Trotting around H Town


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A rather Valentine-esque English language newspaper. The pink almost makes you forget that the words “bloodbath” and “Mugabe” are terms that would give most people pause. I am certainly feeling the love.

Did you know that you can fit over two continental United States within the confines of the African continent?  The reason I mention this is because I am constantly learning how amazingly diverse life is over here. Right now I’m in Zimbabwe (click here for your crash course and geographic orientation), and I am constantly struck at the differences between here and Senegal. 

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Driving through Harare, the country’s capital. The omnipresent verdure is reminiscent of Hawaii. And then sometimes I think of England. And then sometimes middle America. I didn’t say that this is supposed to make sense, but this country is undeniably gorgeous and extremely diverse.

I want to address some of the more interesting aspects of life in Zimbabwe (at least from my ADHD tourist point of view), but I figured that I would first start off with some photos taken during a morning run in Harare.



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The morning of my run, I pulled out my shorts a crinkly 2000 CFA bank note (West African currency). I always run with a little bit of money on me, and now that I’m not in Dakar I had to scrounge around for a few U.S. dollars to stash in my pocket. Yes, here in Zimbabwe the old currency is worthless (check out the banknotes in the background).  I bought billions and billions of Zimbabwe dollars during my stay for a rock bottom price of….well…next to nothing.  


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And while we’re talking about it, I should allay any familial concern and say that I also always run with an “in case of emergency” note in my pocket. Normally this kind of initiative demonstrates superior contingency planning skills putting myself on foreign terrains- but as my pal Meaghan informed me, my notes aren’t always accurate- or helpful. Here she came across a note that I had penned one morning when leaving her house for a run. You can see that the address and family name are oddly similar…so much so, that had I fallen into the Seine, I’d be a goner. Drink more coffee before running.


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Okay, back to Zim.  Did you know that this country is known as Africa’s breadbasket? You dont even need to venture outside of the capital to see that this distinction is justly earned. Corn fields crop up on street corners, and Harare really is a sprawling capital of high rises and fields for farming. It’s pretty here.


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Zimbabwe is a former British colony formerly known as Rhodesia, and much like The Gambia you will see traces of rather British (and Irish) sounding names like Churchill Street and Connemara House. While driving around the capital, I found this name to be my most favorite, and I have no idea why.

While out on my run, I found much to appreciate in the ways of scenery. My only challenge was to remember that people drive on the left-hand side of the road over here- so I needed to ensure that my turns were made with more attention than my French note posted up above. As it turned out, my run was not a fantastic success in terms of cardio conditioning- but that was because I kept stopping to photograph the flowers.  They were just to beautiful to behold, and living in Dakar really makes me miss this unassuming kind of beauty. The canal of trash just isn’t the same (nor does it smell the same).

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I am no horticulturist, but I can still give you a slide show of some local attractions. 

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Consider the daisies!

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Everything grows here- there is an abundance of richness that you just don’t get a couple thousand miles north.

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If you find it odd that I’m starting my Zimbabwe entries with a scrapbook of random flowers, it’s because I really want to emphasize how struck I have been by the difference in landscape. It’s rocket science, I know- but I find that the temptation to generalize is always so great when speaking about Africa. The flora is a microcosm of this reality.

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But having said all of that, the pull to revert to generalizations will persist. Throughout this continent I continue to witness mean feats of transportation. It’s hard to see from here, but just above the TOYOTA wording was another sign that said “No Passengers”. Awesome. Africa.


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And apart from my morning run flower power photography, I also took a minute to capture this pile of bricks. When seeing these babies, two thoughts passed through my head. One: instead of concrete blocks, Zimbabweans constructs stuff with brick (again, I’m continuing to compare and contrast Senegal). Second thought: if Dad wasn’t yet done with his lighthouse, he’d so love to have this pile of bricks.

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And just because I mentioned my dear friend Meaghan up above, I feel that this is the appropriate posting to mention that Harare has not one but many Bon Marché stores. Alas, they are nothing like what you’ll find on the Left Bank of Paris. Le Sigh.


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I’ve got loads more neat stuff to show, but I’ll stop my entry here. 

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