Last week I ran into Mark Hoskins, whom I meet every year at Zimfest; he was about to head out to Mhondoro to visit Cosmas Magaya - a noted mbira player and teacher who's visited us a number of times - so I tagged along. Mhondoro is an area of communal lands south of Harare, named for a big lion spirit. We met Cosmas' son Muda, a very good mbira player in his own right, and he took us down to Mbare Musika, where the big bus terminal is. We found a kombi heading our way... then waited 3 hours for it to fill up. In the interim we were solicited by an endless stream of vendors selling hats, knives, cosmetics, rope, candy, eggs, cigarettes, pop, sausages, combs, bread, popcorn, maize cobs... from one of the more engaging women, carrying a veritable tuck shop on her head, I bought a toothbrush I don't really need. I did need a rope, so bought ten metres, plus some rubber straps cut from inner tubes, to lash things to my ghost motorcycle, should it ever fully materialize. And I did need a knife to help peel my cucumber...
Passed the usual police roadblocks - they tend to pull over kombis a lot, as there's usually something amiss that can turn into a fine - or bribe.
We arrived in Mhondoro at sunset, and walked a short
distance down to Cosmas' grandfather's compound, here he now stays.
In the morning we went off for a tour of Nhimbe For Progress, the NGO that Cosmas co-leads.... but first he had to stop by his kraal to get a report on his cattle from the herdmen. Forty-five, mostly Hard MaShona Type, with a Brahmin bull. As in much of Africa, cattle are a Zimbabwean's bank account.
At the Nhimbe centre - the staff and children. Nhimbe runs a pre-school program, a health post and medicinal herb garden, a library, and a music program, and pays school fees for many local children who would otherwise be unable to attend school.
The women at Nhimbe also sew to help raise money. All the staff are
currently working on a volunteer basis; there is a general shortage of funds.
We finished with a performance by the Nhimbe youth marimba project,
with the centre staff joining in the singing.
As we were leaving, two members from the CIO (Police Intelligence) unit of Mubaira Police Detachment, 27 km away, showed up - they had heard that two white people had arrived the previous day, and wanted to question us "about our mission in Zimabwe." I stifled a perverse desire to embark on a shaggy dog story about our CIA backers; they were just doing their job, and it was all fairly casual - they had had to take lifts down to see us, as their detachment probably didn't have a car, and they had no uniforms... in fact they were probably bored to tears most of the time. It does appear as though things are tensing up in anticipation of an election, though. In the end we played marimba and mbira for them, and they left with smiles.
We went home and spent the afternoon unwinding with some mbira. Cosmas, Mark, and Muda.
Fetching water from the well....
Inside the kitchen.
The granary.
Playing a last song in the kitchen before departing. This kitchen has seen many famous mbira players pass through, and been the scene of many ceremonies (biras). Cosmas and his son Muda.
No comments:
Post a Comment