So . . . . . who wants to go to Zimbabwe?

     I know, I know.  I never even finished up my blog entries regarding MBG's and my trip to Zimbabwe in January of 2015.  I still hope to do that.
     BUT, one thing I CAN report about that trip is that MBG and I, while at Imire,  were marvelling at what a wonderful experience it was, and one of us--can't remember who--said "wouldn't it be cool if we could get a group of people from home to come here?"
     The more we talked about it, the better the idea seemed.   Yet . . . what's an idea without a plan?
     A couple of months after we returned home, an opportunity arose.  MBG and I acquired a space at the Northwoods Sustainability Fair on Earth Day (April 22), and we hawked--yes, I mean HAWKED--going to Zimbabwe.  We asked people to sign up, including their email addresses, if they had any interest in going, and to rate their interest on a scale of 1 to 5.  
     We were pretty surprised  to finish up the day with 12 interested parties!
     So then, a couple of months later, a flurry of emails went out to these interested parties, and I started seriously pricing out the trip.
     Well, to cut to the chase, one month from today, SIX of us--yes, SIX--depart for Imire.  And not only are we going to "do" Imire, but we are also going to visit Victoria Falls and Botswana's Okavango Delta.  We'll be gone more than three weeks!  
     What an adventure this will be!  This time, not only in experiencing Africa, but in travelling with a group of only-slightly-acquainted friends!  More later about our plans!

The Agenda

       While getting my bearings at the volunteer house, I meandered into the kitchen and found a large activity board posted on the wall.  I could see that every day except Sunday was divided into three parts, the first being at the rather unseemly hour of 6:30 to 8:30 a.m.  Before breakfast, mind you!  Yes, that's BEFORE breakfast!  And the second being from 10:00 a.m. to noon, and the third being from 2:00 to 5:00 p.m. Here's our first week's schedule:
       

 And here's our second week:

The first thing I noticed--and maybe the first you did too--was that these people appeared to be REALLY serious about WORK!  Imire was my fourth "volun-tourism" gig, but it was only at Moholoholo in South Africa that there was a serious "work" component.  There we had a rigorous schedule of tending to the needs of the animals we were assigned to.    But at both the Elephant Valley Project in Cambodia and Modisa in Botswana, there was really not all that much work involved.  You definitely got the impression that these places were more educational in nature, intended more to raise awareness of the natural and human issues in those areas and to raise some cash to meet the many many worthwhile needs.  This is no criticism, mind you.  The last thing I would want is to actually take jobs away from the locals.  And I am MORE than happy to make my modest monetary contribution to these incredible causes.
       But, here at Imire, we clearly had serious work to do!  Construction!  Deconstruction!  Rolling wires!  Research!   Interspersed, however, with lots of fun and instructional stuff too like horseback riding and elephant training.  I was confident it was going to be a GOOD TIME!  
       Especially when I discovered a flourishing, but very weedy, vegetable garden in the back yard.  Here it was January.  JANUARY!!!!  And I was about to be given my very own garden to tend for two whole weeks.  I could hardly wait to get my hands in the dirt.

Imire 101

       I always find it disorienting to the point of oblivion when arriving at a place I've been anticipating and imagining for some time.  Arrival always seems SUDDEN, and the number of people and, well, STUFF that approach you and seem to require instantaneous recognition is overwhelming.
       But I do remember that the intital  impression of Imire was very positive.  We'd driven across gently rolling plains that were green and pleasant.  We'd already seen substantial herds of zebra, impala, blesboks, and wildebeest, and we'd gotten a glimpse of four of the resident elephants.  
     Lantana  trees and bushes were in full bloom all over the place and phenomenally beautiful.  Later I would find out that lantana, despite its beauty, is a serious invasive threat to the area.  Plus, it's poisonous to cattle.  Elephants, however, enjoy it, and it was funny to see them walking along munching on a beautiful bouquet of lantanas.  "Beauty" to us.  To them, "lunch."
       Eventually we pulled into the shady yard of the "volunteer house."  So welcoming.  We learned later the volunteer house was once the home of the brother of the family who has owned Imire for generations.  Sadly, but undeniably interesting, was the additional fact that he was killed by a cape buffalo.

The window you see with the partially drawn curtain was the bedroom assigned to MBG and me.  
       You can see in the background what in Africa is referred to as a "dam."  We would call it a lake, or when we were being more precise, a "reservoir."  In fact, it is a man-made lake created by a dam built on a river.  There are several of these on the Imire property, testaments to the hard work of the British settlers who altered the landscape in order to make it more friendly to agriculture and development.  
       Here we met the two people who were to be our minders the remaining two weeks.  Though probably neither of them thought of  themselves as "minders," that's what they were, alright.  All seven of the volunteers were women, and I can't imagine how these guys, both Zimbabweans, managed to keep us safe and productive and for the most part united.

I asked both these guys if they were familiar with the expression "herding cats."  They weren't.
Then.  But they are now.  
       Yes, these are my heroes:  Bright, on the left, and Mike, on the right.  And yes, you guessed it, that's my dirty finger on the far right!

The transition from Harare to Imire

       MBG and I stayed at the Kutandara Lodge for three nights.  During that time, we did have a couple of opportunities to see the city of Harare, which has a population of nearly two million.  The first thing Americans like us notice about Harare is that there is virtually no infrastructure.  What do I mean by that?  
       Well, the roads are the most noticeable.  They are horrific by American standards.  There are more potholes than roads, and driving on them is largely a matter of evading potholes.  There are also very few sidewalks so thousands of pedestrians walk on the roads themselves, causing those spoiled passengers like me to be CERTAIN that we were going to hit and kill multiple pedestrians at almost any moment.
       Our driver Dairai kindly (and courageously) took us downtown Harare.  We were amazed to see that there were virtually no traffic controls and that traffic inched its way around the city streets, seemingly by rules of combat rather than regulation.  It seemed like most commerce took place on the streets themselves, with vendors selling everything imaginable from the streets.  The chaos was incredible--shocking, almost--and MBG and I were content to spend virtually all our time in Harare safe in the confines of the Kutandara Lodge.
       While there we learned some of the reasons for the chaos in Harare.  Consider, for example, that the unemployment rate in Zimbabwe is . . . . . wait for it . . . . . 95%.  That's right, 95%.  Or, how's this for a statistic?  The average income for Zimbabweans is $400/year.   No, I did not leave out any zeroes in that figure.
        We also found some of the reasons for this when we discovered that we couldn't use our credit cards in Zimbabwe.  Apparently the U.S. government has clamped down hard on Zimbabwe because of alleged money laundering taking place there.  But WHAT a shock it is to discover that one's plastic simply does not work.  Yes, we were a little stressed (and a little broke!)
       Hmmmm.  The electricity failed at least once per day, once during a thunderstorm, but usually for no apparent reason.  Water?  Well, Kutandara had its own "borehole," so the water was safe to drink, but we were strongly warned against drinking anything from the municipal water supply.
       I am worried that I am being unfair to Harare.  I did see some beautiful parks and residential areas.  There was never a time when I felt unsafe or even unwelcome.  I am absolutely positive there was much to be seen and appreciated about Harare that I didn't take advantage of.  Even so, the over-riding sense I had was of financial desperation.
       Given all this, it is amazing that we had so wonderful a time at Kutandara, and it speaks so very well of both the owners Gary and Paula and of the wonderful staff they'd accumulated.
       But after three nights, we were restless and ready to get to our main destination----Imire!  And sure enough, a rather plush Toyota van picked us up Monday morning, and before we knew it, we were navigating the potholed streets and then the potholed road heading southeast out of Harare, past weird balancing rocks and run-down agricultural areas.  We were officially on our way.

such good friends in so short a time

     MBG and I decided  to  spend  three  nights  in Harare  to rest up before heading to  Imire,  and the Kutandara  Lodge  was recommended  to  us  by the Imire staff.  Now I  can't  remember  what  I  expected ,  but  I  know  it  wasn't  what we found.
     Paula  and Gary, the owners, purchased the Lodge  recently and thoroughly  remodeled  it.  Both of  them  have  outside  jobs to support  the  place, since  tourism  in  Zimbabwe  is not  flourishing yet.  Paula  is an accountant ,  and Gary teaches chemistry  in a private  secondary  school ,  where, interestingly  enough, most of his  students  are  Greek!  Apparently  there is  a  substantial  Greek  population  in Harare ,  and Gary  said  that  his  students  were wonderful.  The  feeling  has  to  be  mutual  since I noticed  that  Gary  left  for  school  before  6 am in order  to  watch  his  students  play  soccer .
     The Lodge  is clearly  a  labor  of  love ,   and  you  can  see  it  everywhere .

The bathroom in our suite.

An itinerant Vikings fan outside our room.

    



 The  grounds  were   beautifully  lush.  The gardener, a gentleman  by the name  of Solomon ,  kept  the  flower  beds in pristine  condition.  Even  so, gardeners  will  be  gardeners, and MBG and I, being gardeners, were  able  to  find  the  odd weed or two  hiding  in  the  beds.  Solomon  welcomed  our help, and we three  enjoyed working  together . 







       What  really  won us  over  about  Kutandara  Lodge,  though ,  was the  people.  The only guest there besides  us   was a South African  guy who  is  in  the  mining  business .    He'd been  living  at Kutandara  Lodge   for more  than  a  year   while  developing  a  nearby  diamond and  gold  mine.  Although  he was terribly  busy, he kept offering  to show  us around, a generous  offer  for so busy a man.  He taught  us a lot about  Africa  in our conversations at meal times.
       It was the staff though who became  our  dear friends .   Lovemore?  Sandy?  Sarah?  Susan?  Peter?  Solomon?  If you're  reading this, I   can't  express our appreciation  of your care of us and your honoring  us  with  your  friendship !
        And as for YOU ,  I  hope  that  the  next  time  you  find YOURSELF  in  Harare ,  you will  stay  at  the  Kutandara  Lodge .    Which  reminds me:  I  have  got to  get on Trip Advisor and post a review !

Sandy and Sarah

GO PACK . . . .gone

       Like sports  fans  the world  over, my confidence  in  my  team goes only so far.  I  am  absolutely  certain  that  they require  my direct  supervision  to  win.  So I  felt pretty  traitorous  being  halfway  around  the  world  when  the team  needed  me most.
      So, imagine my relief  when  I  found that the NFC Championship  game would be broadcast  live  in Harare, albeit starting  at  12.30  in the  morning.
      The aforementioned  Viking  fan  decided  to  stay  up with  me to watch, and Lovemore, who is in charge  of  night  security  at Kutandara  Lodge , was intrigued .   He is a devout football  fan, but like  all other non-Americans, he means "soccer" when he says "football."

     

Yet, Lovemore  was  more  than  willing  to learn the rules  of  American  football , and he was  cheerfully  optimistic , as you  can  see.  He did very  well  at learning  the game,  but  the concept  of "sudden  death" stumped him.  It was just  SO . . . .  well,  sudden . 


     Even  the  dogs at the Green  Bay  Packers  Zimbabwe  headquarters  took  the  loss  hard.

Sigh.

Several arrivals in Africa

    The long flight from Dubai was somewhat disappointing.  One time when I flew across the Sahara, I was treated to seemingly  infinite  vistas of desert that I found mesmerizing.  I had great hopes  for the downward  pointing camera the plane  was  equpped with.  But it was hazy the entire trip, and we saw nothing, not even Mount 
Kilimanjaro, which we passed quite near to.
       Our plane landed in Lukasa, the Capitol of Zambia.  MBG  was wild to set foot on Zambian soil--who wouldn't be after all that sitting--but we weren't  permitted  off  the  plane.  And soon enough we took off again for by far the shortest leg of our  journey, the final leg to Harare.
       We landed right on time and passed into a small but modern  terminal, where a woman  holding a little  handheld  device rather  like a small flashlight  up to a couple of inches  from our  foreheads.  I had no idea that body temperatures could be  detected  from  that distance, but apparently  so.  That is a crucial  part of Zimbabwe's Ebola prevention  program, which so far has a 100% success  rate.  Take that, U.S.!
          Surprisingly  enough, neither  of  us  were  feverish  and so we were permitted to buy  our visas and enter the country.  While  in line,  we had an ever-so-interesting   conversation  with a woman who had been born  in  Zimbabwe  but had emigrated   to England  nine years ago.  This was to be her first trip back, and she was nervous and hopeful.
       We found Dairai, the driver sent by our lodgings, in the terminal,and he cheerfully  greeted us and drove us through the REMARKABLY potholed roads of Harare.
       Soon we pulled into the walled enclosure  of Kutandara  Lodge, our home  for  the  next  couple  of  days.  A fabulous oasis of calm and beauty in the rough-and-tumble

 chaos that is Harare.

Unpleasant discoveries at 38,000 feel

       A sudden  change here.   I am forced to suspend  my chronicles  about Botswana . The reason?  I am in Zimbabwe.  And I don't  have access to my photos.   I do have my new notepad, though, so I will try to keep current with present adventures.
       I am travelling with MBG, who has been a friend for over 30 years.  She and I have the distinction  of being the first two women to have law practices in Rhinelander (in case you're  wondering , I'm  NUMBER ONE!)
       You'd think that in that much time, you'd know  a person, wouldn't  you ?   So imagine  my  distress  when, more than halfway  into our two  day journey , the  conversation  turns, as it does so frequently  this time of year, to football, and I learn the horrible news:  I am  travelling  with  a Viking  fan.
       Sure, I knew she grew up in Minnesota, but she's  lived in Wisconsin, as I  said,for more than 30 years!  I had just ASSUMED she was indifferent to football in general, but no!  She is a bona fide Viking fan.
     For the first time, I have  doubts  about the wisdom of this trip.
       I must admit, however, that so far--apart from this  shocker--it's  been  going ok.  We left the house shortly after 10 a.m. Wednesday, starting off with an  unremarkable  drive  to Elgin.  Kurt and Wendy welcomed us warmly and even served up a wonderful home-cooked supper.  Then Kurt whisked us off to O'Hare, where we were efficiently processed and launched off by Air Emirates.  A "mere" 14 hours later, two very weary travellers found themselves at Dubai International  Airport .   Disappointingly enough, it looked the same as just about any airport  in any prosperous  country.  Every imaginable luxury store and every franchise  known to mankind, but no soul.  Well, except for as intriguing  a display of hookahs as you've ever seen since 1973.
       Feeling much like Peter O'Toole in Lawrence of Arabia, we valiantly trouped around the vast terminal before finally locating our hotel and retiring for what surely seemed like a well-deserved rest and to await  our wake-up  call to catch the 9-hour-long continuation of our trip to Harare.

and then there are . . . .

     What a shame that so many of the very most interesting of the animals of the Kalahari have been identified as menaces to the farming business!  No different, of course, from the U.S. farming business which persists to this day to see predators such as wolves, coyotes, and cougars as evil incarnate and to strive for their eradication.
     Lions certainly have been viewed this way in the Kalahari, but they are not alone.  Notably, wild dogs, leopards, and hyenas suffer from the same bad image.  Leopards still manage to be the most plentiful wild cat in Africa, and they have adapted amazingly well to human habitation, even URBAN human habitation.  They are very much feared, because they apparently hunt by stealth and are very good at it, sometimes even to the detriment of people.  But oh my, are they beautiful and majestic!  Check this article out for sensible alternatives!  http://www.theguardian.com/environment/india-untamed/2015/jan/08/mumbai-residents-learn-live-with-leopards

Here is one of the two kept in compounds at the Grasslands, having just received her twice-weekly ration of meat . . . .  and NOT about to share it with anyone.

What a fabulous creature.  I prefer them to lions, I think, but then, who has to choose?




     And wild dogs!  Not too long before I went to Africa, a child at a U.S. zoo was killed by wild dogs when he fell into a compound from some sort of high observation post.  So I was disposed to dislike the animals and see them as brutal killers, a disposition that apparently I shared with a majority of Africans.  Because wild dogs have become very rare indeed, having been killed on sight for years.

     I understand that wild dogs, long vilified as wily, sneaky, bloodthirsty beasts, are now being seen as having qualities too--such as extreme loyalty.  That is, loyalty to the extent that individuals will sacrifice their own lives for the sake of the pack.  Take a look at this pack being fed and see whether you think they have redeeming features!

I for one was rather taken by them.  They constantly whined at each other and seemed to be always aware of each other.  They teased and played and were undeniably voracious eaters.  And their coloring was just magnificent.  I hope they make a comeback.

There are lions at Modisa . . .

    As I tried to describe earlier, The Grasslands, which is the property upon which Modisa is located, is home to about 25 captive lions collected by Wille DeGraaffe over many years.  Some of them have actually been born in captivity.  This was as a result of "unplanned pregnancies," because no one ever intended that there should be MORE captive lions--they just happened.
     They don't happen any more, though, because the females have birth control implants maintained to prevent the perpetuation of lions in captivity.  Mr. DeGraaffe and Val and Mikkel, the founders of Modisa, are all agreed that lions do not belong in captivity.  These are just too accustomed to the presence of humans, though, to ever be released into the wild again.  It is sad.
     That being said, the lions are cared for with as much respect and consideration as is humanly possible.  Their compounds are a minimum of several acres in size, and they are fed a diet as close to what they would hunt for themselves as possible.  And who could fail to be thrilled by the sound of their roaring?  Or by watching them devour their food?  I hope you will be able to open this movie and experience just a little of the thrill of being near these fabulous animals.

This big guy is named Sampson, and he is the lion with the most seniority.  He shares his enclosure with seven lionesses.  One morning we learned that a young male from an adjacent enclosure jumped the fence INTO Sampson's enclosure.  Not a good idea.  Sad to say, that young lion died.