HOW I MET ............... BENITA , STORK AND MY DEAREST FRIENDS PAULA AND JACOB DE JONG.

This was truely a journey into a world of unknown....I met ,  I learned  and I counted many friends . Almost all of them were very inspiring and they made me travel through magnificent undulations of ZIMBABWE in a viaduct to reveal the curious details of that country. ....and that transfigures and redeems all that has gone past ; was not really ordinary ,but, truely extraordinary !!!!

My husband and I , along with our five year old daughter landed in Zimbabwe in the middle of December,  1988. It was a long long flight from New-Delhi to Harare with a stop over at Nairobi. New Delhi was heavy with winter fogs ; we were to travel to the southern hemisphere . We were expecting a relief from the colder spell....Our heart beats were dancing in the first thrills of a new wonder ! We had read about the African continent.....a pouffe of potential reserve of diamonds , gold etc. My heart started pounding at the thought of flying over the countries like Kenya , Tanzania , Uganda, Rwanda , Zambia.....all the way ,  I was just pouting out stories to the little one , who was going to join and finish her junior grade in that country.

My husband was going there on a deputation to the National Railways of Zimbabwe initially for three years , but , it was to extend for two more years that was announced at the very outset. So, the family was flown over to give him an amorphous-dreamlike quality of life. A fully furnished beautiful cottage with a domestic help , a car , a telephone , child's free education...what else one needs for a good living I thought.....

As we came down the steps to the tarmac, I could hear my heart murmuring...Oh, at last I am standing in the land of Cecil John Rhodes...the British opportunist who after making his fortune in diamond fields in Kimberley came to this land in search of m-o-r-e ; he tricked and duped the then Ndebele king Lobengula , in signing an agreement to permit British mining and colonisation of the land between Limpopo valley and Zambezi Rivers. Soon he realised that he's been duped and he tried to recover the documents....I suddenly realised how important history and geography was for the first time in my life. All throughout my school ,  I'd  never paid any heed to these subjects...suddenly I craved for more...and more...and more.... Gosh, SALISBURY---the land of Ian Smith, Southern Rhodesia--Mashonaland--Matabeland--ZANU--ZAPU---Robert Mugabe.....!!!!!!!   I pinched myself  ...I could see goose-pimples all over my arms. The rapid fire nutrients were haunting me obdurately....sending chills down my spine.

We collected our baggage and were getting ready to finish the final lap , which was taking a domestic flight to BULAWAYO which was supposedly NRZ ' sHd Qrs.  Bulawayo is Zimbabwe's brightest and historically intriguing second city. It has a pleasant low-key atmosphere , tree-lined avenues , shady green parks and old colonial architecture.I said to myself.......so much to retrieve from this African Heritage in such a short span!!!!

The officer who came in to receive us at the airport took us to  SELBORNE HOTEL-- a smart and  a refurbished hotel located at the corner of Leopold Takawira Avenue and George Silundika Avenue. He said  , we should stay back for the night there and would be taken to our "home" the next day. Grossly tired and engulfed in the jet lag I was happy that at least the beds would be done and my inaugural ' grinding ' could wait for one more day. My daughter dozed off tired , cranky and hungry . Both of us felt that it was better not to force her to have anything that night. We tried to munch something..but, it was fatigue,insomnia, disorientation , anxiety ,impaired concentration induced terrible lack of appetite. We had some coffee and decided to retire.

But, me with my scorpion intriguing nature could not rest. There was a loud noise coming from the neighbourhood.I tried to peep through my bathroom window.....a cafeteria .....no, a pub ! It was serving "Chibuku"----locals say "its-a-beer-of-good-cheer".Brewed from indigenous yeast , millet , sorghum and mealies and served in paper cartons (called shake-shake) or in plastic bottles. Its drunk basically by the high-density township beer halls. There are some good Zimbabwean wines also ; but of most interesting is their style of music.  (Its a life-time experience to attend a live African music performance).I told my husband "let's go and meet some of the 'locals'.....He agreed, we went down and that was our first interaction with the locals....polite , cultured, charming , friendly and welcoming.......such a wonderful bunch of people they were !

Next morning , Mr.Goodwill came in with the car and  solicitously handed over the house keys and said , " ....here are the keys to the house, this is the address....AND this is the MAP of the town.....   you may go home and join us after lunch...." I goggled at the address, it said  , 9, KEATS CRESCENT, Malindela. I sheepishly said "oh, is that  poet Mr. Keats?" He shunted me aside, I realised that he was under a terrible stress....completely shrouded in darkness....he has to drive the family home ...a home , unknown...undestined....through unwieldy roads. So, I was rather being too selfish and unsympathetic I thought and decided to sit quietly  next to him in the car...I.have major geographical problems ; hence tried to stay calm till we reached MALINDELA. Wow, what an area? Posh....My husband quipped , concentrate on the  sign boards---the lanes of malindela are marked with the poets' names all around....Burns drive,  Frost avenue...his face wreathed in smiles! 

We reached home......he wrenched open the door and we were awestruck. It was like seeing a few fresh leaves uncurled overnight ....delicate , moist and vulnerable..... For a while,  I looked at the corner of the window ledge. It was so clean....we went around the house , up and down , touching furnitures, curtains ,plates.......thought of setting up the kitchen gave me a feeling of .....can't say....homesick.....suddenly I heard , "Good afternoon medaam". I looked back and there was this young girl...black, short , pointy breasts looking at me. She introduced herself as "Benita Chiwango". The hangover was killing...I shook hands and thought of making a cup of tea for myself. Benita volunteered, I could see ....I was an owner of infinite fortune in this house-hold......But again  I wondered ,  is it that I was getting so wrapped up in the woes of my country that I am forgetting  to yearn for home / to see my family again ?

As we were settling down.....I found a couple walking down our pathway with a tray , covered with a tray cloth.She came in and stood by the door and slightly out of breath. She was about 6 feet tall, a true Brit....her husband a Dutch, an engineer by profession settled in Zimbabwe. After a small exchange of notes....I discovered , they were our next door neighbours.....Paula and Jacob DE JONG with four children. ...They were the power house of our energy and strength ....they walked with us steadily throughtout our stay ...stopped when it drizzled ...again headed up the path....Showed us Zimbabwe ...Victoria Falls , Hwange National Park , Matopos , mighty river Zambezi...We so comfortably had placed all our weights on the soles of De jongs and never ever felt that perhaps it was not right......We made their friends ours...their grief ours...their festival ours!!!! Our stay would never had been so comfortable ,had they been not around.....we owe a great deal to them!!

Our aquaintance with Stork was extremely queer. Zimbabwe was going through a bad patch of "draught"....water supply was rationed and our so called manicured garden was taking an awful shape.There was a round , grassless patch in the middle of the lawn which according to Benita was the hot spot for the evil spirits!!! Plants not bearing fruits any more.....leaves falling ....tiniest spot outside the garden looked so dry and pathetic. This old man in his seventies comes in oneday  with a "shake shake" (local beer); .We were sitting in the balcony and found him examining our cottage from every corner of our house. My husband went up to him and asked what his problem was....Stork beamed , as if this was exactly the question he had wanted , and started talking about his gardening skills etc. We wanted somebody  very badly to clean up our garden, so he was appointed on a contract  and was promised  20 Zim dollars for half a day ( which was according to the wage rule) and an afternoon meal. Slowly this old man started working but, his alchoholic habit kept him extremely irregular and erratic.At times he would sleep on the road and spend the night. We started feeling miserable , and didnot know what to do with him. Oneday, a cop called us up from the hospital saying that ,  Stork  had an accident and while disclosing the details he had given our reference. My husband ran.....sure enough ,he was brought back and made to stay at the backyard......This was the beginning of Stork's life into ours......Once in a while he would disappear...next day he would slip in quietly ....his face looked haggard and worn with the sleeplessness or  from something more , which , none of us could read.It is the instinctive nature of a man to look for a surrogate father , he found that in my husband.....At times, I would scream and yell at my husband for spoiling him....But then oneday he said ....."....it feels good for these old bones..he is like my son, very much like my son ".
I BECAME QUIET, STILL....SPELLBOUND !!!!!!!!!!!!!!