Djembo, Tanzania!

The inefficiency of India was evaded thanks to the corruption of Tanzania. Two weeks prior to my departure, I had been preoccupied about the small leaflet signed by the doctor of the casualty department certifying that I had been yellow fever vaccinated. At the airport in Dar-Es-Salaam, on asking me where my yellow book was, I was led to an officer who handed me a brand new yellow book, amidst my cries that I did not want to get shot twice, to whom I literally paid fifty USD under the table. They told me “they were doing me a favor.” My book is nicely packed inside my bag now, where it states that I have been vaccinated for the yellow fever on 20th September, 2009, six days subsequent to my arrival in Tanzania.

First things first, I had to clarify with the first person I met, my taxi driver who drove me to town, an issue which prioritized my mind. “I’m sorry. I have a silly question and I hope you can help me. Does Hakuna Matata mean something in Swahili?”

Yes, it does mean ‘no problem’.

Dusty roads, men and their six packs and well defined biceps, women with their beautiful lips and eyes and faces in general moving in grace with their splendid behinds dancing to imaginary beats, all in overly colorful clothes, gruff voices, Swahili, touts, the over apparent poverty that reigns, the disparity in which you see that most shops and restaurants are owned by either Indians, Pakistanis or people from Middle Eastern origins or Foreigners, whereas most Africans are either employees or on the streets, fewer than what should be seem to be owning a commercial property, the “Mambo!” and its response “Poa!”, the thumbs up, the smiles, the “Do you want to book Safari?” as soon as you reach….

….I am in Africa!

Diagonally opposite to where I was born, it took me a long time coming back…

Dar Es Salaam can at best be described as a rudimentary city where you can get what you need…. but, at a price! I had not foreseen Tanzania to be so expensive, and I’ll probably have to re-plan my budget. It took me two days to get away from Dar Es Salaam, away to the much more serene, much more beautiful Zanzibar. With its small alleyways, the beautiful colored Indian Ocean, its cafés, shops, the Firodhani Park which has quickly become my favorite sunset spot, and its people, Zanzibar and Stone Town have not failed to capture my wonder.

Day before yesterday in Firodhani Park, Ahmed came and sat next to me. He started talking to me, saying he wanted to practice his English since he is training to become a guide. He obviously did not lose an opportunity to make a commission out of me as he directed me to a hotel in Matemwe (I will be leaving for Matemwe tomorrow), but I did not mind because he took me to the local places to catch the Barcelona vs. Inter Milan match. The first place he took me was in Stone Town, in the middle of the street where locals gather to watch football matches on a TV usually hanging in the wall, but unfortunately, the TV on that day was missing. We finally ended up watching the match in a local bar, with men in their white kaftans or jump suits; these men seemed to shout at each other but then momentarily diffused the tension by breaking into loud burst of laughter, they chewed on tobacco twigs, dwelled in cigarette smoke and strong spicy coffee. The TV was a small 14 inch screen hanging on top in a wall with French commentary that nobody understood. The big chief of the clan of course made a late entry, but to no one’s protest, took a chair and seated himself right in front of the screen. Later, he turned back, looked at me with stern eyes and in perfect English asked me “Do you want coffee?”… when I replied in the affirmative, he took out a thermos, a very teeny tiny white cup, filled it with coffee and handed it to me… it is the strongest and spiciest coffee I had ever tasted. It was wonderful! The match of course, was a drag…

Tomorrow I will hopefully experience the dalla-dalla to go to Matemwe…