Pedagogy of the Oppressed

Since I've been backdating a few posts, I figured I should cover my Zimbabwe trip from a few months ago--

My trip to Zimbabwe followed closely after my second 3-week stint in Uganda, so by the time I got on the plane I was ready to take those sleeping drugs and knock myself out for 20 hours. The flight is brutal: 8 hours to Dakar, an 2 hours sitting in the plane on the runway, 8 hours to Johannesburg, layover, and 2 more hours to Zimbabwe. I was pretty nervous about going through customs - I'd been instructed to say I was there on business, but my business in Zim at that time was pretty undercover - so what if somebody started asking questions? I was also nervous about getting all my luggage - certain that little blue suitcase wouldn't make it. God was very gracious - no problems at customs, and all my luggage came through.

My boss met me at the airport full of smiles - he was so happy to finally get some support at our office, I think he would have welcomed Cruella DeVille. We walked out to the parking lot where someone had put a boot on his tire (actually puncturing it)-- we drove home on a leaking tire. My boss told me, "Abigail, here you don't stop at night - no matter what. Also, we don't follow any traffic laws." Ok, I thought - I can do this... maybe. On the way home, a gigantic rat crossed our path - literally the largest rodent I've ever seen. Otherwise, the streets were eerily deserted.

I stayed at the Holiday Inn Harare - a strange and almost claustraphobic-feeling hotel. By the end of my visit, the staff all knew me by name. They would greet me in the morning, welcome me back at night, and always call my room during my post-work siesta to ask how I was finding the hotel. I was like - fine, just as fine as I found it 10 minutes ago when you saw me in the lobby. The word supercilious comes to mind.

I went for a couple long walks through the city - and was always struck by what I saw: the infrastructure of a glorious city, past its heyday, and moving into decay and disrepair. I wonder if Ancient Rome had a similar feeling during its decline?

The roads had once been beautiful, but now there are giant potholes which no one bothers to repair. There are traffic lights and gardens and plumbing and bars, but the traffic lights have burnt out, the gardens are overgrown, the pipes get no water, and shelves in the bars are empty. The food is greasy and expensive. I think there was once a beautiful side to this city, but I never found it. I was more impressed by the piles of trash and huge 'cholera puddles.'

Most people who had not fled have this 'hunker-down and survive' attitude. You can tell people are used to an opulant lifestyle - everyone has a car, everyone shops at the upscale markets, loves fresh fruit; they even fly to Johannesburg for shopping weekends. But where were they when the country needed resistors and rebels?

I don't have any pictures to add here because if someone sees you snapping photos, you can get arrested or show up in some scandelous newspaper. I'll add some Victoria Falls photos soon.