My, how time has flown. It seems like only yesterday, I arrived, tired and jet-lagged, onto the farm. I remember so many things from that first day – the dusty, scorched earth on the side of the road from the airport; being bombarded by Christoph and his love of Ben-10 at the airport; being dragged to a family birthday party and seeing the opulence and wealth that the whites have here; arriving on the farm at dusk and falling into bed that night.
And suddenly, I have only a week left on the farm.
There were so many times this year where I wanted nothing more than to leave. To leave this place, where racism is so pervasive, where I don’t fit in, where I don’t have friends, where I spend hours in the darkness without electricity or internet, and where I sometimes simply have too much time on my hands.
Yet, now that it’s almost time to go, I find myself wanting to hold onto my life here. If only for a.little.while.more.
What changed? Is it just a nostalgia, set in a little too soon? A fear of what will come next? Or is it that this place has become a sort of home, a place of comfort and contentment?
Whatever the reason, there are things I will certainly miss here – maybe even more than the things I WON’T miss!
I will miss my maid. Goodness – I haven’t had to clean my home in 10 months! So much time spent doing better things, and yet my home has remained sparkling clean, as if by magic! I thoroughly enjoyed making explosions in my kitchen and not worrying about the repercussions.
I’ll miss the beauty of the farm. The garden just outside my door, ever-carefully-tended, ever-changing blossoms. The hills dotting the horizon like newly-formed mounds on a blossoming pubescent girl. The nighttime stars, twinkling me to sleep with their lullaby lights. The jacaranda trees that I haven’t seen since November and wish I could see one more time. The cedar trees in one corner of the farm which I stare into so intently I somehow manage to bring myself back to Canada. And most of all, the dam – my own private meditation room, ever-inspiring, helping me to create rhythms on my guitar, to sing out loudly and without fear, and to work through the whirlwind of emotions I’ve had this year.
I’ll miss horseback riding. Massively. I actually don’t even want to talk about it, that’s how much I’ll miss it. For I know how blessed I was to have my own horse this year, a horse riding instructor, and a beautiful expanse in which to ride, free and fast, with the wind, sun, and rain beckoning me onwards, even when I fell.
I’ll miss the travel. How fortunate I have been this year to see London, Cape Town, France, Austria, India, Egypt, Mozambique, and of course, Zimbabwe. If it’s even possible, I think I fell in love with travel even more this year – I have certainly gained travel-confidence and my own style. I cannot place a high enough value on the experiences I’ve had, the people I’ve met, and the things I’ve learned from my travels. Priceless.
I’ll miss the little things here, too. Sitting in the pool reading for hours. Waving at the people in the compound –especially the kids – on my way to and from work. Jogging on my boss’ treadmill (first time in my LIFE I’ve enjoyed it). Playing board games with my neighbors. Saying hi to the gardeners and maids every morning. Trying to learn a few Shona words here and there. Blasting Zimbabwean music while driving to work. Having a garden next door from which to gain mealtime inspiration. The pizza at my boss’ house.
But most of all, I will miss Christoph. I know I haven’t spoken about him much on my blog. That was first and foremost to respect the privacy of Christoph and his family. But it was also, truthfully, because he was not the only focus of my days, as you can see from my list of all the things I will miss. Nonetheless, Christoph was the reason I came to Zimbabwe at all, and he was certainly the reason I stayed during those difficult moments. I am so proud of his accomplishments this year. He loves school so much, often telling me it’s his favorite part of the day. The progress he has made is astounding, and in most subjects he was easily completing grade 2 work. (whereas he couldn’t even recite his alphabet or numbers on the first day!) And even though sometimes he would daydream, or complete his work slower than cold molasses running uphill in the winter; even though sometimes he talked about Ben-10 one too many times or was late for school; despite it all, I still grew to love him. Christoph, I will miss you most of all. I don’t know if we will ever meet again, but I will certainly not forget you. I hope you will also remember me, your first teacher.
Alas, it is not time for tears or sadness. I have one week left on this farm, and I plan to enjoy it! North America, I’m coming soon! But not TOO soon
