Tasmania

From Harare: A tale of survival

Zimbabwe is suffering from an acute economic crisis. The country has the world's highest rate of annual inflation - and just one in five has an official job.

Queuing has become a fact of life in Harare

My sister, who is working abroad, called me after she read my second diary. She sounded like she wanted me to take the next flight out.

But life goes on here - it's just a question of adapting.

If you can't afford a bus ride to work, at least you can cycle. If you don't own a bicycle, then you have to walk.

I've heard of factory workers here who are doing just that, walking for three hours to get to work, and then walking the same distance back in the evening.

If you cannot fill up your car with petrol, there are numerous fuel traders who sell the commodity in five litre containers.

That keeps your car on the road, one day at a time.

And if you have power failures, you can stock up on firewood and candles. After all even South Africa has electricity blackouts.

People learn to improvise. That's the beauty of the human spirit - it hardly ever breaks in hard times.

Changing money can be confusing with the new $750,000 note

And anyway, there's always fun to be had laughing at the bus conductors as they try to work out how much their 750,000 Zimbabwe dollar notes add up to, and how much change they owe the passengers.

The Z$750,000 note was introduced in December and it is an arithmetic nightmare.

Amazingly there are still lavish weddings held here, that can match any wedding reception anywhere in the world.

Those with a bit of foreign currency to sell on the parallel market need to raise billions to fund these occasions.

The fact that salaries do not meet your monthly expenses, let alone set aside any savings for a rainy day, can really get those creative juices flowing.

Whatever you cannot find on the official market, you will find in abundance on the parallel market.

People sell everything here - vegetables, cooking oil packed in 50ml (yes 50ml) plastic tubes, sugar by the tablespoon - anything really.

And that is the small stuff. Young people are getting into business in a big way - mostly in commodity broking.

So we are alive and well in Zimbabwe, getting ready for the change that HAS to come, for the sake of those who don't have foreign currency stowed away for a rainy day.

I have been thinking about the meaning of our lives every second, minute, hour and day. Why do we exist? What is our purpose? Do we live to bring other people happiness, or just to fulfill our primative needs and follow the circle of life? Have you ever wondered how it would feel if you were a non-human? Perhaps a bird, or a fish, gulping down water to obtain oxygen; or perhaps existing as a rock,a mountain, a galaxy. I always feel as if I can never see the answer, or maybe the answer is so far down the road that it reaches infinity. Then I think about myself, about my own future, and I start doubting myself. It always seems difficult to trust the world around you and trust what others tell you. They talk to you from experience, but every person is unique, and so I've stubbornly believed that I can never predict my future, nor do I think I have great control over it. Some dreams just seem so far away, yet so close, like becoming a zooligist. Ever since I began to watch wildlife documentaries on TV, the image of field researchers documenting anima behaviour has stuck in my mind and I've never been able to erase it. Yes, there were times when I always gave up, thinking that dream too unrealistic, skeptical about my academic abilities, and not wanting to dissapoint my family, but then that image would always resurface and enter my head again. Those were the times when I would feel bold and confident, then soon my self-esteem would drop and plundge until all that I had left was a heart-load of misery. My emotional fluntuations haven't stopped yet. Maybe I'll never find a certain answer, maybe I'll just have to let the flow of life guide me and take to where I am accpeted. It is always the knowledge that I would be contributing to the world that urges me on, yet in my surge of passion there is always a shadow in the back of my head telling me a decision is never that simple. True, decisions are constantly a pain which requires a lot of hair being pulled out and a lot of tears being shed. Should I live for myself? But that's too selfish, and I can't bear to be selfish, especially since I think myself to be a nice person. Yet, living for others, existing to fulfill the dreams of others has never appealed to me, and it never will. I wish there was a compromise of both, a place where I can stand and say, " Yes, this is what I want, and this is what everyone else wants of me; thus, everyone is happy!" But I can't, and I don't know how, God, this is frustrating! I feel like smashing the keyboard sometimes, but I won't since I bought it with my parents' money. Oh great, even my computer does not belong to me, can't believe I'm under so much pressure. It seems ironic, when I was young I eagerly waited to grow up and time seemed to stand still for me; now I feel the desperate need to run from the present and become a child again so I could have a few moments of peace and carefree joy. True to the saying, we always wish for what we don't have, and we never appreciate something until it has passed us by. 

咖啡馆内

陈宇希

12月的早晨，