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.