GOODBYES

We are once again alone in the house as my friend has moved back to her home. I was sure that she would be marked by her experiences of living with us and had a little chuckle when she wrote the other day to confirm my suspicions. To give a bit of back ground..

Americo and I have lived in our home for just over a year and, in that time, we have basically … moved in. I have only recently put photo’s in picture frames, being somewhat decorationally challenged, amongst other things!

For the first year we had not one curtain - until my mother came to the rescue providing cover for all our downstairs window requirements. The rooms on the second floor however are still open to the neighbours, should they have an interest to peek. It is in one of these rooms that my friend has been living for the last few months.

In case you haven’t already guessed a curtainless room does not a sanctuary provide! There is no chance of wandering about naked, well .. not unless you are VERY still, in the crouch position, behind the bed, in one corner. Basically, much more effort than reward! So she devised a routine whereby she would take all her clothes to the bathroom, shower and then get changed in the corridor (spare bathroom is V.small) – safe from any neighbourly curiosity.

Anyhow, she has now moved back to her home and e-mailed me the other day saying..

“Had my shower this morning, grabbed my clothes and headed into the hallway to get dressed……. Then realised……. I HAVE CURTAINS!”

Hehehe

I am waiting to hear what other lasting effects living with us will have had!

THE CRAZY..

What do you do when you feel the blue haze of panic rising up to meet you with arms stretched wide, ready to drag you into the void? Hmm, what do you do, indeed!

Over the last few weeks things in Zim have been progressively unravelling – the Unity Government is not looking quite as united as it could be, farm invasions have recommenced and bodies are turning up.. having perished from slightly more than natural causes…. With all this resumed activity I have to admit to being somewhat anxious about my parents well being. Which brings us to why I was teetering on the edge of the void..

I haven’t spoken to my folks for a few weeks (no major panic there as my sister chatted to them last week) but I thought I would check in on Monday.. Tuesday.. Wednesday – by now I was desperately dialling.. nothing, nothing, nothing. No ringing, no dial tone just a disembowelled voice advising that the ‘line is unavailable at the moment’. At this stage I am almost obsessively calling; mom, dad, dad, mom - over and over, just on the off chance that I might get through, frustratingly, still nothing.

I could feel my grip on reason slipping and panic blooming in its place, time to control The Crazy! Unfortunately once the door to Crazy has been opened it is considerably harder to shut. It feels as though you have been torn in two, with your neurotic self throwing up awful questions, whilst your saner, lucid self sits back unsure how best to proceed.

So Mom & Dad, feel free to call your youngest, most recently married daughter - as she is only just in control of The Crazy!! – love you xx.

WHAT A DAY

I have been struggling to get out of bed the last few days, when the alarm goes off the room is still murky with a slight nip in the air, whilst my bed is toasty warm with Americo in it.

Yesterday my alarm buzzed into action and I pressed snooze, once, twice… after that I must have lost consciousness. When I resurfaced, I woke with a feeling of contentment, safe and happy and - WHAT - five minutes before I had to leave the house!

I leapt out of bed, raced to the bathroom, frantically brushing my teeth whilst scouring the cupboard for something to wear. Obviously not something in need of an iron.

Americo meanwhile briefly raised his head to see what all the fuss was about, before pulling the duvet more securely under his chin and mumbling “mm, late too”. Clearly not!

I (just) managed to get my self dressed, dashing out the house in record time, with a vague resemblance to Cruella DeVille - minus the fur.

LATE! But not late enough not to grab a mocha chilla (my new addiction) from the coffee shop.

By now I was seriously late; rushing to the office whilst attempting to juggle my mocha chilla, umbrella and handbag – when my phone rang. It was an employment friend of mine who I wanted to ask a favour of, so I couldn’t exactly rush things.

Eventually I made it into the office only to see that everyone was in the boardroom. Bollocks! Forgot all about the 9 o’clock meeting. Who in their right mind books a meeting for 9am?? Clearly ridiculous morning people! Or the Australian…..

After all the excitement of the morning my day settled into an impression of normality. I say impression as things are not really normal – for instance, I don’t usually have my resume floating about the ether in the hopes of snagging some fabulous job … elsewhere. Anyhow, we do what we need to do, hmm?

By the time 5.30pm rolled by the day had disintegrated, weather wise, with pouring rain and huge puddles. St Pauls, the tube station, was flooded with people, everyone being a little more cautious as umbrellas dripped, creating a slick mess on the floor.

To say I was thankful to be going home would be an understatement. I was thrilled to be almost home; moments from the door I was already creating a list of priorities - out of the rain, out of sopping trousers, into nice hot bath ……….. cigarette.

Propping my umbrella up against the wall I scratched about in my bag for the keys. Hmm? More scrabbling – nothing.

In desperation I emptied the bag onto the front step then sat down next to the upended contents, rolled a cigarette and thought “sod it; I’ve left my keys in the house!”

ET .. CALL HOME

On Saturday night I dreamt my dad had Alzheimer’s and he could only remember the part of his life prior to my birth. I frantically begged him not to forget me for how could I live knowing that my dad had no knowledge of me? I woke up distressed with tears rolling down my cheeks and a desperate desire to call home.

I have mentioned before the problems with communication to Zimbabwe .. mostly that there is no communication with Zimbabwe. All day Sunday I tried to call home and was amazed that I was getting the ringing tone, first time on each call – unfortunately no one was answering. (This always gets me a bit edgy as law & order is not a top priority).

This morning I got into the office and there was an e-mail from my mom. Dad has malaria and has been unwell all weekend but is doing much better today.

Sometimes you just know to call home.

Thinking of you dad - xxx

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS...

I have been inspired! Whilst perusing my way through cyberspace, I popped into one of my regular blog sites – not the marrying kind. Marty, the writer, focuses her blog on wedding ideas that are homemade and creative, obviously my wedding planning has long since been and gone, HOWEVER I came across this wonderful idea. [Don’t be surprised when you all get potted gumboots (wellies) for Christmas!] When I read Marty’s blog I imagine her home to be a hive of creativity, filled to the brim with innovative and bright designs.

This got me thinking (always a bad thing) and I realised that our home is not very homely. We have the most amazing wedding pictures, but nothing on the walls, we have lovely photo frames but they still have the original ‘Kodac Family’ in them. Our home, in essence, is transient; it is ready to be packed up and shipped out with minimal effort and fuss – the realisation of which has come as quite a shock.

Don’t get me wrong, I love our home it is just not the focus of my life. There always seem to be something more important that needs attention – friends, family, finances .. LIFE! Subconsciously, I think I have been avoiding creating a homely home here in the UK. It feels as though by hanging that picture I am making a commitment to permanence. I am accepting that we will never return to Zimbabwe.

I know – it is completely illogical and unreasonable! Luckily Americo never expects me to be either logical or reasonable, in fact I believe that life would be rather disappointing if I was..

Anyhow, now that we are discussing family .. Calm down parents – it is only a DISCUSSION! I am beginning to undergo a change of heart. That picture frame does not represent eternalness, what goes up can still be taken down. In the end, my biggest realisation is this… My home is where Americo is. Everything else is just stuff, pretty but unimportant.
Still .. curtains would be nice!!

GRUBBY HANDS

Yes – I was gardening this weekend. Although whoever says that this is a therapeutic past-time is lying through their teeth! There in nothing enjoyable about scrabbling about in the dirt with all kinds of creepy crawlies lurking in the shadows. It was a ridiculous idea and would you believe that I actually initiated proceedings? No? Nor can I.

It all started like this..

As I mentioned Americo has been harassing me about leaving a weekend free to do all kinds of energetic household things. Obviously with this kind of incentive I have attempted to keep us thoroughly occupied doing other, more pleasant activities! Anyhow I eventually acquiesced suggesting that we utilise the glorious weather we had over the weekend to clean the decking and generally get up to date with our outside chores.

Saturday dawned and with it a certain regret to being so compliant! Anyway off we went to Costco to buy a power hose in order to beat our decking into submission. Oh my living! What a day. I was already over it half way through watching Americo try to connect the pipes to the contraption. However, being the delightful wife that I am .. I put my book down, changed into my bikini and scrubbed and sweated alongside my husband. I did not even complain (MUCH) when he stood behind me criticising my deck cleaning technique. Finally, after hours of busyness the decking was clean (not so Americo and I!) and we sat back, cigarette in hand surveying our hard work.

Sunday, yet another spectacular day, we sat eyeing out the horrid apple tree that grows in our neighbour’s yard. It may grow in their yard but due to sunlight issues actually spreads its branches all over our patch dropping bitter, hard green apples, creating a bit of an obstacle course. So having discussed with them (the neighbour) we hacked down the offending limbs, now ruining or cleaning efforts, and spent Sunday chopping up the branches for disposal. Americo, now well in the mood then suggested we tackle the front garden.

Here is where it all goes horribly wrong! Our front postage stamp is prolific with weeds, one has actually grown so huge it has raised it’s head above the windowsill and has been enjoying all kinds of night-time viewing with us. Clearly this had to be sorted but with my contempt of dirty hands I ask you.. was I really the person for the job? All is well that ends well though as our garden now looks lovely with all the weeds having been ruthlessly yanked out of their earthen home.

To end here is a funny little something that I got in an e-mail – had me chuckling for ages!!

BOYS BEHAVING BADLY

I know, I know, I have been slack the last couple of weeks with my posting. As they say the road to hell is paved in good intentions and none have been better than mine!
This last weekend was crazy, as previously predicted. The bachelor’s went off with a bang, many a hangover and more successfully achieved. My husband came rolling in at 5am a veritable paragon of society compared to the other drunkards! I know this as I was the welcoming party for the early arrivals (we had 7 or so people staying with us after the bash) who came in requesting necessities such as water, buckets and headache pills…. I am sure by now you can see the theme this post will be taking so read on.

As beds and bedding were limited I had enough sleeping accommodation for an extra 6 people with an additional mattress etc to be provided by the main organiser. Unfortunately in the rush to set off for the evening’s entertainment the extra inflatable mattress was not unloaded the from the car and so we were one bed short. Normally this would not be a problem but things being as they were the couch had already been taken over.

Anyhow, I woke up to the not so quiet debate between Mr X and Americo on whether he could sleep on the floor at the end of our bed. After much discussion (basically Americo gave up arguing) Mr X was provided with pillows from the sofa and our TV rug whereupon he curled up on the floor and drifted into a drunken slumber. Unfortunately Americo and I were not so lucky…

It started with a gentle hum, within five minutes however the snoring had escalated, reverberating about the room and eliminating any chance of sleep. Something had to be done! Americo tried prodding our inebriated friend, calling his name, banging on the bed, all to no avail. Eventually I wrapped the pillow about my head and attempted to get some sleep, you have to understand that although this muted the sound it still fell woefully short of the requirement levels! I cannot explain the racket, something akin to sleeping in a timber mill - under the saw! At one stage I seriously contemplated setting up my hammock on the balcony, finally vetoing the idea once I had reviewed effort against time.

Now you would think that all ends here – guess what, it doesn’t! No bachelor’s is complete without the obligatory hurling episode and ours was no different. When I could remain in bed no longer I ventured into our en suite bathroom, only to stop at the threshold. I won’t give the full graphics as I am sure you can include your own imagery but suffice to say, I made it no further. The downstairs bathroom had fared only slightly better in that the culprit had made it to the toilet. However, all is well that ends well with thanks to Mr X who gave our bathroom floor a thorough cleaning!

Our friend Peter is very happy to have had the bucket of shame title taken from him and handed down to the very deserving brothers grim who have christened the toilets in our new home. They in return were suitably ashamed to have received such particular honour.

ANOTHER DAY..

.... Another irritation! Last week (Friday) as I sat at my desk a pungent aroma assaulted my nostrils. Perhaps pungent is a slight exaggeration however it was a smell more commonly associated with bathrooms than boardrooms. I glanced up hoping to find the guilty party looking suitably bashful. No such luck. Anyhow, it happened again on Friday afternoon.

Then yesterday, this odour once more came to my attention. I am sorry, but is there really any need to alleviate gas in the vicinity of your colleagues.. I thought not. I have my suspicions as to who the offender may be, namely the dodgy Australian who sits across from me burping (and presumably farting) his way through the day.

Today was one burp to many from ‘the all burping and farting one’, with me requesting that either he get house trained or move elsewhere! Hopefully the public shaming will end this all to comfortable behaviour!

This weekend was fairly quiet for Americo and I – lulling us into a false sense of security as the coming weekend is going to be manic in the extreme. On Saturday Americo woke up trying to con me into making him coffee. As I drink neither coffee nor tea his chances are always slim to begin with. Anyhow his attempt is well worth a mention…

As I woke up before Americo I quietly got out of bed and went to hit the shower, however the minute he felt me shift one beady little eye popped open and he said,

“Zanna, last night I had a dream”. As Americo very seldom remembers these I was interested. “What was it about?”
“Well, I dreamt that God spoke to me” he continued to explain. “God told me that you are going to make me a cup of coffee!” I turn and look at Americo, who is grinning back at me like the proverbial cat that got the cream.
“Indeed?” I reply - “Did God happen to mention that your cup of coffee will only be making an appearance once I have had a shower?”
Somewhat crestfallen he looks at me
“He guessed you would say something like that!”

IT'S PINK!

The other night Americo did a load of washing. As a red pair of fisherman trousers we got in Thailand would be included I reiterated that no whites, whatsoever, should be involved… You can see the impending doom.. I transferred everything from washer to tumble dryer and guess what I found? Americo’s once very manly football socks were now a lovely shade of salmon, along with his ankle guard and some other choice items. I have to admit to a little chuckle of amusement seeing my husband rushing about trying to get his gear together with pink ankle guard on one foot and a jaundiced expression directed at the socks.

I have not always been the ‘demi-domestic goddess’ you see before you. In fact when I came to the UK my kitchen skills consisted of nuking a potato in the microwave and not much more. I remember one boyfriend’s mother saying ‘She is lovely darling.. but I don’t think she can cook!’

My second home in London was a houseshare on Fladgate Road. I was living with a group of friends from Zimbabwe along with my brother and his wife. Being so far from home we were more a family unit than a typical shared house. Everyone had a duties partner and each ‘couple’ had their chance of cooking a proper meal once a week. However, as I could not cook my partner would only allow me to watch and clean. The one day, seeing me wielding a knife, he removed the danger from my hands and asked me to please sit out of harms way.

To return the kindness I offered to iron his shirt whilst he cooked dinner. All I can say is it seemed like a good idea at the time. It started off so well, that is until about half way through when the iron got a little sticky and I lifted it to find a newly inserted hole. After this episode not only was I banned from the kitchen but my washing duties were limited to putting the washing machine on where upon magical little Fairies would descend, transfer them to the tumble dryer and onwards to my bedroom all neatly folded! Oh how I miss those days!!

This weekend is a busy one for us, we have my cousin’s 40th birthday party which is themed fancy dress. Americo has been inspired, suggesting he will be going as .. himself! Hmmmm. I on the other hand intend to make just a little bit more of an effort within what we have at home. Do you think I could put my wedding dress back on and go as Julia Roberts in The Run Away Bride? No? I didn’t really think so either. Undoubtedly something will spring to mind between now and tomorrow.

Sunday we are walking with friends round Henley on Thames with a little picnic at some halfway point – lets hope the weather stays as beautiful as it is today. Finally, as Monday is a bank holiday, we are off to the park for volley ball. After much beating of chests last weekend we have a tournament of some description going ahead. My money is on Americo and Bob, mostly because the are brutal and hate to loose!

Tuesday is my op so I will probably be out of commission and off the blog until the following Monday.. Until then!

MEN

Not often is Americo out of favour with me but on Friday night I lost all humour.

It started like this, Americo called at about 7 to say that he would be home a little late as he was ‘getting a quick pint in with the boys’. Not a problem. 10 pm came and went and at about 12 he wonders through the door………… with a work colleague. I have to admit that I was feeling vaguely irritated that he was home so late, mostly because we were getting a take out and I had agreed to wait.

My slight irritation accelerated to major when he walked in with his friend. Not because his friend was unwelcome but because the house looked like a hurricane had gone through with devastating effects. Add to that, the fact I looked the epitome of a frumpy housewife dressed in Americo’s tracksuit pants and scrubby old jumper - with my hair perched dubiously at the top of my head. All that was missing was a face mask and teddy bear slippers!

In typical male fashion Americo could not understand the issue? I guess the up side of this is that any future dealings with his work colleagues can only be an improvement on the first. Hopefully.

On Saturday I got my hair cut. I love it and as such was very excited to show Americo. When I got home, after a marathon 3 hours at the salon, Americo was upstairs in the bath. I wondered through to say hi and almost gave him a heart attack as he didn’t immediately recognise me! I have since been assured that he REALLY does like my new blonder self.

SOMEONE AT THE DOOR

On Friday night, as I sat at home awaiting the appearance of my husband, there was a knock at the door. Americo hates me opening the door to strangers when I am home alone, so I dutifully looked through the spy-hole and saw a little old lady upon the step. What a conundrum, to open the door or not? Courtesy won the day and I enquired as to if I could be of any assistance. Turns out that she did require some assistance, but not for something I was prepared to give!

Once I had opened the door she asked where the previous owners had gone, did I have a forwarding address etc, etc. I answered as best I could that they had moved on and unfortunately I did not know where too. She then proceeded to say how lucky we were with our house as they, the previous owners, had done a spectacular job of doing it up. I agreed, wondering where this was all leading too, I soon discovered…

“So,” said my unexpected visitor. “How many people live here, just you by yourself?”
“No, my husband as well.” I responded.
“When the previous owners were here I toured round the whole house, I always used to come round for tea.”
“mmmm” I responded noncommittally.
“Nice big house, two bathrooms, the top bedroom is very nice. The one with the en-suite.”
“Yes it is I agreed” wondering when it would be polite to withdraw
“Well, my daughter is getting married in a few weeks and I was wondering if she could move in here?”

Words fail me! I graciously declined her request for family to move in with us.. twice, when asked if I was ‘absolutely certain’ and beat a hasty retreat once the suggestion of dinner came up.

After disentangling myself, I called Americo to give him the latest update from the home front. He, unsurprisingly was flabbergasted saying ‘I’ve told you not to answer the door to anyone!’

So, what is the moral of my story? In future I shall pay attention to my husbands wishes .. at least in this case and ignore anyone who knocks on the door without a gilt edged invitation!!

SPRING

At last Spring has Sprung! Sunday was our first day, this year, to sit outside in the sunshine and have breakfast. As Americo sat there eating a hearty meal he was blissfully unaware of my mind taking in the garden. Or what will shortly be a garden…

I have grand designs for our little patch of earth and am eager to put my husband to work. Unfortunately, with things related to dirt, I have a slight phobia … I hate my hands getting dirty.

This poses a slight problem, as how can you garden without getting in amongst the muck? Gloves! I hear you say .. but you would be incorrect, I have learned from experience that once my gloves get dirty I still need to start in and wash my hands and so the cycle goes on.

Luckily all is not lost, as I chose the most understanding of men who fully appreciates my dilemma, and does not mind one bit that I shall be directing operations from a safe distance…. Preferably with a PIMMS in hand! Perhaps a little bit of wishful thinking on my part!

AUSTRALIA

This weekend we had friends round for dinner. There were 7 of us in total and one baby addition. I love nights like this, good food, good friends and good drink! Not that I am a major drinker, but I must admit that when you are sitting round the table, solving all the worlds problems, there is nothing better than a good scotch on the rocks. Saturday night was extra special as we were introduced to J & J’s little daughter, who is very new to the world at a month old. She behaved wonderfully and to be honest by the end of the evening I was feeling that little tug towards motherhood. Not so Americo!

Americo comes from a family of all boys, his experience of babies is nil to non existent. In fact I remember when we were dating in Zimbabwe and his sister in law brought round his newborn nephew for a family introduction. Americo peered into the pram, lifted some blankets, looked blankly at L and said “where is it?”. Some people love babies, some people don’t, Americo on the other hand just has no idea what to do with something so small!

As I have mentioned before we (I think mostly me) were looking at applying for our visa to Australia. Mentally I have already relocated, planned where we are going to live and envisioned everything. I cannot see us settling here, in the UK and at the rate Zimbabwe is floundering I cannot see us settling there either. This leaves us in a very tricky predicament. Luckily when I chose my husband, I selected best of the man brand. Americo and I are very good at different things, I tend to rush ahead with mad-hatter schemes, looking into this and that, whilst Americo ponders the options set before him, then tackles them in an irritatingly logical way - thank goodness I married him as I am not sure anyone else would stand so strong against the force of my will!

Americo is a natural pessimist whilst I am an eternal optimist and the one trait we both share in abundance is our tenacious belief that we are correct… However, after long discussions I learn to temper my enthusiasm and he takes on some of my excitement. So what about Australia? Well my friends we have decided to delay. Our decision will be made once we have returned from our holiday to Aus in December. This is a revoltingly sensible and depressingly logical decision but will, I am sure, eventually lead to the best outcome.

Meanwhile time marches on, we only have a month before we are off to South Africa and our diaries are fully booked until then.

Homesick

Tonight I am feeling incredibly homesick. Who would have thought that after being away for so long I can still feel it so intensely?

When Americo and I got married his company very kindly gave us a digital photo frame. Until this weekend we had not so much as taken it out of it's box. I am not sure what inspired him, but on Saturday afternoon Americo sat and downloaded photos onto it. Below is the reason for my melancholy mood!

Sunset over Lake Kariba

Dawn on Kariba















HOME!















Leopard Rock - Vumba

HOME ALONE

This weekend Americo went for the bachelor part of the hen I went to last weekend.

As they were flying to Belfast I was woken up at the crack of dawn to drive him to the station. It was a proud moment for my dear husband as I stumbled out of the house in my pyjamas at 6:45 on Saturday morn.

When I returned home P, who spent Friday night and Saturday with me, was still safely tucked up in bed. I thought it was very charitable of me to let her sleep in! When Americo woke me I believe I muttered something to the effect of “if you pull P out of bed by her feet I will get out of bed to come and watch”. You see, if I am unpleasant in the morning P is doubly so, thus it would have made waking up worthwhile!

Saturday night I was on my ownsome, lonesome, P having left earlier in the evening. I don’t know what it is about being home alone but you seem to regress. In that moment, when all the lights are off and I am lying in bed, it feels as though every bogey man from my childhood has come back to haunt me. I know it is ridiculous, but still I am scouring the shadows, looking for my make believe axe murderer who has somehow materialised now that all is in darkness. This reminds me of one big bump in the night….

Sometime ago in our old house, Americo and I had just gotten into bed and turned off the lights when there was an almighty crash. Americo leapt out of bed, yanked open a draw and dashed downstairs to confront our would be intruder. When he came back upstairs I asked what he had retrieved from the draw. To my astonishment I found out it was a hulking, great big kitchen knife! Said knife was kept in our room should the need arise for Americo to protect his devoted wife. Anyhow, that weekend we had friends for dinner and I told the story of Americo and the Knife.

As occasionally happens one of our friends ended up staying the night. The next morning, over breakfast, he tells me how he woke up, desperate for a pee but petrified about going to the loo and being accosted by a naked, knife wielding Americo!

MORNING!

Yesterday I was grouchy, as I have mentioned before mornings are not my time of day but yesterday I had an extreme reaction to the alarm clock. Said alarm clock being Americo’s going off at 5:45am! 5.45 in the morning is not a time, it is a death sentence..

When my alarm went off at just after 7 I rolled over to see ‘himself’ slumbering sweetly next to me. This elevated my frustration levels, I don’t mind being woken up for a purpose i.e he gets out of bed and goes to work, but to be woken up just for jollies.

Anyhow I clambered out of bed and, looking down at his sleeping form, flicked on the lights and whipped off the duvet. Aaaah satisfaction! Americo meanwhile did not know what had hit him, looking up at me with questioning eyes I pulled the pillow and said ‘Out!’.

Americo and I have been together for close on 6 years, he knows my wonderful character quirks, he also knows that if he wishes to get up at any hour before me, too………..

JUMP out of bed as though the bats of hell were after his soul!

FINDING HOME

Last night Americo and I sat down to the news and watched the devastation the fires in Australia have caused. There are some amazing stories of heroism and awful tales of loss. Our thoughts go out to the Australians at this time.

Actually our thoughts have been on Australia a lot recently. We are debating the pro’s and con’s of shifting to the other side of the universe. This is a topic that has had much mileage in our household. As much as I love my life here, in London, I really love the sun more!! In an ideal world we would be going home. Sadly though there is now no home to go to. We are of the lost Zimbabwean generation – two of millions that left always expecting to go back, only to find that there is nothing to go back too. And so we must find ourselves a new heritage.

Our search has been extensive, including a little sojourn into Mozambique. It was a fated trip from the beginning…

We had borrowed my sister in law’s car for the journey from Nelspruit to Maputo. The night before we were due to leave the mechanism for the automatic window broke so we sealed it in the ‘up right position’. Off we set in the sweltering December heat with our unopening driver’s side window for the border of South Africa & Mozambique. How to explain the border control…. Basically I sat in a delightfully air conditioned room, handed my passport over to some fellow who, for a small fee, got it stamped and cleared ready for entry into Moz – all this done without me once setting foot into the customs office. In any other country this would SO not be permitted but hey! Onwards to Maputo…

As I mentioned the window on Americo’s side of the car was sealed shut so every toll we came to he basically had to open the door, undo his seatbelt, step out of the car and hand over the cash. A long and drawn out process that, when you are stopped at roadblocks manned by police carrying AK47’s, becomes somewhat life threatening. I feel I should mention here that while some nations excel in sports, cultural diversity and so on Mozambique has taken corruption and honed it into a fine art form. The police are so crooked they make a zig zag look straight. In fact, I wonder how any illegal activity ends with a prison sentence as I feel that moral standards are left to the highest bidder!

So saying, YES we did get stopped by the police and YES we did have to pay a ‘fee’. Actually we were stopped by the police numerous times all desperately seeking something, anything.. At our last road block finding that there was nothing to hold us for, (we having become quite savvy) the copper requested that we drive to the nearest supermarket and grab him a drink – all that thirsty work! Thus we ended our trip to Moz

Once safely back on South African soil we were chatting to a bloke who contracts in Moz for a large company. He was very sympathetic about our bribery problems saying..

“If I had known you were going I would have given you my card”.

“Card?” asks Americo

“Ja man, the company pays a ‘donation’ annually to the police force, show them the card and no problems”.

Anyway we decided that Mozambique was not for us. It is fine for a holiday far, far away from civilisation, in the middle of the bush, but not for us who stupidly believe the police should be of some assistance!!

So we look to Australia and carry on hoping for Zimbabwe.

PETS

Americo loves dogs, I am sure in a past life he must have been one. When we were dating in Zimbabwe his family had a big old Alsatian. Arios was its name and he was trained as a mine sniffer, as the name suggests he cleared mines.. in Mozambique. I do not remember how Americo got to have him, I think he was retired.

Anyway, now that we are all grown up and starting our ‘proper’ adult life, you begin to think getting a pet would be nice. The thing is I don’t really like pets, I lack the dedication.

I believe this all stems from when I was growing up on the farm. My parents live in a small farming community on the border of Mozambique. Now when I say the border, I mean we are about 50 metres off the 70 metre mine field that separates Mozambique from Zimbabwe.

As a family we always had lots of pets and back then I loved dogs. The thing is most of the pets I remember came to rather violent ends. I had a beautiful Redsetter called Lady, one day I came home from school and found that Lady had run into the minefield and been blown up. The next I have in my memory is ‘midnight’, he had to be put down due to getting infected with rabies… which meant that I had to go for several rounds of jabs.

In fact, I think it was the MANY journeys to the hospital for rabies jabs that actually put me off pets! Now don’t get me wrong, I love the though of having a pet and appreciate other peoples, its just that I cannot muster the enthusiasm to follow the thought!!