Ngoma. The sound of this word is like a beating of a drum. The Royal drums. Very precious, they are kept in a secret place. They see daylight very seldom, only during tribal rituals or celebrations.

The biggest one is so heavy, that two men need to lift and hold it, while the third one beats it!
Our visit is such a special celebration, everyone knows about it.

We are welcomed by a crowd of men blowing antelope horns while women clap their hands. After a while the whole village gatyhers in the shadow of a huge mango tree. Blowing horns, rattles, drums – all the sounds mix up creating an african noise of Joy. Everyone dances.

The old witch-doctor invites us to his place to foretell the future. My friend Vincent translates his words. We are surprised and keep on wondering how is it possible he knows so much about our lives? We see each other for the first time. We still remember his words – Not everything in life is a calculation, the most important is what remains.

Pictures !

pic. Irena i Przemek Lisowscy

[+] more pictures Read the rest of this entry »

I
am with a Polish-Spanish group of doctors. We start the journey in Harare, Zimbabwe. With a great relief I can finally see the changes for better. They still don’t have the local currency, instead they use usd and rands, but they also don’t have the legendary 40 000 000 % inflation, the highest in the human history! So no need to carry a bag of zim dollars to buy a beer in a bar. The shops are now full, there is also petrol at the filling stations. New lodges and hotels are beginning to operate again.

.

We
admired the majestic Balancing Rocks, so huge and beautiful that I don’t even dare to describe them more.

.

Then
we head east for Mutare, where we cross the border into Mozambique. We travel to Beira, the second largest town situated on the golden shores of Indian Ocean. A warm swim in the waves and the delicious sea food await for us. An old soviet T-34 tank parked nearby reminds of the civil war that has ended. The war was won by the marxsists from FRELIMO, who rule Mozambique till today.

.

We
visit the famous Hotel Grande, in the colonial era – the most elegant hotel in whole of the southern region of Africa. Nowadays, a ruined squat inhabited by more than 5000 people. On its ugly walls one can notice the election posters of the FRELIMO – Together we will reach wealth and justice. Well, this is Africa.

.

After
a few days we return to Zimbabwe and take a bus to the far south of the country. We visit the most tourist spots, ruins of Great Zimbabwe, Bulawayo, Matopos. An finally, the long awaited stay in the real African villages of the Batonka tribe. Truly African place! All around there is bush, the village huts are empty. Everyone has gathered in the shade under a huge mango tree. Beating the drums, and dancing they show their pure joy of hosting us. Like in the old days. What is left is the refreshing bath in the hot springs, where due to the local tradition we shall bath devided according to the gender. The tribal taboo is like law and must be kept.

.

Pictures!

The enormous Balancing Rocks.

[+] more pictures

Read the rest of this entry »

The fifth week of our journey.

On an overloaded with people, goats and cabbages
open-truck we finally reach the outskirts of Zimbabwe.

A cast away, dusty and poor far north of this country.
Ever since the land of the Batonka tribe.

We are staying in a village, in those round huts made of mud and grass.
All around a cracked and dry red soil. Thorny accacy bushes and
majestic baobab trees. In this region there is a drought since
a few long years. A real bad one.

One can hardly see any vegetation in the fields.
The rainy season comes in November.

- This is African life. Very hard. – everyone here is saying.

Even our brightly smiling host Vincent,
and his wife Susan.
In their words one can trace no anger or sorrow.

Just an african way of finding peace of what is inside, outside,
and what lies ahead in the future.

Only the eyes of the witchdoctor are different.
Deeply filled with grief and sadness.
Perhaps he only could see, predict the horror
of the coming rains.

The rains in 2008 too rapid, too heavy will wash away
all the hard planted seeds.

- Big hunger will come. - he said shaking his old, head.

I realised he was right in his predictions a few months later.
The seeds were washed away by the stormy rains.
Changing them into ponds full of water and mud.

- This is Africa. – the Batonka will probably say when I visit them the next time.

- It is a hard life. But we are alive. -
and again the smile and all the calm of this place
and a blind faith in the better day which might
probably come one beautiful day.

Just waiting out there beyond the African horizon.

Photos: AGNIESZKA TERMANOWSKA

The hut of Joshua, a local VIP - soccer star and the son of the chief of the village.

Read the rest of this entry »