Monday, September 12, 2011

August in Tanzania: the land of Triple S, (Simba, Sea and Spice)





Photo links:



In Dar es Salaam, Arusha, Ngorogoro Crater, the Serengeti, and Zanzibar we experienced the Republic of Tanzania.  In retrospect we seized the wrong approach to explore Tanzania.  There is no ambition to return *as a tourist*.  Yet, I would wholeheartedly participant in a development program. Those people we met who were in the country as part of NGOs or humanitarian projects seemed to have a much more positive experience.  The month we spent in the Republic was a fascinating orientation to this impoverished country.  The overall impression is one of being exploited for our money while being forced into the captivity of golden cages.  Real life occurs elsewhere.  It was our most expensive travel adventure, ever.  To put it into perspective, we spent more per day than the average person in Tanzania earns in a year.

It is straightforward:  The tourist is eagerly invited and politely welcomed…to be unapologetically exploited.  Polite ‘eat or be eaten’ seems to be a pervasive street sentiment.  To travel with our usual custom of making sincere contact with local people was prohibitively difficult in Tanzania.  Men were clearly and singularly interested in our money. By tradition, women remained modest, subservient, and unapproachable behind their jilbaab, abaya, or kanga.  Children practiced, (with gleeful difficulty), their *mean glare look* while extending a hand, palm up, gesticulating demands for gifts, expecting us to strip ourselves of our watches, hats, sunglasses, rings and shoes.  After experiencing such activity on the streets of Dar, Arusha, and Stone Town, we gladly accepted the invitations from private drivers who whisked us away to our heavily barricaded plush tourist hotels well guarded by Masai morani.  In the gilded cages of the private car or hotel, we stared at all that was new to us, wishing for another way to participate comfortably in quotidian life.  While providing the necessary safety, the barriers stifled personal activity and liberties we take for granted in the U.S.

It is not to say that the tourist agencies were not good.  Quite the contrary.  Masai Wanderings for safari and Pongwe Beach Hotel for Zanzibar were excellent choices and live up to their online reputations.  The U.K. ex-pats who operate these businesses knew exactly for what we were searching, and supported us, to the degree that Tanzania allows tourists.  Highlights were the visits to tribal villages offered through local connections of Masai Wanderings.  We visited the Iraqw, (agriculturalists and brick makers), the Datoga (blacksmiths), the Hazabe (bushmen hunter gatherers), and the Masai (warrior nomads).  While better than museum exhibits, it was a bit of a put off that these visits were clearly orchestrated as displays for the tourists, therefore, as artistic versions of daily life.  Admittedly, if we were to ‘go native’ authentically, I agree that we would have been much distressed by the harshness of daily life, and in my case, the imbalance of work and subservience of the women.  While there is variety, most families live in stick and mud single room huts with open air windows (if any) and dirt floors.  The women and children carry from great distances daily water and firewood supplies.  Food source is as much from what can be extracted from the surrounding earth as what is purchased or traded at informal street-side tiny markets.  Publicly organized sanitation methods are rudimentary, if existent.

More to say:
-         Jambo! Karibu!  Akuma matata!  Lala salama! Asante sana!  We learned to exchange Swahili pleasantries from citizens who hold politeness in high esteem.  Americans could learn a lesson or two in politesse.
-         Proud people:  Modestly, cleanly, and elegantly clothed women and men.  Americans could learn another lesson or two in personal grooming and presentation when in public.
-         Ecological balance in the Serengeti:  We watched for an hour as a cheetah finished his kill and meal of a wildebeest.  Once satisfied, he shuffled away with full belly hanging nearly to the ground.  Meanwhile, the hovering vultures began to attack the remaining meat, only to be pushed away by arriving hyena.  First one came loping through the grass, then it was followed by hordes of others who travelled great distances from hiding and to the killing field.  The hyena’s cackling laugher and crunch of jaws breaking bones disturbed the otherwise quiet scene.  A jackal hovered for a surreptitious grab of a few shards of meat.  The argumentative vultures returned for the final scraps.  Within one hour we had witnessed the finish of a kill and complete consumption of the wildebeest, leaving only a neatly cleaned skull as evidence that a violent meal had just taken place.  Except for these short term acts of violence, most on the Serengeti is quiet beautiful serenity.  Animals, if they move, do move in a slow and graceful dance with nature.  Animals resourcefully consume while keeping their habitat clean and sanitary.  Why can’t urban humans do the same?
-         Hazabe bushmen kill and consume a kudu in 45 minutes:  Masai Wanderings arranged for us to join a Hazabe clan for their daily hunt.  After an early morning fireside greeting ceremony that included the hunters smoking copious amounts of marijuana, we trotted behind a dozen young men clad in dirty skin or kanga chest cloths and soiled shorts, wearing sandals crafted from the rubber of old truck tires.  Their weapons:  belt knives and self-made bows with poisoned arrows.  For several hours we quietly followed the hunters as they searched for prey.  We were constantly falling behind as we delicately extracted hair, clothing, and skin from the pervasive thorn bushes, trying not to cry or say ‘ouch’ too loudly.  It was an embarrassment of our ineptness.  We missed the actual shot from the bow, yet moments later, the victorious hunter ‘clicked’ the story of his success and rounded up his fellow hunters to help him track down the poisoned male kudo.   Within minutes, the now dead kudo was dragged out of the bush and the young chief began to skin the beast whilst the youngest started a fire, (from stone and stick).  Before we could count, the flesh had been sectioned, ribs barbequed and eaten, poisoned bits fed to the fire, and other waste given to the domestic bush dogs trailing the hunters.  The butchering field was cleaned until there was no trace of it with branches of bush.  After more drags on the marijuana pipe, the lumps of flesh were hefted back to the home hearth around which stories of the hunt were ‘clicked’ to those who had remained behind.  A victory dance was performed, we were taken to meet the womenfolk who had been hiding in the bush, and we drove back to camp for our own breakfast.  With newfound respect for the skill of these bushmen, we marveled at our experience.
-         Tippu Tip’s house in Stone Town:  Tippu Tip is famous for being one of the most ruthless slave drivers in Africa’s history.  His house still stands in Stone Town.  Normally, it is not open to the public for it is a private apartment building.  As luck would have it, one of the dwellers noticed us admiring the architecture and invited us inside for a tour.  I could swear that he was a descendant of the man himself, looking just like the photos, right down to the elegantly wrapped head scarf.  I don’t know what was more eye-opening:  the history of Tippu Tip’s life, as recounted by the kind guide, or what we saw of the current apartment home life within.  When slavery was legally banned Tippu Tip surreptitiously continued his business by bringing the slaves from a boat through a tunnel and into the ground floor of his house via a hidden staircase accessible through a stone covering in the vestibule floor.  While the slaves were secretly chained below, his family lived above!  Now, the building shows only decayed signs of it’s earlier days of elegance.  As we ascended multiple staircases I discretely used the art of rock climbing, (ensuring that at least two of my appendages were firmly grasping ‘solid ground’), in event that the staircase would collapse underneath me.  Apartment dwellers, who were modestly dressed muslim women and girls, cast unpleasant stares at Karoline and me from behind their veils while crouching inactively on the floors, lingering in the vestibule and hallways, away from public life.  The shared kitchen was nothing more than an open air room with a charcoal fire pit in the middle of the floor and vats of water lining one wall.  Austere rooms furnished with barely a piece of warped, unfinished and instable furniture allowed room for our voices to echo throughout the building.  Dirt, garbage and filth left us feeling uneasy.  Even though we generously tipped the gentlemen for the private tour, nevertheless, the children lined the staircase, tugged at our clothing hems, hands out, asking for more.
-         Hilarity cast in brick:  An Iraqw host proudly escorted us around his village of farmland and brick factories.  Pausing at his cousin’s brick making concern, we made acquaintance with young men, (14-16 years old?), who were in the midst of shoveling earth into pits, mixing with water, then scooping the mud into wooden molds.  Yet other young men would carry the filled molds into the sun for drying.  One of these handsome carriers was an obvious admirer of Karoline.  Upon noting her gaze towards him, he quickened his step in proud display of his deftness.  However, as he jogged up an incline to the drying field with a newly filled frame in hand, he slid, lost balance, and did a face plant into the brick mud.  Slowly, his face came out of the mold, and, looking sheepish, he wiped the dripping mud from his face.  In shame, he ran away to wash off his face.  Karoline’s eyes grew as round as a Caucasian’s.  His uncles, who had arrived a few moments earlier to gape at us, cruelly guffawed.  We took a peek in the affected brick mold and saw there a lovely face imprint with the nose deep set in ooze.  Still now, we can’t help but to have tears in our eyes from laughter over this youth’s misfortune in gallantry.
- Colorful kanga-clad sashaying women:  The favored outer garment for Tanzanian women is the kanga.  It is a most versatile garment used as skirt, blouse, head scarf, baby and goods carrier, or cushion for carrying a load on top of the head.  I use mine as beach cover up, beach towel, blanket, and tablecloth. Kanga patterns and colors carry meaning.  Each has a printed saying (originally in Arabic, now, more commonly in Swahili).  The ones I purchase say in Swahili “Wish God to celebrate the new day”, “Wish for you to be happy with our kids”, “I live with somebody for happy times and bad times”, and, “If somebody give something it is difficult to take off”.  More about kanga traditions:  http://archive.lib.msu.edu/DMC/African%20Journals/pdfs/political%20science/volume1n1/ajps001001011.pdf .  How to wear a Kanga:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xw4FI-9rlYA  . How to tie a head wrap:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P886cwAoAnc&feature=related  .  How to wear a kanga/sarong:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUtETAb96TA  .
-         Ramadan white:  While waiting for our flight from Cairo to Dar, we shared the café space with hundreds of white clad Muslims observing Islamic traditions during the first days of Ramadan.  Most seemed in destination for Jeddah.  They brought their own meals to share with one another.  It is too early for Hajj, yet this seemed to be what they were doing.  Men, clad only in Turkish towels, spent hours in the hallway and bathroom, splashing water around such that it flooded beyond the doors of the bathroom.  Gerhard was unable to use the mens room as it was overrun by devote men and performing ablutions.
-         The Zanzibar hotel Emerson and Green rooftop restaurant provides a wonderful venue to avoid the chaos of the Stone Town streets below and a panoramic view of the city while enjoying a sundowner.  The Serena hotel is a lovely place for sipping a sundowner and watching the dhows carry tourists on sunset tours. 
-         Tanzania could compete with Cairo for the honor of the ‘place that never sleeps’.  Sounds and activity constantly abound.  Early morning on Pongwe beach the sing song voices of women and children pass with the breeze from their low tide attentions to shellfish gathering and seaweed harvesting.  An alarm ‘coos’ and we blame each other for falsely setting our various digital alarms, only to realize that a bird just outside our room sings with the same gusto and melody as our electronic devices.  The surf pounds on the beach.  Beach boys exclaim ‘Jumbo, Mambo’, willing us into lengthy negotiation for their trinkets.  At night in the Serengeti animals of all sorts crush brush underneath just outside our camp tents.  Lions roar and elephants trumpet.  In Stonetown, callers herald the time for prayer from the multitude of mosques.  At evening prayer, melodic chants escape from behind mosque doors.  Gospel song reverberates from walls of Christian churches.  Late into the evenings we hear the melodic thump of drums as locals enjoy Taraab music.  From their palm tree homes, from dusk to dawn, bush babies cry with an alarmingly ear penetrating “caw, caw, caw”. 
-         Blessed are we in the U.S. to enjoy the privileges of civilized society, (except when it comes to cellular coverage).  By ‘civilized’ I mean publicly planned and managed infrastructure for the good of all.  Obstacles to daily living abound in Tanzania.  Newspapers write of increasing human and domestic animal deaths from wildlife encroaching on human territory.  Masai children must travel many kilometers on foot for school – there are no other viable transportation options – and must risk their lives for fear of hyena attacks.  Public education is available, yet must be paid for at the equivalent of $60 per student, (in a country where the average annual income is around $300).  Personal safety must always be guarded.  Highway robbers not only steal but also kill.  Our home exchange family from Rome told the story of their friend who was killed for her pocket change will on a motorcycle trip in Zanzibar.  Gerhard was deftly pick pocketed on a busy shopping street in Dar during broad daylight.  Drivers locked our car doors as soon as we entered.  Police roadblocks are set up frequently to inspect cars.  Each hotel sits behind a high fence, with private guards on 24x7 alert.  I buy a $3 street map of Stone Town and within 3 hours it had been lifted from the outer pocket of my backpack.  I read a newspaper article that offered safety tips to women, citing street and domestic violence as a pervasive national problem, with few legally implementable support services.  Cars were lacking petrol:  the government reduced taxes by 9% with the command that gas stations must reduce their prices accordingly.  Gas stations refused, having bought their current inventory on the old/higher prices, therefore, claimed they were ‘out of inventory’, and closed.  Our driver, for a 25% premium, bought gas on the black market for our return drive from the Serengeti.  Most roads are rough dirt that encourage frequent automobile breakdowns.  Meanwhile, repair services are few and far between.  Small business owners are thwarted by primitive transportation options.  Railroad had been a dream, yet now the 30+ year old system is in unreliable decay.  Electrical power needs far outstrip available supply.  Hotels must build in generators.  One hotel had back up capacity for only 6 hours, whereas the power outage lasted far longer.  We were eating dinner by candlelight and could not take hot showers.  While water is a plentiful clean resource in Tanzania, the infrastructure to supply it falls far short of need.  Many villages we explored had no local source so women and children had to walk kilometers, returning with water basins on their heads.  All water from taps cannot be drunk and we were obliged to drink from plastic bottles.  These plastic bottles are dropped everywhere and create urban—even rural--filth.  We stayed in one public camp site for 4 days, during which half the time we had no water.  Given that 120 people were sharing 4 toilets, 2 sinks, and 2 showers, with no supply of water, it is left for your imagination to understand our predicament.  Double the grotesqueness of your vision and that is likely to be the disgusting experience that was ours.  And, remember, we were paying for these services.  It was explained that elephants had broken into the water pipeline as a source for their own drinking water.  The (now permanent) back up system of trucking in water simply does not meet the demand.  This was not an isolated experience, yet brought personal recognition to the newspaper’s description of villages without consistent water supply or sanitation systems.  Due to power outages and further telephone company limitations, internet service, even in 4-star hotels, is slow and intermittent.  Despite promises in advertising, it was rarely available to us.  Strikingly, cell phone coverage is better and consistently available (even in the Serengeti) than what we have in Berkeley, CA.  Perhaps the explanation is that the cell phone companies are private, highly competitive, and run their own infrastructure separate from the state-owned telephone company.  Picture with me that which we saw consistently:  cloth and bead draped Masai in bare feet with cell phones planted to their ears, even while herding cattle in the barren hinterlands!
-         The land of sea and spice:  Yum yum fresh seafood was in plentiful supply on Zanzibar.  Everywhere it was easy to buy exotic fruits and juices.  Spice plantations harvest the most lucrative of spices.  Swahili cuisine takes advantage of these supplies, yet is not to my taste.  Nevertheless, I was impressed by our safari cook’s skill and the decent meals served in the hotels.  Unfortunately, not once did we enjoy the restaurant cooking or ambience experienced in Tanzania.  Even so, I am happy to report that we did not see a single McDonalds or Kentucky Fried Chicken.
-          Spice cure for acne:  Our spice plantation guide gives us the tip for a topical cure of acne.  Concoct a mixture of tumeric, egg white, a pinch of salt and as much water as is needed to make a paste.  Apply overnight and wash off with warm soapy water.
-         What to wear and bring:  For safari, 2 pair light weight long pants and long-sleeved collared shirts to protect against sun, dust and mosquitoes.  Bring a wide brimmed sun hat, sunglasses, the best binoculars and camera equipment you have, and a battery operated headlamp with spare batteries.  Expect it to be a challenge to recharge batteries.  For the feet, bring 1 pair of covered walking shoes, 2 pair of socks, and a pair of flip flops.  Don’t bother buying expensive clothes and stay away from whites.  Everything catches the dust which is impossible to completely clean away. It is probable that you will encounter rain and cold so bring a light raincoat and a fleece jacket.  Bring a towel (I used a cotton sarong/kanga for this and multiple other purposes), baby wipes, small packs of tissues, fluid soaps for hair, body and clothes and mosquito repellent.  A first aid kit will likely come in use—google for recommended contents.  Don’t bring hard-sided luggage, as the driver needs to include other equipment in the 4-wheel drive vehicle and space is limited.  For safari hotels, resorts, and city street dress conservatively by wearing outfits that cover shoulders, top of arms, and reach at minimum just below the knee.  This applies to both men and women.  Remember not to wear jewelry or expensive watches (so as not to become a target for exploitation). 
Related reading:
Out of Africa, Blixen
Memoirs of an Arab Princess, Sayyida Salme
Tippu Tip
The Sultan's Shadow: One Family's Rule at the Crossroads of East and West
Thorn Trees of Thika
Petals of Blood, Njugi wa Thiongo
Journey to the Jade Sea, John Hillaby
Into Africa: The Epic Adventures of Stanley and Livingstone
Paradise or Admiring Silence by G. Abdulan
North of South – An African Journey by Shiva Naipul
A Tourist in Africa by Evelyn Waugh
Masai Dreaming by Justin Cartwright
Cadogan Guide of Tanzania
White Masai, Corrigan
Facing the Lion: Growing Up Maasai on the African Savanna (National Geographic)
Green Hills of Africa and other Hemingway writing
Joseph Conrad books
No Man’s Land by George Monbiot
Movies: 
The Gods are Laughing (for approximation of the bushmen)
The Lion King
Tarzan
The Jungle Book
Music:
Freddie Mercury (raised in Zanzibar)
genre Taarab
Khadja Nin (and her album “sambolera”)
The song “bingo bango bongo, I’ll stay right here’

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