Z Matopos wczesnym rankiem skierowaliśmy się do granicznego miasta Plumtree. Odprawa poszła całkiem sprawnie i już mieliśmy przejechać na stronę botswańską gdy zatrzymało nas dwoje policjantów w cywilu, oznajmiając, że muszą przeszukać nasz samochód w poszukiwaniu diamentów lub innych, zawierających złoto minerałów. Zaczęło się od skrzynek na bagażniku. Policjant nie był zadowolony, że musi grzebać w olejach i częściach zapasowych. Wolałby pewnie dostać łapówkę i nas puścić ale byliśmy niewzruszeni. Jeszcze bardziej biedak się przygnębił kiedy otworzył drzwi samochodu i ujrzał zalegające pod łóżkiem bagaże. Wyraz tryumfu zagościł na jego zbolałej twarzy kiedy pod przednim siedzeniem znalazł pojemnik z kamieniami zebranymi przez Basię w Egipcie. Zapytał czy deklarowaliśmy wwóz tych kamieni do Zimbabwe, bo jeżeli nie to będziemy mieli kłopoty. Zaczął tłumaczyć, że brał udział w szkoleniu prowadzonym przez geologów i wydaje mu się, że część naszych skarbów może zawierać złoto. Stwierdził, że będziemy musieli zawrócić na policyjny parking i czekać kilka godzin na przyjazd specjalisty który oceni czy nasze kamyki to minerały. Powiedzieliśmy by sobie nie zawracał głowy bo jesteśmy pewni, że są to minerały, bo raczej każdy kamień to minerał. Po godzinnej rozmowie policjant stwierdził, że musimy zawrócić. Uruchomiłem więc silnik i ruszałem, kiedy gość zwątpił, oddał nam nasze cenne minerały i niepocieszony brakiem łapówki pozwolił jechać dalej. Na zakończenie policjantka ostrzegła Basię byśmy uważali będąc w RPA ponieważ ludzie mają tam za dużo wolności i w związku z tym jest tam bardzo niebezpiecznie.
W taki oto, niezbyt przyjemny sposób pożegnaliśmy się z Zimbabwe, uroczą krainą przeoraną głębokimi ranami i zniszczoną maniakalną żądzą pieniądza, i władzy przez dyktatora Mugabe. Serce się krajało na widok potężnych połaci ziemi które niegdyś żywiły miliony ludzi a teraz stały odłogiem. Wypalone i opuszczone ponieważ nowi właściciele ziemscy w pogoni za szybkim zyskiem sprzedali co się dało i nie zawracali sobie głowy rolnictwem. W całym kraju pozostała zaledwie garstka białych, komercyjnych farmerów produkujących jeszcze żywność, ale niestety nie patrzą oni z optymizmem w przyszłość ponieważ cały czas wydawane są nakazy wzywające do opuszczenia swoich ziem i domów w ciągu 24 godzin.
In the early morning we left the Matopos National Park and headed towards the border town of Plumtree. Formalities at the frontier went smoothly and with Zimbabwe exit stamps in our passports we were just about to drive over into Botswana when we were stopped by two plainclothes police officers who told us that they were going to have to search our vehicle to check that we weren’t smuggling diamonds or any gold-bearing minerals out of the country. Much to their surprise, rather than offering them a time-saving bribe, Adam invited them to start the search, beginning with our roof-top boxes. The policeman reluctantly carrying out this task looked hugely disgruntled at having to grapple with a heap of dirty spare parts and greasy containers full of oil. He looked even less amused when we opened the doors of the car to reveal an impressive jumble of baggage rammed under our bed platform. As he continued his laborious rummaging the sour look on his face suddenly transformed into one of triumph when he came across a small lunchbox tucked under the passenger seat. The box was full of stones and shells collected from various deserts in Egypt. He asked whether we’d declared these items upon entering Zimbabwe, and informed us that if we hadn’t trouble lay ahead for us. Having explained that he’d taken part in a training course run by geologists, he then went on to tell us that some of our stones looked like they could contain gold. To have his suspicions confirmed we’d have to turn back to the police compound and wait there several hours for the arrival of an expert from Harare, who would be able to state definitively whether or not the stones we had in our possession were minerals. Despite not having had the benefit of any geological training, we told him that he could save the expert from Harare a long journey, as we were confident that every rock is a mineral. After further lengthy deliberation the officer concluded that we had to drive over to the compound, and much to his disappointment Adam obediently switched on the engine and prepared to move. Realising that no bribe would be forthcoming, the policeman immediately stopped him, handed back the box of stones and told us that we were free to go. The pantomime search had lasted an hour and a half, during which time the second plainclothes officer had warned us to be very careful when we reached South Africa, as the people there have far too much freedom making it a very dangerous place to be.
It was on this rather sad note that we bid farewell to Zimbabwe – a phenomenally beautiful country, now heavily scarred and damaged by the maniacal greed and lust for power of its resident dictator. It was heartbreaking to see vast swathes of arable land that had once fed millions of people now lying barren, burnt and abandoned. It appears that the current landowners – the new ‘farmers’ – never intended to cultivate anything on their freshly acquired properties, but simply wanted to make a quick buck by selling off what they could. Now only a handful of white commercial farmers remain in Zimbabwe, though their future is far from certain as notices to quit their homes and land within 24 hours are still being issued to this day.
W taki oto, niezbyt przyjemny sposób pożegnaliśmy się z Zimbabwe, uroczą krainą przeoraną głębokimi ranami i zniszczoną maniakalną żądzą pieniądza, i władzy przez dyktatora Mugabe. Serce się krajało na widok potężnych połaci ziemi które niegdyś żywiły miliony ludzi a teraz stały odłogiem. Wypalone i opuszczone ponieważ nowi właściciele ziemscy w pogoni za szybkim zyskiem sprzedali co się dało i nie zawracali sobie głowy rolnictwem. W całym kraju pozostała zaledwie garstka białych, komercyjnych farmerów produkujących jeszcze żywność, ale niestety nie patrzą oni z optymizmem w przyszłość ponieważ cały czas wydawane są nakazy wzywające do opuszczenia swoich ziem i domów w ciągu 24 godzin.
Farewell Zimbabwe
In the early morning we left the Matopos National Park and headed towards the border town of Plumtree. Formalities at the frontier went smoothly and with Zimbabwe exit stamps in our passports we were just about to drive over into Botswana when we were stopped by two plainclothes police officers who told us that they were going to have to search our vehicle to check that we weren’t smuggling diamonds or any gold-bearing minerals out of the country. Much to their surprise, rather than offering them a time-saving bribe, Adam invited them to start the search, beginning with our roof-top boxes. The policeman reluctantly carrying out this task looked hugely disgruntled at having to grapple with a heap of dirty spare parts and greasy containers full of oil. He looked even less amused when we opened the doors of the car to reveal an impressive jumble of baggage rammed under our bed platform. As he continued his laborious rummaging the sour look on his face suddenly transformed into one of triumph when he came across a small lunchbox tucked under the passenger seat. The box was full of stones and shells collected from various deserts in Egypt. He asked whether we’d declared these items upon entering Zimbabwe, and informed us that if we hadn’t trouble lay ahead for us. Having explained that he’d taken part in a training course run by geologists, he then went on to tell us that some of our stones looked like they could contain gold. To have his suspicions confirmed we’d have to turn back to the police compound and wait there several hours for the arrival of an expert from Harare, who would be able to state definitively whether or not the stones we had in our possession were minerals. Despite not having had the benefit of any geological training, we told him that he could save the expert from Harare a long journey, as we were confident that every rock is a mineral. After further lengthy deliberation the officer concluded that we had to drive over to the compound, and much to his disappointment Adam obediently switched on the engine and prepared to move. Realising that no bribe would be forthcoming, the policeman immediately stopped him, handed back the box of stones and told us that we were free to go. The pantomime search had lasted an hour and a half, during which time the second plainclothes officer had warned us to be very careful when we reached South Africa, as the people there have far too much freedom making it a very dangerous place to be.
It was on this rather sad note that we bid farewell to Zimbabwe – a phenomenally beautiful country, now heavily scarred and damaged by the maniacal greed and lust for power of its resident dictator. It was heartbreaking to see vast swathes of arable land that had once fed millions of people now lying barren, burnt and abandoned. It appears that the current landowners – the new ‘farmers’ – never intended to cultivate anything on their freshly acquired properties, but simply wanted to make a quick buck by selling off what they could. Now only a handful of white commercial farmers remain in Zimbabwe, though their future is far from certain as notices to quit their homes and land within 24 hours are still being issued to this day.
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