Under an African Sky

I perched on a rock under the shade of a combretum tree watching Pat's fourth attempt to get the Landrover up a sharp incline. The tracks were deeply rutted and muddy from the previous futile attempts. The Landrover looked as though it was going to topple on its side. Dave Wilson the farmer whose lands we were visiting shouted encouragement from the sidelines. The wheels spun helplessly and clods of black earth flew through the air like missiles. Dave had to keep on ducking but I took most of them on the leg. Pat bundled out and grinned at us sheepishly she is not going anywhere he told us and kicked the tyre exasperated.

We clucked in sympathy trying to suppress our grins as only minutes earlier Pat had been waxing lyrically on the virtues of Landrovers and how this particular one could get through anything. We were miles from Dave's camp and it was unbelievably hot. We had no water in the car and the flies were buzzing noisily round our noses. Fortunately one of Dave's workers appeared and we hastily sent him off to summons the tractor which fortunately was still in the paprika lands. Pat and Dave collapsed on the rocks next to me and we prepared ourselves for the long wait.

As I shifted up to make room for Pat I snagged my jeans on a rock and heard them rip. I inspected the damage with horror to find half my bottom exposed. This is all your fault I chided Pat now the whole of Mozambique can see my bum. I was ignored so I lay on my back and studied the sky. It was an amazing cobalt blue and white clouds scudded slowly towards one another. I turned my attention to the trees to see what birdlife was around but sadly it was too warm for them. As the sun rose the hotter it became and just as I thought I would expire and die of dehydration we heard the rumble of a tractor in the distance.

As the driver chugged towards us we discovered we didn't have a tow rope I almost threw myself on the ground and sobbed. I gazed at the river in desperation should I plunge in to cool off but the water was a dirty brown from the recent rains although I couldn't see any crocodile heads visible I decided to restrain myself. The tractor set off for Dave's camp to find a rope and we retired to the rocks again. This time I sat down carefully as not to lose the other half of my jeans. The heat didn't seem to bother Pat and Dave they spoke about fungicides while I extricated biting ants from where they  were crawling threw the hole in my jeans. 

The tractor returned, the Landrover was secured to a rope and with a lot of shouting, singing and pushing from the workers who were now on lunch break and more than delighted to help, it emerged out of the mud and back on to terra firma. Pat was strangely quiet on the way back and the merits of Landrovers wasn't mentioned again. Back at camp it was unanimously decided the rest of the farm would be seen from the back of a horse. The horses were saddled and the three of us set off in the cool of the afternoon. Dave led us across a grassy vlei towards a small dam. "Are there any landmines?" I called anxiously as our horses picked their way through the head high grass. I hung back nervously waiting for them to get blown up first. As we passed fields of papyrus, ferns and the most beautiful blue water lilies I forgot all about landmines.

We cantered down soft dirt tracks alarming birds, butterflies and dragonflies as big as my hand. Wild flowers were everywhere we gave the horses their heads and galloped off into the sunset. Word had spread to the village that there were horses about and for most residents it was the first time they had seen a horse. In no time at all we had a crowd running after us. There were oohs and aahs as dung was inspected and lots of excited chatter. As I cantered past a man on a bicycle, I greeted him in Portuguese, his return greeting was rather unexpected he shouted out Hello Crazy Sister!! He's right I thought ruefully. We headed in to camp as a red sun was sinking and just made it through the border. Arriving home we were met by the Gorgeous Kate. Where have you been Mum she demanded and what's that in your hair. I looked in the mirror cautiously it looked like a cow pat stuck to the left side of my head, after a thorough inspection it was identified as black mud. As I turned around Kate looked at me aghast "What's happened to your jeans"!!!!

Mandy Retzlaff
Bvumba
Zimbabwe