Imire Weekend

While the house was being fumigated a couple of weeks ago, we took a day trip (that turned into an overnight trip) to a private game reserve called Imire that is only an hour and a half away. We were so engrossed in our podcast that we didn’t remember we'd made one of the two turns it took to get there. That added another 2 hours to the trip (yikes!), and we were so frazzled and late we decided to just stay the night at the lodge, which was a great idea. Imiri isn’t the fanciest place, but the 4500 acres of hills and savannah and lakes are beautiful, and the service and company were great. We stayed in the family suite that was in the main house, and there were four other thatched roof rooms around the garden. As everywhere in this country, life is spent mostly outside. The breakfast tables were under the canopy of trees on the wide lawn, and there was a stone terrace area for dinner with a big fire pit and bar. The camp is protected by a high wire fence, and that night in the pitch black when David was lying on the lawn and looking up at the stars, he was startled half to death by a herd of wildebeest that had silently crept up on the other side of the fence. First he heard a loud snort, and when he sat up, they stampeded off with his feeling that no fence could keep them from trampling him. That got his heart racing! We took a couple of trips out each day with the people who were staying at the camp. First day was a lunch by the river where a family of elephants joined us. Of course, Eliza was thrilled about the baby elephant.

We didn’t have to worry about the cow elephant being too protective of her calf because they are used to being around people. The park employees would put out food to bring them closer to us, and some of the elephants could even be ridden. Although we didn’t do the elephant ride, another expat family did (from a different African country). They were there celebrating the 7th birthday of their son who happened to go to Miles’s school. Back at the camp we got to know another family: a woman around my age who was pregnant and with her 2-year-old and her parents (Sue and Arthur) who used to be farmers in Mutare (eastern Zim city) but were kicked off their farm just last year. I had read When the Crocodile Eats the Sun by Peter Godwin which is a memoir that touches on the experience of white Zimbabweans in the last decade. Sue confirmed the accuracy of the portrayal of the situation, and later as we watched the sun set over the water from a viewing platform, we had an interesting conversation about raising children in Zimbabwe. Apparently “sundowners” (with drinks) are a staple of the safari scene. The next morning, I went on a walk with the Zimbabwean family and a guide, as well as a guy working with the American embassy. It was my favorite part of the trip. They knew a lot about the local birds and were good at sighting them. We also saw herds of wildebeest, zebra, antelope, and buffalo (from a distance!) with an elephant who thinks she’s a buffalo since she was raised with them. Later at lunch we got to touch her under protection of the park staff. Her trunk was prickly with sparse, longish hairs and was intimidating in strength and agility. They do use them to pull down trees, you know. There was also an enclosed pond with an enormous crocodile that was hands down the ugliest, scariest creature I have ever seen. It was much bigger an alligator, probably four feet wide and twenty feet long, and the speed with which it launched itself out of the water to scarf down a huge chunk of meat thrown to it was horrifying. (BTW, if you’re ever inside a crocodile’s mouth, punch or kick its inner throat because instead of a tongue, it has a flap that if opened will let water rush in choking it as it tries to pull you under.)

For Barbara

This blog is dedicated to our Barbara who as of a couple of short weeks ago is in a tough fight against a sudden diagnosis of the big C. Barbara is David’s dad’s better half and an important part of our family. We hope you’re healed soon and feeling better, and we wish we could be there! We love you, Miles, Eliza, Kate and David

I’m typing as Miles is lying feverish next to me. Just a fever. Nothing like that ugly thing he had the second week after we arrived here. Poor Miles. I have a theory that his growth spurt is so taxing on the body it is making him more vulnerable to the attack of the flu bug. It’s just one week since school started, and things have been looking much better than on Day 1.

Briefly to follow up that blog: the teacher – parent – student counselor meeting three days after school started was…well, I almost want to say sublime. Suffice to say, after a thorough unrushed hour-long discussion, I had to hold back tears of appreciation. Granted, I usually start off giving people the benefit of the doubt. But it is certainly evident that we are dealing with a much better prepared school that I believe will be a much better learning environment for our children than we’ve seen before. Hooray.

I am revamping efforts to weasel my way into enrolling Eliza at HIS. Long story short, there’s no room for her in EC1. However, they are just about to open another EC2 (like pre-K 4). Eliza misses the EC2 age cut off by 11 days. I’ve proposed putting her into that new EC2 class until the “summer” break, then just letting her repeat EC2. Cross your fingers!...(the Montessori school I’ve enrolled her in is not all I’d hoped for…) (Update: she was refused. Back to the drawing board.)

Back to where Miles and I are…on the floor, as per the norm this last month. The kids are using air mattresses now. We got rid of the other mattresses we bought here that may not may not have been part of the flea problem. (BTW, the fleas sustained a major blow to their colony with a second visit from the exterminator, but the war isn’t over.) The shipment has not arrived with our things from the States. Apparently, it’s on the Mozambican border. Our accommodations inside the house include: 1) mattresses on floor, 2) bar stools at the bar and 3) children’s stolke high-chairs. Outside, we have the much decayed and frayed wicker lounge set left behind by the previous renters. (If we forget to remove the cushions at night, the dog sleeps there. Nothing like bringing the breakfast out to the ONLY place we can sit and seeing it newly shedded upon and possibly re-infested with fleas. Doh!!)

That said, today is another glorious day in Harare. The air was cool this morning and a coolish breeze has kept up all day to balance out the heat of the bright sun. The birds are twittering and everywhere the tall trees are moving magnificently in the breeze.

Don't worry, everyone...once we get our living situation sorted...you're going to love it here!

$5 from the toothfairy

This photo was taken this weekend when we were at a private animal refuge estate. More photos of that to follow since I finally got my camera battery charger!!!

Forgotten Post...about Leaving Jordan

Miles and Eliza had their good-byes in Jordan. E had a tea party with the little girls in her playgroup, and she went over to her friend Rosa’s several times. She seemed to actually be sad about leaving her friend. She understands more than I was giving her credit for at this age. We even called Rosa on the phone the night before we left. It was very sweet and sad.

Miles also spent more time with his old friend Telmo. They had been at the same school in the first term when we arrived, and it was a shame that we didn’t send them to the same school after that. Miles didn’t have as good a boy friend after that, and I think that contributed to his not settling in as well at Hill House. He was good friends with Maria, but she (Falastine’s family) left Amman 6 months before we did. And although they still plan to get married when they grow up, their very different interests at this age made them less compatible as playmates. In sum, Miles was actually happy to leave Amman…which I thought sad considering we were there for two years.

Neither of the kids was happy about leaving Fe, though. That was the hardest part, as anticipated. She started crying as she helped buckle them into their car-seats, and this set off Miles crying, too. For the first time in his life, I think he really understood what it meant to leave, to possibly never see her again. She loved the kids, and they loved her. They cheered when she came to the house every day. She always made things fun for them, and she contributed warmth, calm, predictability and obviously order to our home. We were all very sad to say good-bye. We’re keeping in touch with her by email and phone, and it looks like she’s going to have seamless employment. She has lots of choices of employment since everyone knew how lucky we were to have her.

First Day of School

Part 1: Early Morning Crisis

5:30 a.m. the phone alarm goes off. I’m already awake. The white light of dawn is filling the room since I’d left the curtains open for just that purpose. We’re all on the mattresses on the floor: me, Miles and Eliza. David’s out of town. Eliza’s been crawling into our bed in the middle of the night most nights since we moved to “the big house.” Miles has been in our bed all night the last two nights, unable to fall asleep on his own and with no Daddy around with the patience to lie down with him on his little mattress.

I hate to use the term, but we have what’s called a “rape gate” that blocks off the upstairs bedrooms from the rest of the house. D asked me to get a padlock for it, and we’ve been locking it at night. The owners of the house installed this and other security measures (electric fence, night guards, alarm system, etc.) during war times, I suppose. It’s typical of most houses here, though you don’t hear of any more security incidents than you’d find in, say, Chattanooga, TN.

I head downstairs to make coffee. Halfway down, I drop the key. It bounces through the bars of the gate, down four more steps and into the hall far out of reach. I sit down on the steps.

Tari, the housekeeper, lives in the guest cottage next door. It’s really early, but I figure she’s my only hope. I call her. She’s quick to head over. She’s got a key to the kitchen door. I hear her struggling to open it. OK. Stupid expat move #2: looks like I left my key in the door. Hmmm. I see her work her way around the house to check the sliding glass doors, but as I know, I locked the place up well. There are bars on all the downstairs windows, too.

I decide to wash my face and brush my teeth. I correctly surmise that I am not thinking well due to lack of coffee; however, the adrenalin has started pumping due to situation.

Aha, maybe there are more keys! Maybe D put them somewhere obvious like…yes!...the nail on the wall of the bathroom!

Part 2: Somethings Special

The night before Miles had discovered that he has his first loose tooth. We thought it auspicious that M would have his first loose tooth on his first day of school.

Secondly, on the way to school, at the intersection of Addington and Ridgeway North, Miles spotted two zebras behind a chain-link fence. We’d never seen that before, and that’s a road we take daily. Very cool.

Miles and Eliza were happy at their prospective drop-offs. (Note to David: We arrived at 7:23 a.m. It took us 18 min. to get there with no wrong turns; he was the second to arrive. It took another 10 min. to get to E’s school…with 4 wrong turns. Don’t worry, I’ve got it all mapped out now. Should only take 5 min. Regardless, she was second to arrive.)

Part 3: Mid-morning to Early Afternoon Crisis

Around 10 a.m. I came back to M’s school to submit some forms and look into volunteering opportunities. As I rolled on to the school grounds, I immediately spotted M’s water bottle under a tree, and yes, on the beautiful green lawn, there he was with his new classmates throwing frisbees! I parked at a distance to spy. He was interacting with another boy. It appeared as though they were actually trying to throw back and forth to each other. This was good. (I later discovered the “boy” to be a feisty, red-headed Eleanor with a posh English accent.) He was reprimanded for touching a big ball that they weren’t meant to play with – it sounded like he’d been warned a few times before. I didn’t hear any yelling or crying from M, though. That was…not bad. Eventually, I noticed Miles correctly try the back-hand instead of the “flick” that was just going to the ground. Ah, he listened and followed directions and the disk flew to his new friend! I moved on.

I stopped into the administration office. The door was open, but when I entered and saw Miles’s teacher in there, I had the distinct feeling I’d interrupted a conversation about a certain family member. Later, I figured the file in her lap was Miles’s (read: what’s the story on this boy?!). She had good things to say: “Was he using the same Oxford book at his last school or does he just have a very good memory? He was able to repeat the story verbatim after hearing another child read it out loud once.” On the down side: he was “testing her every chance he got” and showed her his “angry face” (see Stanley Kubrick films for dead ringer villainous expression…Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket…chin tucked in, eyes rolled up into head, growling under-bite).

On my way to the next building, I caught another glimpse of M. His whole class was under the tree and he was far away in the field by himself. That didn’t look good. I assumed he wasn’t coming in when called. (Later confirmed.)

After my meeting with the after school activities coordinator, I headed back to my car. M’s class was still outside. This time all the other kids were in the field, and M was under the tree by himself. Looked like a time out. Come to find out it was and that M was personally extending his own time-out because he was “so angry at the teacher” that he preferred wailing under the tree to joining his classmates on the field again. Sigh. According to M, he “cried all the way to computer class.” Then he pulled it together in order to further test his teacher for the rest of the day, including apparently a mild case of running away. We have our first parent/teacher/”student services” meeting on Friday!

Part 4: Small Mercies

Eliza has bitten holes in both sets of water wings we brought, and I’ve looked everywhere for replacements to no avail. It’s scary having non-swimmer and a pool. On the way home from school, on the very same intersection where we’d seen the zebras in the morning, there was a guy selling pool floats. He looked like a rainbow-colored Michelin man, covered from head to toe in rings and things. He had one set of PINK arm bands. Needless to say, we had a relaxing afternoon: the kids playing in the pool and yours truly having a much appreciated beer.