In an effort to communicate my recent experience in Harare, Zimbabwe, I will be posting various notes and excerpts from my field journal.  I am also writing a photo essay about the trip.  Hopefully, this article will be ready for publishing soon.  For now, please check out the notes I post over the next two weeks.  Also, if you want to contact me and have more questions, you may contact me at: burlock9225@gmail.com or theDon@pyro-blu.com

December 24th, 8ish in the evening:
"There is something almost paralyzing about losing power to your house.  You quietly sit in darkness contemplating if you accomplished all you could while you still had daylight.  Soon, you will be looking for chunky wax candles, or if you are fortunate, a battery operated flood lantern made in Japan.  Add no electricity with rationed and government sanctioned treated drinking water, and you begin to understand the reason for Zimbabwean refugees in South Africa. 

Before visiting Zimbabwe, I made sure to observe my American privilege of researching the country's recent history.  There was information on cholera and malaria, reports of other political dysfunction as well.  But nothing better describes the emotions of this country right now than my 'Auntie' Florence's face.  She embodies the warmness, tenacity, and innovativeness of an African woman from generations past.  Her passion is for her family first, and then for her business.  Upon learning that the power was out again for the fourth time in six days, her eyes fell, suggesting exhaustion and her shoulders sagged as if to say, "The weight is too much to bear." 

And in a country where daily the rich become richer and the poor become poorer, losing hope is worse than the loss of the basics.  So, here we were, an entire family with five hungry kids and an impatient husband looking like a pack of hungry lions, and no power.  Again.  The first few times it happens, a person makes do: light a phonebook size burner or labor to build a fire to cook meat.  But what about after a week? A month? Or even a year of losing power and running water at any moment for days on end?  It's defeating.  All but disheartening to what was once a growing economy.  Here they have handsome mansions, but limited electricity.  Here, they have voices, but no voices in the government.  And that's why we sit tonight.  Numbed by the chill of the African night. 

I found candles.  The beeswax is so thick and rich you can smell it through the plastic.  Now, if I could only remember where I put those box matches..."
~The verse I read by candlelight before sleeping that night: PSALMS 119:105 "Your Word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.  I have solemnly sworn to keep your righteous judgments.  I am severely afflicted; Lord, give me life through Your Word."

Photos after the break:

language name for a cooked pulverized grain meal that is one of the staple "meal helpers" in Zimbabwe---it is the equivalent of grits here, except they use less water).  The technique of making sadza is a challenge and requires practice.  The women prepared it for us while we were in Zimbabwe.  On the night the power went out, I assisted.  The sadza is usually balled up in your hand and then mixed with stewed vegetables like collard greens with curry sauce.