FAREWELL TO ZIMBABWE

This blog post is coming to you from the Johannesburg airport. We are ¼ of the way home. From here, to Paris, to Atlanta, to Portland. We’ll arrive sometime tomorrow night. Getting to Zimbabwe isn’t exactly easy. Getting home from Zimbabwe is even harder since it means leaving behind a lot of friends and good memories from our two years here. 

The process began about a month ago as we started sorting through all our stuff and making decisions about what would come with us in our luggage, what would get sent to DC where we’ll spend the next year, what would meet up with us in Jakarta a year from now (hopefully), and what would just go into storage since our DC and Jakarta housing will be considerably smaller than our Zimbabwe home. Tough decisions! But the movers came a couple weeks ago and had everything packed up in a couple days. Smooth seas and fair winds, stuff! Hope to see you again someday!

So. Much. Stuff.

Despite the written description, these are didgeridoos... not "candle stands."

We spent the morning of our last full day in Zim yesterday with my boss (and now just friend). He said he’d give us some practice answering the question we will inevitably get when we arrive back home, “So, what was Zimbabwe like?” In trying to answer that question, we immediately realized how hard it is to describe in just a couple of sentences. Simply put, it is a place that fills your heart – the wide open spaces are teeming with wildlife, the skies are the bluest I’ve ever seen, and the people are so gentle and lovely. But at the same time, it is a place that breaks your heart – the corruption and cruelty of those in power is unmatched, the economy and infrastructure that once flourished now sits in ruin, and the poverty and desperation of the majority of the population is ever-present. 

A refugee camp near the border with Mozambique was set up to temporarily house people who lost their homes in a cyclone that hit in March 2019.  They were still there over a year later while the Zimbabwe government came up with a "plan."

Downtown Harare looks like a metropolis - especially when the jacaranda trees are blooming in October... but I'm convinced most of these buildings are empty.

I called this traffic light "dealer's choice."  On the plus side, at least it's on.  The majority of the traffic lights didn't work at all. 

Harare's potholes are no joke and were rarely repaired in any official capacity.  More often, entrepreneurs with a few bricks and a shovel would see them as a fundraising opportunity.

And yet... a lovely sunset outside the embassy.

In our “diplobubble,” we were quite sheltered from the daily struggles that most people endure here. When we arrived, the U.S. dollar was the equivalent of about $8 Zimbabwe dollars. Now, a U.S. dollar is about $120 Zimbabwe dollars. If you earn a salary in U.S. dollars and have access to U.S. currency, Zimbabwe is very livable. But most Zimbabweans who earn local currency have watched their incomes plummet and their lives get that much harder. 

Billboards... Zimbabwe style.

Typical street scene in Harare.

Watching and reporting on all of the government’s political and economic shenanigans – which has been my job here – has been draining. But I’ve also been rewarded by seeing Washington pay attention to what I’ve been reporting. Over the course of my tour, I relayed constant information regarding the Zimbabwe government’s mistreatment of workers, harassment of union leaders, and disregard for internationally recognized workers’ rights. In response, Washington is looking into whether Zimbabwe should be allowed to participate in a trade program that allows countries to have reduced taxes on various goods they import to the U.S. provided they respect workers’ rights (among other eligibility criteria).  Pretty cool to know that the work I’m doing has direct implications for our foreign policy.

"Flattie" spiders.  Harmless... but everywhere.

This weaver was busy admiring himself in my sideview mirror one day.

Anyway, besides all that, some of the highlights of my time here – aside from the AMAZING safaris – have been almost daily walks through our neighborhood which started when the COVID lockdowns began as a way to get some fresh air and maintain some sanity, and our regular get-togethers with a small group of friends who became our “pandemic pod.” 

The "lab pack."  We regularly saw this group walking through our neighborhood.

This was our street - and fairly standard condition for residential streets in Harare.

The exterior of our house - a walled-in, barbed-wire paradise on the other side.

See what I mean?  Not a bad place to wait out a pandemic.

Complete with vegetable garden!

I’m forever thankful that Andrew has been an enthusiastic partner – and my constant champion throughout our foreign service adventures to date. (I bestowed upon him the title of Minister of Home Affairs for his tenacious efforts to get sh$t done in a country that does its best to throw up roadblocks at every turn – literally and figuratively.) We will take with us some good photos and even better memories of our two years in Zimbabwe. 

Our pod - and a mini UN.  The nationalities represented in this group include Swiss, Egyptian, Kuwaiti, Israeli, Brazilian, Uruguayan, Australian... and American.

RETURN TO CAPE TOWN

In March 2020, just before COVID shut everything down, we spent a long weekend in Cape Town seeing the sights and catching up with some friends who were passing through.  It was our second visit to Cape Town, and we didn’t expect it might be our last.  But then the pandemic hit and we were confined within Zimbabwe’s borders for last 15 months.  So presented with one final week of vacation, and with travel outside Zimbabwe a bit more open, we opted to return to Cape Town as our last adventure before our time in southern Africa ends.

In our first two trips, we’d covered the basics – Hiked Table Mountain?  Check.  Toured Robben Island?  Yep.  Tasted wine in Franschhoek?  Done.  So this time, we decided to do something a bit different.  We started with a couple days checking out some new-to-us wineries in Stellenbosch and then headed further east to hike around the Elgin Valley. 

The views from the tasting rooms (or patios) in Stellenbosch did not disappoint.  This was our vista at Jordan.

Wine tasting in the time of COVID at Hidden Valley.

Fall colors abound at Thelema.

It's like looking at a painting at Delaire Graff.

The Elgin Valley is a cooler part of the region and home to some stellar pinot noirs.  Some friends in Zim gave us a tip about this “wine hike” that would include four days of hiking (anywhere from 6 to 11 miles a day).  We started early each morning with a drive to a trailhead – or would start right from the guest house where we stayed each night – to hike a different loop around Green Mountain.  We hiked to the summit on day one, and the other days we walked various routes around the mountain and through the “fynbos” – the shrubland around the cape that’s dominated by proteas, heather, and an immense variety of other unique plants.  We had an incredible guide point out interesting facts about the landscape to us and the two other couples that joined us for the duration.  And perhaps the best part - each day’s hike either ended at a winery or with a private tasting back at the guest house from one of the local vintners.  We earned our wine each day!

We had views like this from the trail for four days.  Amazing!

At the top of Green Mountain.  Our lunch spot on day one.

Even though we're coming into winter, so many plants were in bloom!

We hiked along and through some of the valley's vineyards too.

Winding our way through the fynbos.

On the trail.

One of the many cool plants we found along the way.

And another one.  There were some new birds for me too - orange-breasted sunbirds! - but I didn't manage a decent photo of them, so you get plants instead.  They don't move as fast.  Makes 'em much easier to photograph. 

The sky!  The mountains!  It's beautiful country.

We spent our last two days in Hermanus, a coastal town about an hour and a half east of Cape Town.  It’s winter here, so we didn’t venture far into the ocean, but it was refreshing to walk barefoot on the beach and hear the crashing waves after being landlocked for more than a year. 

The coastline along Hermanus is pretty spectacular.

A coastal trail runs along the waterfront in town.

Full moon and a clear night.

We did one last (very short) hike up to a lookout point above town.

We took the long way back to Cape Town and stopped in at one of our favorite wineries in Franschhoek before heading to the airport.  It was a beautiful way to say goodbye, for now, to one of our favorite cities.  And it was a fitting last hurrah to our time in southern Africa.

Not a bad view to accompany a glass of brut at Haute Cabriere.  So long, for now, Cape Town!