Tag Archives: Souther Africa

Botswana’s Neighbor To the East

While I have not yet been to Zimbabwe, I have met refugees from there and talked to enough people who have visited there to collect some first hand accounts.  I am not going to delve into the history of the situation, but if you truly want to gain an understanding of what is going on there you must read the history

While I have not yet had taken the opportunity to go to Zimbabwe (or as many call it in casual conversation “Zim”) but I have been close enough to get a taste of what is going on there.  While we were going to the Sowa Pans we had a 5 hour layover in Francistown Botswana.  Francistown is less than 100 Km from the border with Zimbabwe.  And because Zimbabwe usually doesn’t have things like, oh, food and gasoline many Zimbabweans come to Francistown to shop and then take back with them much more than they can carry.  Not everyone in Zimbabwe can do this of course, because the Zimbabwe Dollar is at around 1,000,000,000% inflation, so they have to have foreign currency (the Pula, Rand, or U.S. Dollar) to make purchases in Botswana.  These monied shoppers come to Francistown and buy in bulk.  Food, gasoline, electronics, mechanic parts.  As a result every store supplying these items has come to look like a Sam’s Club with discounts offered for bulk quantities.  This is good for Francistown, but bad for Zimbabwe as capital flight has become to standard method of spending liquidated money.

Yes, that is a refrigerator on top, and then other stuff is stacked even higher than that.  The colorful bags are made of woven plastic (I'm guessing in an East Asian country) and are packed to over 100 pounds each.

Yes, that is a refrigerator on top, and then other stuff is stacked even higher than that. The colorful bags are made of woven plastic (I

So while we were passing time in the direct sunlight to wait for our bus to Sowa Town I decided to go find out what was going on next to the Zim bus.  First thing I noticed when I got into the crowd of people waiting in “line” to get on the bus or to get their goods loaded on the bus was that the smells reminded me of Haiti.  The smell of human beings, charcoal fires, diesel fumes, and whole leaf tobacco rolled in butcher paper being shared among groups of men.  If I shut my eyes and thought about the grime on the bus and everything being loaded on it I could be in Haiti.  The major difference is that people ride on top of all that stuff on the roof in Haiti, and the buses are older.

Continue reading

Advertisements