We pull over after passing a simple set of dwellings in northeastern Zimbabwe. We are here to view to Total Eclipse of the sun, which will magically occur in the late afternoon of the Winter Solstice, June 21, 2001. We've driven north from the capital city of Harare perhaps 225 km to Mount Darwin, and then east to the small rural village of Rushinga. The group we're with have previously been granted permission to observe here on a remote dirt and weed airstrip located across from the modest clinic and school that were the recipients of some small contributions from our Astronomy Magazine tour. This tiny hamlet happens to be on the center line of the eclipse, and from the look of things our three Blue Arrow tour buses (holding approximately 120 astronomer-adventurer types) could be the biggest thing the residents of Rushinga have ever experienced.

After some unloading, milling about and eventually setting up (all the high-technology equipment among the small family farms and locals here seems very odd and misplaced) we're off as a group across the tar and up 100 meters to the school and clinic. We have been asked to visit and peruse what our modest contributions have provided.

As we approach a group of what appears to be middle-school girls begin a program of singing and performance. A quick estimate of attendance puts the group at perhaps 300 locals from the surrounding hills and farmland.

The preschool children (well-dressed and absolutely well-behaved -- and I have an idea that this is always the case -- not just for visitors) are to the right and flanked by older children. In front, and with the brightly-painted clinic as a backdrop, are the singers -- led by an elegant black gentleman in his 60's dressed impeccably in a gray suit. After a few songs and dances the boys take the stage, all dressed similarly in white shirts and blue trousers. This is obviously an important event, and apparently we are the honored guests.

After the performances we witness the local dignitaries' thank-you speeches (very sincerely delivered and positive in tone) and a local politician (member of the Zimbabwean Parliament) delivering the standard verbose politico stuff (albeit not excruciatingly long) concluding with the suggestion that return visits to observe additional eclipses might be in order; he obviously unaware that Total Solar Eclipses are absolutely site and time/date specific. This concept has not escaped the consciousness of the schoolchildren, teachers, headmaster or clinic staff, however; amazingly this basic astronomical tenet is only misunderstood by the local politico!

It is difficult to articulate how honored Cheryl and I (and, I'm sure the rest of the observing group) feel; we're, of course, no one special -- but we are treated so wonderfully.

The last speaker, an articulate and formally dressed women in her 50's, first thanks us both collectively and individually for our gifts (Cheryl presents blow-bubbles to the primary school teacher -- I give a previous eclipse photograph to the school and science teacher) and then suggests that we might converse with one another and tour the facilities. Cheryl speaks with the primary school teacher, I with Moses, the science teacher; they also happen to be married. We exchange pleasantries (and addresses). Moses is also the headmaster of another primary school as well as the science teacher for the entire district. I inquire about the secondary graduation rate; Moses notes "the people are rather poor here, and typically cannot afford secondary school." "Most of the children do receive a primary education, however" he continued. The cost per semester for primary school is Z$ 300-400 (equivalent to US$ 6-8 at the official government exchange, but realistically more like US$ 3-4 at the most recent private devalued rate. "And for secondary school, it is much more expensive, so many Zimbabwean children cannot participate." We learn that the rate for one semester of secondary school is ~ Z$1000-1200, or US$ 10-12. So for what amounts to a restaurant tip or perhaps 2 beers at an American baseball game, Zimbabwean children may very well not be able to avail themselves to a secondary education. Meanwhile, President Robert Mugabe's storm troopers roam the countryside, exalting in the good times brought to the citizens during his 20 year leadership, and also occasionally executing opposition party members.

Point-in-fact; when Robert Mugabe took over the former Southern Rhodesia after a fiercely-contested majority rule independence struggle in 1980 there was a prevailing feeling that self-rule by a member of the Shona tribal system was a good idea. After years of failed domestic policies, severe and continuous devaluation of the currency (the $Z has realistically devalued by an unbelievable 50% during our 3-week visit!) and the outrageous use of Zimbabwean warplanes in the Congo's most recent civil war -- Mugabe's time has clearly run it's course. His government, morally bankrupt and corrupt, hangs on by rewriting the recent history of Zimbabwe's independence. There actually exist Mugabe cronies who claim to be "war vets" -- given that the war was in the late 1970's and the majority of these individuals are in their 20's, that "fact" would have to be challenged. No matter -- the locals (especially in the rural areas) are flooded with propaganda and terrorized by the "war vets" -- and legitimate landowners and farmers have occasionally lost their land to pro-Mugabe squatters. The shame of it is that these farms are often black-owned, but even if they aren't, the majority of superintendents and ranchers are black. As such then, by "occupying" these once-productive farms the squatters (read "homeless unskilled street people") essentially render the farms useless -- they very often possess no farming skills. Nevertheless, these government cronies and shills do severely effect the otherwise peaceful and highly productive rural areas of Zimbabwe.

It's odd to be a visitor and still be aware of all these details -- this is because the average rank and file Zimbabwean, both black and white, is well-educated and articulate -- and wishes and deserves real democratic leadership, not the vestiges of a totalitarian dictator masquerading as a populist. Yet Mugabe was "democratically" elected. (Often threats by Mugabe supporters to a person's family closely precede an election.) In 2002 (next year) new presidential elections will be held, and everyone (really!) we've met is willing to engage in what I perceive as virtual total freedom of speech, especially concerning the subject of the upcoming elections and the present state of Zimbabwe. I contemplate that this is because these native Zimbabwean's have grown up with this basic constitutional right -- much like in the West, where the right of freedom of speech is assumed, so protest and opposition certainly and continually exist. These good people are very aware of Mugabe's shortcomings and are also very prepared to replace him. They know they deserve better and speak out openly about it.

After the delightful presentations and discussions we do, in fact, tour the clinic and discover 3 patient's rooms with 3 beds each, an examining and operating room and a locked medication area. Everything has also been recently painted and outfitted apparently with the aid of our contributions. We're really honored to be guests of the people of Rushinga.

It's 2 hours later and after some long minutes of partial phases, totality is upon us. Bonnie Gordon of Astronomy Magazine finally appears a bit relaxed -- apparently she feels responsible if on these eclipse outings cloudiness spoils the proceedings. She's been nervously pacing about (not unlike myself) during the partial stages. Her associate, the soft-spoken Senior Editor Rich Talcott is also on hand for help and consultation. He's been moving around in the crowd, patiently answering any and all questions and graciously admiring many of the astronomers' high-tech instruments. Mark Laidig, a participant with us on safari previous to the eclipse, is projecting the sun's rapidly advancing eclipsed image for the villagers and Bonnie's husband Peter has been shooting digital photographs of the eclipsed sun and local villagers' faces. The exciting diamond ring event occurs and then the magnificent solar corona appears, in full glory, with exquisite red prominences encircling the sun. The villagers are chanting and singing. Simon, from the local astronomy club, suddenly abandons his research telescope and camera to reinform the villagers that they can look at the sun during totality. (They've apparently been told by the government not only that it is dangerous to look even at totality, but also that months of bad economic times may very well follow the eclipse.) I personally have no doubt that this will occur, but I don't believe the eclipse will have much to do with it. Nice propaganda-ish effort by Mugabe, however. This reminds me of the Central American human sacrifices that often followed such events. No matter that the shamans (in collusion with the chieftains) already were secretly aware of the natural mathematics surrounding such eclipses, and were able to predict them within minutes. The human sacrifice maneuver was merely a convenient method of removing rivals and other "undesirables." Some Rushingans do, in fact, turn around and are greeted to a grand and spiritual event. As always, totality never lasts long enough. Soon (after merely 3 minutes of totality) the diamond ring is visible again and the sun reemerges from behind the moon. Our particular day of reckoning has ended on a positive note, and weary astronomers pack up and board the busses for home.

Harare has 2 daily newspapers. One, The Herald, is a shill for the President's political party. The other (The Daily News) is an opposition rag, proudly displaying the header "Telling It Like It Is." Today, the day after the spectacular Total Solar Eclipse, the headline of The Herald proclaims "Presidential Family Views Solar Eclipse" and features a photograph of Robert Mugabe and his new young wife sipping cocktails from the garden while peering through mirrored eclipse glasses. The headline of The Daily News reads "Police Attack Villagers." On page 2 The News announces that they will be featuring a new serialized version of George Orwell's Animal Farm starting tomorrow. The day of political reckoning in Zimbabwe is fast approaching.