Down the Baobab Tree

 Fadzai and Tembo had always felt a gravitational force attracting them toward the great baobab tree, two kilometres outside the village. Its wide outstretched bare arms beckoned them. The village elders warned them though of the leopard that lived up the top in the hollow. It liked to eat small children or so they had been told.

It had been a long, hot October day and the heat sat heavily on everyone's shoulders. Fadzai and Tembo had been sent to fetch water and the buckets weighed them down. Stopping to take a rest, they suddenly were aware of the roots and solid trunk of the tree next to them. Looking up at the bright October sky they realized they were at the giant baobab.

Fadzai hastily picked up her bucket but Tembo continued to stare in awe, and then as if in a trance, walked closer to the enormous tree. On the ground was a cracked open furry seed pod and excited, Tembo pulled out the powdery white cream of tartar seeds. He sucked and chewed contentedly and offered some to his sister. Fadzai at first refused but then was persuaded as she did really like the cream of tartar too. It tasted like sherbet.

The two children were so busy enjoying the fruit that they did not notice two sets of eyes honing in on them. One had four legs, while the other slithered. The four-legged tree resident descended from above, whilst the slithering onlooker came from the roots.

Suddenly the children were aware that they were being watched. Nervously they bent down to pick up their buckets when a gruff voice said, "Don't go." And a hiss said, "Sssssstay." The children froze. Stories of witchcraft and children disappearing were not unheard of. Tembo sounding braver than he felt, straightened up and said, "Who are you?" There was a pause and then out of the tree trunk emerged a large leopard. Both children froze. The gruff voice said, "Don't be alarmed, I am one of the guardians of this magical tree." The children stood rooted to the spot and internally wondered who were the others? As if in answer to their thoughts they suddenly looked down to a python winding between their feet. "I am the other," murmured the snake, and then he said, "We mean you no harm."

Tembo, summoning up all his courage spluttered, "We need to go home." The snake had slid up to the hollow in the tree trunk. "Don't you want to see the secret world inside the tree? We've been waiting for you a very long time." Fadzai and Tembo looked at each other. They had always been very curious children. Some times in danger of their own good.

"What magical world?" they asked. "A land that can only be visited once, on one day, before it is replaced by another one," whispered the leopard. "You may enter at your own peril but must return from it before the sun sets or else you will remain in that land forever."

"What lives in these lands?" asked Fadzai. "Oh, anything from your imagination," hissed the python, "Are you ready to explore?"

Nature Journaling

I

Seed poded munondo giving way to jacaranda. Indigenous to exotic. Changes in my life reflected.

A furry friend follows me along the way.

To the right a manicured terraced veggie garden.

Lady chancellor dotted in between.

A dragonfly perches near where I write.

Pauses then takes flight.

The wintry sun lights up the air and gives a glimmer of spring.

II

Yellow African grass yellow butterflies flit through the dappled light.

A msasa in the distance changing foliage.

It will soon be glorious.

The woodland rustles and the floor is a patchwork of tawny leaves. 

Who knows where this story leads?

A golden peanut butter cassia in the glade,

a butter yellow, still holding on to hope.

III

The buzz of flies and birds cry.

In a poolside garden, ladies write

of msasa trees and Zimbabwean spring.

All around the succulents brim with exotic colours,

standing out from the woodland.

Potted rose bushes, daisies, and bougainvillea,

edging the tranquil pool, too cold yet to swim in.

And still, the ladies write, each with their own take on nature and their surroundings.

A mini oasis in the dry landscape.

That glitter stone pool does invite

but more for a summertime delight. 

Memoir III

 For my friend Sarah Dowling's 21st when I was studying at UCT in South Africa, she had us dress up as our favourite cocktail. There were strawberry daiquiris, pink ladies, Captain Morgan's and I went as a cape velvet, wearing a brown velvet cape I inherited from Mrs Derby, my junior school music teacher at Convent.

On arrival, you could have a non-alcoholic or alcoholic jelly bean cocktail. I'm so glad I chose the non-alcoholic version as the alcoholic one was lethal. People were bouncing on it and it went straight to their heads.

It was a fun night and we all had a great evening. The only problem was trying to herd very drunk people home to Fuller and Smuts residences after. It was like herding cats. Several decided they were going to roll down the concrete stairs by the library and Jammie stairs. They semi did roll which must have been painful. When we finally reached the Fuller and Smuts car park, some of the group said they'd sleep on the hedges. A group of Smuts men decided they wanted to be let into Fuller, the girl's residence, and streak around the corridors. I managed to sneak in without admitting the gentlemen and left them to fend for themselves outside. Sleeping on the hedge and all.

Memoir II

 It was the week prior to elections and I was turning 30. It seemed like such a big age. My friend Lucy and her folks kindly offered for me to have my party at their home. Since I was born in the 80's, I chose that era as the theme.

Rubic cube cake, pin the glove on Michael Jackson, disco and technicolour. I had fun baking, painting and preparing. Despite the build up to elections, we went ahead and hired a dance floor, glasses and speakers.

Everyone made an effort dressing up. Punk rockers, shoulder pads, you name it. It was a night to remember and we danced the evening away.

Memoir I

 It was a court case over visiting rights and custody. I was thirteen. My sister and I were sent in to see the judge in his rooms at the high court. I had to think back over the last few months of my dad's erratic behavior. Strange, unsettling. A manic depressive not on medication. Alarming for my younger self and my little sister.

I did most of the talking. My sister sat there. How did I feel my dad was as a father? Did I feel safe? Prior to this I had been for therapy and the psychologist had written an affidavit. I was asked if I wanted to still see my dad. This all seemed really heavy stuff for a thirteen year old.

But how did I feel inside? What did I really want? What figure did my dad cut for my sister and me?

The time in the judge's room ended and we were ushered out. As we went into the corridor, my dad was at the other end. He shouted out he had a right to see his children. We were quickly transferred into another room. And that was the last time. Did my dad have the right to see us? I'm still thinking about that one to this day.

Back in lockdown and online

Just seen that the last time I posted was end of May. Feels like a time warp since then. I finished marking all the exams for form twos which was quite an undertaking, and then did preparation for report comments. After that I was able to relax a bit. I went to art with Sarah Fynn and also managed a trip to Nyanga with good friends, which was icy but lovely. So glad we did it then, as we have now gone back into lockdown in Zim and interprovincial travel is blocked for the moment. I spent the last week of my holiday suddenly having to think about how to do high school online. Gulp! Art is particularly tricky but brainstormed with my colleague and we made a plan. 

It is a strange case of deja vu but also adaptation to new things for me at the moment. The whole period between now and the last lock down is a bit hazy and I've lost track of time. Sadly a few people I've known have died and funerals were limited in numbers. There have actually suddenly been quite a few deaths, some semi-expected, some not. My one dear friend lost her special dad and she had to travel out from the UK. Whilst travelling here was stressful with Covid, returning to the UK and having to stay in a quarantine hotel has been the pits. I am so not keen to do that to use my air ticket before it expires.

I have also been helping to moderate exam marking for IGCSE art. Art has definitely changed since I did high school art. You now have to put together a portfolio of work, experiment and explore a theme and show progression and structure through to your final exam piece. Some great art has been done by some of the girls. I am supposed to do an online course with Cambridge on marking IGCSE.

So yes, in some ways a lot has happened, but in other ways it's more of the same. My form ones in art are supposed to be thinking of ideas for a massive event to celebrate the end of Covid and design invitations, posters and a menu for it. My one dear student though said she was going to do it for a funeral - um, not quite what I was angling for in my brief. 

Africa Day and 1800 more minutes

 Today is Africa Day. Always makes me think deeply about this wonderful continent of ours and all the places I still want to visit on it. I'm very keen to maybe try go to Namibia with a German friend at the end of the year and then maybe Gonarezhou in Zim if I can with her too. Both on my bucket list. Still not sure when to use my England ticket. I'm not paying a fortune for quarantine and PCRs. 

The rest of this week is going to be a hectically busy one. Tomorrow, I go with the geo and drama departments to the Swedish Embassy for a workshop on climate change. I'm not sure if I'll be taking maths support before that, if I do, I will have to leave slightly early. Thursday straight after maths I hop on the bus with the A level art girls to go to Gallery Delta and then come back to school to do invigilating training. Friday I have professional development at Gateway in the afternoon. Three days, I can do it, just. Thank goodness no more really early mornings this term to do temperature checks at the gate. The guy who does it with me said last week he was manning the station on his own and because he was multi-tasking he accidentally squirted hand sanitiser at a girl instead of taking her temperature with the temperature gun. It went in her eyes, oops.

So looking forward the the three week break in June. Although I don't like having had a 6 month long term, the idea that I won't have to rush out of bed right in the middle of winter is a small consolation prize. Hope to go do some art with Sarah Fynn and maybe go to Nyanga. I might try my hand at doing a Bolivian multi-grain miellie. The other art teacher is having a go herself at the projects we've set our form ones and twos. Have to try using just primary colours and blending, like we've asked our students to.

My form ones are very sweet. Last Friday at the end of the lesson, one very petite girl came up to my desk. She had her mask on and I couldn't hear what she was saying, but eventually I heard her saying, have a nice weekend. They are all still obsessed with the concept of diamonds from peanut butter. I found a cool geology video though that had them bopping in their chairs which explained the rock cycle well, so hopefully they've understood it now.