Anyone reading this blog post has more than likely already discovered that I went to Tanzania to visit Alli for two weeks. She’s asked me to write a guest blog post here for any followers to read. I’m fairly certain the only reason she asked me is because she knew I would say yes and she obviously isn’t doing much updating. The trip to Dar was a pain. I’m never scheduling another trip that has more layovers and changes than actual time in flight. I don’t care how “cheap” of a flight I book. I brought a wheelchair for Jemsi, a little boy with cerebral palsy whom lives next door to Alli. American Airlines and South African Aitrways were amazing in dealing with the chair through the checked luggage. I wasn't charged at all for the wheel chair and it was very oversized and not collapsible. We all constantly hear stories about airlines overcharging and being sticklers about checked luggage so I was a bit concerned that getting the chair onto the plane might be difficult. It turned out to be easier and cheaper than checking luggage. Maybe the fat cats do have a heart. However, once I arrived it was all worthwhile. I had forgotten to bring US paper currency for my visa when I arrived which forced me to wait in for almost everyone aboard my plane to be processed and then I was allowed to outside (escorted by an armed guard) to the ATM machine and currency exchange booth. That’s where I was first able to see Alli. I was drained from the flights, but in a pretty good mood – just a bit out of my element. I hardly remember the conversation we had, I’m sure it was based on getting my money and then my visa. We were able to exchange a kiss and a hug which was both amazing and awkward. I’d waited 12 months to plant one on her and yet, I wasn’t too sure that public displays of affection were allowed or commonplace in Tanzania. For a moment though, I didn’t really give a shit. Later, Alli would explain that things are much more laidback in Dar than in the rest of the country in regards to relationships and displays of affection. Fortunately I’ve never been really clingy or physical in public anyway, so this was a pretty easy social norm for me to abide by.
We made it to the hostel called the “Econo Lodge” that was situated in downtown Dar, about a 30 minute bus ride at night (without traffic) from the airport. We made it to the hostel rather easily and with little fanfare. Alli is convinced the Econo Lodge is actually the same as the U.S. chain, but I’m absolutely sure it is not. The only thing the Tanzanian Econo Lodge and the chain of “real” Econ Lodge hotels have in common are guests, cleaning ladies, beds, toilets, and showers. The last two items were reason enough for me to celebrate at the time. I had anticipated the hostel would be some sort of roach haven without any basic amenities, but those were baseless assumptions that I had crafted from my ignorance of Dar. Obviously, we weren’t staying in the Ritz, but I had no problems with our temporary digs or any other place we rested for the night throughout the remainder of the trip.
We had street food for dinner. I was hesitant to eat anything too risky because of the lack of any decent meal the prior 2 days I spent in transit. South African Airlines is a great airline – I have no gripes with them at all, but airplane food is airplane food. I ended up choosing some form of chicken wings that tasted fine, but I stared at whatever Alli ordered (some rice dish) and wished that I would have went that route. Prior to receiving our meal we were brought a basin and pitcher for us to wash our hands. I found it peculiar that one would was their hands with unclean water before eating, it seemed unnecessary. I must say the ritual of hand washing was alluring though; it didn’t matter if my hands weren’t clean by Western standards because I was in another culture experiencing the way they do things, which is a large portion of why I decided to make the trip. And seriously, how many of us wash our hands before we eat anyway?
Most of our time in Dar was spent relaxing, shopping, and eating. I was able to visit the Peace Corps headquarters/offices which was a pretty cool experience. It was here that I pieced together the wheelchair without the assistance of any hand tools which were confiscated in South Africa. I met a few ladies on the administrative staff and attempted to design a flyer for an upcoming event. Alli an her crew took me down to a shopping area that offered all sorts of amazing (presumably) handmade goods. Hopping in and out of the open air marketplace booths looking for gifts to purchase was great…for a little while. Eventually, Ben (a volunteer and friend of Alli's) and I ended up sitting on a bench waiting for the ladies to conclude their shopping adventure: Hardly any different than the cliché in the states. We ate dinner and lunch at a few sit down joints that weren't terrible but not memorable either as I can't remember what I ate or the names of the establishments. It was Alli had the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps banquet to attend which was a pretty important event for her and the other volunteers involved. During the time I spent alone I read a bit, journaled, and ventured a few blocks out of the Econo Lodge to try and buy cigarettes. I found myself lost rather quickly, overpaid for my smokes and had to ask about 5 different people how to get back to the hostel. The remainder of the evening I watched Al Jazeera in the lobby with some locals and relaxed in the room.
Dar was mysterious. I think that is the only way I can describe it. As a complete outsider with absolutely no Kiswahili to speak, I found the city to be a big surreal playground. I was overwhelmed the first morning after eating breakfast and wandering into the streets, but the anxiety dissipated and I was eager to explore. Fortunately Alli and her friends were there to babysit me for the entirety of my stay in Dar, otherwise I think my “exploring” would have been rather expensive and my understanding of the citizens minimized. There has to be a conduit to breakthrough the language barrier. Not only so that I don’t get ripped off on a pack of smokes, but also so I could begin to understand the Tanzanians that call Dar home. What are they doing today? What are you peddling over there? How much are those knock off Ray Bans? Where are you from? Why are you here? Is our interaction normal? What do you think of me? What are you notions of where I come from? None of those answers could be answered without the interpretation from Alli. It was great to have a tour guide that was skilled enough to help me maximize my stay. If I had gone to Tanzania without knowing the language or being accompanied by someone who knew the language then I would have done the “touristy” tour of Kilimanjaro, a safari, all the while staying in the comfort of a Holiday Inn or an overpriced all inclusive resort. These were the thoughts that were starting to form in my head as we made out way out or Dar and toward Singida, then onto the village Alli calls home. I would soon learn how completely lost I would have been without her and gained a smidgen of understanding about how difficult it must have been to try and transition into life in the interior of Tanzania alone.
I have to admit that I was a bit skeptical of what village life would be like. When I decided to make the trip and up until I arrived in Tanzania part of me thought that staying in hotels and resorts might be more comfortable or a better way to spend a vacations. I thought that maybe the trip should like a traditional R&R vacation. I was unsure how I would handle no electricity or running water and being in an unfamiliar and remote location. Those small worries of the unknown dissipated a day or two into the trip when we were in Dar. I became more eager to visit Alli's site and get out of the city. From the moment we arrived in Singida and then moved onto Sepuka I felt 100% comfortable. Every person I was introduced to in Sepuka seemed genuinely excited to meet me and great me and I have to say I shared the same enthusiasm. Alli had mentioned that the cultural norms in Tanzania were quite different than in the states when dealing with public social settings. Tanzanians are rarely outright rude or express any emotion other than happiness when greeting and making small talk. I assume a portion of the reason that I felt welcome in her village and didn't feel like and outsider was due to that, but I'm certain that the greetings and enthusiasm I encountered should be credited more so to the villagers being excited to meet someone new and to have an opportunity to share their country with me.
I suppose my assumptions and notions about village life in Tanzania were just the typical and ignorant type that most people who have no connection to a country in Africa have. I pictured hungry children with stomachs sticking out and extreme poverty. What I found wasn’t to the extreme that I anticipated. Obviously the majority of people I met in Sepuka were far from wealthy and life there doesn’t compare to what we take for granted here in the states. But, I as surprised to find far more infrastructure than I anticipated and many more smiling faces. I guess I thought it was going to be a really depressing place, but in actuality it wasn’t depressing at all. Life there is just different than what I consider normal and people make due with what they have. The juxtaposition of my life compared to their life resonated with me and put a lot of things into the proper perspective. I take many things for granted and after visiting I’ve been more aware and tried not stress of insignificant little things...
...check back next week for part 2 from ben's trip to tanzania...
Can't wait for Part 2!
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