14. Reflecting Matobo

Please visit the The Arts in Focus to obtain information about our 2014 Matopos Calendar - 

an initiative supporting rhino conservation in Zimbabwe.

I had a dog during a period of my life when I really needed a good friend. Although he died young, he helped me through the turbulent teenage phase, and he helped me well. Jack had an incredible and uncanny way to sense my mood. On those vibrant exuberant spring days so characteristic of the lowveld where I grew up, he would adjust his behavior either to complement or to accommodate mine. When I was happy Jack would bounce alongside me, panting in anticipation. When I was sad or lonely he would simply walk next to me, watching me, to be there for me, strong and powerful, the rock against which I could lean. When I sat at a waterhole watching a herd of impala drink, he would push his body right up against mine and lean his head on my shoulder with a wet nose in my neck, breathing gently onto my skin. That would have its magic effect on me and soon my mood would improve, and invariably Jack would run ahead in the footpath, towards home, happy with his personal achievement, wagging his tail because his master was in a better mood.

 Many years have past since I spent a real thought on Jack, that is until I got to know Matobo better. As with my dog, Matobo senses my moods and, more importantly, my needs. My mood is reflected in the atmosphere as I move through this incredible landscape. How is it possible that this place can easily mold itself around the emotional needs of a man, in fact of all the people there?

I go to Matobo as an escape from the sadness in me… and Matobo accepts me and reacts in a gentle way, offering me comfort and guiding me through the rough parts in my heart. He accepts me as I am without rejecting my negative emotions. Instead, he works with them and gently, gently makes me understand, accept and handle those emotions. Subtly, he shows me the blue sky and the new fresh leaves, a gust of wind may bring new smells and who can remain sad when you smell the first rain on dry soil?

I once went to Matobo to seek peace, cause I was angry at life, angry at what happened to my mother, angry that life is unfair and walked long and hard through the rocky landscape, and this time Matobo reflected my anger. Again my feelings were not rejected, simply accepted and dealt with. The thorns of the acacias ripped through my skin, bit into, and tore bits of leather from my shoes. The granite rocks, hot in the midday sun, reflected my own anger in heat, and where I had to lean against the rocks to regain my breath it burnt like the fury in me. The place was angry and he was not afraid to show me his anger. I sensed his immense anger and it shocked me into silence. I stopped to think. Was Matobo angry for my own reasons? Or was he angry because of his own reasons? Perhaps the grass that was burnt, the rhino that were poached or the gold panning in the rural areas, scarring its surface? No matter the reasons for his fury, I could feel it in the trees and rocks and boulders. I could hear it in his angry roars. The incessant cicadas were screaming it out in frequencies and decibels that befit the anger of the behemoth.

I thought about my own anger. I tried to justify it, fight it out, even screamed it out but my own human voice faded in the rocks and did not carry like the roar of a lion or the call of the fish eagle. It faded into insignificance and fell limp at my feet. I was defeated. Defeated by anger.

Matobo understood and allowed me space. Allow does not mean pamper. It does not mean he agreed and supported my anger. He only reflected it, showing me what it is, showing me the futility - the lion does not roar its anger, nor does the fish eagle call his anger over the echoing valleys. They communicate in peace and harmony, and therefore the valleys are prepared to perpetuate those good sounds, amplify them and echo them. But my anger was simply absorbed and muffled in the thick vegetation. There is no harmony in the voice of human anger!

Just as my dog many years ago coached me out of my anger, Matobo did it too. Once you vented your anger, fought the fury of it and the blood on your arms and legs dry up and can be scratched off, exposing the torn skin, then all you have from your blind fury is the burning sensation of thorns and nettles and abrasions from sharp unforgiving granite. The rage of fury at least brings some understanding, even if it is only the understanding of defeat.

Humbled by this experience I lay on my stomach amongst the ever-present lichens and let their brilliant colors permeate my heart and mind. Matobo, is like a great big mirror, a channel of vision straight into your heart and mind. In its wisdom it allows you to see yourself the way you are. It reflects the real you, and many times that is not what you want to see. For it is this image we have within us that we want to hide from the rest of the world.

Matobo however has a way to help you deal with it. At first it will show you who you are, what you look like, then it will allow you to go through your motions and tantrums… but slowly it will reel you in. You will walk out on top of a large rock/dwala, into the breeze. The anger will suddenly drain out of you, induced by the cool breeze in your face. You will breathe in deeply, perhaps for the first time today. Your mood will changes as you allow this place to guide you and mold you back into the shape you ought to be. Just allow it. Don’t fight it for longer than you need to. Bend your ways like the water bends the reflections of the reeds in the early morning. It will slowly bring you around the way the wind flows through the valleys, then it will show you the other side, the better side. The beauty within.