
Van Dame Schwarzenegger
Becoming Kuziwa
When Adults Fall
When Adults Play
Van Dame Schwarzenegger
There are many coping mechanisms we develop for living life. For me, one was when we were walking in the dark because there was no electricity in Zimbabwe or we were in the countryside, and there were only a few of us, we would talk loudly. A stratagem my older brother borrowed from some of his friends who were allowed out late more often than he was. The one coping mechanism I am particularly interested in today is the “Van Damme, Schwarzenegger ” mantra. This is the mantra used to approach the cascade of cold water as it shoots forth from the spout of a shower head. One accosts the cold water declaring over and over again, “Van Damme, Schwarzenegger , Van Damme Schwarzenegger r”. Until one’s body meets with the stream of cold water and the mantra would be broken briefly only to be resumed as one completely immerses oneself under the flowing cold water. And then of course as the body gets over the shock one would truly feel like Jean Claude Van Damme and Arnold Schwarzenegger together. Brave and invincible like these two heroes of action films of old and symbols of bravery and manliness and yada yada yada. I was reminded of this mantra this week as I entered week number two of bathing with cold water. Yes, it’s winter in Zimbabwe and yes, the very last two weeks have been the coldest since winter started. But, Kuziwa uses cold water to bathe and that’s just how this is going to be. Now, Allen on the other hand, I am not so sure about his relationship with cold water…I am chuckling as I write this. No, this is not a case of identity confusion or split personalities, it’s just that the longer I have spent in Zimbabwe with one of my closest people calling me Kuziwa and introducing me everywhere as Kuziwa it’s been challenging at times to remember Allen.
Becoming Kuziwa
Recently I was on a call with a friend. I was using someone else’s phone because. My friend had not seen that number reflect on his phone and when he picked up he didn’t know whom he was speaking to. I was about to tell him “It’s Kuziwa” and confuse him further because he knows me by “Allen” or my last name “Matsika.” Since I arrived in Zimbabwe I have slowly gravitated towards my roots. One of the changes I made was introduce myself experimentally to some new acquaintances as Kuziwa, my middle name. One of those acquaintances became a close friend and confidante and she has used Kuziwa and introduced me as Kuziwa to many more people. It’s stuck now and it fits so well with the cultural explorations I am making.
I am Kuziwakwashe Matsika of the Tembo clan of the Sena people from Mozambique. (The knowledge of kings and God that votes with its feet of the Zebra clan of the Sena people from the East where the magi came from) My people, the Sena, are the original and owners of the powerful mystical arts and are connected deeply to the land and the spirit world. Not to be confused with the dark arts. When one of my ancestors was unjustly murdered by a white settler who coveted his land, a solar eclipse was the immediate response of the skies as his blood hit the earth. It’s now a legend and people don’t believe it when it’s recited in my totem poem but it’s the reality of the situation. Back then people could speak to their ancestors under a Muhacha tree and food could be provided for hungry travelers, water for thirsty and lost fugitives, and some could be swallowed by the tree to escape a marauding lion. These are the legends I am discovering in my exploration and they are exciting as I become Kuziwa.
I am learning more about my family history as well. One thing which has stuck with me lately is how my father never grew up with his father or mother. He was raised by his grandmother, my great-grandma. And the way he mentions great-grandma makes me wonder where great-grandpa was during that time. I haven’t asked but I will soon. I am learning about my mother’s side of the world too and learning a lot about what life was like back then before I was born. And how it was after I was born but I was too young to remember. Every now and then my sister who passed away comes to mind and I find myself missing her terribly. I haven’t thought much about my half-siblings but that is going to come back in full swing soon I know. Just as many other realities have struck me unexpectedly, I want to be prepared for the many other facets of this life. It can be difficult as an adult to succumb to a life crisis, to be immobilized by the unexpected, to fall.
When Adults Fall
I drove to the intersection of the industrial area, and paused as several bicycles were making their way up and down the road I was about to turn into. I had to wait as there was not enough space for everyone on the road. The edges of the paved road we chipped, and eaten away by weathering and erosion, so the cyclists were forced into using more of the road to avoid these hazardous edges. The cyclists were occupying part of the paved road making the rugged and barely two-lane road into even less of a one-lane road. As I waited I spotted two men making their way up the road, one riding a bicycle and the other sitting on the frame of the bicycle. As they rode up, they caught up to one of their peers on foot who noticed them and began running away. The run of a tired man who was carrying on his back, a satchel. A chase ensued. The bicycle raced to catch the running man and they were laughing and taunting each other. It took only a few moments for the edges of the road to do their thing. A bump in the road, uneven terrain from erosion and usage, an imbalance as the cyclists was pedaling furiously, and the bicycle toppled and with it, its riders. It was a chaotic ungrateful fall, the rider on the frame falling on top of the buckle which was sitting on top of the rider.
The one sitting on the frame got out quite alright but the cyclist was caught underneath the frame, pined down awkwardly for a human body. He remained on the ground for a while as we all looked on. He didn’t look terribly injured but it’s well-documented that in situations like these, the ego is bruised enough to cause a limp and more. It hurts to fall, it’s embarrassing to fall, and it hurts to get injured in a fall like this one since you still have to make your way home in pain. The two men chuckled a little, the one being chased, and the rider on the frame who had suffered little from the fall. Everyone on the road was caught in-between amusement becasue of the unexpected fall and concern for the rider pinned beneath the bicycle’s frame. I took it all in, tired from my own toils from the day which made me slow to react and stationed me in an observer’s chair. I took my cue from another smiling onlooker who stood at the corner on my right. This man had chuckled and his chuckle had turned into a smile as he shook his hand warmly. I chuckled too, the kind of laugh that did not laugh at, or laugh with, but one that I took from the onlooker to be glad for life somehow. It hit me, these men had been playing. Considering the work they do all day - I was in the industrial area manual labor district of town - and seeing them play, and hearing the onlooker chuckle kindly, this was a gift to me.
It’s been a rumble and tumble since I arrived in Zimbabwe. I have even changed names slowly and become Kuziwa more and more as I seek to restore and regain the vitality of life from my roots. And now with the secrets I carry of life and family it’s been exhausting especially emotionally. But here were men who were getting on with the business of living life fully even when they worked exhausting jobs earning peanuts. There was something grown up in their play, something which I am sure inspired the onlooker to chuckle and smile kindly.
When Adults Play
This week’s update is as much about when adults fall as much as when adults play. It pays to smile, to laugh, to play, when things are not as well as they could be. What are you doing to play, traveler? Remember falling is a part of playing. Next week I hope to add another installment to this play question. Especially as I ponder life further, bathe in cold water and become Kuziwa more and more. I will chant my mantra and I accost life’s cold water challenges, Van Damme, Schwarzenegger, Van Damme Schwarzenegger ….meditations on migration out…Van Damme Schwarzenegger
I like the pictures you paint with your words Allen