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the farm ceremony . In
March, I had a chance to join a ceremony in a countryside 60km south of
Harare. The hut was located in an ex-farm, which had been owned by whites
that fled after the independence of Zimbabwe in 1980. We had to walk for
an hour from the bus stop in the rain without an umbrella to get the venue
through the bush, crossing the river waters, which were waist-high. We
arrived in an African hut in the field, had supper and waited for the
night to come. There was a man who took care of us and after the meal
guided us to another hut in a sacred place. The place had been founded
by them though the guidance of the spirits which had asked them to build
a hut to be used only for the ceremony. One was not to wear red clothes,
glasses, and shoes and carry money, which would offend the ancestors.
I left the red-stripped sweater and glasses and walked in pitch darkness.
I was feeling miserable barefoot, without my glasses (I cannot see without
them) and cold, wearing only the T-shirt under my sweater. I cannot describe
much on the ceremony because I didn't see at all without the glasses (should
have brought contacts!!). However, the venue was grand. The mix of nature
and music were excellent so I kept on dancing along the mbira music, trying
not to feel the cold. There were some old ladies sitting next to me that
suddenly got possessed and started dancing scaring me a bit. Many of participants
had already been sleeping though the music went on and I fell asleep in
the end as well.
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