Dear Family and Friends,
At the beginning of August the Interception of Communications Act was signedinto law and the government of Zimbabwe can now legally intercept emails andfaxes, listen to telephone conversations and open and read letters. At a timewhen there is no fuel to buy at petrol stations and almost no public transporton the roads, just getting to the local Post Office has become a major outingfor most people. Sending a simple fax has become a joke and it often takesthirty or forty attempts to connect to a telephone number and even then successis not guaranteed. Sending SMS/text messages is a mission of major proportionsand requires the patience of a Saint as scores of times in a row the words flickup:" Message sending failed" until eventually you give up in disgust. Then weget to the aspects of communications that require electricity and the joke ofthe Interception Act gets even funnier. This week the electricity cuts in myhome town have been so bad that they've lasted for 18 hours a day, starting at 4am m in the morning and going on until 10 pm at night. And so, all thingsconsidered,you have to wonder just exactly what it is our government thinks weare saying to each other and how we are finding the time or means to say it.Most people I've met this week are walking around like zombies. We are utterlyexhausted as the simplest of daily chores require great ingenuity, considerableamounts of time and vast amounts of energy. People everywhere relate the absurd,upside down routine that has become life here. Cooking outside on open fires.Doing washing in the middle of the night if you're lucky enough to have bothwater and electricity on at the same time. Ironing clothes at midnight afterfrantically rushing around plugging in and recharging batteries, torches, cellphones, fridges and deep freezes and hoping the power stays on long enough tostore energy for another 24 hours. In the rare times when the electricity is onpeople are doing things to physically survive and frankly communication is notone of them. Everyone knows this is a completely unsustainable situation thatnow prevails in the country with no food to buy, no fuel for transport, verylittle water and even less electricity and it has become a question of remainingalert and focused and trying to stay positive.This week, tired as we are, the sheer beauty of spring in Zimbabwe, is reasonenough to be positive. The Msasa trees have begun displaying their new leavesand the crowns of red and their promise of new life are a real delight. TheMahobohobo trees are crowded with golden fruits and the wild orange trees areweighted down with their great green cricket balls, soon to ripen and at leastgive food to people who have nothing. Conducting an errand by bicycle this weekI came across five young children dragging tree branches across a dirt road backto their homes in a high density suburb. The kids paused from the heavy chorefor a minute and stared open mouthed as I passed. "How are you?" I called outand as always this standard greeting led to a chorus of echoes from them andthen great gleeful giggling. Later when I got home and was tending a pot of soupover a smoky fire I looked up and saw my latest distraction. A red headed weaveris building a nest on the telephone line against the wall of my house. I can'thelp but wonder what this will do to the intercepting of my communications andwatched in amazement as the female weaver arrived. After just three days theskeleton of the nest is built and is obviously strong enough to hold her. Thefemale weaver sat herself down in the sticks and leaf midribs as the red headedmale spent the next hour going backwards and forwards busily constructing thehouse around her. Zimbabwe is a country so rich and yet so poor but surely soonwe will turn the corner.
Until next week,
love cathy.
At the beginning of August the Interception of Communications Act was signedinto law and the government of Zimbabwe can now legally intercept emails andfaxes, listen to telephone conversations and open and read letters. At a timewhen there is no fuel to buy at petrol stations and almost no public transporton the roads, just getting to the local Post Office has become a major outingfor most people. Sending a simple fax has become a joke and it often takesthirty or forty attempts to connect to a telephone number and even then successis not guaranteed. Sending SMS/text messages is a mission of major proportionsand requires the patience of a Saint as scores of times in a row the words flickup:" Message sending failed" until eventually you give up in disgust. Then weget to the aspects of communications that require electricity and the joke ofthe Interception Act gets even funnier. This week the electricity cuts in myhome town have been so bad that they've lasted for 18 hours a day, starting at 4am m in the morning and going on until 10 pm at night. And so, all thingsconsidered,you have to wonder just exactly what it is our government thinks weare saying to each other and how we are finding the time or means to say it.Most people I've met this week are walking around like zombies. We are utterlyexhausted as the simplest of daily chores require great ingenuity, considerableamounts of time and vast amounts of energy. People everywhere relate the absurd,upside down routine that has become life here. Cooking outside on open fires.Doing washing in the middle of the night if you're lucky enough to have bothwater and electricity on at the same time. Ironing clothes at midnight afterfrantically rushing around plugging in and recharging batteries, torches, cellphones, fridges and deep freezes and hoping the power stays on long enough tostore energy for another 24 hours. In the rare times when the electricity is onpeople are doing things to physically survive and frankly communication is notone of them. Everyone knows this is a completely unsustainable situation thatnow prevails in the country with no food to buy, no fuel for transport, verylittle water and even less electricity and it has become a question of remainingalert and focused and trying to stay positive.This week, tired as we are, the sheer beauty of spring in Zimbabwe, is reasonenough to be positive. The Msasa trees have begun displaying their new leavesand the crowns of red and their promise of new life are a real delight. TheMahobohobo trees are crowded with golden fruits and the wild orange trees areweighted down with their great green cricket balls, soon to ripen and at leastgive food to people who have nothing. Conducting an errand by bicycle this weekI came across five young children dragging tree branches across a dirt road backto their homes in a high density suburb. The kids paused from the heavy chorefor a minute and stared open mouthed as I passed. "How are you?" I called outand as always this standard greeting led to a chorus of echoes from them andthen great gleeful giggling. Later when I got home and was tending a pot of soupover a smoky fire I looked up and saw my latest distraction. A red headed weaveris building a nest on the telephone line against the wall of my house. I can'thelp but wonder what this will do to the intercepting of my communications andwatched in amazement as the female weaver arrived. After just three days theskeleton of the nest is built and is obviously strong enough to hold her. Thefemale weaver sat herself down in the sticks and leaf midribs as the red headedmale spent the next hour going backwards and forwards busily constructing thehouse around her. Zimbabwe is a country so rich and yet so poor but surely soonwe will turn the corner.
Until next week,
love cathy.
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