Chimoio Show

I was showing Horace Kirton and Rob Hamlyn their accommodation for the night at the funny, little, green house in Chimoio, Mozambique. We did a quick tour of the bathroom so they could see for themselves the miracle of our running water and the flushing loo. It had taken a lot of hard work and tantrums to get us this far. Horace surveyed the walls in the bathroom and then suddenly reeled back in undisguised terror, I looked at him in alarm. "My God!" he said with an incredulous expression on his face" You are so dam lucky you haven't electrocuted yourself in here. "Make sure you don't touch anything when you step out of the shower." I followed his gaze apprehensively and sure enough wires hung from the wall without insulation and above the shower head was a switch, plus a few other electrical things dangling why hadn't we noticed it before?.


Almardo, our landlord had hired an electrician to set up a system so that the water could be pumped from the water tank outside through to the shower rose. His first attempt at installing the pump had been an unspeakable disaster as he had wired it incorrectly. When it finally did work we were so overcome with joy that we could take a shower, we didn't bother to look at the wiring. "You better shower with gumboots on"!!! said Horace grimly, making a hasty exit. I blew out my cheeks in utter frustration. Alberto would have to be summoned immediately so he could relay my dissatisfaction to Almardo, last week it was the plumbing this week the electric's. I made a quick mental note to buy a pair of gumboots just in case. 

Rob and Horace's visit co-incided with the Chimoio Agricultural Show. While Pat, Horace and Rob went to look at paprika crops, Noma and I hurriedly set up our paprika stand and banner. We were almost ready to meet and greet the Minister of Agriculture and the Governor. The entourage filed in and the Governor greeted us warmly. I gave a brief synopsis of Hyveld Limitada Paprika in Mozambique which everyone seemed to listen to attentively but it seemed Noma, who was looking very pretty, was more of an attraction. The Minister gave her a wolfish grin and when I had finished we all shook hands enthusiastically. The tour was to be followed by a cocktail party in the Agricultural hall. Last year it had been a chaotic and horrific experience. Our company had donated a generous amount of money towards the eats and drinks. The display of snacks had been absolutely mouth watering and we could not wait to tuck in, we were absolutely ravenous, as we had not eaten all day. As soon as the Governor had finished his speech, the entourage swept out and we made a mad dash for the food. Before we got there the doors burst open and in rushed every beggar from Manica to Chimoio. Those that didn't have legs arrived in hand propelled wheelchairs and those who didn't have the luxury of wheelchairs arrived face down on wooden planks with wheels attached. In minutes the snacks disappeared and then the crowd lunged for the drinks. By the time security was called there were just a pile of empty plates and a few tin cans.

Fortunately, this year's security was in place and the snacks and drinks stayed in tact. The cocktail party was rather a festive affair in fact loads of fun and then the party moved on to a restaurant to celebrate the Christie Smith's Wedding Anniversary and Perry Perepescko's birthday. It was party Mozambique style, the music pumped and the drinks flowed and we were ready to party all night long. We tucked into succulent crayfish and prawns with the most delicious sauce rustled up by one of the guests who it appears had carte blanche to the kitchen. 

On arrival back at the Chimoio house, Pat who had thoroughly enjoyed himself at the party, could not remember where he had put the bedroom keys. Ever security conscious he had locked all the bedding, mattresses and other things which are absolutely vital for a good nights sleep in the bedroom. I suppressed my hysterical reaction to this unexpected revelation and looked around for alternative bedding. Amazingly, I found two mattresses and enough bedding for Rob and Horace in a cupboard in another room. Pat and I had to resort to three thin cushions and a striped table cloth as a blanket. As we settled down on the concrete floor Pat made sure he was comfortable and managed to hog the cushions and most of the table cloth and instantly fell asleep snoring gently.

I lay on the concrete floor with my nose pressed against the wall and plotted Pat's demise. I was woken loudly at about 4 am with a huge dig in the ribs. "I remember where the keys are!" shouted Pat with an ecstatic whoop of delight waking Horace and Rob with all the commotion. "They are on top of the cupboard "he shouted exultantly, slapping his forehead. He just could not understand why we didn't share in his enthusiasm and applaud him on having such a good memory. Rob and Horace thankfully went back to sleep and I staggered wearily after Pat , it was so wonderful to be tucked up in a proper bed between clean sheets that I almost forgave Pat for losing the keys.

I thought of all the homeless Zimbabweans who don't have the priviledge of a bed and sleep on a cold pavement every night, as the economy declines so does employment and more and more people have no alternative when they are unable to pay their rents..

Well done to the organizers of the Chimoio Show and lets hope next year there will be far more representation. A big thanks to Micky Perepescko and Sylvia Christie Smith for a hosting such a great party.

Mandy Retzlaff
Bvumba
Zimbabwe