People say, "Home is where the heart is." If that saying is true, then I truly have a home in a land where I have no ancestral roots - a land where, to my knowledge, no one in my family has ever visited - a land where I have no family connection - a land where I have nothing to own and where I desire nothing to own. My home is not built of bricks and mortar nor wood and nails. My home is solely a place where part of my heart resides. Zimbabwe.
Zimbabwe. Some say there is confusion about what the name means. It seems that "Zimbabwe" comes from two Shona (one of the local Zimbabwean languages) words describing the structure that is partially pictured above. That structure is called in modern times, "Great Zimbabwe." In ancient times, it was home to the Shona King. Great Zimbabwe is a historical site today and can be visited today. It is near the modern Zimbabwean city of Masvingo. Pictures do not do Great Zimbabwe justice! At first glance, Great Zimbabwe doesn't even look so "great." Most of the fortress is built on what appears to be a small hill. That "hill" is not so small after you try to climb it! There are millions of hand laid stones that have stood for hundreds of years - with absolutely NO MORTAR!
This stone palace - Great Zimbabwe - is where the modern nation derives its name. Zimbabwe comes from 2 Shona words. "dzimba" meaning "Big House" and "ibwe" meaning "stone." Big House of Stone.
My love of Zimbabwe began several years ago. My wife and I lost our teaching jobs in Ohio and moved to North Carolina because she had family here. We found jobs about 2 hours away from them. In the town where we settled, we met a couple at church who had twin boys who were the same age as our then infant son. We shared a lot in common with them. That couple was originally from Zimbabwe. They came to America after college for an "adventure."
Through them, I learned slowly about life and culture in Zimbabwe. And through them, I met my friend John - a Zimbabwean pastor who leads an African congregation in America. He and I attended licensing school together - a requirement for Methodist Pastors in America. We became instant friends.
After a few years of friendships and idle talk of visiting, my seminary graduation present was a trip to Zimbabwe with John. I was instantly in love with the land and the people! I made friendships that will never be broken!
Our first trip was part vacation and part mission trip. We did work in churches and helped individuals as we found needs, but yet it was also a chance for me to see a new place. For John, it was a chance to see the land of his birth through my eyes.
I was taken in by the hospitality of everyone! Visiting is like being a royal guest. There is no such thing as imposing on anyone. When visiting someone, the first thing that happens is that you will be fed. If it is meal time, be prepared to eat! You will NOT go hungry!
Hosts and friends will devote one hundred percent of their time and energy to guests. This is not out of obligation - this is out of genuine love! Schedules can be rearranged - but time with a guest cannot. If, by chance the host has an appointment that absolutely cannot be missed, the host will make sure that the guest is well taken care of!
Despite what people hear about Zimbabwe on Western News sources, I have never felt safer anywhere than I have in Zimbabwe. Of course, there is crime in Zimbabwe - there is crime anywhere. The crime, however, is well controlled and not a common occurrence. I was in very rich areas, very poor areas, and everything in between. I can honestly say that I never felt unsafe! Well, last year, on my first trip, we were at a game park, and we were told that a lion had been seen a few months earlier - I did feel slightly in danger - but I never felt unsafe because of people!
Even Zimbabwean authorities are polite while they are doing their jobs. Customs agents are charged with searching luggage, checking documents, and maintaining a fast flow of people at the airport. This is not a job I envy! No one enjoys going through that department, and I'm sure they receive rude comments on a frequent basis. Each experience I had with them, however, was polite. They asked permission before opening my bags. They smiled when greeting me. They welcomed me into their country. I cannot say the same about my own TSA agents in the United States. They were rude, sarcastic, and even yelled at me and others. Yes, I'm sure it's a monotonous and stressful job. I'm sure they get asked many "dumb" questions. But, these are the first faces that a person sees upon entering the country. I felt welcomed when I entered Zimbabwe. And trust me...I asked some dumb questions just to make sure I did the correct things. I felt embarrassed entering the United States. We can do better! I feel sorry for those particular TSA agents...you have an important job, but you are not THAT important that you can't treat someone as a human being!
Describing exactly why Zimbabwe will forever be another home to me is difficult. It's not just the hospitality. It's not just the welcome I received. It's not just the sights I saw. It's not just the friendships. All of those things combined can give part of the reason that Zimbabwe is another home to me, but some reasons are beyond words.
Sometimes, when you've been away from home a long time or after a long day, you get home. You get to your favorite place in your house and you exhale and everything just feels right. You feel at home. That is how I feel when I'm at home here in the USA. That's how I feel when I'm with those I love in Zimbabwe.
