May 15th 2002
Jambo! (Swahili for Hello!)
Back On The Road-Tanzania South to Malawi We were up at 4:30-no breaky (Australian, English, New Zealander and South African for breakfast) or coffee-and were on the road by 5:30. We are troopers. As the light creeps over the horizon we start to see shop signs along the road…Appointment Bar…Eggy Shop.
We spent evenings on the deck of the Mercury Bar watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean full of fishing boats and beautiful lean bodies swimming in the water. The Mercury Bar is named after Freddie Mercury, the lead singer of Queen before he died, was born just up the street. We read in a local English language newspaper that his Bohemian Rhapsody was recently voted the number one all-time most popular song in the UK. Incidentelly, the bar menu has a drink called the Monica Lewinsky-Blue Curacao, triple sec, gin and sprite. Subscript: “Find out what a bubbly body can do in a blue dressing!”
Next morning on the 14th it’s back on the ferry (hi-speed hydrofoil this time) to the truck waiting for us in Dar es Salaam where we camped at the Mikadi Beach Resort in Dar again. We fight off the Malaria “mosies” (mosquitos) in the tent with a towel before falling asleep in a heap.
Picked up a Sunday Observer-local Tanzanian paper in English; lead article: “Reading culture badly lacking” lamented the lack of interest in reading and warning that Tanzania could become isolated and left behind as the world was “changing so fast.” The advent of TVs, the Internet and use of CD-Roms, according to the article, has contributed to the decline of reading.
Subsidiary article extolled President Mkapa’s gesture to include opposition parties in a discussion of issues concerning the country. Big front page news!
A third front page article by correspondent Saum Zidadu reported on a conference on “Reporting Africa” held in Gaborone, Botswana. Ms. Connie Rapoo Garebatho, in her paper “Gender and Human Rights” said that “Negative coverage has created negative images of the African continent which has had a negative effect on the continent’s economic, political and social development, especially hurting women, and makes Africa look hopeless in the eyes of the rest of the world.”
Conference presenters said that most media houses in the developed world report negatively about Africa as not only a poor continent that it is, but also as a continent that has no hope economically, socially or politically. Most of the time Africa only makes headlines, the conferees said, when people are dying of hunger, engaged in civil wars and natural disasters…
Finally, an inside column on literature by Bernard Mapalala titled “Nelson Mandela’s Ageing Principles” gave an unflattering review of the official biography of Mandela written by Anthony Sampson that came out in 1999. Apparently many African leaders did not feel supported by Mandela after his release from prison. Well…?
Zanzibar’s native cuisine brazenly drenches seafood in local aromatic spices. At night, locals gather at Forodhani Gardens, a strip of park on the waterfront right outside the House of Wonders. Before sunset, cooks begin setting up grills and tables along the water and laying out skewers of raw seafood. You can stroll along the stalls and pick different delicacies that are then grilled in front of you by lamplight, and wash it all down with mugs of fresh sugarcane juice.
On the upper deck of the Africa House, converted from a gentleman’s club during the era of British colonial rule and rich in atmosphere, we feasted on grilled pork, calimari, mashed sweet potatoes, cabbage salad, chapatis and fresh mixed fruit smoothies served by a very gracious waiter while we watched the sun go down over the Indian Ocean. We sampled Samaki/Kuku wa kapaka, fish and chicken in coconut curry with it’s sweet, warm and spicy flavor which is common all over East Africa. Biriani is meat or chicken with a deep fried onion-based sauce served on a bed of rice.
Another night we ate at a Chinese restaurant-first Chinese since we left home; we are desperate for vegetables! I ordered crab-three huge claws whose shells were at least 1/8 inch thick. As we were leaving the restaurant, I asked the young Chinese cashier where he was from. I am Zanzibari, he said proudly, as he threw his squared shoulders back! Oh, you were born here? I am third generation he said! Are you from Hong Kong? Yes…where should we go in China…oh, stay on the east coast where they have everything new…and go to the Island of Macaw…just like Las Vegas…it’s where I went to college! What was your mother thinking, I said laughing! He said he only liked places in China that were new and modern-hated buildings and statues and old walls-means nothing to him. His dad, he said, always liked to visit those places that were boring to him. Yes, he was Zanzibari!
Tanzania
Walking around Poli Poli means “slowly, slowly” in Swahili. That is how we are learning to do everything like the others here in this hot humid equatorial country. We stop to buy a sugar cane juice drink with lime and ginger from a young fellow running long stalks of sugar cane through his little press on his little table. I don’t want ice, I say…Many of the cultural centers and their activities were closed because it was the off-season. If they don’t know the answer they will just say anything to save face…not a good thing if you are asking for directions…
You hear American Rap playing all over Africa. There is a definite feeling of solidarity with African-American youth…our own guys have let the cat out of the bag…a lot of the younger women wear plaited hair. A lot of adolescents have little tiny dreadlocks-girls and boys.
No one wants their photos taken here unless they are paid. Bob asked to take a picture of an artist who was working on some of the famous Ting Ting paintings in a local cooperative compound. Artist said “sure!” Then he said that it would cost $2.
Beach Boy Answer to Poverty
Beach Boys are a pain in the arse. They don’t want to work because they can get more money wearing flip-flops. smoking hash and hustling tourists, the smart young woman behind the reception desk of the hotel says. They aren’t selling anything-just want to hook you up with a taxi, hotel, or a tour and then they get a commission. Or the most frustrating thing-they come up to you with a “Good morning, how are you?” If they get eye contact and an answer they know they have have you. (You don’t want to be the stone-faced unkind westerner.) Then they introduce themselves to you and ask your name. Then they ask you where you come from. They will want to know where in the US you live. They will give you advice, give you directions, explain the history of the area and tell you how to keep yourself safe and all of this distracts you from what you are doing and keeps your attention on them.
It is also a misuse of the African custom of exchange by which a person, after giving you something (in this instance information) expects something back (in this instance money). So we have figured two answers to this problem. One goes like this: Bob hired a motor scooter from George who seemed to be pretty straight. So on the last day in Stonetown we paid him 3000 shillings, or about $3 to take us around to the optical shop, barber shops and to drive us to the ferry at noon. Not one tout bothered us as long as we were with George and George was very happy. So from now on I think we will try to find a guy we are comfortable with and just pay him to go around with us. The second answer is to be blind and mute-don’t give them eye contact and don’t answer them-which is hard for me because my nature is to connect with others.
After Independence from Britain in 1963, Dr. Julius Nyerere was Tanzania’s beloved president for nearly 30 years until his death in 1999. The cornerstone of his policies were based on the Ujamaa Village, a collective agricultural venture run along traditional African lines. He sought to ensure that those in political power did not develop into an exploitative class.
In the 1800’s, Zanzibar, however, was ruled by the Arab country of Oman and was important to the Arabs as a slaving center. In fact, you can visit the Old Slave Market in what is now Darajani Market. Unfortunately, after independence was won from Britain, and even though the Afro-Shirazi party won a majority in the elections the government somehow was formed by an Arab minority which infuriated the Africans. Outraged, they organized an armed revolt and abolished Arab rule. The president of Zanzibar now is Benjamin Mkapa.
You can visit Dr. Livingstone’s Exhibition Room where Livingstone stayed in 1866 during the preparation of his last journey into Africa where he led an expedition to suppress slavery by means of “civilizing influences” and to discover the source of the Nile. But he was not heard from for several years so in 1870 he was met on Lake Tanganyika in the present day Democratic Republic of Congo by a rescue party led by Henry Morton Stanley who greeted him with the famous remark, “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?” Stanley and Livingstone explored the area north of Lake Tanganyika together. He died in 1873. His servant dried his body and carried it and his papers on an 11 month journey to Zanzibar-a trip of 1000 miles. The people buried his heart in Africa as he had requested, but his body was returned to England and is buried in Westminster Abbey.
May 11-15 2002 City of Stone Town Island of Zanzibar
The tropical island of Zanzibar has a more cosmopolitan and warm and open ambiance than other African countries we have been in-more like the islands off Thailand. Zanzibar is an island partner in the United Republic of Tanzania. It is made up of Pemba and the Unguja Islands, also known as the Spice Islands, along with about 50 small islands. The official languages are Swahili and English and the population including the Island of Pemba is just under 100,000. The religions are Muslim, Hindu, Christian and Traditional Beliefs. Per Capita yearly income is U.S. $190.
Stone Town, the capital, is often the first stop for travelers. After getting off the three-hour ferry from Dar es Salaam, Bob and I chose the Baghani House Hotel, with a nice quiet room with a real air conditioner and full breakfast owned by a friendly local family. That evening we were so tired we missed a big party at the African House Bar and Restaurant commemorating the death of Bob Marley who is revered in Tanzania for his peacemaking role between Tanzania and other African countries (and other) efforts. The next day the other truck riders went on a Spice Tour and continued to the northern beaches to work on their tans and do some fishing while Bob and I stayed in exotic Stone Town to cool our heels and rest after enduring the noise and charcoal cooking smoke of Dar.
The tropical island of Zanzibar has a more cosmopolitan and warm and open ambiance than other African towns we have been in-more like the islands off Thailand. The official languages are Swahili and English and the population including the Island of Pemba is just under 100,000. Zanzibar is an island
partner in the United Republic of Tanzania. It is made up of Pemba and the Unguja Islands, also known as the Spice Islands, along with about 50 small islands. The religions are Muslim, Hindu, Christian and Traditional Beliefs. Per Capita yearly income is U.S. $190.
Stone Town retains the atmospheric trappings of urban life in Muslim cities but hews to a much looser interpretation of Islam than many places in the Middle East. So while calls to prayer regularly resound through the streets, bars and restaurants serve alcohol with little restraint. Leaving the hotel we instantly found ourselves swept into the decaying opulence of the city. From the narrow passageways we ducked into the inner courtyards of old manors, pastel paint peeling from the walls.
What lends Stone Town its charm are the remnants of empire, all piled atop one another and inflected by the native Swahili culture. The Persians were among the first foreigners to settle here alongside the indigenous people. The island was colonized by the Portuguese starting in 1503, and brought under the control of Oman in 1698. The sultan of Oman eventually moved the seat of his kingdom to Zanzibar, which resulted in an artistic renaissance in Stone Town, with Arabic influence becoming much more overt in the designs of manors and palaces. In the late 19th century, the British Empire annexed the island, only to have it gain independence decades later, before coming under the rule of the government of mainland Tanzania.
The shadow of the Arabian peninsula, just across the Indian Ocean, falls everywhere in Stone Town. We made our way through the twisting streets, marveling at the thick wooden double doors with their arabesque carved lintels and large brass studs. One narrow alleyway led to another, with branches veering off in all directions and plenty of dead ends. There were groups of men in white robes and skullcaps playing pool in small cafes, and cramped shops selling everything from spices to television sets to long rolls of multihued cloth. It had the same feel as Cairo – the urban design of Zanzibar is the same as the one imprinted all over the Islamic world.
Transportation
Outlying areas can be reached by taking little numbered pick-ups called dalla-dallas across from the Darajani Market that charge about 30 cents and like the matatus (multicolored buses) are filled literally to the brim with people as they careen crazily along narrow one lane roads. I wondered if this is where the Merry
Pranksters got the idea for Ken Kesey�s bus in the �60�s.
Virtually no cars on the road; only trucks and buses and a few vans. The people seem like they don’t see many overlanders; some-mostly women and little children wave-sometimes with thumbs up; occasionally an adolescent will give us the finger; many children hold out their hands and come running-obviously having gotten handouts in the past.
No one wants their picture taken. Most will turn their backs or rub the thumb and forefinger together indicating they want money if they see you with a camera. Most feel that it is a violation to have their picture taken and they will all want to be paid at least a couple dollars. One roadside young man threatened to throw a bag or oranges at Bob when he was trying to take a picture while we were riding along in the truck.
The kids are playing a Bobby Marley tape “Get up, stand up, for your rights…” Marley’s anniversary of his death was this week and there was a huge party at the Africa House in Zanzibar-lots of Rastifarians (or wannabes) here.
Bring T Shirts or any other cool clothes that young people in the States wear for trading with the local guys-you could come away with virtually any arts and crafts pieces you ever wanted. There is no money to buy anything Francis says. Even the locals go to a seller and offer 50 cents for a dollar item, he says. So if they can swap what they have with you that is how they get their clothes. Saw a Cliff Richards T-shirt while we were stopped at a roadside gas station. Cliff Richards! Cliff Richards! I yelled at the guy…I know him…in Tempe Arizona! He just laughed.
Sign seen over a business by the side of the road: Camp David Resort
Fields along here are not the small one acre parcels tilled by each family. These are full of rice and sisal-part of a large corporation. Huge fields of corn are all hand tilled.
I love to see the children so proud of themselves in their school uniforms running along side the road after school.
Truck Camp in Dar
As we drove into Dar at sundown, we almost choked on diesel fumes and charcoal smoke rising up from all the dinner fires. Worse than Bangkok where people at least wear surgical face masks. The truck drove to the car ferry for the ride across the bay to the uphemistically named truck camp-Mikadi Beach Resort it is called-for our first view of the Indian Ocean. Then, hot and sweaty, we dove for the wonderful outdoor showers enclosed in tile and green plants-the cold water feeling glorious. Our meal is cooked tonight by the Mikadi Camp Restaurant-wonderful white fish roasted in foil, salads and the ubiquitous french fries. We had to pay the bartender $1 to plug in our electronics.
The next day, while waiting fot the ferry back across the bay to Dar I could look down at the little Abdallah shop selling an odd collection of hair products, Fanta, water, rope, twine, a bicycle tire, empty plastic jugs and eggs. A few feet away a young kid was selling live chickens from a basket tied to the back of his bicycle. Another fellow is pushing along a bike with huge yellow water jugs tied to the top and sides; Another bike has a huge basket of coconuts. A black Malcolm X T shirt worn by a young guy in dreads.
I see what I think is resentment in the eyes of many who look up at us-the healthy, well-fed, big, well-dressed, well-endowed, well-educated…rich..,.on the ferry three Muslim men are looking at the truck-an older one talking animatedly to a younger one….the more he talks the more distressed his friend looks..wish I could be a little bird…It occurs to me that they have to bad-talk the west so they won’t lost their young ones to it…Bob would say I am just making an assumption based on paranoia…but the Muslim is not an authority on the West, I think to myself. I want to speak for myself. I don’t want him interpreting my life to anyone and yet we in the West do that all the time to “the Others.”
I’ll be darned if I can remember anything, except breakfast, that George has cooked for us so far on this overland trip!
Laughingnomad 