I wake up at 5 in the morning. At 6, the school shuttle driver will drop me off to Masvingo. I will stay in Harare for a day or two and go to Kariba. He comes with a scrap truck. There are 3 kids in the vessel and when they see me they laugh right away. At other stops, we get about 15 child. I give them a Turkish flag, they will almost hug my neck.
I give up on staying at Harare while talking to the driver. I decide to go to Mana Pool National Park directly north instead of spending time in a city full of buildings. I get down in Masvingo and ride a bus. After a four-hour drive, we got close to Harare. I’m reporting on the bus at the moment! It will be the evening to reach Kariba.
There was a huge market area at the entrance of Harare. I see the same big markets in more places. There is an attractive mess in the city. Who knows what’s in those markets? Should I stay?
When we comes to the station, an old woman sitting by my side is taking my handbag and the other two men taking my luggage without any request. I do not know are the other ones. I understand why. Tons of taxi drivers start to shout “Mam, mam”, “where are you going mam, where you go sister?” I am put on a Kariba bus in the presence of my volunteer guards and they put my suitcases in their hands. I shout “thank you” from behind of them. I am going to find a meal by putting my sweatshirt in the seat (no seat number, who gets it first). The bus is about to full, it will depart very soon. I see a tiny tin restaurant “Take Away” I see Sodza yesterday called Dazzy’s most famous food. Inside the box is a large piece of corn called a maze (slice) and a large piece of cartilaginous bone and water. I eat everything that flees two days. The birds nested in my stomach and sat in the hatch. I’m just eating in the bus, my food is fabulous. It’s really delicious. It’s so good. Instead of using bread, they use Maze instead of fork spoons. First, they take a piece by hand and dip it into the water of the meal, then they rip off a piece of food. They wash their hands before they eat, but they do not have the habit of using soap. They bring cans and basins in restaurants, you keep your hands in the water. The taste of Sodza cost me only 1.5 dollars. Coca Cola is $1.
As I write these lines, the bus drops the passengers somewhere and the women who cook the corn cookies around me. They have set up corn mounds everywhere, making corn kebabs on wood fire, sticking them to long bars and extending them to the bus windows. 50 cents. I take one of them out of the way. It was a bit dry but warm and nice. Now the elderly woman beside me, and some orange came to me. I’m never bored in these ways. Every minute of an action.
By the way, the phone line I registered on Sunday was still not open. Mobile sellers could not solve the problem. I will find the Ecocash Shop in Kariba and turn it on.