The Yellow Fever Tree

I have shared about some of the animals and people that we encountered during our time in Gorongosa National Park in Mozambique.  However, I must also share about a very important part of this park—the very diverse landscape.  As we drove from one area to another, the terrain changed.  There were amazing trees and shrubs that I have never seen before.

One tree dominated certain areas that we passed through.  You couldn’t miss them.  Their yellow trunks and branches made them stand out from the others.  The tree is the Yellow Fever Tree.  What a strange name!  Our guides told us that the early explorers and settlers noticed that people who slept under one of these trees were more likely to get malaria.  What they didn’t understand was that these trees grew in damp area where mosquitoes thrived and of course, we now know that they were the cause of the fever.  However, the name stuck.

I learned that these vibrant yellow trees do not actually have yellow bark even though it appears that way.  The yellow is actually a fine dust that covers the green bark.  This green bark helps with photosynthesis.  The tree’s leaves provide food for elephants while the pods are enjoyed by monkeys.  The powdered roots and stem bark are now used as an anti-malarial medication. 

When the sun hits these unique trees, they seem to glow.

Walking Down the Same Road

My husband and I returned a couple days ago from a visit with my elderly parents in the gold country of California.  They live in an area that was homesteaded by my father’s family.  Our ancestors arrived after gold was discovered nearby.  I have never lived in this area but I feel a strong connection just the same.  My father grew up in a house just up the road that is now owned by my first cousin.  His mother grew up just down the road from my parents’ home.  Her parents owned the property which is now owned by strangers.  Other relatives once lived in the area and I can remember visiting them when I was a child; some of those houses are now gone.

We took a walk down the road from my parents’ house.  As we walked I was aware that we walked the same route that my father and his mother before him walked to their one room school.  I could almost picture my grandmother as a little girl skipping down the road.  Of course, the road would not have been paved in the early 1900s and there weren’t so many houses.  However, I suspect much of the route looks the same.  Majestic oaks spread their long branches.  In the winter mistletoe dots their bare limbs.  In the ravines the blackberry bushes are thick and unfriendly.  Deer peer shyly from behind bushes while the turkeys scurry away. 

My family walked this road before me and I feel the connection.  I took photos with the hope that I could take a bit of it home with me.  This land touches my memory and my heart.

 

 

 

 

Shoes and More in Nhambita Village

During the middle of our week in Gorongosa National Park in Mozambique, we left the park to visit Nhambita Village.  Our first stop was an agriculture project supported by the park.  We saw a demonstration garden where people learned how to do sustainable gardening.  It was done all by hand.  We listened to the men who ran the project while some of the women stood nearby.  Unfortunately, it had begun to rain (and we were supposed to be in the dry season) so we tried to listen attentively while at the same time attempting to keep dry.

The rain continued as we drove to our next stop.  People waved to us as we drove by.  The children were especially friendly.  These people live in extreme poverty; we are rich in comparison.  Rain formed huge puddles, ponds even, around the little houses.

 

When we finally arrived at the school some of us were drenched despite the ponchos we were given.  The canopies on our vehicles would collect water and then at times dump it on us through the open sides.  By the time we arrived, I looked like a drowned rat.  However, once we stopped and entered the school building, our attention was on the children. 

The school was not in session at this time.  We met with girls from the Girls Club.  We sat at the back of the classroom as they welcomed us.  An adult leader told us about the club and the girls.  The girls sang and danced for us.  We were delighted.  And then it was our turn.

We brought out the bags containing the shoes that grow.  The bag I had carried still had not arrived and neither had two other bags of shoes, but enough had arrived for us to hand out these amazing shoes.  The shoes, which were made in Nampa, Idaho, are designed to lengthen and widen as the child’s foot grows.  The girls quietly lined up for a pair of shoes.  I looked at their feet—they were either barefoot or they were wearing very thin, cheap flip flops.  We took turns handing out the shoes.  When it was my turn, I handed a pair of shoes to several shy girls with the most beautiful smiles.  For me, this was one of the highlights of our trip.  (For more information about these wonderful shoes, go to https://theshoethatgrows.org/.  Help distribute shoes to kids or make a donation.)

Once we left the school, we headed for the Community Education Center.  We received a short presentation about the center before sitting down to a delicious lunch.  There were people from the community present for lunch also.  After lunch we toured the center which includes dormitories.  One of my favorite spots was the area where they make honey.  We saw the hives and the small little building, which is more like a closet, where the honey is processed.  The honey is sold in the park so before we left Gorongosa, I bought a jar of this honey to bring home.  (And yes, it is delicious.)