First two weeks Tanzania

I flew into Dar es Salaam (Dar) on Wednesday night, realizing that this trip would be an adventure, particularly since I focused on the language and culture of the refugees I'll be working with, rather than learning anything about Tanzania. FYI - Burundians speak French and Kirundi, while Tanzanians speak Kiswahili and some English. So… all of a sudden I was in this huge country, with no idea what to expect! So far, I'd heard rumors about animals & mountains (Serengeti and Mount Kilimanjaro).

My welcome wasn’t all it could have been. The airport officials in Dar wouldn’t recognize my work permit, so me and my colleague, Lloyd, got stuck there. Then my main luggage – with all my clothing in it – didn’t show up for a few days. We did get out of the airport that night, but the next day had to send our passports to the immigration office. Talking to people about this ordeal, I hear that it is a by-product of the ‘fight against government corruption’. Supposedly, officials are so accustomed to working through bribery that they’ve forgotten what the actual laws are. In fact, we were in compliance with new laws, but nobody in the airport seemed to know how to deal with our paperwork… so after a lot of stalling they just chose a stamp for our passport and let us go through. Our hotel was a more pleasant surprise - hot water, leather chairs, TV, kitchen...

In Dar we got an orientation from the IRC staff, spent some days in the city, visited the National Museum. We went out to a Bongoyo Island – a pleasant little place to swim and eat grilled prawns. We also visited the Kariakoo market, reputed as one of the largest markets in Africa. We ate some good Indian and Chinese food in town (we’d have to get out to Kasulu for some real Tanzanian food). [Pic is of a housing complex in Dar]



[A brief colonial history of Tanzania and Dar es Salaam (the largest city in East Africa):
In the middle of the 17th Century Arab slavers and traders (Indians also entered the spice trade) entered Tanzania (also called Zanzibar and Tanganyika). They created routes facilitate the slave trade, building up the port town of Dar es Salaam. Zanzibar’s sultan Seyiid Majid built Dar up as his administrative headquarters, taking advantage of the slave and ivory trade. In the mid-1800’s the British East India company had a representative at Zanzibar, acting as an advisor to the sultan.1880s, German colonized the area, and German East Africa Company established a station in Dar es Salaam. During WWI (1919) Germans were forced out by Allied forces. Britian made Zanzibar a trust and divided the city into three racially segregated “classes” – European dominated the most pleasant areas, Asians [thus my Chinese dinner] brought to work in the construction of the new colony were settled in a less modernized area, and a swamp/floodplain was left for African settlement. As the population grew, the Tanganyika African Assoc. was formed, which later became The Tanganyika African National Union (TANU), leading to independence of Tanganyika in 1961 – later to become Tanzania.]

The most amazing thing I found in the city was not only the good interior infrastructure, but the mix of cultures. There were Muslims & mosques, Christians & churches (Lutherans ave a long history in Tanzania) Europeans, Africans from many countries, Asians, and other groups all coexisting in such a compact space. There was little tension. When asked why Tanzania is like a little island of peace in this part of Africa, the response usually given is that Kiswahili and nationalism have unified the country. The country’s presidents reinforced a sort of national spirit even thought there are many tribes in the region. Kiswahili is a language shared (in part or in whole) by many countries, such as Kenya, Mozambique, Zambia, Burundi, Rwanda, Uganda, and Somalia. Another factor could be the huge amount of land here, sparsely inhabited.

In any case, it was an interesting stay in the city, but I was glad to move on to Kasulu, which will be my home for the next couple months.



Flying over the savannah was a treat, like the desert in Sudan or an ocean, it just goes on and on to the edges of the visible planet. Before descending onto a rusty-colored dirt runway we could see lake Tanganyika. Lake Tanganyika is the longest in Africa, and it would be the biggest if not for Lake Victoria to my north. The flight wasn’t all that pleasant, sitting next to a fellow who didn’t mind his own odor, and wasn’t aware of the reach of his elbows. There were nuns and Belgians, as well as some other NGO-types and many Tanzanians dressed in business suits.

The man who picked us up was named Safiri (meaning travel – same as Safari) and came from a Western tribe called the Nyamwesi. He was waiting for his first child to be born, which he told us will be named after 40 days. Perhaps this is to protect the parents from great suffering during the fragile first days, or because the child hasn’t shown signs of what personality he or she will have yet…

The roads here are covered in dust – our first Kiswahili words – vumbi nyingi – mean "much dust". The plants, normally green, are completely encrusted in the red-orange color of the earth. This extends for probably 10 feet off the road, and lasts for a half a year which is dry season. I feel bad for the people carrying or biking with heavy loads down the road, being coated by passing trucks and SUVs. [picture of green plant covered in dust]



The hotel we were in temporarily was a bit isolated but not bad – rubber chicken and French fries for dinner… but they had my favorite Tanzanian beer – Safari. Beer here has high alcohol content, about 5% if I’m correct, and the bottles are big. At the IRC office there are a lot of friendly Tanzanian nationals. Lloyd and I are getting to know everyone quickly.

The entrance into the camp was strange – a huge bunker like building with WFP on the side of it – World Food Program – the U.N, surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Guards at the gate – like a gated community – the only difference is that once the people here leave, they are not allowed to return to the camp, as the Tanzanian govt. has deemed it safe to return to Burundi and is actively, sometimes too actively, encouraging refugees to return.

I was immediately impressed by the organization and collegiality of the teachers, and since have continued to be impressed, ex. they operate on fairly current philosophies of learning and methodology. People in the camp seem very settled in, with houses of brick, just as you find outside the limits of the camp. On the other hand, like many refugees in the world served by the UN food program, they are suffering from lack of nutrition, caused by a shortage of funds from donors to buy food-stuff. This is possibly the most pressing issue that I’ve discovered so far, and really a foundation for work like mine – where children have to eat well to focus and to stay healthy enough to attend school regularly. Beyond that, however, I’m impressed by the cleanliness of the camps, the expanse of this refugee town, and newness of things.

Note: We eat at a refugee constructed restaurant called the Sheraton… don’t ask me why they chose the name, but it’s a nice little place, walled in by bamboo and covered in palm leaves which all let the light and air through. The owner is a former NGO trainee in business and food preparation. All the NGO workers seem to gather here around 1pm. The strangeness of the economy this represents makes my brain do tricks in my head.



[pic is a restaurant in the camp]
I live in a little room now with two single beds, a few tables, and a bathroom without running water. A woman named Sabina brings hot water in a bucket twice a day, and I use a little silver bowl to dump the water over myself while washing. The mornings are so cold here I had to go buy warm clothing – my long sleeves and jacket weren’t enough! It took me an hour in the bustling main market because things were generally two sizes – MAN and little kid… The closest thing I could find was this ‘gangsta’ – as Lloyd says – red and white running suit with stripes on the arms and stars down the front – nothing could be more alien here where women are draped in brilliant African print… but it feels great to be warm! At one point I got a little squirmy about mouse-pellet looking things in my room, but it turns out that I have a live-in gecko which I really appreciate with the mosquitoes and spiders around here. The neighbors work for an NGO (like half the town here) called Right to Play – and it’s just like a Canadian Peace Corps – living in a group home and making pizzas out of all local materials – inviting in visitors that happen through town.

A lesson on how things work: somehow I got sick this first week in Kasulu, and had to go to the Catholic mission hospital nearby. The nurse didn’t know how to take blood-pressure, the doctor spoke horrible English (I was trying to tell him in different ways about my ummm… indigestion… and he kept repeating back "menstruation"… and I would venture a guess that these conditions aren't related). It was pretty funny. They scrounged up a used pill box and toothpick for me to use as oollection devices, and after close analysis, they could tell me that I didn’t have worms (but not what I DID have!). They sent me home with fluorescent pink pills… Well, they seem to have worked. I finished the five day regime today, and so far so good. I’m still not so sure about the Malarone malaria pills I take though – I have some funky dreams!!!

I’m really enjoying walking around in the mountains here and I'm starting to learn Kiswahili. Strangely enough, I’ve been having a great time watching the World Cup and even went out and got a soccer ball to play with in the cool evening hours! For my two months here I won't have to worry about rain on my parade. The coordinator here is a Kenyan called Lokiru (meaning born during the rain) who is a really good soccer player and has been making an effort to teach me some techniques in exchange for dancing lessons – we’ve begun with the waltz and cha cha cha. He and Lloyd are invaluable sources of fun and insight.

I’m gong to try and keep up with this journal, now that I’m settled and my stomach is back in place. So, if you’re interested, stay tuned. I may even go visit the Gombe chimps where Jane Goodall worked, not far from here. I’m a resident Tanzanian now, so I get a good rate and might be able to make it a weekend affair!



[pic is of my house]