Zimbabwe: Where the Sky Greets You at Your Feet

THE COMMUNICATION GROUP – ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2012

THE COMMUNICATION GROUP

ZIMBABWEWHERE THE SKY GREETS

YOU AT YOUR FEET

It is a wonderful feeling when someone

says ―Oh, you are from Zimbabwe? What

a beautiful country! I was there a little

while ago and…‖ It takes me right back to

the flamboyant trees and dark red mud.

For some slight narcissistic reason, I feel

instantly connected to this person just

because they‘ve also had an experience

with ―my‖ country.

Zimbabwe is an interesting place.

It‘s roughly the same size as Montana –

so it isn‘t tiny – but it also isn‘t massive.

What is fascinating is how it is has so

many different faces: forests and

mountains; lakes and deserts; skyscrapers

and mud huts. I‘ve traveled quite a bit

and I haven‘t found a place this size, with

so much diversity, apart from Cape Town.





With only +/- 12 million people theretoday,

Zimbabwe also isn‘t denselypopulated,

although when I was a child,there was no

more than 9 million. It wasonly 1% white, so I

really was a minority ifwe base that on

color. Today, I live inAmerica and even

though I‘m now consideredin the ‗majority,‘

it still feels out of place.

The minute I cross Valencia street in San

Francisco, or Mott and Prince St in New

York, Ifeel more comfortable immediately. I

find awarmth in color and cultures.

Zimbabwe was once called the

―Switzerland‖ ofAfrica, a veritable ―jewel.‖

However, the countryhas had dreadful

problems over the past twentyyears,

and particularly over the last twelve.

Inflation has been one of the worst the world

over and nationally morals have plummeted.

My first visit after ten years was this past December, we landed in Victoria Falls on Christmas Day, (and what a present that was!) Rushes of familiarity and excitement took over as we flew over the country nosing our way down to a dinky landing strip. I was suddenly a child again… mesmerized. The sky greeted us at our feet and we walked into a rather small, chaotic airport where someone was attempting to make us stay in lines of no discernible order. The passport controller‘s pen ran out of ink and the other controller‘s stamp utterly broke. We all waited…Happily. Peacefully. We were back on Zimbabwean time.

Even after flying for 19 hours, I didn‘t mind waiting nearly as much as I thought I would. Here I was, used to New York time (which is an oxymoron as there is no time in New York) but… I didn‘t mind.

I stared outside hungrily as the hotel car

droveus to the lodge. The trees… Oh the

trees! Amazing acacias, arms out wide

offeringshade to street market sellers and

the odd wildwarthog or sheep. Ironically,

the roads stilllooked in perfect shape —

strips of tarmacrunning perfectly across the

country side — nolitter to be seen. I was

happily shocked.

As a child my very best friend in the world

wasmy bicycle. I had it stripped down

completelyso I couldn‘t hear a clank of

mudguard or chairor bell – it was literally a

chrome frame on wellpumped up worn

tires. I would fly over strips ofburnt colored

mud… hard as concrete. Throughditches

and up rocks. My bicycle took me to

stables and compounds where smells of

familyand nature contentedly mingled.



Dogs barkedat a lost cow who was wandering throughsomeones massive garden.

Latest models of cars drove together with ancient relics of vehicles. Old and new. City and Country. Sky and Earth. Even then I knew how lucky I was to be brought up in a space which allowed for such freedom and primal awareness.

Anyway… this isn‘t about me… it‘s about Zimbabwe. I wish for it to be all it deserves to be: a land of natural opportunity; a land of laughter and generosity; a land willing to share all it has to people who wish to learn and grow. Please consider visiting it or learning more. It needs attention. It needs gratitude. It needs you.

Thank you Zimbabwe for all you‘ve given me.

-Be well. Tatenda

-c

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Zimbabwe: Where the Sky Greets You at Your Feet