Grey Folds of Skin in the Dust

Like many, I feel sure that time is moving faster, and that a month, indeed a minute, is no longer the same stretch of time that it was in the last century.  

What else could explain 2013 already reaching mid April, and we've barely caught our breath and got our act together post Christmas and summer hols?  

Where did the annual milestones like Valentine's Day, Easter, the switch to Southern Hemisphere Autumn and the first scholastic term disappear to?  I'm too busy to mourn my empty nest; writing deadlines are causing blood pressure issues and I feel as though I'm a rag doll swirling around in a cyclone - not touching sides, always dashing from one commitment to another, falling behind with 'things to do' on the dreaded lists that vainly attempt to keep my life in order.  A last ditch effort to control my body before it reaches implosion point has also done little more than add stress lines and an elevated heart rate - due to falling behind and not being able to keep up with the internet Boot Camp's  daily exercises and dietary tips, hence another failure!

You may well laugh, but  middle age spreading is scary - resembling perfectly the bread making process.  First, some solid and basic ingredients are tossed into a bowl.  Lots of kneading and punching later, a much needed rest reveals...the dough doubled in size!!  That's kinda like my 40's - loads of activity just ended in a soft, doughy, pudgy mass, oozing into a dress size several sizes larger.

Anyhow, onto more interesting observations - grey folds of skin, bulging, rotund, just begging to be embraced. Not a cuddly elephant -  Adansonia digitata - the magnificent Baobab tree. Baobabs are the plant kingdom's elephant, and there are plenty here in Tete.  They're everywhere, in all silhouettes and sizes, each one succulent and rounded. For me, their striking outline has become as much a symbol of Africa as the giraffe silhouetted against a sunset. 

Enormous, bold, voluptuous, striking in their magnificence, commanding attention and awe.  Did you know that they can reach 30 metres high and have trunks 11 metres in diameter?  Some specimens are rumoured to be thousands of years old, but that's hard to verify, as the wood doesn't have annual growth rings.  Ascertaining the age of a Baobab would have to be done by radiocarbon dating.

Besides the expected use of tree parts - fruit, leaves, wood, mankind have found some more unusual uses.  A baobab near Derby, Western Australia, was used as a prison when transporting prisoners!  In South Africa, big specimens have been turned into pubs or used as hiding places for entire families in times of war and unrest.

The San have a beautiful legend about the Baobab.  They say that the Great God, Glaoan, climbed a tree to pluck a fruit.  The tree, to tease him, lifted it's branches higher and higher, keeping the fruit out of reach.  In a fury, he created a tempest which ripped the tree from the earth and flung it skywards. It landed upside down, roots exposed, and has remained this way ever since.  If you haven't read Candi Miller's 'Kalahari Passage', do yourself a favour and do so.  Her gripping read, a political love story / thriller will both enthrall and horrify you as you sit up all night reading, unable to put it down.  But it's the detailed description of San life, culture, legend and history that keeps the pages turning as fast as they can.

I've seen the trees in full leaf and dressed in winter bareness, but have yet to see the flowers.  I can't wait. The baobab's white flowers are pollinated at night by bats, and apparently, inside the hard coconut-like shell of the velvety green fruit are seeds coated in powder that is sharp and tangy to taste, the powder being used in food and drinks.

I say apparently, because we still haven't managed to crack open the baobab fruit I collected last month.  It has withstood assault from assorted weapons - Alan's huge survival knife, my less impressive kitchen assortment, even my dad had a go with a vice, hacksaw and various scary implements dug out of his garage - to no avail.  In frustration I banged the damn thing against my head, and regretted that tantrum - it hurt!  Clearly, these things open when they are ready and meant to, and mankind's attempts to interfere with it's natural order are scorned!

Anyhow, the tree is fascinating and each specimen intrigues.  Like the one down the road, wide trunk split open to reveal the large termite hill growing inside it!  Or the blasted tree we saw in Malawi, clearly the victim of a lightning strike, looking for all the world like a Welwitschia, or discarded banana peel.

These silent giants, grey and ghost like, covered in the infernal Tete dust, reassure that Africa endures.  Long after the coal mines are emptied here, the trees will remain.  And that's a good reminder that do as we might, nature will merely nod her head and patiently survive.