Next stop in Africa is Harare, Zimbabwe. The highlight of the flight down from Addis was looking down at the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro projecting through the clouds, about midway through the flight. My Iphone camera did not unfortunately do justice to the spectacle. Arrival in Harare was a series of pleasant surprises, as the airport turned out to be surprisingly modern in appearance (although later I was informed that it is actually 15 years old, just “sparingly used”). Once we left the airport, passing under a big arch built to commemorate the independence of Zimbabwe from the erstwhile British ruled Rhodesia in 1980, we saw broad well tarred roads and large bungalows, far removed from the shanties of Addis. The downtown was bustling with large imposing buildings such as the High Court, several large hotels, and a lovely park named Harare Gardens, where I had a couple of pleasant walks later during my
stay. I learned from my host that the history of Zimbabwe is one of bloodshed and economic chaos, with a bloody civil war at the time of independence resulting in the eviction of the dominant British agriculturists, and then several years of ‘hyperinflation’ when the value of the local currency plummeted and much of the local populace fled. At the imaging center I visited, the general manager informed me that at the worst point of hyperinflation they needed to revise the scan rates every two hours, as the waiting room would otherwise fill up with locals sensing a good deal on their scan! And so, although I found Harare beautiful with its wide roads, orderly traffic (despite mostly nonoperational traffic lights), jacaranda trees and superb crisp air (reminiscent of Delhi in the 70’s), I was told time and again by many nostalgic Zimbaweans that it is used to be much much better. It is now an economy in revival and the results of an election next year are eagerly anticipated. At a visit to a private clinic I was shown many interesting cases, including MRIs of cysticercosis, Herpes encephalitis, HIV-related lymphoma and MRA’s of several large vascular malformations. At a subsequent visit to a large government hospital, I was taken aback by the large wards with patients (both adults and children) sitting, or lying patiently awaiting their treatment, with an air of complete trust and hope. My escort was a radiologist who had recently returned to Zim from Australia. It gave me goosebumps when a pediatrician on being introduced to him and informed of his recent return, said sweetly and simply “Thank you for coming back”. A statement like that rewards one more profoundly than any national accolade.