet Sunday from Dar es Salaam..packed with people on the seats, in the aisles, the only saving grace is the beauty of them with colourful fabric textiles you dream of, each stop drawing forth boys carrying high to reach open bus windows oranges, hard boiled eggs, pastries of some sort,all covered in flies...hot dry gutted pitted paths and trackways we sludged along, cow paths - leaving the tarmac far behind - six hours of it...got off at the wrong stop in Handeni, taxied back in the back of a pick up with my three huge dusty bags to Dignas house..nice, open, dark...a severe water shortage here, a ditch in the valley below with water pouring out in bits to service the town, boys carrying six 2 gallon yellow plastic containers strapped onto bikes, racing down for the fill, and back up, over high hill and down into gullies...pushing their load by hand, it is gruelling and i thank my stars i am only carrying my back pack and purse...someone brings water to our house...i have my own room with a bathroom attached. one pail is for the toilet after using....the other warm in the morning but gorgeously cool when i reach home around 5..set into the base of a shower, crouch naked and begin the most refreshing moment of the day....the cleanse,it is divine and never again will i take our shower/bath system with ample water for granted, ever. Electricity too, shortage, we move about by candlelight, from about 6: 30 on....lucky if we get lights for half hour a night, mostly never..
Meals are prepared by their maid Ashiona....there is a small round stove fuelled by charcoal sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor,dishes are prepared on the floor....taking hours to get ready, dinner is about nine...Digna who speaks some English is away for the week, her poor husband is left with me, a shy man with little English..plus two four year old boys who are my constant companions, yoga, singing and drawing...alot of my evening is spent in my room under the mosquito netting reading The White Masai with a little flashlight.....I recommend this book immensely..i am fascinated by the Masai people, they are tall, slim, gorgeous wrapped in cloth carrying a sort of sword. Bedecked in beads, the women stunning as well...you see them in and around town, their village is about twenty kil away....i will be taken to them next week or so, to show them art things,to spend a day...this is a real treat as white people and even non Masai don't get to do this often....
Have been taken to the Handeni hospital twice now....visiting people positve with Aids..seeing conditions....hundreds waiting on benches, with babies, old people, ,Masai....
The Aids epidemic is becoming worse here, they have had access to free ARV treatment since july and since then people see there is a 'cure', so they go back to their old ways without condoms..education is badly needed here..there is a huge population of Muslem people with multiple wives...always this problem, and with the small houses (mistresses) it is difficult to stop the pandemic...education is needed, money is needed...just came back from the Aids HIV oranization to talk with their 27 members...about Aids in our country....in Zimbabwe...the grandmothers we read about, the four year old girl who stands as high as my knee,scrawny, frail limbs, huge black eyes, pleading,whimpering for food, she is hungry i am told...the grandmother warm, open loving, what can we do? i will get their bank information...maybe someone out there can help, any amount will go a long way, and i am adamant that the connections i am making will go directly to the people who need it...things are very tough here, as they seem to be all over Africa with people who are sick, poor...what can you do with a widow who is positive who has four children and no means of support....
Met with a classroom of 12 to 15 year olds who asked all about Canada..snow...and painting and drawing....my workshop will be next week, provided we can get paint,otherwise i am giving small classes every day to groups of 4-6...pastel, sharpies, water...showing upside downdrawings....contour..
Tomorrow we are taking a bus outside of Handeni to a village of an artist who does folk art things...i can 't wait...
Missing you all...especially at night...for an extravert like me to be on my own for four weeks every night for hours in my room, thankfully with great books..it is a challenge...
Hugs to you all....in CAnada,in Zimbabwe,missing that wonderful land too...xl
Meals are prepared by their maid Ashiona....there is a small round stove fuelled by charcoal sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor,dishes are prepared on the floor....taking hours to get ready, dinner is about nine...Digna who speaks some English is away for the week, her poor husband is left with me, a shy man with little English..plus two four year old boys who are my constant companions, yoga, singing and drawing...alot of my evening is spent in my room under the mosquito netting reading The White Masai with a little flashlight.....I recommend this book immensely..i am fascinated by the Masai people, they are tall, slim, gorgeous wrapped in cloth carrying a sort of sword. Bedecked in beads, the women stunning as well...you see them in and around town, their village is about twenty kil away....i will be taken to them next week or so, to show them art things,to spend a day...this is a real treat as white people and even non Masai don't get to do this often....
Have been taken to the Handeni hospital twice now....visiting people positve with Aids..seeing conditions....hundreds waiting on benches, with babies, old people, ,Masai....
The Aids epidemic is becoming worse here, they have had access to free ARV treatment since july and since then people see there is a 'cure', so they go back to their old ways without condoms..education is badly needed here..there is a huge population of Muslem people with multiple wives...always this problem, and with the small houses (mistresses) it is difficult to stop the pandemic...education is needed, money is needed...just came back from the Aids HIV oranization to talk with their 27 members...about Aids in our country....in Zimbabwe...the grandmothers we read about, the four year old girl who stands as high as my knee,scrawny, frail limbs, huge black eyes, pleading,whimpering for food, she is hungry i am told...the grandmother warm, open loving, what can we do? i will get their bank information...maybe someone out there can help, any amount will go a long way, and i am adamant that the connections i am making will go directly to the people who need it...things are very tough here, as they seem to be all over Africa with people who are sick, poor...what can you do with a widow who is positive who has four children and no means of support....
Met with a classroom of 12 to 15 year olds who asked all about Canada..snow...and painting and drawing....my workshop will be next week, provided we can get paint,otherwise i am giving small classes every day to groups of 4-6...pastel, sharpies, water...showing upside downdrawings....contour..
Tomorrow we are taking a bus outside of Handeni to a village of an artist who does folk art things...i can 't wait...
Missing you all...especially at night...for an extravert like me to be on my own for four weeks every night for hours in my room, thankfully with great books..it is a challenge...
Hugs to you all....in CAnada,in Zimbabwe,missing that wonderful land too...xl
Saturday, November 25, 2006
GREETINGS FROM DAR ES SALAAM....TANZANIA....!!
HOt hot hot..humid...the air thick with moisture, sun hot..so closer to the equator, with seven minutes and eight seconds togo beforethis sticking machine grinds to a halt....a great flight here from Handeni...six hours all the way up to Nairobi and back down, go figure but blessed to sit next to a kindred spirt from Uganda..and Aids worker who travels all overthe world..brilliant.loved her...made the flight and last goodbyes from zim pass/ran all over Harare the last day. to find Mary Meza a peanut butter making machine...to supplementher income,thisis micro economicsin full swing,she and her co workers willmake the butter, sellit. and hopefully get a bignew start,weall needthat...plus a last goodbye to the twins Leo and Leon....she wailseverytime she sees the white ghost woman from Canada...i love these people....willmissthem terribly...
Picket up by Digna Peters andher friend,freshfrom a workshop here....havingf just met...she is modern the firnd traditional,from the coastalculture, henna,scarf...her husbandincontrol ofher.....a chain aroundher waist for beauty...
ON to Handeni tomorrow,6 hours on the bus, to the Masi....
Luckily your.take care, sorry about this,machine...xL
HOt hot hot..humid...the air thick with moisture, sun hot..so closer to the equator, with seven minutes and eight seconds togo beforethis sticking machine grinds to a halt....a great flight here from Handeni...six hours all the way up to Nairobi and back down, go figure but blessed to sit next to a kindred spirt from Uganda..and Aids worker who travels all overthe world..brilliant.loved her...made the flight and last goodbyes from zim pass/ran all over Harare the last day. to find Mary Meza a peanut butter making machine...to supplementher income,thisis micro economicsin full swing,she and her co workers willmake the butter, sellit. and hopefully get a bignew start,weall needthat...plus a last goodbye to the twins Leo and Leon....she wailseverytime she sees the white ghost woman from Canada...i love these people....willmissthem terribly...
Picket up by Digna Peters andher friend,freshfrom a workshop here....havingf just met...she is modern the firnd traditional,from the coastalculture, henna,scarf...her husbandincontrol ofher.....a chain aroundher waist for beauty...
ON to Handeni tomorrow,6 hours on the bus, to the Masi....
Luckily your.take care, sorry about this,machine...xL
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
hi..my last posting before Tanzania tomorrow....reflections of Zimbabwe, but first, many have written: how to help? what can we do directly from Canada...?
HERB AND VEGETABLE SEED DRIVE: MUNARWO and ORPAH MAGADZIRE..two immensely open, outgoing, friendly people, both widowed 5 years ago to Aids- found each other, both HIV positive, he with tuburculosis on ARV treatment, making a big difference in high density community of Kambuzuma...they've come out re their status,energetically, emphatically facilitating workshops on HIV education, prevention, Home Care, Perma Culture - importance and healing qualities of herbs, good diet,the drugs don't work without nutritional diet - sharing personal health experience, side effects, home care needs with others ashamed or afraid to reveal status - hence not getting support, antiretroviral drugs, help from community.
They've started a big community garden, growing 36 different kinds of herbs and vegetables; ..drying, making ointments, cremes, GIVING food to those in need, educating and SELLING their produce - proceeds going to ORPHANED CHILDREN supplying school books, fees, pencils, uniforms, shoes...these two dedicating their lives for others -I am in awe. Orpah bursts into song at my workshop...strong, praising God, thanking for the things they have, the love and care for each other, the joy...it is loud, fun, delightful, bursting into dance; contageous.
WHAT CAN YOU DO? PLEASE!! send packets of herb and vegetable seeds to continue the success of this project, to: Munarwo and Orpah Magadzire, 327 Section 2, Tsanga Road, Kambuzuma, Harare, Zimbabwe...If anyone would like to email them:
indigem36@fastermail.com. They will keep photos and records of donated seeds and contact us regularily...GREAT IMPORTANT IDEAL, and we CAN make a difference..
oh Zimbabwe...I fly out tomorrow morning at 11am..all the way up to Nairobi and back down to Tanzania, 9 hours in total for a short distance, such is the way in Africa...Sad to be leaving so quickly..realizing how much i am going to miss so many friends: how much i want to return...Mary Meza my project coordinator..who has unfailingly shown me the way, routes and buses, facilitation, food, customs people - surprising her this afternoon with a peanut butter making machine, a project she can only dream of to supplement her income, with ever horrible rising inflation - Chipa smiling, huge, dancing, lost three sisters to AIDS; Cathrine who makes cloth bags and sells potatoes at Mufakose Saturday market - enough to purchase last year a sewing machine to grow further; Paddington - actor, film maker, satellite installer, handsome, witty, teasing: with a wife,4 kids, two parents, uncle, neices and nephews all "scratching his back" all needing support...magical stone carver Tawanda introducing me into a world of Bushman caves and villages and traditional ceremonies, spirit mediums, mbira (see pic, Rasta musicians, batik making - visiting for the last time baby twins: Leo and Leon..more milk, getting stronger everyday - Collettah district coordinator, huge, warm, heart - relentless and determined to save those babies...the family I've stayed with who house and feed me..last night at the Zimbabwe college of music, in a tiny room bursting with awesome vocalist Tauerai Nzira and his outstanding gospel band, in rehearsal - stunning, simply blown away, with brother Frank, himself an outstanding musician.
Could I bring them to Canada in June?...
Zimbabwe, with its purple, pink, coral blossoms, stunning sunsets, wide avenues, squishing buses, music, dancing, joy,warm, generous people: the REMEMBERING WALL at my workshop, 19 people recording 97 names of those they've loved - framed in colourful paintings, first time artists proud, empowered, determined to keep painting...
Zimbabwe: recently bread basket of Africa: massive inflation, fuel, electrical, water shortages, brain drain, depleted drugs and medical supplies, corruption, impossible to understand like a wanky mirror in the circus grounds, hugely proud, resilient, determined to survive,to ride it out....
and SAFE, yes safe..in every respect...unlike what we read in western press: political false warnings to keep tourists (money) out; UNSAFE they scream: it simply is not true. Everyone who visits here knows it. I have gone everywhere, done everything; as i would at home..watching carefully as I would at home. Period. Illegal sanction; read Cuba. More about that later...
Moving on..
Tanzania.. another land, another world...this time to Handeni, a small village hotter, humid, buzzing with mosquitos....malaria, first pill this morning...Masai people..tall, beautiful, beaded carring spears.. mud huts with few windows.. the internet cafe across town, a bit of a walk..often not operational...just to let you know..may take some time communicating, it will kill me.
I'm off...be well..
PLEASE SEND THE SEEDS!! hugs...me
HERB AND VEGETABLE SEED DRIVE: MUNARWO and ORPAH MAGADZIRE..two immensely open, outgoing, friendly people, both widowed 5 years ago to Aids- found each other, both HIV positive, he with tuburculosis on ARV treatment, making a big difference in high density community of Kambuzuma...they've come out re their status,energetically, emphatically facilitating workshops on HIV education, prevention, Home Care, Perma Culture - importance and healing qualities of herbs, good diet,the drugs don't work without nutritional diet - sharing personal health experience, side effects, home care needs with others ashamed or afraid to reveal status - hence not getting support, antiretroviral drugs, help from community.
They've started a big community garden, growing 36 different kinds of herbs and vegetables; ..drying, making ointments, cremes, GIVING food to those in need, educating and SELLING their produce - proceeds going to ORPHANED CHILDREN supplying school books, fees, pencils, uniforms, shoes...these two dedicating their lives for others -I am in awe. Orpah bursts into song at my workshop...strong, praising God, thanking for the things they have, the love and care for each other, the joy...it is loud, fun, delightful, bursting into dance; contageous.
WHAT CAN YOU DO? PLEASE!! send packets of herb and vegetable seeds to continue the success of this project, to: Munarwo and Orpah Magadzire, 327 Section 2, Tsanga Road, Kambuzuma, Harare, Zimbabwe...If anyone would like to email them:
indigem36@fastermail.com. They will keep photos and records of donated seeds and contact us regularily...GREAT IMPORTANT IDEAL, and we CAN make a difference..
oh Zimbabwe...I fly out tomorrow morning at 11am..all the way up to Nairobi and back down to Tanzania, 9 hours in total for a short distance, such is the way in Africa...Sad to be leaving so quickly..realizing how much i am going to miss so many friends: how much i want to return...Mary Meza my project coordinator..who has unfailingly shown me the way, routes and buses, facilitation, food, customs people - surprising her this afternoon with a peanut butter making machine, a project she can only dream of to supplement her income, with ever horrible rising inflation - Chipa smiling, huge, dancing, lost three sisters to AIDS; Cathrine who makes cloth bags and sells potatoes at Mufakose Saturday market - enough to purchase last year a sewing machine to grow further; Paddington - actor, film maker, satellite installer, handsome, witty, teasing: with a wife,4 kids, two parents, uncle, neices and nephews all "scratching his back" all needing support...magical stone carver Tawanda introducing me into a world of Bushman caves and villages and traditional ceremonies, spirit mediums, mbira (see pic, Rasta musicians, batik making - visiting for the last time baby twins: Leo and Leon..more milk, getting stronger everyday - Collettah district coordinator, huge, warm, heart - relentless and determined to save those babies...the family I've stayed with who house and feed me..last night at the Zimbabwe college of music, in a tiny room bursting with awesome vocalist Tauerai Nzira and his outstanding gospel band, in rehearsal - stunning, simply blown away, with brother Frank, himself an outstanding musician.
Could I bring them to Canada in June?...
Zimbabwe, with its purple, pink, coral blossoms, stunning sunsets, wide avenues, squishing buses, music, dancing, joy,warm, generous people: the REMEMBERING WALL at my workshop, 19 people recording 97 names of those they've loved - framed in colourful paintings, first time artists proud, empowered, determined to keep painting...
Zimbabwe: recently bread basket of Africa: massive inflation, fuel, electrical, water shortages, brain drain, depleted drugs and medical supplies, corruption, impossible to understand like a wanky mirror in the circus grounds, hugely proud, resilient, determined to survive,to ride it out....
and SAFE, yes safe..in every respect...unlike what we read in western press: political false warnings to keep tourists (money) out; UNSAFE they scream: it simply is not true. Everyone who visits here knows it. I have gone everywhere, done everything; as i would at home..watching carefully as I would at home. Period. Illegal sanction; read Cuba. More about that later...
Moving on..
Tanzania.. another land, another world...this time to Handeni, a small village hotter, humid, buzzing with mosquitos....malaria, first pill this morning...Masai people..tall, beautiful, beaded carring spears.. mud huts with few windows.. the internet cafe across town, a bit of a walk..often not operational...just to let you know..may take some time communicating, it will kill me.
I'm off...be well..
PLEASE SEND THE SEEDS!! hugs...me
Monday, November 20, 2006
Hi...Monday late afternoon...too late for a long blog this time...\it's almost nightfall and have to get home....so much to say, about traditional African ceremonies celebrating the mermaid spirt, water, dancing, music, hot, mbiras an ancient traditional instrument, giving a beautiful one, trying to learn to play a little, loud music, chanting...dancing....then the spirits coming forth....raw eggs mixed with wine, bawdy, chain smoking Portuguese fish monger...another glowing beautiful like Sophia Loren speaking perfect English....who in her mortal body a simple peasant woman speaking only Shana, by day hoeing and hacking the fields for maize planting...and that is only a little of it...
Tomorrow and Wed my last art workshop....meetings...materials....saying goodbye to people ravaged with the daily task of survival in this beautiful land, suffocating with western sanctions, which do nothing but attack the poor...everyday, inflation higher and higher..prices up, food, pure water scarce, transportation impossible, and yet such resiliance, such joy, delight, huge....despite sickness and death permeating the very fibre of each family, each person...it is natural here, normal, a way of being, a way of life. of helping each other, neighbours, friends...giving, helping, showing, assisting, caring....something so rare in our culture...makes me think so much....
Got to run...talk soon..xL
Tomorrow and Wed my last art workshop....meetings...materials....saying goodbye to people ravaged with the daily task of survival in this beautiful land, suffocating with western sanctions, which do nothing but attack the poor...everyday, inflation higher and higher..prices up, food, pure water scarce, transportation impossible, and yet such resiliance, such joy, delight, huge....despite sickness and death permeating the very fibre of each family, each person...it is natural here, normal, a way of being, a way of life. of helping each other, neighbours, friends...giving, helping, showing, assisting, caring....something so rare in our culture...makes me think so much....
Got to run...talk soon..xL
Thursday, November 16, 2006
When i'm out there i'm thinking of everything to write..then i get into this little box and it disappears,like the 21 cows that got electricuted by a single lightening bolt under a tree, zim getting more lightening i am told than any other country in Africa. i am sure that is intriguing to you, yes?
Today a meeting with the five high density (slum) district head coordinators...foot soldiers each one of them, discussing at first what they'd accomplished this month, or hadn't...workshops, outreach, networking, visits to bedridden patients,relatives, funerals, hope, laughter, joy, hardships, despair,it is all the same, one huge smorgazborg of life at its fullest..these people work tirelessly voluntarily, when asked why..one man, part time actor, full time when he is not working with ICA satallite hanger upper...lost four brothers, he is the fifth, another woman the same with three sisters...everyone has someone in their family, husband, wife, neice,next door neighbour, rampant, pendemic..they can't not do this work, her face shines with light, that that she has a chance to learn how to prevent this carnage, teach people, assist, doing everything she can to try to stop it, get a handle on it...unstoppable passion, devotion.
Huge. it is their life here...fully...non stop, never ending...impossible for me to comprehend, even being here. Moving from one family tragedy to the next, with such humanity, humbleness, joy, laughter, i'm not kidding...openness you don't see so often at home...living so close the the edge..
Leaving next week..just when i get settled, used to how things run here, how they work, get to know and trust a few people well, moving on..
it's a bit clearer now...going from one country to the next, seeing,living, comparing,hopefully adding to each situation, giving to the next what i learned from the last...All the work through the years tied up in being here..drawing from every experience, things just come, falling into place..insights, ideas, knowing a bit, just a bit, learning patience, sitting back and observing, the experience of someone else leading, taking the back seat, learning way more than when i am the driver...
Such insight, such human experience, such knowledge. so much hope, care, prayer. With so little. Pure Survival. Where to get sadza, rice, potatoes for tonight's dinner? Not where, (there's lots of food around for those who can pay) but how? Everyday things get worse. Sanctions; no foreign money this year, for Anti-retroviral Aids meds. 45,000 people on it; 600,000 not.
Gawd it's depressing..and what is the answer...??
Gerald's father told me this morning that black ants in a row travelling along on the cement of a patio are looking for a place to go down before rainy season; if they dont they will die. Down is under the earth, where they have been storing food for months, like squirrels, or chipmunks which they dont have here...hardly any dogs. too costly to feed. One cat. 298 chicks born last week and growing everyday in the garage where i am living, the doors tightly closed keeping it hot and unbearably smelly; ready for chow by December...lots of cows, goats, sheep outside town. Old people bent in two hacking at the fields with ancient tools tossing corn seed into rainy season, back breaking, hunkering down. Women in skirts. Me too.Swinging along. Tomorrow, another workshop on HOme Care...then on to the village and caves....
have a great weekend...I think it's Thanksgiving...happy bird. back Monday...
Today a meeting with the five high density (slum) district head coordinators...foot soldiers each one of them, discussing at first what they'd accomplished this month, or hadn't...workshops, outreach, networking, visits to bedridden patients,relatives, funerals, hope, laughter, joy, hardships, despair,it is all the same, one huge smorgazborg of life at its fullest..these people work tirelessly voluntarily, when asked why..one man, part time actor, full time when he is not working with ICA satallite hanger upper...lost four brothers, he is the fifth, another woman the same with three sisters...everyone has someone in their family, husband, wife, neice,next door neighbour, rampant, pendemic..they can't not do this work, her face shines with light, that that she has a chance to learn how to prevent this carnage, teach people, assist, doing everything she can to try to stop it, get a handle on it...unstoppable passion, devotion.
Huge. it is their life here...fully...non stop, never ending...impossible for me to comprehend, even being here. Moving from one family tragedy to the next, with such humanity, humbleness, joy, laughter, i'm not kidding...openness you don't see so often at home...living so close the the edge..
Leaving next week..just when i get settled, used to how things run here, how they work, get to know and trust a few people well, moving on..
it's a bit clearer now...going from one country to the next, seeing,living, comparing,hopefully adding to each situation, giving to the next what i learned from the last...All the work through the years tied up in being here..drawing from every experience, things just come, falling into place..insights, ideas, knowing a bit, just a bit, learning patience, sitting back and observing, the experience of someone else leading, taking the back seat, learning way more than when i am the driver...
Such insight, such human experience, such knowledge. so much hope, care, prayer. With so little. Pure Survival. Where to get sadza, rice, potatoes for tonight's dinner? Not where, (there's lots of food around for those who can pay) but how? Everyday things get worse. Sanctions; no foreign money this year, for Anti-retroviral Aids meds. 45,000 people on it; 600,000 not.
Gawd it's depressing..and what is the answer...??
Gerald's father told me this morning that black ants in a row travelling along on the cement of a patio are looking for a place to go down before rainy season; if they dont they will die. Down is under the earth, where they have been storing food for months, like squirrels, or chipmunks which they dont have here...hardly any dogs. too costly to feed. One cat. 298 chicks born last week and growing everyday in the garage where i am living, the doors tightly closed keeping it hot and unbearably smelly; ready for chow by December...lots of cows, goats, sheep outside town. Old people bent in two hacking at the fields with ancient tools tossing corn seed into rainy season, back breaking, hunkering down. Women in skirts. Me too.Swinging along. Tomorrow, another workshop on HOme Care...then on to the village and caves....
have a great weekend...I think it's Thanksgiving...happy bird. back Monday...
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Rainy season crashed down upon the corregated roofing of Section 2 community centre in high density area of Kambuzuma, 30 k west i think of Harare...three weeks late they say, climate change...impossible to hear herbalist fascilitator Mungarwo Magadzire describing HIV AIDS home care, yesterday and today. 20 some participants, most of whom are positive he tells me, tho most of whom haven't come out. He and his wife of 4 years have, big time, having both lost mates to the disease 5 years ago, they found each other. "I am not the teacher; WE teach each other, are you with me?" Charismatic, strong, proud, informed, he weaves and cajols stories and information out into the open. I learned a lot. Primary and secondary caregivers, roles, infections and how to treat them: 95% get diahhrea which we spent half the morning discussing, with cures, to my interest, read my lips. Some brought their babies. I'm holding them, playing with them, missing mine so much. These babies, some too are positive. This disease is so rampant here; it feels like everyone has it, or has a sister, or neice, or someone who has just died. Pandemic. But getting better, from the 90s with 30% diagnosed to now with 18%, tho a rise in "little houses" is uping the stats considerably in the last few months, little houses being the second house of the mistress, or mister finding favours outside the marriage and passing it along. They've just passed a law against child abuse and it seems in retalliation it's growing in leaps, papers screaming with it, plus lots of corruption, court cases, shootings, infants being left in caves..the usual, plus a good dose of info on solar panels, alternative energy - the rise in electrical shortage causing someone to consider.
I did a session on meditation; stress relief, breathing deeply, in and out, in with the healthy positive, out with the toxic. White light. They had never experienced this; some reported that it eliminated heachaches, that they could actually FEEL the inside of their bodies..I'll add this onto my art workshop next week; seemed to do some good...what else...busy, planning workshops, materials, just getting around,half my life is on those buses.
Street scenes: a makeshift table of tin propped up on stacks of brick, carefully piled tomatoes in a pyramid, pieces of ginger, potatoes...pumice stone. LIttle clumps of people selling anything and everything, to anyone who can or will buy. No harassing, no begging, no one lying on the sidewalk, the streets abound with stunning people, high fashion, women, dressed beautifully, with freshly cleaned ironed clothing. Hair is plaited, crocheted, wound, twisted, braided, gorgeous, with bright red tressles dyed or extended, stunning. Most women wear skirts. Simple, unadorned, western clothing, you don't see costumes, traditional wear.
Brian wrote me of the languid pace he experienced in Uganda many years ago; not here, we are rushing always, on and off those crazy buses, squeezing, moving quickly, but with care not to collide; crossing streets with cars racing along on the other side of the road; trained for my life to look right when stepping out, not left, try it, took me three weeks...
A second visit with the twins Monday...with three thick foot long bars of soap for laundry imported from South Africa and a bit wad of paper money, enough to buy milk for 10 weeks; felt good, and again thanks to all of you who have helped out. I know exactly where your money is going and it is a great feeling.
Nine days to go and on to Tanzania a week Friday.
With the spirit medium and ancient village with bushman cave drawings, I can't begin think of leaving Zim, yet.
Hope you are all well, wonderful...talk soon...L
PS sorry no pics; the computer with memory is occupied..hopefully next time..be well.
I did a session on meditation; stress relief, breathing deeply, in and out, in with the healthy positive, out with the toxic. White light. They had never experienced this; some reported that it eliminated heachaches, that they could actually FEEL the inside of their bodies..I'll add this onto my art workshop next week; seemed to do some good...what else...busy, planning workshops, materials, just getting around,half my life is on those buses.
Street scenes: a makeshift table of tin propped up on stacks of brick, carefully piled tomatoes in a pyramid, pieces of ginger, potatoes...pumice stone. LIttle clumps of people selling anything and everything, to anyone who can or will buy. No harassing, no begging, no one lying on the sidewalk, the streets abound with stunning people, high fashion, women, dressed beautifully, with freshly cleaned ironed clothing. Hair is plaited, crocheted, wound, twisted, braided, gorgeous, with bright red tressles dyed or extended, stunning. Most women wear skirts. Simple, unadorned, western clothing, you don't see costumes, traditional wear.
Brian wrote me of the languid pace he experienced in Uganda many years ago; not here, we are rushing always, on and off those crazy buses, squeezing, moving quickly, but with care not to collide; crossing streets with cars racing along on the other side of the road; trained for my life to look right when stepping out, not left, try it, took me three weeks...
A second visit with the twins Monday...with three thick foot long bars of soap for laundry imported from South Africa and a bit wad of paper money, enough to buy milk for 10 weeks; felt good, and again thanks to all of you who have helped out. I know exactly where your money is going and it is a great feeling.
Nine days to go and on to Tanzania a week Friday.
With the spirit medium and ancient village with bushman cave drawings, I can't begin think of leaving Zim, yet.
Hope you are all well, wonderful...talk soon...L
PS sorry no pics; the computer with memory is occupied..hopefully next time..be well.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Hi...sunday morning in Zim...thanks for emails. how are you? election? let me know!
Technical finally met! pics from camera to computer, so here we go! my art workshop, the Remembering Wall, bbq at Friday concert, newest best friend and social director, children's class, Mary Mesa doing her first painting, trees bursting with blossoms,Twinbs....hope they get to you from here...enjoy!
Ah...Sunday morning coming down, huge concert Friday night,thousands of people, roasting pork, chicken, with salza-the national food, a paste of flour which you ball up with your right hand, dip into veg or meat,delicious, on stage Alick Macheso,dancers, flashing,hot,crazy,non stop moving till 3am, purse got razor lashed across the bottom -nothing lost whew, home at 4 - wiped yesterday - too old for this stuff!collapsed, relaxing, catchup, nice...quiet, lovely.
Am experimenting..will post this then do the pics..
Technical finally met! pics from camera to computer, so here we go! my art workshop, the Remembering Wall, bbq at Friday concert, newest best friend and social director, children's class, Mary Mesa doing her first painting, trees bursting with blossoms,Twinbs....hope they get to you from here...enjoy!
Ah...Sunday morning coming down, huge concert Friday night,thousands of people, roasting pork, chicken, with salza-the national food, a paste of flour which you ball up with your right hand, dip into veg or meat,delicious, on stage Alick Macheso,dancers, flashing,hot,crazy,non stop moving till 3am, purse got razor lashed across the bottom -nothing lost whew, home at 4 - wiped yesterday - too old for this stuff!collapsed, relaxing, catchup, nice...quiet, lovely.
Am experimenting..will post this then do the pics..
Friday, November 10, 2006
Hi - it is wonderful for me to hear that people are actually reading these things..i sometimes feel that i am writing away happily into cyberspace like a "hello wall, it is me again, howare ya?"!! You know when you have those days that you just know you will look back for the rest of your life and remember..well that was me yesterday..
It kind of started out with a bit of a logistics misunderstanding, but ended up with a great stone sculptor Tawanda and i heading out of Harare on a big old rickity bus to what was described to me an ancient 'village, and caves, with bushmen paintings, ceremonies, drums, etc..' in the Dombosuawa area of Zim, ask me whether i was thrilled...
After an hour of tossing and lurching through countryside, flat, red soil, bricks are abundant here, we stopped at a sort of parking place, filled with old pick up trucks, a centre for food shopping, people milling around...jumped into the front of a blue pickup, the back jam filled with guys comuting from jobs in Harare, five guys bending into the hood, pushing the old jalopy backwards its driver next to me, trying to get it started, and off we went...
Another hour through dusty red roads, gutted, rutted, rocks, holes, past round concrete huts with thatched roofs, little clusters of these homes, people carrying packages on their heads, women in bright dresses, skirts, even out here in remote rural Africa..groups of schoolkids in uniforms straggling home sharing the roadside with cows, goats, and us..slowly making our way to finally the village, which is a compound of one huge family, called Chitauro which means 'place of communication', the patriarch Dominique who Tawanda had told me about, greeting us, hugely friendly, warm, laughing, lovely...the husband of five wives, father of 36..the 5th wife, 23, with 6 kids, one girl, five boys taking me on a tour to the round kitchens of all the wives, clean, a fire area in the middle, thatched roof, brightly coloured dishes, the sleeping area in the next small hut, clothes hanging abundantly from the ceiling, and on to the spirit house, where i am told the ceremonies are held, we take off our shoes, watch, camera and head inside, concrete floor, again the thatched high pointed ceiling...a raised stage at the front to hold the spirits, three ratan mats, one at the front for Dominique who is the spirit medium, and one on each side, for the women, and men..drums in the corner...a place with energy which felt hugely spiritual..awesome..Tawanda told me the spirits come in the early morning and late evening...resting during the day..there are five houses on the compound where the seven spirits live..a library holding a far better selection of books than most (in Harare the books range from Christian religious to self help)..a place where guests can stay, all very primitive...met everyone, the wives, many kids, a grandson with the same name Tawanda who makes mbiras which are small hand help musical instruments with prong like metal pieces which you fling with your thumb and first finger hard, making fabulous music...
we have been invited back next Friday night after my workshop...
there will be a ceremony late that night in the spirit house..
i will sleep there on the floor to cleanse myself, in the early morning there will be a ceremony to receive the spirits of my ancestors...
To be continued, that story, in a week from now..
and on to the caves...
massive high slabs of rock covered in green and turquoise liechen...we climb up and up following the arrows...it is almost sunset, the wind blowing softly, a warm almost evening...we climb, i am breathless, with the vista of miles of rock and hills and mountains...huge rocks set upon each other...i have forgotten the name for this, but God made...heavenly sent, this was a space in time..no one there but the two of us and the spirits of rock, sky and ancient times. what more to say.
we couldnt' find the caves.
we are coming back next weekend..on Sunday after the ceremonies...dying to see the drawings inside, by bushmen, maybe 1500 years ago...
A day of legends, stories, philosophies, ideas, politics..
Made a decision on the way home..I am canceling my weekend trip to Victoria Falls..the money not spent will go to the twins..I wrote about. Have seen pics of the falls, have been to Niagara a million times..this one is for me..
thanks for listening, hugs and have a great weekend...xL
.
It kind of started out with a bit of a logistics misunderstanding, but ended up with a great stone sculptor Tawanda and i heading out of Harare on a big old rickity bus to what was described to me an ancient 'village, and caves, with bushmen paintings, ceremonies, drums, etc..' in the Dombosuawa area of Zim, ask me whether i was thrilled...
After an hour of tossing and lurching through countryside, flat, red soil, bricks are abundant here, we stopped at a sort of parking place, filled with old pick up trucks, a centre for food shopping, people milling around...jumped into the front of a blue pickup, the back jam filled with guys comuting from jobs in Harare, five guys bending into the hood, pushing the old jalopy backwards its driver next to me, trying to get it started, and off we went...
Another hour through dusty red roads, gutted, rutted, rocks, holes, past round concrete huts with thatched roofs, little clusters of these homes, people carrying packages on their heads, women in bright dresses, skirts, even out here in remote rural Africa..groups of schoolkids in uniforms straggling home sharing the roadside with cows, goats, and us..slowly making our way to finally the village, which is a compound of one huge family, called Chitauro which means 'place of communication', the patriarch Dominique who Tawanda had told me about, greeting us, hugely friendly, warm, laughing, lovely...the husband of five wives, father of 36..the 5th wife, 23, with 6 kids, one girl, five boys taking me on a tour to the round kitchens of all the wives, clean, a fire area in the middle, thatched roof, brightly coloured dishes, the sleeping area in the next small hut, clothes hanging abundantly from the ceiling, and on to the spirit house, where i am told the ceremonies are held, we take off our shoes, watch, camera and head inside, concrete floor, again the thatched high pointed ceiling...a raised stage at the front to hold the spirits, three ratan mats, one at the front for Dominique who is the spirit medium, and one on each side, for the women, and men..drums in the corner...a place with energy which felt hugely spiritual..awesome..Tawanda told me the spirits come in the early morning and late evening...resting during the day..there are five houses on the compound where the seven spirits live..a library holding a far better selection of books than most (in Harare the books range from Christian religious to self help)..a place where guests can stay, all very primitive...met everyone, the wives, many kids, a grandson with the same name Tawanda who makes mbiras which are small hand help musical instruments with prong like metal pieces which you fling with your thumb and first finger hard, making fabulous music...
we have been invited back next Friday night after my workshop...
there will be a ceremony late that night in the spirit house..
i will sleep there on the floor to cleanse myself, in the early morning there will be a ceremony to receive the spirits of my ancestors...
To be continued, that story, in a week from now..
and on to the caves...
massive high slabs of rock covered in green and turquoise liechen...we climb up and up following the arrows...it is almost sunset, the wind blowing softly, a warm almost evening...we climb, i am breathless, with the vista of miles of rock and hills and mountains...huge rocks set upon each other...i have forgotten the name for this, but God made...heavenly sent, this was a space in time..no one there but the two of us and the spirits of rock, sky and ancient times. what more to say.
we couldnt' find the caves.
we are coming back next weekend..on Sunday after the ceremonies...dying to see the drawings inside, by bushmen, maybe 1500 years ago...
A day of legends, stories, philosophies, ideas, politics..
Made a decision on the way home..I am canceling my weekend trip to Victoria Falls..the money not spent will go to the twins..I wrote about. Have seen pics of the falls, have been to Niagara a million times..this one is for me..
thanks for listening, hugs and have a great weekend...xL
.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Good morning, Zimbabwe, just like good morning America, the movie.. remember..somewhat boyed by the US election results, it is all over the papers here, cnn...such an anti-US bias everywhere you go, to whomever you speak...the general consent around Saddam is the US hypocrasy, having backed him in all his past genocides which now send him to the hanging galley...enough about politics, something you speak quietly here about...enough, it is a gorgeous morning, the purple blossoms have almost fallen on red soil mixed with pieces of straw to keep the dust down, changing now into stunning deep red coral blossomed trees bursting out all over Harare, their branches canopied over wide paved roads..while I am here, they drive on the "other" side of the road and fast..the problem for me is crossing, i am always looking to the left, when the cars come full tilt upon you from the right...
Meeting with artists again today travelling by car which is a treat to some town 30 ks from here..ancient old, i am told with cave carvings, will report later.. Tuesday was magic. five of us, travelling in and out of Harare central to a stone cutter factory, where Bernard my newest best friend has friends there...beautiful work, but no where to sell it, and no one to sell it to. There are no tourists here, none. \No commerce, no economy, little passing of money...there is a black market which keeps thing thriving, everyone seems to use it. there are differences of opinion varying widely about government, people do talk, argue, exciting for me. At a place called Hatfield, we walked for about a mile to a reknown sculpture's home and studio. His work was haunting, amazing. of mythical animals/man huge, made of wood and metal, found materials...he sells in the states and \israel...tried to check out his website but couldn't get through \: www.chenjeraimutasa@yahoo.com
\maybe you can get it...very interesting..
|I am told they are shutting me off now in a minutes, so goodbye, have a great day..will write soon...couldn't get through to sympatico so this works...i wonder sometimes, is anybody out there reading it! weird!! \L
Meeting with artists again today travelling by car which is a treat to some town 30 ks from here..ancient old, i am told with cave carvings, will report later.. Tuesday was magic. five of us, travelling in and out of Harare central to a stone cutter factory, where Bernard my newest best friend has friends there...beautiful work, but no where to sell it, and no one to sell it to. There are no tourists here, none. \No commerce, no economy, little passing of money...there is a black market which keeps thing thriving, everyone seems to use it. there are differences of opinion varying widely about government, people do talk, argue, exciting for me. At a place called Hatfield, we walked for about a mile to a reknown sculpture's home and studio. His work was haunting, amazing. of mythical animals/man huge, made of wood and metal, found materials...he sells in the states and \israel...tried to check out his website but couldn't get through \: www.chenjeraimutasa@yahoo.com
\maybe you can get it...very interesting..
|I am told they are shutting me off now in a minutes, so goodbye, have a great day..will write soon...couldn't get through to sympatico so this works...i wonder sometimes, is anybody out there reading it! weird!! \L
Hearing about it is one thing. I had to see it with my own eyes before I could fully comprehend the horror bleeding the underbelly of Zimbabwe. It took twins. Twins.
Not the morning talking with women living with aids - Mercy on a cocktail of anti viral drugs, kids 5 and 13, went public, husband took off, headaches, blindness, menengitis, but she's working it through- feeling much better..with luck,on her way. Margaret recently diagnosed; husband won't test. She's philosophical, one in three get it - at least one in every family. Part of life. She will try the anti viral drug, but not yet, not till after rainy season, maybe, December, January...She waved us away, smiling a bit too brightly, it happens she says, it just happens.
Me,a bit hungry, tired, dragging our heels through dusty red streets, shanties of corregated metal, wood, plaster on either side, plants we call tropical, pinks, yellows,flowers pushing up here and there through rugged concrete,kids playing along the way, looking, watching, some shouting hello or shying away from the white lady ..peering warily from behind their mother's skirts. A bit scared.
Twins. I was told about them last week, a boy and a girl, about a year and a half old, but wanted to see for myself. A small garden, a thin man wan, tired, greeting us with one arm, the other hanging limp by its side, his right leg paralysed from a stroke a couple of years ago. The dad watching over two babies sitting on a rug a few feet away. Huge brown eyes. Black hair. Cute, gorgeous. They sit and stare, a pot of gruel between them, black flies circling, landing on their face, hands, arms. They don't swat them away. They don't cry. The babies only sit still. Watching. Big black eyes watching.
I stoop down, say hello, hi...a big smile..they don't move...their tiny thin bodies covered with flies. They just look out. They dont react. I play peek a boo. Nothing..
Nothing.
The mom died a few months ago; the grannie too old, too tired, too poor - they were just moved in from the rural area a few weeks ago. They haven't had doctor's care, shots or milk for months. Yhey eat gruel.
Someone picks one up. She doesn't move; she slumps against a chest, listless. She stares out. Weak, undernourished, wane, whatever words I dredge up, these children can't stand, can't crawl, can't pull themselves up. No energy. Old, tired, done.
I have seen it with my eyes. Children, victims, witnesses of a world gone very wrong.
I have twins at home. At 5 months, they are the same size as these babies.
The woman who brought me there said anything could help, anything. Inside their tiny house, two couches facing each other, a chair at the end, a coffee table, set into a room the size of a bathroom, the dad's brother, out of work, holding the girl, his wife holding the boy, across from me as I open the zipper of my bag. $4,000 each baby for milk for a week, that's about $4. Can...$8 for two...I start counting out my hundreds, thousands, bundles wrapped in elastics, wads of paper money, worthless in our economy yet to this family, worth everything..I release a big chunk of it, almost all I have - it looks impressive. I hand it over. She starts to count. 500, a thousand, 500, another thousand. $13,500 it comes to. $13.50. They are smiling, every bit helps. The family begins to clap,the aunt and uncle, their own older twins, the brother of the little ones, my friends, all of them looking at me, thanking me, clapping. I am mortified. I am sickened by this. I am buying paint, paper, sponges to enthuse, inspire, empower...But milk. Calcium. The white stuff. That's what's needed.
And there is never enough. Ever. Nothing is not enough, nothing will only get them a month, maybe too. And then what. Then what.
What are the answers. I don't know.
I can't wait to get out of there. I'm up and out of that little room.
I just spent $2.60 Can. on this blog.
And I don't even know their names.
Not the morning talking with women living with aids - Mercy on a cocktail of anti viral drugs, kids 5 and 13, went public, husband took off, headaches, blindness, menengitis, but she's working it through- feeling much better..with luck,on her way. Margaret recently diagnosed; husband won't test. She's philosophical, one in three get it - at least one in every family. Part of life. She will try the anti viral drug, but not yet, not till after rainy season, maybe, December, January...She waved us away, smiling a bit too brightly, it happens she says, it just happens.
Me,a bit hungry, tired, dragging our heels through dusty red streets, shanties of corregated metal, wood, plaster on either side, plants we call tropical, pinks, yellows,flowers pushing up here and there through rugged concrete,kids playing along the way, looking, watching, some shouting hello or shying away from the white lady ..peering warily from behind their mother's skirts. A bit scared.
Twins. I was told about them last week, a boy and a girl, about a year and a half old, but wanted to see for myself. A small garden, a thin man wan, tired, greeting us with one arm, the other hanging limp by its side, his right leg paralysed from a stroke a couple of years ago. The dad watching over two babies sitting on a rug a few feet away. Huge brown eyes. Black hair. Cute, gorgeous. They sit and stare, a pot of gruel between them, black flies circling, landing on their face, hands, arms. They don't swat them away. They don't cry. The babies only sit still. Watching. Big black eyes watching.
I stoop down, say hello, hi...a big smile..they don't move...their tiny thin bodies covered with flies. They just look out. They dont react. I play peek a boo. Nothing..
Nothing.
The mom died a few months ago; the grannie too old, too tired, too poor - they were just moved in from the rural area a few weeks ago. They haven't had doctor's care, shots or milk for months. Yhey eat gruel.
Someone picks one up. She doesn't move; she slumps against a chest, listless. She stares out. Weak, undernourished, wane, whatever words I dredge up, these children can't stand, can't crawl, can't pull themselves up. No energy. Old, tired, done.
I have seen it with my eyes. Children, victims, witnesses of a world gone very wrong.
I have twins at home. At 5 months, they are the same size as these babies.
The woman who brought me there said anything could help, anything. Inside their tiny house, two couches facing each other, a chair at the end, a coffee table, set into a room the size of a bathroom, the dad's brother, out of work, holding the girl, his wife holding the boy, across from me as I open the zipper of my bag. $4,000 each baby for milk for a week, that's about $4. Can...$8 for two...I start counting out my hundreds, thousands, bundles wrapped in elastics, wads of paper money, worthless in our economy yet to this family, worth everything..I release a big chunk of it, almost all I have - it looks impressive. I hand it over. She starts to count. 500, a thousand, 500, another thousand. $13,500 it comes to. $13.50. They are smiling, every bit helps. The family begins to clap,the aunt and uncle, their own older twins, the brother of the little ones, my friends, all of them looking at me, thanking me, clapping. I am mortified. I am sickened by this. I am buying paint, paper, sponges to enthuse, inspire, empower...But milk. Calcium. The white stuff. That's what's needed.
And there is never enough. Ever. Nothing is not enough, nothing will only get them a month, maybe too. And then what. Then what.
What are the answers. I don't know.
I can't wait to get out of there. I'm up and out of that little room.
I just spent $2.60 Can. on this blog.
And I don't even know their names.
Monday, November 06, 2006
hi..this will be a quick one..made my way down into the bowels of the \harare bus system terminals, a stretch of 10 blocks square tumbling with vans, buses, cars, cargo, everything and anything that will or could or might carry people, us...while \i am on that subject you climb in praying that there will be a seat at the back, the van, with six rows of benches, each carrying four passengers..if you, and i invariable get stuck in a sidebench at the front, are unlucky, you have to get up and jump out quickly with every bus stop when people from the back squeeze themselves out, you are sitting on each other, literally, sqwished..see \i can't even spell this morning, but looking forward to a great day meeting artists, taking buses everywhere, seeing art in people's work spaces..maybe hearing some home grown music practice, don't know..
it's been good..am aclimbatizing myself...meetings re last week's workshop..setting up another one with youth, 12 to 24 \i am told..in a couple of weeks, assist two workshops on AIDS home care next week.
Gerald asked me the other night about \poverty, what is poverty, it came flooding out, obviously the poverty we think about, lived here, without food, without clean water, housing. But also the poverty of the soul, the spirit, an emptiness people experience who lack passion, a drive for life, for living..the silent scream of lives, whether wealthy or poor, lives lived on the surface, scrambling for meaning, lives dead inside..The high cost of dying\; the govt shut down 21 legal funeral parlours this week, they don't mention why, so the cost of preparation and buriel fees shot up to $200. (US)...exploding in a moonlighting business of undertakers undertaking the business for a mere $20 a pop... they charge $19. for a plot during the week; $24 on weekends.
\just got told i have three minutes to go..so best stop, click the publish button before they wipe it out..
have a great day...miss you all...x\l
it's been good..am aclimbatizing myself...meetings re last week's workshop..setting up another one with youth, 12 to 24 \i am told..in a couple of weeks, assist two workshops on AIDS home care next week.
Gerald asked me the other night about \poverty, what is poverty, it came flooding out, obviously the poverty we think about, lived here, without food, without clean water, housing. But also the poverty of the soul, the spirit, an emptiness people experience who lack passion, a drive for life, for living..the silent scream of lives, whether wealthy or poor, lives lived on the surface, scrambling for meaning, lives dead inside..The high cost of dying\; the govt shut down 21 legal funeral parlours this week, they don't mention why, so the cost of preparation and buriel fees shot up to $200. (US)...exploding in a moonlighting business of undertakers undertaking the business for a mere $20 a pop... they charge $19. for a plot during the week; $24 on weekends.
\just got told i have three minutes to go..so best stop, click the publish button before they wipe it out..
have a great day...miss you all...x\l
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Oh my gawd..i have just spent the last hour and a half writing, and for some unknowable nasty twist, the whole thing deleted...I am aghast. it was good too, descriptive, filled with thoughts, emotions, ideas, insights..gone.
OK..a hasty update, hello from Zimbabwe, Saturday afternoon now, 2pm, been sitting here since 10am..thanks to all the emails coming in from across the world..great to hear news from home..election in Creemore, Johnny sending pics of the twins, he running the NY marathon tomorrow, hope i can get it on the internet...
I can't believe i lost all that..
OK the workshop this week. on art, the first one the ICA has given, i am a bit of an experiment it seems..20 participants some walking 2-3 hours to get there, some coming only for the mid morning snack of at least 6 slices of white bread and juice, lunch: chicken and rice...we eat with our right hand, the national dish Pap, or Pup, a combination of a wheat flour and water boiled and stirred..delicious like cous cous....no napkins, few trees, little paper...community centre, open windows blasting in hot air..the sweet sound of a class of 4 year olds next door singing xmas carols..we begin with an introduction, most absolute art beginners, nervous, quiet, sitting silently, then come the infamous spirit cards a la Douglas Walton..later one devout Christian confessed how worried he was when he saw this on my agenda, fearful of evilness coming into the workshop..but these were a huge hit, 25 cards for their children and grandchildren.....each one different, original, made by themselves, they were ecstatic, and we used them to imagine mountains, bushes, trees, creating landscapes: big land, little skies and the opposite for those who know these workshops...great..it was wonderful for me to watch them grow, the empowerment, the concentration, the sense of huge proudness when they discovered I CAN DO IT!! i am an artist..I can't wait to get home to teach this too my kids, my grandkids... I can use this in my batik...so exciting..wonderful. We finished with a REMEMBERING WALL. I've been trying to figure out how I could incorporate the HIV AIDS issues with an art workshop...and this worked poignantly..a celebration of the lives of those they have lost to the disease..we all put names on a banner in many colours sizes...75 in all, framed at the end with 40 brightly coloured completed paintings done throughout the two days....we took pictures of them in front of the Wall..I would love to share this with you in pics but am technically challenged at the moment..later...
I gave everyone a certificate for completing the Creativity ARt Retreat in Dunedin Canada fine arts workshop....I won't forget this..
Later the community coordinator spoke of three babies which has just come to her, orphans..whose mom had just died, a 5 month old, and twins 1 and a half year old, a boy and girl,with no family, no money, no milk...could we make a project for these kids...yes..good for you to know who helped me with donations, where your money is going directly, straight to these kids...thank you...
thoughts, ideas, experiences...last Sunday on a long walk, cluster of religious people drapped in white sitting in the middle of a scruffy weedy field chanting, praying...during the week old people hacking away at the weeds to prepare for corn planting next month when the rains finally come; sanctions, what good are they doing for the people in Zimbabwe who are most effected by them? I wonder.
things are desperate here in the sense of little food, housing, clean water for so many people..yet you don't get a feeling of anger, despair, stress at all..gentle loving giving, quiet people...you see working together, helping each other, a giving, a huge sense of hope, joy, laughter in what they do have.."we are surviving" we are Zimbabwe, we will make it...but to take away the basics, to withhold money, food, agricultural machinery,how can this country grow, how can it work its way out of the spiralling downward they now experience: fuel shortages, there is no gas. we almost didn't make it out to the workshop with the supplies..electrical brownouts, blackouts almost every night without a storm in sight....when you think that the majority of the world's population live without electricity...reading NO MORE OIL by Paul Roberts, excellent book, a must read....
I am basically terrified that this machine will delete again soon..so i am going to call it a day...
am not going back to edit, delete..make more interesting, you get this one the way it was written...fast....(thanks to my servitude at Shaw U. a million lifetimes ago...)
Oh - before I go...wanted to say a word about Madonna and her child adoption, seen with huge suspicion here, the papers are full of it, the people i have talked with, wondering, whispering "why African children" why AFrica...they confide in me, the issue of child abuse coming up...I am shocked...
So go Johnny go...
I'll be thinking of you...
Have a great weekend everyone...
signing off....Lynn
OK..a hasty update, hello from Zimbabwe, Saturday afternoon now, 2pm, been sitting here since 10am..thanks to all the emails coming in from across the world..great to hear news from home..election in Creemore, Johnny sending pics of the twins, he running the NY marathon tomorrow, hope i can get it on the internet...
I can't believe i lost all that..
OK the workshop this week. on art, the first one the ICA has given, i am a bit of an experiment it seems..20 participants some walking 2-3 hours to get there, some coming only for the mid morning snack of at least 6 slices of white bread and juice, lunch: chicken and rice...we eat with our right hand, the national dish Pap, or Pup, a combination of a wheat flour and water boiled and stirred..delicious like cous cous....no napkins, few trees, little paper...community centre, open windows blasting in hot air..the sweet sound of a class of 4 year olds next door singing xmas carols..we begin with an introduction, most absolute art beginners, nervous, quiet, sitting silently, then come the infamous spirit cards a la Douglas Walton..later one devout Christian confessed how worried he was when he saw this on my agenda, fearful of evilness coming into the workshop..but these were a huge hit, 25 cards for their children and grandchildren.....each one different, original, made by themselves, they were ecstatic, and we used them to imagine mountains, bushes, trees, creating landscapes: big land, little skies and the opposite for those who know these workshops...great..it was wonderful for me to watch them grow, the empowerment, the concentration, the sense of huge proudness when they discovered I CAN DO IT!! i am an artist..I can't wait to get home to teach this too my kids, my grandkids... I can use this in my batik...so exciting..wonderful. We finished with a REMEMBERING WALL. I've been trying to figure out how I could incorporate the HIV AIDS issues with an art workshop...and this worked poignantly..a celebration of the lives of those they have lost to the disease..we all put names on a banner in many colours sizes...75 in all, framed at the end with 40 brightly coloured completed paintings done throughout the two days....we took pictures of them in front of the Wall..I would love to share this with you in pics but am technically challenged at the moment..later...
I gave everyone a certificate for completing the Creativity ARt Retreat in Dunedin Canada fine arts workshop....I won't forget this..
Later the community coordinator spoke of three babies which has just come to her, orphans..whose mom had just died, a 5 month old, and twins 1 and a half year old, a boy and girl,with no family, no money, no milk...could we make a project for these kids...yes..good for you to know who helped me with donations, where your money is going directly, straight to these kids...thank you...
thoughts, ideas, experiences...last Sunday on a long walk, cluster of religious people drapped in white sitting in the middle of a scruffy weedy field chanting, praying...during the week old people hacking away at the weeds to prepare for corn planting next month when the rains finally come; sanctions, what good are they doing for the people in Zimbabwe who are most effected by them? I wonder.
things are desperate here in the sense of little food, housing, clean water for so many people..yet you don't get a feeling of anger, despair, stress at all..gentle loving giving, quiet people...you see working together, helping each other, a giving, a huge sense of hope, joy, laughter in what they do have.."we are surviving" we are Zimbabwe, we will make it...but to take away the basics, to withhold money, food, agricultural machinery,how can this country grow, how can it work its way out of the spiralling downward they now experience: fuel shortages, there is no gas. we almost didn't make it out to the workshop with the supplies..electrical brownouts, blackouts almost every night without a storm in sight....when you think that the majority of the world's population live without electricity...reading NO MORE OIL by Paul Roberts, excellent book, a must read....
I am basically terrified that this machine will delete again soon..so i am going to call it a day...
am not going back to edit, delete..make more interesting, you get this one the way it was written...fast....(thanks to my servitude at Shaw U. a million lifetimes ago...)
Oh - before I go...wanted to say a word about Madonna and her child adoption, seen with huge suspicion here, the papers are full of it, the people i have talked with, wondering, whispering "why African children" why AFrica...they confide in me, the issue of child abuse coming up...I am shocked...
So go Johnny go...
I'll be thinking of you...
Have a great weekend everyone...
signing off....Lynn
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