August 29

Saturday begins on a good note. I am watering my flower pots early in the morning when a friend comes round with eight large tins of tuna for me.  She refuses to take any money for them and I really am quite overwhelmed by her generosity. If I did the tuna fish twist a couple of weeks ago in Pnp, I now do the tuna fish breakdance.

After my lesson, I sit and wade through marking, trying desperately to get it all done.  I have also got very behind with this blog and so I do about eight posts at once.

In the afternoon, Sian and Ellie make a lovely gingerbread and decorate it with what they describe as a Lemon Zen icing.  We take it to friends for tea. According to our meteorological friend, the weather will change on Monday for a couple of days and then it should heat up properly.  We talk about the rain we had last week, which is very unusual for August.  Apparently, it last rained in August in 1999 and before that in 1977.  In both years, we had a higher than usual rainfall.  

Fingers crossed it will be the same this year. The municipal water is all but finished, boreholes are running dry and the water table is very low. We need rain.

August 28

 It's hair cut day.  After seeing pictures of myself in an Arabic literary magazine, I have decided I look old and severe and a new look is called for.  Sian also wants to cut her hair so we both head off for the chop.

Sitting at the hairdresser's, watching some VERY bad Bollywood movie where everything seems to happen in slow motion and the characters take a long time to get to the point, I realise I am very tired.  Really, really tired.  The yoga I did yesterday evening plus the fact that I struggle to go to sleep most nights plus all the essays I have marked recently suddenly catch up with me.  

When I get home, I can hardly eat before I have to go and lie down, I am so tired. I really do wish I was a housewife.

August 27

In between preparing work, conducting Zoom lessons and catching up with admin, I am phoning around, looking for water to buy.  Quite a number of people are selling it and I manage to find someone who will deliver it immediately and at the best price. We also look into taking all the sheets and towels to the laundry, but that works out quite expensive.

The water arrives while I am in a Zoom lesson and John is out so Sian is given the responsibility of moving the car out of the way of the big truck that arrives.  She is quite proud about this! We have to lock Rolo inside in case he takes a chunk out of the driver.  Rolo does not take well to being kept inside the house and keeps throwing himself at the door.

It takes a couple of hours to fill the tank and when it's done, we feel a great sense of relief.  I wash some of the sheets and some of our clothes, but we can't do everything or we will be out of water again.  Hopefully some time in the next few days the municipal water will come on again.

In the evening I go to yoga and come back feeling like I could just go to sleep.  I have been struggling to sleep recently and I am so looking forward to my head hitting the pillow.  However, when it comes time to go to bed, I am wide awake.

August 26

It's another busy day in a very busy week.  I hold another workshop on the veranda, this time for AS students. Another ten students come, but luckily the weather is lovely and warm.

The water runs out completely. We have PILES of dirty washing as we have been unable to wash the sheets from our guests at the weekend.  

In the evening, just before we go to bed, I see we have a new booking - for tonight.  This is no way anyone can stay so we try to contact the guests to cancel, but the number they have given us is not a whatsapp number and not a local one.  We send them a message on booking.com.  However, at about ten o'clock we receive a phone call to say they are at the gate and I have to apologise and explain that we have  no water and that we have tried to get hold of them.

Tomorrow we will have to look at buying water.

August 25

The water situation is quite dire.  We have now been reduced to one day a week and you don't know which day it is in advance.  The City Council now publish a daily advert as to which areas will have water. We are excited to find out that we will be having water today.

We have four people staying tonight.  They are on their way to Plumtree to clear a new car through customs.  I wish them good luck - the thought of dealing with paperwork and bureaucracy is not an appealing one.  They seem to be enjoying their trip though and have a braai and play music.  Once again, I am envious of people going away - anywhere.

In the afternoon, someone phones me from an agency and asks if we can take two people tonight.  It is often the way that we get enquiries when we are booked.  It is nice to get some interest even if we have to turn it down as it shows that life is slowly beginning again.

The water does not come on as scheduled.  This is not good.  It may have come on in other areas of Hillside and we have therefore missed our turn for having water.  There is no way after having six people to stay in the last few days that our water will last until next week.

At a quarter to midnight, my phone rings.  It is someone on their way to Bulawayo from Harare looking for accommodation.  

A few years ago, we went to Switzerland for Christmas.  We had been in the UK where we hired a car and drove across France.  We didn't book ahead.  We had a cut off time for driving and wherever we stopped, we would look for somewhere to stay.  It was more difficult than we thought it would be as we didn't realise that France appears to close in the winter. We drove through these eerily dark villages and towns where all the lights were off and the accommodation was closed.  It made me appreciate the idea of booking ahead, even if it is only the day before.

August 24

Last week we had someone come and see us about renting the cottage until the end of September.  He was very confident and effervescent and even offered to upgrade our Internet to the unlimited package as he said his girlfriend needed it for a project she was working on in the evenings.

They came around together once.  The idea was just for her to stay in the cottage, but she did not say a word or ask a question.  I got the distinct feeling when they were here that she was not too keen on the idea and was being steamrolled into it.  

They were supposed to get back to us by Saturday as to when she was going to move in but we did not hear from them.  Today I send a message and get a reply saying that they have fallen out and she is not talking to him anymore. All plans for the cottage are now on hold.

Somehow both John and I knew that this was going to happen so it is not a big surprise.  The man reminded us both of a friend of ours who was always confident and great fun but was quite hopeless when it came to romantic partners as he made decisions on their behalf and then wondered why the women got annoyed.

August 23

 I know it's Sunday and I know I said I'd do no work on a Sunday, but today I relent and give an extra lesson.  Mock exams are starting at many schools next week so I agree to do a Sunday lesson.

We have been invited to brunch with some friends.  We are all very excited that we are leaving the house.  Our friends live on a smallholding on the outskirts of Bulawayo and they have pigs, goats, dogs and chickens.  This is paradise for Sian and Ellie.  At one point they both appear with a lamb each and ask if we can take them home.  Somehow I don't think that would work with our dogs.

We spend a very pleasant afternoon catching up with a number of friends.  It has warmed up a bit, but is still a little chilly.  

On the way home, we drive past the Bulawayo Country Club.  My parents' house is near here and my mum would walk her dogs on the golf course.  I feel a real stab of pain, looking out across the greens, thinking of all the walks we had and all the hours we spent chatting.  

The water does not come back on as it usually does on a Sunday.  I wonder if we will make it to Thursday.

August 22

I hold an IGCSE English language workshop at my house - on the veranda to be exact.  It is cold.  Freezing cold.  I think it is the coldest day we have had the whole year.  It begins well, but towards the end, everyone is shivering, including me.

I spend the afternoon marking.  Around 2.30pm, there is a hoot at the gate and John goes to see who it is.  Unknown to us, we have just had a booking made on booking.com and it is the guests.  They arrive with a huge bunch of balloons saying 'Happy Anniversary'.  When I ask John where they are from, he says they said Harare but he didn't believe them.  He thinks it's a ruse.  I'm not sure why anyone would say they are from Harare if they weren't, but anyway.  I think my Agatha Christie mind is rubbing off on John.

In the evening, I have a glass of wine, the first in two months and I feel very odd.  It is not a nice feeling at all.  Since I began doing more yoga and meditation, I find myself rarely drinking anything alcoholic.  This has not been a conscious decision, but something that has just happened.

August 21

School exams start today - online.  Sian has her first exam at eight o'clock so we have to make sure everything is set up and ready.  I have to take my dad to the eye specialist at 9.30 which means I also have to get him up, give him breakfast and time to get ready.  By nine o'clock, it is obvious that we are running late so I phone the eye specialist to see if we can move the appointment forward an hour.  No one answers.

At 9.30, the eye specialist himself phones and asks if we are coming and I explain that I tried to phone and move the appointment.  He says that he will be in surgery at 10.30.  Can we come as soon as possible?  Quickly, I bundle my dad into the car and zoom across town.  We arrive at the eye clinic in a cloud of dust only to find that we have to wait. And we wait.  And we wait.  Eventually, I ask the receptionist if the eye specialist knows we are waiting.  'Yes,' she says.  'But he's not here.  He's in surgery.' He arrives at 10.45.

After the appointment, we go and have a cup of coffee and slice of cake at my favourite place, Still Haven.  My dad is much more jolly than he was the last time we went out for coffee.  I buy a jasmine.  I love jasmine, but I have never been successful at growing it - well, it grows, but it doesn't flower.  This one is already full of flowers so hopefully there is not much I can do to kill them off.

August 20

The municipal water, which has been off for a week, comes on again.  Hooray!  Our tank was running very low indeed.  We now have the matter of laundry to sort out. I am usually in charge of laundry so I begin to feel mild panic when I see that John has done one massive Man Wash.

A Man Wash, for those of you who have husbands and partners who wouldn't be able to identify a washing machine in a police line up, is a wash in which everything from woolens to towels to delicate silk scarves and even, on occasion, the dogs' blankets, are thrown in the machine with a various assortment of washing powders and laundry detergents (I won't mention the time Sunlight washing up liquid was used) and the on button pushed.

When I look out at all the washing on the line, I have to practise deep breathing and clench and unclench my fists to prevent myself having a complete breakdown.

'Oh,' I say, hoping that the ripples of passive aggression cannot be detected, 'I always thought pure wool had to be hand washed.  It appears it doesn't.'

Ellie has decided that, with most of the year cancelled, it's time to bring on Christmas.  It is her favourite time of the year and she usually begs to start decorating the tree in November (around the second).  Today she plays Christmas carols, bakes snowmen shaped biscuits and wears her Christmas socks.  She has also started decorating her bedroom.  

All I can say is bring on 2021.

August 19

John and I very rarely go shopping together these days.  We always used to, but now he goes out and does the main shopping whilst I go far more infrequently.  There are some good things about shopping together, such as not buying two of the same thing. That's about it though.  I struggle to think of anything else. Since John has become The Shopper, he has also become incredibly difficult to go shopping with.

Tension begins to build before we have even reached the shopping centre.  I am driving and, although John will tell you he is the most relaxed happy-go-lucky chap you'll ever meet, he's not.  Not when someone else is driving.

John: Why are you going this way?

Me: Because this is the way I always go.

John: I usually take the Matopos road.  It gets you straight into town.

Me: (deep breath) I don't like the Matopos road.

John: Well, you'd save yourself approximately three minutes and twenty-three seconds if you took it.

Me: (Big deep breath) Well, I'm not in a hurry.

Silence.

John: Why don't you like the Matopos road?

Then there's the matter of the lanes.  It may surprise some people to discover that Bulawayo has a fast lane.  Shocked? I know.  The thing is most people don't know about it.  What would be referred to in other countries as the inside lane is, in Bulawayo, the stopping lane.  This is where you pull over (quite randomly, I'll add) to drop people off and pick them up.  The outside lane is for all other driving at whatever speed you may choose. Despite living in Africa for 29 years, John still gets highly infuriated with the fact that the lanes are not used properly.  I choose to travel in the outside lane all the time because otherwise your journey is a very jerky one as you constantly have to stop, or change lanes anyway, because some Honda Fit driver has chosen to pull over and offload 25 of its passengers at once.

'You're very British,' I snap at John when he tells me yet again that I am in the wrong lane.  In this instance, 'British' has negative connotations.

Once we are at the shops, actually getting to the point of putting anything in the trolley is a trial.

John: What do you want sugar for?

Me: Elizabeth.

John: Elizabeth doesn't need sugar.  It's not good for her.

John: Don't buy the bananas here.  They're cheaper at Paddy's.

Me:  These are nice big ones.

John: Smaller bananas are much more economical.  Who wants to eat a big banana?

As the tension builds, I manage to sneak a packet of caster sugar and a tin of cocoa in the trolley.  Later, I see John pick these up and examine them. Although I expect to be told to put them back where I found them, they appear to pass the test.

When we come out of the vegetable shop, someone has parked in such a way that I cannot reverse without hitting them.  I go forward and then manage to turn and reverse.

John: Why did you do that?

Me: (between gritted teeth) because otherwise I would have hit that car.

John: I know that.  I mean why didn't you just carry on going  forward and then do a U-turn back onto the road?

I can see why Sian always comes back with a long face after driving lessons with John.  Thank goodness I am going to my meditation group this evening.

August 18

 I have hit a low spot.  Despite the failure of the recently planned protests against the government, there has been a huge crack down on the opposition country-wide. The journalist who uncovered massive corruption within the government and was able to name exactly who was involved and how much money had been taken, is still in prison and his bail hearing is continuously postponed.  It is quite incredible that one of the ministers he exposed stole millions of dollars meant to go towards combating and treating the  coronavirus.  He is out on US$2000 bail, which no doubt he paid for out of the looted funds.  Chances are he will never stand trial.

I don't think I am alone in feeling I would like to do something a little more proactive than just reposting pictures of the journalist being led away into the cells on Facebook. The question is, what does one do? My heart goes out to this man, who really may never see freedom again, because here are the rest of us just going about our usual day.

I often feel my blog is too 'middle class' for want of a better description.  Perhaps I should be out, recording every single that is wrong or at least making more of a political protest. Writing about the difficulties of getting tuna fish or how I have to go and meet someone in a car park to buy a bottle of whisky is hardly highlighting the extreme poverty that the majority of the population live in here.

However, that is not why I began writing the blog.  It was originally to record the highs and lows of trying to run a B&B in Zimbabwe: some of our funnier and more trying moments.  I don't want to write too much about politics because I don't want to give it too much power over me.  It's not about ignoring it and living in a bubble, but not centring on it  and letting it control you.

I still feel useless though.  The outside world is not at all interested and some initial support for the Zimbabwean Lives Matter appeal from various well-known Afro-Americans seems to have dwindled into nothing.  It is unfortunate that in Western eyes, Africa is a collective failure.  It is even more unfortunate that African leaders are never taken to task and held responsible for this failure. Everything and everyone else is at fault from colonisation to famines, cyclones, Western indifference, poverty . . . the list is endless.  The West feeds this narrative by continuing to give aid even if they KNOW it does not go to the people who need it most.

It is also a sad fact that whilst movements such as Black Lives Matter will call on Western governments to address matters of racial inequality and injustice, they will turn a blind eye to Africa where far more horrendous acts are committed. If black lives matter, as of course they do, then they must matter whether you are in New York or Harare, Berlin or Lagos.  It's time to take Africa seriously.

August 17

The water did not come back on last night.  This is due to the theft of electricity cables so the water cannot be pumped from the dams.

Our guests leave around mid-morning.  I envy the fact that they are on holiday.

John goes off shopping for the week dressed, as usual, in his torn shorts and holey jumper.  John thinks that wearing anything that doesn't look like it is about to disintegrate is very nouveau riche. John was at Food Lover's a few years ago when we were still using coins.  He was determined to get rid of a whole lot of change and so insisted on counting out every single coin he had.  The lady behind him in the queue obviously felt sorry for him and, thinking he did not have enough money for his groceries, offered to pay for him.  That was one of my mother's favourite stories - she could hardly breathe, she laughed so much when I told her.

The man who turned up last night looking for somewhere for his girlfriend to stay, does not appear.  At nine o'clock in the evening, he sends a message saying he has been working all day and is now free.  Can he come around?

No.

August 15

 

Shock.  Horror.  We have a booking for tonight on Airbnb.  First of all it is just an inquiry and we half expect the same thing to happen as before - that the person booking will try and bypass the system and see if they can book privately.  However, they don't. They book.

The cottage is all ready, but we go and give it a dusting and sweep the floors and put new flowers in the vase.  The guests arrive at 5pm.  They are a couple from Harare with their teenage daughter and are on the way to Victoria Falls for the weekend.  

It is a sad fact that most Zimbabweans cannot afford to visit tourist attractions within Zimbabwe unless they are camping or staying at budget hotels and B&Bs.  So many hotels and resorts aim to attract the foreign tourist who is able to pay far more. There used to be a two tier system, but apparently it was done away with as tourists did not feel it was fair.

Now that we have zero foreign tourists, all the luxury safari camps and lodges are vying for what local business there is.  Specials abound.  Some people have been quite understandably angry about this.  Of course, once our borders are open again, we will be forgotten about again. For the moment though, those who can, like this family, are experiencing what they can at a more affordable rate.

Around half past six in the evening, a car arrives at the gate and hoots.  I don't like going down to the gate at night because I have no idea of who is there.  The car has lots of lights and bears some resemblance to Kit from Knight Rider, except that, if it was, it would have turbo boosted itself over the gate by now.

For once I am quite glad that Rolo is throwing himself at the gate in a very vicious manner. However, the man at the gate is very polite and friendly.  He is looking for a short term let for his girlfriend - from now until the end of September.  I ask him to come back tomorrow so we can discuss the idea and he can have a look at the cottage.

August 14

 

Ellie is having a murder mystery dinner party this evening so, after my lesson, we go shopping. Ellie is sometimes not allowed in shops (due to the coronavirus) so we come up with a plan to get past the Temperature Taker Person and Hand Sanitizer Squirter.  While Sian and I are squirted and threatened with a thermometer, Ellie goes and waits for us by the trolleys.  We walk on and no one notices Ellie has joined us.  Really, I should have been a detective - now I have to get my kicks dodging PnP staff.

Ellie is convinced that she has been spotted and is waiting for the announcement over the loud speaker: 'Would the eleven year-old in the frozen food section, please leave the premises immediately.' I tell her to act as normal as possible.  The best advice my mother ever gave me was to 'act daft'.  It's amazing how much you can get away with by saying, 'Oh, I had no idea. So sorry.  Of course we will never do that again.'

I am so excited to spot tins of tuna that I do a little dance and wave the tin around in the air.  Sian is mortified at first but then she and Ellie find it funny. I don't think they would allow me to get away with it on a regular basis though.

Ellie's murder mystery goes well.  She uses a murder mystery game we have.  You invite people for dinner and they have to come dressed as their character. Everyone has prompts they have to follow in each round and it's open to you to develop the ideas given to you.  It's always great fun, if a little complicated at times. The girls all have a great time and I am impressed how they all get into character and play them well.  

August 13

I go to meet an historian friend of mine for coffee to discuss some of the historical aspects of the book I am writing.  I really want to get all the details right, especially as he tells me that many authors don't. The past is so very complex and it is easy to look back and reduce it to very simplistic terms. Of course here in Zimbabwe, the tendency is to see Rhodesia in a very negative light and focus exclusively on the black/white issue.  Such thinking really doesn't help one to understand life on a much deeper level.

I buy some flower seedlings at a nursery to put in an empty hanging basket.  There is this lovely scent of spring in the air, although there is still a cool wind.  

When I get home, I really want to dive right back into my writing, but I have so much marking to get through and exams to set. I spend part of the afternoon and evening marking, but it's still not done.  I look forward to the end of August and exams.

August 12

 

I have been reading The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie and one thing that really strikes me is where everyone knows where they were at a particular time.

Policeman: Where exactly where you when you heard the gunshot?

Mrs B: I was out in my garden.  The village clock had just chimed a quarter to six.

or:

Mr C: The milkman always delivers my milk at approximately twenty to six and I had just heard him place the bottles on my neighbour's front step so it must have been between five forty two and five forty four that I heard the gunshot.

Policeman: Not five forty five?

Mr C:  Oh, no.  By five forty-five, he was already across the street.

At supper, I ask everyone if they knew where they were at 3.45 this afternoon.  It's actually quite difficult to pinpoint exactly where we all were.  I am sure it would help if we had a village clock that chimed out every quarter of an hour, but even then I wonder if most people can recall where they were at an exact time during the day.  And alibis?  Well, that's even more difficult.

Sian and I can say we were at the stables between 2 and 3, but then I did not watch Sian the entire time.  If there had been a murder at the stables, could I have done it?  Could I have driven back to Bulawayo, committed a murder and then driven back to the stables and made it look as though I had been sitting in the car the whole time?

After horse riding,the plan is for me to drop Sian at some other stables where she does volunteer work while I go to yoga.  Sian is apprehensive as she doesn't know if she should go home to do some schoolwork instead.  She tosses a coin - it's heads which means she goes to the stables and I go to yoga.

During the class, the teacher mentions something about blocked energy and how we must let the chi flow unobstructed. I can't help thinking that chi spelt QI can get you 33 points on a triple word score in Scrabble.

August 11

Two nights ago, Elizabeth came up to the house in a panic and asked John to come down to her house to separate her two grandsons who were having an argument.  Her older grandson has been banned from the property after he got involved in a fight at Hillside shops and the police came her looking for him.  He is a heavy drinker and was once found by a neighbour, asleep in his garden.  Now he is an illegal gold dealer in Esigodeni.

Her other grandson did very well at school and left with A levels, but has been unable to find work.  We gave him some work to do in the garden which he clearly thought was below him.  He now sells firewood outside Hillside shops.  Unfortunately, he has also taken to drink - and very heavily.  A fight has broken out between the two brothers and the one who sells firewood has been hit on the head and is bleeding.

I was concerned that John might be attacked as well and was ready to call the police for assistance as all I could hear was shouting.  Eventually, John got the older grandson to leave and Elizabeth wanted to call an ambulance to take her other grandson to hospital, but we didn't think it would ever come.  Also. his injuries weren't actually that bad.

We have not seen Elizabeth since the incident and she now appears looking very meek.  It is all very heart-breaking.  Her grandson wants so much more in life and he thought he would get it through education, but now he is doing a job that the most uneducated person could do. Elizabeth is nearly eighty; there is nothing else she can give him, except a place to stay.  Her husband was a heavy drinker and so have all her sons been heavy drinkers.  One was killed by a car in South Africa and another was hit by a train - luckily he survived as the train was going very slowly and, probably, because he was so drunk.

August 10

Our Internet ran out a few days ago and we cannot renew it because the only way to renew it without going into the office, is to do it via Telone's webpage which usually comes up even when the Internet has run out, but is not doing that. Even if it did come up, we don't have any Ecocash to pay for it because our bank does not have the facility for us to transfer money from our account onto Ecocash and that is the only way you can pay online.

Having no internet is actually a great relief. It's so nice to have a break from staring at the screen.

August 9

It's a public holiday today and tomorrow.  Heroes Day and Armed Forces Day.  Because of the coronavirus, there will be none of the usual parades, speeches and fanfare.  I don't think anyone feels a great loss over this.  I remember those long speeches Mugabe used to give about the triumph over imperialism. Those were the days when we all watched ZBC and there was only one channel.  

I remember someone once asked my mum why white people didn't ever to go listen to Mugabe when he spoke at Heroes Acre or one of the big stadiums and her replying that it just wasn't in our culture.  And it isn't, at least not in British culture where public holidays are days to go off and have picnics or visit people.  I can't imagine many people going to listen to any British prime minister waffle on for hours about the past.

For some strange reason, it has been impossible to buy tuna since the lockdown began.  I have eventually given in and ordered two overpriced tins from a lady selling them, once again, from her house.  I meet her at her daughter's house where her family have gathered to have a braai.  I feel rather self-conscious as she goes off to get the tins while I stand on the edge of things, making small talk with the family who offer me a seat, but I decline on the grounds that I am just trying to keep my distance, but really I feel quite awkward barging in on their family time.

We are so excited to have tuna pasta for supper.  It is one of my favourite meals, particularly as it is so easy to prepare.

August 8

I have been wondering about the appeal of series such as Call the Midwife.  It seems that 'period dramas' are the in thing at the moment.  A friend of mine says there is a tendency to glamourise the past and make it look too squeaky clean and good fun.  I know John always criticises the fact that buses and cars are always spotless and says they should dirty them a bit so they don't look like they've been driven out of a museum.  I suppose it is the same with the characters and the plot.

However, this idea of looking to the past for inspiration appears to be there in books as well as films.  Both Sian and Ellie are currently reading books set in the 1930s and 1920s respectively.  I have to admit that I don't have much time for current literature.  I tire of the need for current authors to always be completely original and 'rule-breaking' in their approach.  I know, I'll write a book with no full stops or with every Second word Capitalised.  Ground breaking stuff.

To get back to the sudden surge in television series set in a different age, I think, ironically, it's not only the glamour that attracts us, but also the rules that governed society.  Today, we live in an age where everything goes.  You can go to dinner at an expensive restaurant wearing jeans and a T-shirt (if asked to leave, you can claim you have every right and shouldn't be discriminated against) and whether you have table manners is by the by.  So it is nice to enter an age when there were certain, often unspoken, rules about dress and behaviour.

It's the lack of consumerism that we also find refreshing.  We see young girls saving to buy a dress or nail polish and not using credit cards to buy things they don't need or thoughtlessly throwing the things away when they don't want them any more.

It's the pace of life, too, the quiet.  It's the sense of wonder people had in a world where not many people had travelled very far. It's that feeling when the series has come to an end, when you feel, despite all the progress that has been made in terms of technology your life lacks something.  Could it  possibly be a landline?

August 7

 

My dad has been extremely grumpy.  Extremely.  Because of the lockdown and the virus, he doesn't go out as much as he used to and I think it is having an adverse psychological effect on him.  After my lesson this morning, I offer to take him out for a cup of coffee.  Sian and Ellie are keen to come as well so we all set for the cafe.

Once we are there though, Dad's initial bloom of happiness appears to fade.  

'Why are we here?'

'We've come out for a cup of coffee.'

'Who goes out for a cup of coffee?'

'We do.'

'Ridiculous.'

Sian gives me a look that says 'don't respond.'

My dad suffers from depression.  It has worsened considerably in the last ten years, but even looking back on my childhood, I now see signs of it.  We just didn't recognise it as depression then and assumed without thinking that it was part of his personality.

It is hard dealing with him when he is in one of these moods. Depression is often under-estimated. People think of it as something one can snap out of.  You just have to jolly yourself along and you'll be OK.  But real depression is a real problem and sufferers spend years of their lives fighting it.

It's hard on those who have to live with people who suffer from depression. It's very, very difficult indeed and I honestly think there should be support groups for families as there are support groups for people related to alcoholics.

Anyway, it's amazing what a bowl of ice cream and chocolate sauce can do and we all leave the cafe in a better mood.

August 6

 

After months of Sian and Ellie ragging me about doing yoga and meditation, there is a sudden turn around as they decide to give both a go.  This is largely due to Sian downloading some sort of exercise app on her phone which includes yoga.  She admits that she used to think it was easy but finds many of the exercises quite a challenge.  

There is quite a big difference between the yoga I do and the ones on Sian's app. I concentrate on stretching and holding a pose for a certain amount of time, but the guy on Sian's app makes yoga look like one of those awful exercise classes held at gyms.  They are the kind of thing I detest.  First of all, the man is all wrong.  He is wearing that tight spandex that accentuates all his muscles and curves and he looks far too energetic in a frenetic sort of way.  Yoga instructors should always look peaceful and laid back.  

They say things like: 'Now, breathe into Warrior I and hold.' They do not say: 'From camel, move into downward dog and then into mountain.  You have three seconds to complete this challenge. C'mon!  I know you can do it. Three seconds, two seconds, one second . . . and back into camel.' No, they do not leap from one pose to another or make you feel like you are facing the greatest physical challenge of your life.

When I was at high school, I chose to do something called 'Dancersize' as my afternoon activity.  It still makes me cringe to think of it.  A couple of prefects ran it and they were very strict and made us do all this leaping about that I could never get right because if they raised their left hand, I raised my right one and, if everyone was kicking their legs in one direction, I was kicking in the other. One of the funniest memories I have is one of the prefects barking: 'Bryony, we've changed the exercise now.' I was in a complete day dream and hadn't realised that I was doing one thing while everyone was doing something completely different.

I prefer my yoga.

August 5

Last week we received a booking for tonight for two people on booking.com.  We wrote to them to confirm the booking and ask what time they would be arriving, but did not get a reply. Zimbabweans of all races and all walks of life are notoriously unreliable.  Sorry, fellow people, but let's be honest, you are.

One of the main reasons I feel a sense of trepidation when I see a local has booked is that we can never be certain whether they will turn up or not.  This is one of the advantages of Airbnb over booking.com: Airbnb asks you to pay when you book, booking.com gives you the option of paying on arrival.  It is probably for this reason that most Zimabweans don't use Airbnb.

I send the couple a message on whatsapp and finally get an answer. They are not coming (surprise, surprise) as someone at the woman's work has tested positive for COVID-19 so they thought it was best to not travel. 

Hmm. I don't think so.  If they were so concerned, they would have let us know without us having to contact them.  I think the coronavirus is going to be the basis of many excuses in the months to come.

However, I send a message saying I hope they are all well and can stay at another date.

I receive in return: 'Owk. Thx.'

August 4

 

It is time to buy Sian new riding boots.  She has been wearing the same boots for the last five years and they are literally falling apart at the seams.  However, where does one buy riding boots in Bulawayo during lockdown?

This is where the Bulawayo grapevine comes in useful.  Sian's riding instructor gives us the name and number of someone who sells riding gear.  We message her, but she doesn't have anything.  However, she gives us the number of someone else who does have a pair of size six boots.  We go to her house on the way to the stables.  The boots are second hand but in good condition so we buy them.

So many people are selling things from home and either undercutting shop prices or providing things not available in them.    Every day I get whatsapp messages about everything from cheese and eggs to trousers and second hand jerseys. It can be overwhelming but at times like this the network does come in useful.

August 3

John goes off to do the week's shopping. He always comes back in a bad temper and I really don't blame him.  If it's not ridiculous prices and ridiculous driving, it's all the things that don't work: the card that's offline or the transactions that won't go through.  It is still almost impossible to get cash out of a bank and now things are made more difficult by the government clamping down on Ecocash.

Ellie thought school was starting back today and has been awake since 6am.  Now she finds out that it only starts tomorrow.

We have a Facebook page for our cottage and recently it has received a huge amount of likes.  I get the feeling that we are being promoted on some page somewhere that we have no idea about.  I have not updated the Facebook page for a long time as most of our bookings don't seem to come this way, but maybe I should.

A person contacts me through the page asking what are prices are and if we are free this evening.  I ask him to confirm with me if he is coming or not and he then takes my telephone number and that is it.  Around five o'clock, I receive a phone call from the same man saying he is on his way - he is just down the road.  

Suddenly, it's panic stations.  John and I run around, putting flowers into a vase, sweeping the floor, dusting the furniture.  A car arrives at the gate and John is just going down to let it in when it drives off.  That's it.  No message, no phone call, no apology.

The only thing we can think is that Rolo, who had run to the gate, barking madly as he does when someone arrives, managed to put him off.  Wouldn't it be nice to have just been told?

August 2

Ever since I decided not to do any work on a Sunday, I have been a lot happier.  I would definitely recommend it as we all need a break sometimes. Online teaching is so much more concentrated and demanding as well and so it is very important to have a break from it.

This means that I am free to do things such as wash the car.  People with gardeners who wash the car once or twice a week or people who take their cars to be washed, will never understand the ordeal of washing their cars. In Zambia, everyone was obsessed with washing their cars.  The man opposite us in Ndola had his car washed at least twice a day - and I think he only drove down the road to work.  However, here in Bulawayo we are much more constrained by a lack of water to indulge in such excesses.

Washing the outside of the car is such a futile thing to do in so many ways as the very next day it is covered with dust again.  Still, there is something very satisfying in throwing numerous buckets of water over it and getting rid of some of the dust.  Then there's the inside to do.  I hoover the car inside and wipe down the dashboard, gear stick, steering wheel and all the handles and buttons.  I'm going to get fanatical, I know.  I'm going to end up as one of those people who put plastic covers on their car seats or maybe I'll make everyone sit on the floor.

There is something curiously satisfying and relaxing about doing mundane jobs and it's interesting how many ideas pop into my head whilst I am polishing the windows or hoovering the seats; far more ideas than when I sit at my desk, staring into space.

August 1

 

On Saturdays I no longer have a lie-in as I have an extra lesson at 8.30. Unfortunately, with our cottage not being occupied, I need to do extra lessons to boost our income.  Today I have a brother and sister who come at the same time.  They are quite good fun and get involved in the lesson.  One of the worst things is sitting with someone who doesn't say a word for a whole hour or who just says 'I don't know'.

As they are leaving, for some reason we get chatting about drugs in Bulawayo and whether there is  widespread use of them in schools.  Both students insist that there is but, the boy then adds, there is also a big problem with drugs amongst the older community and it's not just the odd case of smoking what my mum used to refer to as 'funny fags'.  It's cocaine, LSD, heroin, the lot.

'These older people - even parents,' he says, giving me a long knowing look. 'It's shocking what goes on and it's people you'd never think would touch the stuff.'

I feel certain this last comment is aimed at me, but to be honest, I hardly drink alcohol anymore never mind anything else.  I would hate to be addicted to anything, especially anything that sent me off into hallucinatory states.  Although Sian and Ellie always tease me about the amount of tea that I drink, I don't feel it's quite on the level of crack cocaine.

I am happy with my life.  As I said the other day, I am very glad to be out of the drinking, partying, night club stage and am very, very happy that the highlight of my week is watching two episodes of Call the Midwife back to back.

John goes out with a friend to look for Citroen parts.  He says town is quiet but 'normal'.  The police at roadblocks are very laid back and wave everyone through.

Friday 31 July

 As we thought, nothing much happens.  I keep checking the news to see if State House has been stormed or if the government has fled in terror of the opposition, but it hasn’t happened.

The Internet is slow and students complain that they can’t send work.

People say that nothing happened today because the army was called out.  Well, didn’t the opposition know that was going to happen? If I was planning this, I would at least think: ‘Right, now, if they bring out the army, what will we do?’  That might be quite high up on the agenda.

It is far more likely that the government’s heavy handed response to today’s shutdown is more to do with a suspected coup within the party that any real fear the opposition may achieve anything. 

Thursday 30 July

 

Because of tomorrow's planned shut down, John goes off shopping this morning.  He comes back saying town is exactly the same as usual and he found the police very laid back and not too bothered about stopping people.

By afternoon, people on Facebook are saying that the army has come in and cleared everyone early, forcing shops and businesses to close.  It’s sometimes very difficult to gauge what is going on.  T is possible to go into town and not see very much to alarm you, but in a different part of town at a different time of day, it is a different story.

It is hard to escape a feeling of trepidation about tomorrow.  The opposition in Zimbabwe is really quite useless and has not achieved much over the last few years. People say that everyone is afraid, but I wonder sometimes if there is more to it than that.

Here is an example of a typical Zimbabwean response to a ‘problem’: a friend of mine was telling me how everyone had been given extra responsibilities at work with the result that she struggled to get her main job done to her usual high standard every day.  Eventually,  she and two colleagues who felt the same way, wrote a letter of complaint to their boss. The situation did not get better; it got worse and all three of them felt victimised.  One day, another colleague asked her what was wrong and she explained how all the extra responsibilities were too much.  The colleague listened and then burst into laughter.  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘do what I do.  Nod your head, say ‘yes, sir, no, sir’ and then do your own thing.  No one will ever know.  The boss never checks on anything.  It’s all talk.’

This is Zimbabwe for you: stop at roadblocks, pay bribes, know that ultimately you are a cog within a wheel, but use it to your own advantage.  Make a plan. To go out and protest is futile.  You know that and they know that.  Better to sell US dollars on the side of the road or become a runner, selling South African goods.  Nothing is ever going to change so make the situation work for you.

We receive a booking for next week.

July 29

I'm discovering that, after a morning of online teaching and sitting in one place for a long time (a good teacher never sits during lessons, by the way!) I need some sort of relief and find this in gardening.  I really look forward to breaktime when I can wonder around with my cup of tea, picking off dead leaves and talking to my plants.

I keep meaning to get a proper compost heap going, but our lack of water does not help in this regard.  We do have a place where all the organic 'rubbish' is put but that it is about it.  There is no layering of soil and watering it once a week.  A couple of years ago, we did a walking tour of Makokoba, the oldest high density suburb in Bulawayo.  There was a lady there who was growing the most wonderful vegetables in old car tyres and she just piled all her peelings, banana skins and the like around each plant.  I am now doing the same.  Despite hearing my mother's voice telling me that orange and lemon peel should not be put in the compost unless it is cut up very small, I take a whole lot of old bits of fruit and vegetables and skins and dig them into a bed in which I am going to plant cherry tomatoes. 

Sian is much better today, although she still feels quite weak.  However, she is determined not to miss her horse riding lesson.  After the lesson, there is a very quick turn around as I am going to my meditation class and I also have to drop Sian and Ellie at a different stable where they work with the horses and donkeys.

The meditation is wonderful.  There is this beautiful vibration in the room and at one point I feel I am about to fall asleep, although I am very aware I am awake if that makes sense.  When I get back to the stables, I find that Sian and Ellie have taken some of the horses out for a walk on the golf course.  Time is getting on a bit and the curfew begins at six.  I probably don't need to take it very seriously as the police are not really concerned with this part of town.  Unfortunately in many ways, being in the more affluent part of Bulawayo does protect one from the atrocities carried out on a daily basis in Zimbabwe.

July 28

It's back to online school today.  I can't believe how much longer it takes to do things online.

Sian has not been feeling well for the last three days and, as she has symptoms of the coronavirus, I take her for a test in the afternoon.  The PCR test is very much like a malaria test, except that the results are more or less instant.  Sian's test is negative.

I have been trying to keep a couple of shrubs in the garden alive.  Two of them are Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, one of my favourites.  I love their beautiful scent, especially on warm summer evenings. I throw a bucket of old bath water on them a couple of times a week and so far they have managed to keep their leaves, although they are a little droopy.  Unfortunately, it doesn't look as though our jasmine will flower this year.  I don't think it received enough water in the rainy season.

Jasmine is one of those difficult plants though.  Where my sister lives in Marondera, jasmine grows everywhere, even in places where it is obviously not watered regularly.  I took jasmine back with us to Zambia twice and, although it didn't die, it didn't flower either, and there is plenty of rain there.  Maybe it's just me.

July 27

John has found his bank card - in the pocket of his shorts that have been returned to his cupboard, washed and neatly ironed.  The card is in a rather sad state but, ever optimistic, John wraps a piece of masking tape round it and says he is sure it will still work.

Off he goes shopping, leaving me to various Zoom meetings before the resumption of online school tomorrow.  When he returns, it is with the news that the card does still work, although some cashiers were rather hesitant to accept it.

Late morning, a man arrives wearing a white lab coat.

'There's someone here,' calls Sian. 'I think he's a scientist.'

She then notices that he is wearing socks with sandals and calls out: 'A German scientist.'

It turns out the man is neither German nor a scientist.  He wears this protective coat to shield him from the coronavirus.  Apparently, he also has a sort of gas mask that he wears in his car.  There is no accounting for the socks with sandals.

He is a friend of John's from the stamp club who has come to look for a few stamps and magazines.  Much to my horror, last year John offered to look after the stamp club's 'library', without realising how many books and magazines they owned.  It is all currently in boxes on our back veranda, blocking the flow of good energy through the house.

Ellie has now decided to go retro as well and has asked that for her birthday next year, we buy her a landline.

July 26

Today is a wonderful day.  There is no particular reason it is a wonderful day - it just is.  It's getting warmer which is great as the winter has seemed to have dragged on and on.  A few weeks ago, I made a promise to myself not to do any work on a Sunday.  It is very easy to fall into a trap of spending the afternoon marking or preparing work and I am just not going to do it.  I would rather spend the time during the week making sure that everything is done so that I can have one day when I don't do anything.

Instead, I spend the day doing my favourite things: I water all my pot plants (and talk to them) and then I sit and read a book.  It's wonderful.  I love that feeling of 'just one more chapter', that real delight in reading, rather than a feeling that I have to read.

I really believe there is much to be gained from relaxing and just spending the day doing what you want. There is always so much to do, so much to organise and complete and sometimes it is nice to just push all that aside and say, 'Wait!'.

July 25

At breakfast, John asks me if I mind him going to a stamp club meeting this afternoon.  This is one of John's nerdy activities, but I have no objection.  I used to enjoy collecting stamps when I was a child and learned quite a lot about different places in the world, like what currencies they used and what was important to them.. I always remember finding out the Helvecia was the Swiss name for Switzerland. John has a look at his phone to confirm that the meeting is at a friend's house and discovers that the meeting is not this afternoon, but this morning and has already begun.  

As John has missed the meeting, he decides to go and help a friend with his car.  It is an old Citroen that is being rebuilt.  If John has his way, our garden would be full of old wrecks just needing a 'little' work before they can get back on the road.  As it is, he only has an old Panther motorbike in pieces in the garage.

I decide to make a cheesecake.  Earlier in the week, I made cream cheese by straining two packets of Masi (cultured milk) through a piece of cheesecloth. It is so much cheaper than buying cream cheese from the supermarket and is much tastier.  Instead of cream, I use Lacto (sour milk) and instead of creme fraiche, I use a double thick yoghurt.  The cheesecake is perfect, except for the fact that when I take it out the tin, it falls over to one side.

When I was at high school, I had a Science teacher whose experiments never worked out.  When we wrote up the notes afterwards, we always had to write: If this experiment had worked, the results would have been . . . It is the same with my cooking.

July 24

According to the precepts of Feng Shui, we should not have anything blocking our doors and windows as this way you block the flow of energy. Feeling we need a great gust of energy, I put an old blue carpet of ours, that has lain rolled up on the back veranda for about two years, on Bidding Wars at the beginning of the week.  

John was not convinced anyone would buy it and suggested we give it away, but I had no idea who to give it to and felt it would be easier to advertise it for sale and have someone come and fetch it.  I set a starting bid of $5 and, quite amazingly, it eventually went for $20. 

Today, a man comes to fetch it.  He has driven all the way from Gwanda to pick it up.  Gwanda is not that far away, but quite far when you consider the problems getting fuel, the roadblocks and the fact that the carpet is not in the best of conditions.  However, he is over the moon and happily rolls it up and puts it in the boot of his car.  When I ask him how he got through the roadblocks, he says he told the police he was going to see someone in hospital and they let him through.

With our ill-gotten gains, we go out for a cup of coffee.  Sian and Ellie have a milkshake.  The combination of an outing, a treat the fact that we got rid of the old blue carpet lifts all our spirits.  I go to sleep wondering what else we can get rid of.  The energy is already beginning to flow.

July 23

Today we receive a very odd enquiry through Airbnb. It comes from someone whose name is Cfghdj.  That on its own is cause for concern.  They tell us they would like to stay for two weeks in August, but could we contact them on their whatsapp number to discuss availability.  Because Airbnb automatically picks up if you have tried to bypass their system by giving out your phone number, they have carefully typed their number out in words and inserted all sorts of random words to try and avoid being caught.

Please contact me on forty number two and three and three, followed by seven and eight, and then six.  And so on.

We are immediately suspicious but send a message anyway, asking what they would like to discuss.  The whatsapp profile picture shows a very thin young woman with dyed blonde hair throwing her head back in laughter.

A couple of hours later, we get a reply from someone in Romania.  They tell us that they work in the travel industry and that a certain amount of money was set aside for travel to various countries this year, but this travel has been cancelled due to the virus. They suggest this plan: they will book to stay at our cottage for two weeks, but no one will actually come.  The business they work for will pay for the accommodation and we will keep half and give half to this person, Cfghdj.  No wonder they are throwing their head back in laughter.

We decline the offer.

July 22

The strain of the last few months is beginning to show in Sian and Ellie.  Don't get me wrong, they don't suffer from starvation or poverty; their lives are way better than so many other people.  But, at the end of the day, they are human.  They have spent the majority of the last few months at home and, although they have seen friends from time to time, it has not been the same as going to school.  They miss the day to day interaction with friends, class mates, teachers - even people they don't particularly like.

The further delay to schools opening and the recent imposure of a curfew have only added to a sense of 'nothing is happening'.  It's good to have plans, dates to look forward to, events to write in our diaries.  The blank page of the future can be quite daunting.  

On a Wednesday evening, I usually go to a meditation class, but because of the curfew it has been brought forward to the end of the afternoon.  The good news for Sian and Ellie is that I can drop them at the stables where they do a bit of work grooming horses and taking the miniature ponies out for some exercise. 

I really enjoy the meditation class because it reminds me to let go and just see the situation as one that will pass.  My mum got very angry with the government.  She would spend hours going through all the terrible things they had done and how they had ruined everybody's life.  I used to try and tell her not to take it all to heart because then they have ruined your peace of mind as well.  I don't think it was in her character to not get involved.  If she heard of children dying in Somalia, she took it very personally and tried to think of ways that she could help them.  If I told her of a friend going through a difficulty, she would be up half the night trying to think of the solution.  

I don't want to be like that - not because I don't care, but because I saw the damage that it did to her health.  I feel it is important to feel the gravity of a situation but also be able to distance yourself from it and somehow trust that the universe, God, whoever or whatever it is out there, will sort it out.

July 21

A 6am-6pm curfew is imposed.  Shops and businesses have to close by 3pm every day and the town centre must be clear by 6pm.  Of course the curfew is nothing to do with curbing the spread of the coronavirus and everything to do with curbing political dissent ahead of next week's planned stay away. There is some suggestion that the curfew is a way of closing shebeens (illegal bars) and parties, but no one is really convinced.  

Some people question why Zimbabweans aren't more concerned about the spread of the virus and I think it is because we believe that the precautions that have been put in place are nothing to do with protecting our health.  We do not believe that the government does anything to help us or out of any motivation to keep us safe.  We therefore view all restrictions with some suspicion.

I take Sian horse riding in the afternoon.  I really enjoy driving out to the stables and watching Sian ride.  I start reading an Agatha Christie novel, A Pocket Full of Rye. I remember watching the series with Joan Hickson playing Miss Marple when I was about 12.  My grandparents were living with us and watching a murder film was a family affair.  I always wanted a large family, but ours could not have been much smaller.  All of my dad's family lived in the UK and my grandparents were the only people here on my mum's side and they retired back to Wales not long after we watched A Pocket Full of Rye.  To me, Joan Hickson was the definitive Miss Marple; no other actress has quite captured her character.