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| Tanzania |
Thursday, June 28, 2007
A Couple of Pictures
I actually haven't been great about taking pictures here, mainly because I feel weird taking pictures of random people here. But here are a few that I've taken - some from Dar, some of the training, and a few from time in the field. Hope you enjoy, and I'll try to post more soon!
Mutant Eggs
It’s funny the little things you obsess about when you’re living in a foreign country. For us it’s the eggs. We eat them a lot here – standard breakfast at any hotel is an omlette (nice and greasy, kind of like a fried scrambled egg) with toast, and of course chips mai. We thought it was a little odd when we first got here that they only made egg white omlettes. “How very health-conscious of them” we thought, although we really thought there might be some cultural taboo against eating the yolk here or some such thing.
Then one day we got a hard boiled egg. Cut it open, and, low and behold, the yolk was white! Now this we found fascinating. First thought – albino chickens? No, we’ve seen hundreds of chickens (they are only outnumbered by goats walking around in the street), and they look normal enough, maybe just a little smaller and not as robust as their California cousins (I guess having chickens at home really does pay off). So why on earth are the yolks white? Everyday, when I have my fried egg, I think about it and shake my head. It doesn’t make any sense.
Thankfully, the answer has come. My friend Sabrina has informed me that the chickens are not getting enough keratin in their food to make the yolks yellow. So they aren’t some mutant strain of chicken, they’re just malnourished! Which I can see, given the variety of food here – I’m feeling a little white myself (pun intended).
Then one day we got a hard boiled egg. Cut it open, and, low and behold, the yolk was white! Now this we found fascinating. First thought – albino chickens? No, we’ve seen hundreds of chickens (they are only outnumbered by goats walking around in the street), and they look normal enough, maybe just a little smaller and not as robust as their California cousins (I guess having chickens at home really does pay off). So why on earth are the yolks white? Everyday, when I have my fried egg, I think about it and shake my head. It doesn’t make any sense.
Thankfully, the answer has come. My friend Sabrina has informed me that the chickens are not getting enough keratin in their food to make the yolks yellow. So they aren’t some mutant strain of chicken, they’re just malnourished! Which I can see, given the variety of food here – I’m feeling a little white myself (pun intended).
Africa's Calistoga
I was prepared when I left the US to be a bit bored in Africa; I figured it would be kind of like Barbados – not really much to do for fun. I was right, but didn’t realize the extent of how little there is to do here!
Kigoma is a small town, and is now reminding me more and more of Calistoga. Except, believe it or not, I think Calistoga has more to do for the visitor than Kigoma. At least there’s wine-tasting and spas. Kigoma’s nicest building is the train station built by the Germans in the late 1800s. A pretty building, but empty since the rail line doesn’t reach Kigoma anymore. Town is a single street with “shops”, really just little storefronts where the owner sits behind the counter. We’ve found our favorite with the best cookie selection – a meal here really isn’t finished until you’ve had the full range of carbohydrates, it isn’t very satisfying to only have one or two kinds of carbs, really. The fun thing about the shops is that they are very specialized – there are several stands that sell sundry foods, but the others are very specific. Such as the pirated DVD store, the speaker store (sells nothing but stereo speakers, but sadly doesn’t have computer speakers), the ribbon store, the plumbing store, the electrical store, and the liquor store (selling wine from New Zealand for $8, but I have a feeling it’s been in the hot sun for a few years).
There are several small eateries along the one road in town (no stoplight – Calistoga has a one up on that) that serve the same thing: chips mai (omlette made with fries) and a variety of fried doughs. There is one small restaurant that serves rice and beans. And lastly, there’s Sun City, a restaurant we frequent because we get our food in 15 minutes (more on that later) and there are at least three things on the menu we can order – the same fish with three different sauces, served with three cups of rice. We usually either eat here or at Gibbs resort, which is where we stayed the first four days we were in Kigoma. So, needless to say, the food lacks variety. We tend to get excited about food that’s not necessarily good, but at least different (like the beans with rice – the rice had seasonings added to it, so at least it wasn’t white). We just got through trying to decide where to go for dinner, and none of the three options are sounding too appealing. It’s going to be a long month!
So other than “shopping” and eating, what else is there to do? I go for runs around town which are usually pretty entertaining. As I run along, I get yells of “mzungu!” and “jambo” as I go past, and plenty of giggles and smiles. Sometimes I run into more exciting road companions. Such as the time I looked up (I have to run with my head down so I don’t break an ankle in one of the gazillion potholes) and saw a heard of bull running towards me. Or my last run, where I ran to a small village nearby Kigoma that has a cute little port (lots of little wooden sail boats) and a small market. By the end of the run, I had the entire village of children running after me – at least thirty kids – all yelling and hollering as we ran. That run I did with Terry, the visiting boyfriend of one of the girls from the University of Michigan. The two MPH students are doing a study on women’s utilization of health facility in the rural villages outside of Kasulu, and spend their weekends here in Kigoma. They’re nice girls and we “hang out” (code for talk about how there’s nothing to do) sometimes on the weekend. Terry may be my new running partner, we had a fun time exploring and had a good run.
Unfortunately, western Tanzania is pretty out there (the bush, as Dr. Mbaruku calls it). The road connecting it to other areas aren’t really open all the time, and it’s not like there would be anything there that there isn’t here in Kigoma, since Kigoma is the “big city” on this half of the country. So no weekend trips for us, sadly. Stuck here in good ole Kigoma, watching the fish dry. It’s called dagaa, a local specialty. They’re tiny little fish about an inch long that fishermen lay out to dry in the sand (very hygienic) to dry (fun to watch, like paint) and salt, and are served as a snack or in a sauce with rice or ugali.
And well, that’s about it. There are still the discos to check out, which I think we might do next weekend. We met DJ Super at Sun City, so we’ll see how he spins.
Kigoma is a small town, and is now reminding me more and more of Calistoga. Except, believe it or not, I think Calistoga has more to do for the visitor than Kigoma. At least there’s wine-tasting and spas. Kigoma’s nicest building is the train station built by the Germans in the late 1800s. A pretty building, but empty since the rail line doesn’t reach Kigoma anymore. Town is a single street with “shops”, really just little storefronts where the owner sits behind the counter. We’ve found our favorite with the best cookie selection – a meal here really isn’t finished until you’ve had the full range of carbohydrates, it isn’t very satisfying to only have one or two kinds of carbs, really. The fun thing about the shops is that they are very specialized – there are several stands that sell sundry foods, but the others are very specific. Such as the pirated DVD store, the speaker store (sells nothing but stereo speakers, but sadly doesn’t have computer speakers), the ribbon store, the plumbing store, the electrical store, and the liquor store (selling wine from New Zealand for $8, but I have a feeling it’s been in the hot sun for a few years).
There are several small eateries along the one road in town (no stoplight – Calistoga has a one up on that) that serve the same thing: chips mai (omlette made with fries) and a variety of fried doughs. There is one small restaurant that serves rice and beans. And lastly, there’s Sun City, a restaurant we frequent because we get our food in 15 minutes (more on that later) and there are at least three things on the menu we can order – the same fish with three different sauces, served with three cups of rice. We usually either eat here or at Gibbs resort, which is where we stayed the first four days we were in Kigoma. So, needless to say, the food lacks variety. We tend to get excited about food that’s not necessarily good, but at least different (like the beans with rice – the rice had seasonings added to it, so at least it wasn’t white). We just got through trying to decide where to go for dinner, and none of the three options are sounding too appealing. It’s going to be a long month!
So other than “shopping” and eating, what else is there to do? I go for runs around town which are usually pretty entertaining. As I run along, I get yells of “mzungu!” and “jambo” as I go past, and plenty of giggles and smiles. Sometimes I run into more exciting road companions. Such as the time I looked up (I have to run with my head down so I don’t break an ankle in one of the gazillion potholes) and saw a heard of bull running towards me. Or my last run, where I ran to a small village nearby Kigoma that has a cute little port (lots of little wooden sail boats) and a small market. By the end of the run, I had the entire village of children running after me – at least thirty kids – all yelling and hollering as we ran. That run I did with Terry, the visiting boyfriend of one of the girls from the University of Michigan. The two MPH students are doing a study on women’s utilization of health facility in the rural villages outside of Kasulu, and spend their weekends here in Kigoma. They’re nice girls and we “hang out” (code for talk about how there’s nothing to do) sometimes on the weekend. Terry may be my new running partner, we had a fun time exploring and had a good run.
Unfortunately, western Tanzania is pretty out there (the bush, as Dr. Mbaruku calls it). The road connecting it to other areas aren’t really open all the time, and it’s not like there would be anything there that there isn’t here in Kigoma, since Kigoma is the “big city” on this half of the country. So no weekend trips for us, sadly. Stuck here in good ole Kigoma, watching the fish dry. It’s called dagaa, a local specialty. They’re tiny little fish about an inch long that fishermen lay out to dry in the sand (very hygienic) to dry (fun to watch, like paint) and salt, and are served as a snack or in a sauce with rice or ugali.
And well, that’s about it. There are still the discos to check out, which I think we might do next weekend. We met DJ Super at Sun City, so we’ll see how he spins.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Mzungu!
Going into the villages is quite an experience. It’s the Africa you imagine – kids everywhere, mud brick houses with thatched straw roofs. It’s amazing that this is still considered part of urban Kigoma; I’m interested to see what Kigoma Rural (where the control group is located) looks like.
To reach these areas, we have to travel along crazy dirt roads (our dala dala got stuck today, we all had to get out and push it!). They are groups of houses with small dirt paths tread in the grass. The TBA comes to welcome us – a series of welcome, thank you, thank you, I give you respectful greetings, thanks for your respectful greetings, how are you, I’m fine, how is your morning, good, welcome, thank you, thank you, thank you. This series of exchanges happens with almost everyone you see, and is made even longer by the fact that the response to thank you is also thank you, so you end up in a cycle of asante’s that can last a while. The TBA then leads us through the village to the woman’s house. Usually I am lost in my surroundings, watching where I walk and taking in the environment. So it usually takes me a few minutes to realize that I’m being followed. It starts off with one or two, and then usually builds up to around thirty kids, who follow me through the village. Children that see me start yelling mzungu!, which in Swahili means European but they use it for any white person. The mzungu! Mzungu! Yells follow me wherever I go, and usually when the interview starts the TBA has to grab a stick and start swinging it at the kids to shoo them away. That works initially, but during the interview I notice little heads peering around the yard fence (or should I say mud wall) or little eyes peering through the windows of the house. I feel bad for disrupting the interview, but there’s not much I can do. Whenever I stop walking through the village, the kids crowd around me but usually stay a few feet away.
The really brave ones will come and touch my skin when I’m not looking. The interviewers say they are fascinated by me because they have never seen a mzungu walking around their village before. They have seen them driving around in cars, but never walking from house to house. The TBAs get very concerned that I will overexert myself (as do the interviewers), because they believe mzungu only travel by car or plane; they do not walk. Yesterday James became very concerned because I had a “rash” from too much sun exposure, and told me I needed to bring an umbrella next time. I had to explain that the rash are freckles, and they are there all the time.
It’s an amazing experience being out in these areas, and very humbling to see how they live. It’s a reminder of how poor this country is. I notice it in the markets and restaurants – there’s not really any food to buy, which feels annoying to us but is due to the lack of wealth in the area – but it really hits home when you walk inside someone’s home here. In spite of it, I have to say that Tanzanians are the most welcoming people I have ever met. The women greet us with karibu (you are welcome here), and we have to go through a long cycle of karibu, asante, karibu, asante, karibu, asante everytime we enter or leave. Many women have asked the interviewers to tell me how thankful they are that I am here and doing this work, which makes me feel really good about what I am doing. They also say either they want me to marry their son, or they wish they had a son I could marry, so that I would never leave. Very sweet.
To reach these areas, we have to travel along crazy dirt roads (our dala dala got stuck today, we all had to get out and push it!). They are groups of houses with small dirt paths tread in the grass. The TBA comes to welcome us – a series of welcome, thank you, thank you, I give you respectful greetings, thanks for your respectful greetings, how are you, I’m fine, how is your morning, good, welcome, thank you, thank you, thank you. This series of exchanges happens with almost everyone you see, and is made even longer by the fact that the response to thank you is also thank you, so you end up in a cycle of asante’s that can last a while. The TBA then leads us through the village to the woman’s house. Usually I am lost in my surroundings, watching where I walk and taking in the environment. So it usually takes me a few minutes to realize that I’m being followed. It starts off with one or two, and then usually builds up to around thirty kids, who follow me through the village. Children that see me start yelling mzungu!, which in Swahili means European but they use it for any white person. The mzungu! Mzungu! Yells follow me wherever I go, and usually when the interview starts the TBA has to grab a stick and start swinging it at the kids to shoo them away. That works initially, but during the interview I notice little heads peering around the yard fence (or should I say mud wall) or little eyes peering through the windows of the house. I feel bad for disrupting the interview, but there’s not much I can do. Whenever I stop walking through the village, the kids crowd around me but usually stay a few feet away.
The really brave ones will come and touch my skin when I’m not looking. The interviewers say they are fascinated by me because they have never seen a mzungu walking around their village before. They have seen them driving around in cars, but never walking from house to house. The TBAs get very concerned that I will overexert myself (as do the interviewers), because they believe mzungu only travel by car or plane; they do not walk. Yesterday James became very concerned because I had a “rash” from too much sun exposure, and told me I needed to bring an umbrella next time. I had to explain that the rash are freckles, and they are there all the time.
It’s an amazing experience being out in these areas, and very humbling to see how they live. It’s a reminder of how poor this country is. I notice it in the markets and restaurants – there’s not really any food to buy, which feels annoying to us but is due to the lack of wealth in the area – but it really hits home when you walk inside someone’s home here. In spite of it, I have to say that Tanzanians are the most welcoming people I have ever met. The women greet us with karibu (you are welcome here), and we have to go through a long cycle of karibu, asante, karibu, asante, karibu, asante everytime we enter or leave. Many women have asked the interviewers to tell me how thankful they are that I am here and doing this work, which makes me feel really good about what I am doing. They also say either they want me to marry their son, or they wish they had a son I could marry, so that I would never leave. Very sweet.
What We Do
It’s been a busy week since I last wrote. I figured you all might want to know what it is I actually am doing here in Kigoma. In 2003/2004 my professor conducted a study here, teaching traditional birth attendants (TBAs) how to recognize postpartum hemorrhage and administer misoprostol, a drug that makes the uterus contract and so stops the bleeding. It was a successful intervention, and the TBAs have continued to use miso since then by themselves. Our project is to interview women who have given birth since the intervention ended (August 2004) to assess the acceptability, feasibility, and reach of TBA distribution of miso.
Since arriving in Kigoma, we have finalized the translation of the questionnaire into Swahili and trained a group of ten interviewers. Each day, an interviewer is paired with a TBA in a neighborhood of Kigoma (it’s called Kigoma urban, although I think their conception of “urban” is a little different than ours – these are more like villages with houses made out of mud and roofs made out of straw, no electricity or running water). The TBA introduces the interviewer to women she has helped deliver, and the interviewer conducts the structured questionnaire. This week, Kristina and I have been rotating following the interviewers to see how they are doing with the questionnaire. Even though we don’t speak Swahili, it’s amazing what we can pick up and have found points of confusion where the interviewers were not asking the questions correctly (the problem with working in second languages!!). At this point, we are pretty confident that they have it down.
So in the mornings we meet at 8am at the hospital and disperse, and then we return around four and people gives their completed questionnaires. We sit at Mama’s Best restaurant and review the questionnaires for mistakes, and clarify questions for the interviewers. Then it’s back on a dala dala (minibus) to our hotel, where we usually go for a run, eat dinner, and then enter the day’s data (35 – 50 interviews). We’re usually done around midnight, and then it’s up to do it all again the next day. Now that we’ve reviewed the interviewers, we can start going once or twice a week and have our days free, which makes us really excited – these long days are starting to wear us down! It’s tough work but we’re really enjoying it.
Since arriving in Kigoma, we have finalized the translation of the questionnaire into Swahili and trained a group of ten interviewers. Each day, an interviewer is paired with a TBA in a neighborhood of Kigoma (it’s called Kigoma urban, although I think their conception of “urban” is a little different than ours – these are more like villages with houses made out of mud and roofs made out of straw, no electricity or running water). The TBA introduces the interviewer to women she has helped deliver, and the interviewer conducts the structured questionnaire. This week, Kristina and I have been rotating following the interviewers to see how they are doing with the questionnaire. Even though we don’t speak Swahili, it’s amazing what we can pick up and have found points of confusion where the interviewers were not asking the questions correctly (the problem with working in second languages!!). At this point, we are pretty confident that they have it down.
So in the mornings we meet at 8am at the hospital and disperse, and then we return around four and people gives their completed questionnaires. We sit at Mama’s Best restaurant and review the questionnaires for mistakes, and clarify questions for the interviewers. Then it’s back on a dala dala (minibus) to our hotel, where we usually go for a run, eat dinner, and then enter the day’s data (35 – 50 interviews). We’re usually done around midnight, and then it’s up to do it all again the next day. Now that we’ve reviewed the interviewers, we can start going once or twice a week and have our days free, which makes us really excited – these long days are starting to wear us down! It’s tough work but we’re really enjoying it.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
6/12: Work, Work, Work
As the name of this post suggests, we did a lot of work today. We spent the morning reviewing the Swahili translation of the questionnaire and fixing mistakes. We then went into town with Mr. Ganai and reviewed our changes with him and waited for them to make 15 copies of our human subjects training packet (only 5 pages), which took almost 2 hours. We had a two hour break, and then Mr. Ganai and Mr. Mwamba came over to our hotel and we worked until 8:30 finalizing the questionnaire (this draft anyways!) and going over preparations for tomorrow.
During our break, I went for a quick run around our neighborhood. A little treacherous, given how uneven the dirt road is, but it felt good to be moving. People stopped to stare at me like I was crazy, and little kids just started laughing when they saw me and yelled “hi! Hi!” after me. It added a little fun to my run, and I’m sure it brightened their day too to see a crazy white girl running – why would you want to do that?
During our break, I went for a quick run around our neighborhood. A little treacherous, given how uneven the dirt road is, but it felt good to be moving. People stopped to stare at me like I was crazy, and little kids just started laughing when they saw me and yelled “hi! Hi!” after me. It added a little fun to my run, and I’m sure it brightened their day too to see a crazy white girl running – why would you want to do that?
6/11: Arrival in Kigoma and Dinner with Jane
On Monday morning, we finally left for Kigoma. We were so excited to finally be on our way, Dar was beginning to feel a little like purgatory. We had to leave our hotel at 7am, which made us a little tired and wasn’t helped by the fact that my first (and I’m sure not last) bout of traveler’s diarrhea kept me up all night. Our flight was on one of those cute little planes I remember from the Caribbean, seating about 25 people and having propellers. Our landing was on a dirt runway, definitely a first for me and a little rough I must say!
Kigoma is a little more what I expected from Tanzania. The dirt roads, which the words bumpy and potholes cannot begin to describe, are a bit of an adventure in the 1980s Corollas that serve as cabs. It’s definitely a small, rural town: tons of kids running around, mud houses, a small market with a thatched roof, and goats and cows for neighbors at our hotel.
After relaxing at our hotel for a few hours, we had a meeting with Dr. Godfrey and Mr. Ganai about the project. As I anticipated, they already have it in their minds how things are going to go, and we’re just along for the ride. I’m totally fine with that, it just means you have to be on your toes and never really know what you’re supposed to be doing. We’re going to have the team training on Wednesday and Thursday, and begin data collection on Friday.
At the end of the meeting, Dr. Godfrey said that the Jane Goodall Institute (JGI) is nearby, and she’s the one that worked with the chimps, and that she’s only in Kigoma one week out of the year and tonight is her last night. He then said that we were invited to go with him to the farewell dinner at our house. We were given five minutes to get ready (what do you wear to meet Jane Goodall?), and headed out to JGI. There was an intimate dinner party set up outside next to the lake, with about 30 or so people there. Dr. Jane (as they call her) ran up to Dr. Godfrey when he arrived and gave him a big hug. He introduced us, and she sat us down at the table next to hers with an American that is volunteering with her organization Roots ‘n Shoots (a youth-led education program). I ate dinner about four feet away from Dr. Jane, totally in awe of what was going on. At the end of the evening, she gave a short speech and finished it with an impression of a chimp calling to another. The head of JGI in Kigoma escorted us out, saying that we were welcome anytime to use their internet or offices (yay wireless!), and we rode back to our hotel in a USAID Landrover. Very surreal.
Kigoma is a little more what I expected from Tanzania. The dirt roads, which the words bumpy and potholes cannot begin to describe, are a bit of an adventure in the 1980s Corollas that serve as cabs. It’s definitely a small, rural town: tons of kids running around, mud houses, a small market with a thatched roof, and goats and cows for neighbors at our hotel.
After relaxing at our hotel for a few hours, we had a meeting with Dr. Godfrey and Mr. Ganai about the project. As I anticipated, they already have it in their minds how things are going to go, and we’re just along for the ride. I’m totally fine with that, it just means you have to be on your toes and never really know what you’re supposed to be doing. We’re going to have the team training on Wednesday and Thursday, and begin data collection on Friday.
At the end of the meeting, Dr. Godfrey said that the Jane Goodall Institute (JGI) is nearby, and she’s the one that worked with the chimps, and that she’s only in Kigoma one week out of the year and tonight is her last night. He then said that we were invited to go with him to the farewell dinner at our house. We were given five minutes to get ready (what do you wear to meet Jane Goodall?), and headed out to JGI. There was an intimate dinner party set up outside next to the lake, with about 30 or so people there. Dr. Jane (as they call her) ran up to Dr. Godfrey when he arrived and gave him a big hug. He introduced us, and she sat us down at the table next to hers with an American that is volunteering with her organization Roots ‘n Shoots (a youth-led education program). I ate dinner about four feet away from Dr. Jane, totally in awe of what was going on. At the end of the evening, she gave a short speech and finished it with an impression of a chimp calling to another. The head of JGI in Kigoma escorted us out, saying that we were welcome anytime to use their internet or offices (yay wireless!), and we rode back to our hotel in a USAID Landrover. Very surreal.
6/10: Mambo-Poa (Last Day
Our last few days in Dar were spent exploring the last few bits of the city, preparing for our internship, and escaping the heat by watching TV in our room.
We did go explore the “Asian District” (I put Asian in quotes because I didn’t see too much of an Asian influence, nor many Asians). It was much more peaceful than our rough neighborhood, definitely less people around. The one cool thing we visited there were Hindu temples: huge ornate white washed compounds that smelled of incense and had the soft lullaby of bells being struck in the background. It felt like being in another county.
On Thursday afternoon, a shrimpy looking 18 year old knocked on the door. He said “Kristina” and in broken English asked us how we were doing and what we were doing. Having no idea who he was, I was a little vague in answering his questions. After about five minutes of talking, he mentioned Dr. Godfrey and we finally figured out that he was some sort of relative. It turns out he is the brother of Dr. Godfrey’s daughter-in-law in Kigoma. He became our very zealous friend during the next few days, knocking on our door or calling us every few hours either to see what we were doing or to let us know that he was leaving the hotel and coming back later (very informative). He lives in Zanzibar and his name is Abui, and he has 11 siblings (don’t worry, his mother didn’t have all those children, his father has four wives). His brother-from-another-mother, Ifraq, was also in Dar on business (he buys cars in Dubai and Japan and sells them in Tanzania). He, thankfully, is 25 and speaks better English. They took us out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights which was really sweet.
My ATM troubles were not over: the ATM near our hotel stopped working after the first day (first it was broken, then under routine maintenance, and then the power was out the whole last day we were in Dar)
On Friday we went to Q Bar, and the description from my guidebook is pretty accurate: popular with locals, expats, tourists, and well dressed prostitutes. That explained why the crowd was about a third white (when we hadn’t seen any other white people since arriving) and the surprising presence of a bunch of ho’ed out women (most women dress very modestly here, and these ladies were showing off a lot of skin and some interesting outfits). After playing pool for a few hours, they wanted to show us the hot new club, Maisha. It would be a really cool venue – a circular dance floor in the middle with a second floor that wraps around it so you can see everything below (kind of like a mini Medjool’s) – except it was pitch black save a few black lights in the corners and one small spotlight that shone straight down on the center of the dance floor. You could barely see anything. We had fun making Abui dance, and were a little surprised to see that guys dance with each other, and kind of close. It was a fun night and a neat insight into the nightlife in Dar.
We did go explore the “Asian District” (I put Asian in quotes because I didn’t see too much of an Asian influence, nor many Asians). It was much more peaceful than our rough neighborhood, definitely less people around. The one cool thing we visited there were Hindu temples: huge ornate white washed compounds that smelled of incense and had the soft lullaby of bells being struck in the background. It felt like being in another county.
On Thursday afternoon, a shrimpy looking 18 year old knocked on the door. He said “Kristina” and in broken English asked us how we were doing and what we were doing. Having no idea who he was, I was a little vague in answering his questions. After about five minutes of talking, he mentioned Dr. Godfrey and we finally figured out that he was some sort of relative. It turns out he is the brother of Dr. Godfrey’s daughter-in-law in Kigoma. He became our very zealous friend during the next few days, knocking on our door or calling us every few hours either to see what we were doing or to let us know that he was leaving the hotel and coming back later (very informative). He lives in Zanzibar and his name is Abui, and he has 11 siblings (don’t worry, his mother didn’t have all those children, his father has four wives). His brother-from-another-mother, Ifraq, was also in Dar on business (he buys cars in Dubai and Japan and sells them in Tanzania). He, thankfully, is 25 and speaks better English. They took us out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights which was really sweet.
My ATM troubles were not over: the ATM near our hotel stopped working after the first day (first it was broken, then under routine maintenance, and then the power was out the whole last day we were in Dar)
On Friday we went to Q Bar, and the description from my guidebook is pretty accurate: popular with locals, expats, tourists, and well dressed prostitutes. That explained why the crowd was about a third white (when we hadn’t seen any other white people since arriving) and the surprising presence of a bunch of ho’ed out women (most women dress very modestly here, and these ladies were showing off a lot of skin and some interesting outfits). After playing pool for a few hours, they wanted to show us the hot new club, Maisha. It would be a really cool venue – a circular dance floor in the middle with a second floor that wraps around it so you can see everything below (kind of like a mini Medjool’s) – except it was pitch black save a few black lights in the corners and one small spotlight that shone straight down on the center of the dance floor. You could barely see anything. We had fun making Abui dance, and were a little surprised to see that guys dance with each other, and kind of close. It was a fun night and a neat insight into the nightlife in Dar.
6/8: Kariakoo (Dar, Day 2)
The ATM across the street from our hotel takes MasterCard. And it looks like the MasterCard system is up and running again, so now I have tons of cash.
This morning we worked on training materials for our project, and this afternoon we visited the Kariakoo Market. It’s only a few blocks from our hotel, and is the largest and most crowded market I’ve seen in my life. Under plastic awnings surrounding the large concrete building, a maze of vendors laid out their goods. Lots of beautiful produce – peppers, onions, cabbage, eggplants, plantains, and fruit I’ve never seen before – shady electronics, random footwear, toiletries – it was all there. It was amazing to see all these gorgeous vegetables, and then find that they don’t serve them in the restaurants. It’s all meat with either rice, ugali (a stiff porrige made of corn and cassavah flours that you roll into balls and dip in sauce), or chips. I hope I have a kitchen in Kigoma so I can have vegetables at some point during this trip!
We really wish we could get out to Kigoma, because we’re a little bored here in Dar. There’s not that much to do but walk around, and it’s all pretty the same. Add the heat, crowds, and pollution, and we’re done!
I’m really starting to feel like I’m in Africa. I think I was in a haze of jet lag for the first two days, and initially I really did feel like I was in the Caribbean. But for some reason, today it really hit me that I’m here. I can’t really describe it, and I wish I could bottle it up for all of you to experience.
This morning we worked on training materials for our project, and this afternoon we visited the Kariakoo Market. It’s only a few blocks from our hotel, and is the largest and most crowded market I’ve seen in my life. Under plastic awnings surrounding the large concrete building, a maze of vendors laid out their goods. Lots of beautiful produce – peppers, onions, cabbage, eggplants, plantains, and fruit I’ve never seen before – shady electronics, random footwear, toiletries – it was all there. It was amazing to see all these gorgeous vegetables, and then find that they don’t serve them in the restaurants. It’s all meat with either rice, ugali (a stiff porrige made of corn and cassavah flours that you roll into balls and dip in sauce), or chips. I hope I have a kitchen in Kigoma so I can have vegetables at some point during this trip!
We really wish we could get out to Kigoma, because we’re a little bored here in Dar. There’s not that much to do but walk around, and it’s all pretty the same. Add the heat, crowds, and pollution, and we’re done!
I’m really starting to feel like I’m in Africa. I think I was in a haze of jet lag for the first two days, and initially I really did feel like I was in the Caribbean. But for some reason, today it really hit me that I’m here. I can’t really describe it, and I wish I could bottle it up for all of you to experience.
6/7: ATM Hunt (Dar, Day 1)
Today was spent mainly in the pursuit of a bank that accepts a MasterCard ATM. At the airport, the ATMs would only take Visa affiliated cards, and I own a MasterCard. Some exploring early this morning (3 banks) found that they wouldn’t take my card either, but the third bank referred me to another bank that would take it. We went into the city center and found the bank. Sure enough, the ATM took MasterCard, but the system was down. We walked the length of the main drag, about a mile, stopping in every MasterCard affiliated ATM, and none of them would take my card. After lunch, we tried the main branch of a bank, and when I told them that the system was down, they told me to go to another bank that was the system headquarters for MasterCard. Another long walk down a dusty, busy road, I arrived at the bank and – hooray! – it accepted my cards. I thankfully have two ATM cards (although right now I’m really wishing one of them was a Visa), so I was able to withdraw from both accounts. So now I’m going to have to visit that bank everyday until we leave for Kigoma, because I’m worried that the ONE ATM in the town will not accept my card. Fun times. I’m really glad I have money again. Thankfully people are very helpful and most speak English, so this process wasn’t as difficult as it could have been. It was a little scary not being able to get any money, though.
In between banks, we walked to the fish market – a compound filled with people selling fresh fish, some of which are huge! It’s smelly and lively, full of activity and people milling around. We were hoping to find some fresh fish for dinner, but in the marked across the road the promising billows of smoke proved to be fried/grilled fish in a preserved fashion (so whole, in stacks, and a weird grey/brown color from the salt), and we weren’t quite brave enough to try it.
We were lucky and found a wonderful little place for lunch across the street from one of the many banks we went to. It was a pretty little garden, cool and shady under the roof made of leaves. It was quite an operation, serving several different dishes and full of people. With no menu, and no clue what things are called, we looked at other people’s plates and pointed questioningly until they told us the name of it. I had chipsi mayai, an omelet with chips (kind of like a Spanish tortilla with French fries instead of potatoes) and Kristina we think had biriani, rice seasoned with spices until its brown with meat and some beans. It was tasty and cheap (less than $2 for both of us), and fun to people watch.
We have three more days in Dar until we can get to Kigoma. We saw about 75% of the town today, so the next few days I suppose will explore the remaining 25%, work on some training materials for our project (which from the sounds of it will begin on Tuesday or Wednesday), and maybe go to a beach a few kilometers from here.
So far I’m loving being here. It actually doesn’t seem that foreign or strange to me. It may be partly due to the fog of jet lag I’m in, but also I’m reminded a lot of Barbados and other places I’ve traveled, which makes me feel kind of at home. Dar is very busy and full of people, and it’s hot and humid so I mainly feel gross and dirty most of the time (although the air conditioned banks provided a nice respite). It’s neat seeing the women carrying large bundles on top of their heads walking down the street, and babies strapped to their mothers’ backs with kangas. There’s people and cars everywhere. I think once I get to Kigoma things will feel very different, since this is Tanzania’s largest city and Kigoma is a small town.
In between banks, we walked to the fish market – a compound filled with people selling fresh fish, some of which are huge! It’s smelly and lively, full of activity and people milling around. We were hoping to find some fresh fish for dinner, but in the marked across the road the promising billows of smoke proved to be fried/grilled fish in a preserved fashion (so whole, in stacks, and a weird grey/brown color from the salt), and we weren’t quite brave enough to try it.
We were lucky and found a wonderful little place for lunch across the street from one of the many banks we went to. It was a pretty little garden, cool and shady under the roof made of leaves. It was quite an operation, serving several different dishes and full of people. With no menu, and no clue what things are called, we looked at other people’s plates and pointed questioningly until they told us the name of it. I had chipsi mayai, an omelet with chips (kind of like a Spanish tortilla with French fries instead of potatoes) and Kristina we think had biriani, rice seasoned with spices until its brown with meat and some beans. It was tasty and cheap (less than $2 for both of us), and fun to people watch.
We have three more days in Dar until we can get to Kigoma. We saw about 75% of the town today, so the next few days I suppose will explore the remaining 25%, work on some training materials for our project (which from the sounds of it will begin on Tuesday or Wednesday), and maybe go to a beach a few kilometers from here.
So far I’m loving being here. It actually doesn’t seem that foreign or strange to me. It may be partly due to the fog of jet lag I’m in, but also I’m reminded a lot of Barbados and other places I’ve traveled, which makes me feel kind of at home. Dar is very busy and full of people, and it’s hot and humid so I mainly feel gross and dirty most of the time (although the air conditioned banks provided a nice respite). It’s neat seeing the women carrying large bundles on top of their heads walking down the street, and babies strapped to their mothers’ backs with kangas. There’s people and cars everywhere. I think once I get to Kigoma things will feel very different, since this is Tanzania’s largest city and Kigoma is a small town.
6/6: I've Arrived!
After almost two days of traveling, I’ve arrived in Tanzania. It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The plane rides passed quickly enough (10 hours, 7 hours, and 5 hours), and I even managed to sleep on them. The delays were a little painful (7 hours in London and 4 in Dubai), but the Dubai airport is pretty cool. It looks like a fancy mall. We were excited initially, but then realized it contained the same duty free shopping that’s in London so we had nothing to do. Although we could have gone to the spa there I suppose.
Arriving in Dar es Salaam, the customs queue was a little crazy – a huge mess of people with vague formations of lines. We bought our plane ticket to Kigoma, which unfortunately will not be until Monday.
We checked into our hotel and after a blissful shower began exploring our neighborhood. It’s all dirt roads and tons of little shops and restaurants in little shacks. I noticed there were a lot of men hanging around – drinking soda, playing games – but not many women. I wonder where they could be? (Rhetorical question) There were lots of children in the street, and they all smiled at us. We had dinner at a bustling restaurant near our hotel. It had tables inside and on the street, and we had a yummy dinner of bbq chicken (Kristina) and fish (me) with chips. The fish took a good 35 minutes to arrive, so I’m guessing he had to run to a friend’s place to get it. The food came on large tin plates (about 2ft by 1ft) divided into sections – 2 large ones in the middle and 4 around the edges (Amy you’d be so happy – nothing touches!). The chicken/fish and chips were in the two main compartments, and then around the edges were two different sauces (one too spicy and the other that was delicious and tasted like a combination of sweet and sour sauce, hot sauce, and ketchup) and salt. The fish came whole (as in they grabbed a fish and put it on the grill with head, bones, tail everything still attached), which normally bothers me but since it was dark I was ok. Everything was eaten with the hands, so it was my first experience de-boning and eating a fish by hand. It was a little messy, but the waiter brings warm water before and after the meal to wash your hands. By the time the fished cooled a little bit, I was loving it. We were so pooped after we got back from dinner, we passed out at 8:30.
Arriving in Dar es Salaam, the customs queue was a little crazy – a huge mess of people with vague formations of lines. We bought our plane ticket to Kigoma, which unfortunately will not be until Monday.
We checked into our hotel and after a blissful shower began exploring our neighborhood. It’s all dirt roads and tons of little shops and restaurants in little shacks. I noticed there were a lot of men hanging around – drinking soda, playing games – but not many women. I wonder where they could be? (Rhetorical question) There were lots of children in the street, and they all smiled at us. We had dinner at a bustling restaurant near our hotel. It had tables inside and on the street, and we had a yummy dinner of bbq chicken (Kristina) and fish (me) with chips. The fish took a good 35 minutes to arrive, so I’m guessing he had to run to a friend’s place to get it. The food came on large tin plates (about 2ft by 1ft) divided into sections – 2 large ones in the middle and 4 around the edges (Amy you’d be so happy – nothing touches!). The chicken/fish and chips were in the two main compartments, and then around the edges were two different sauces (one too spicy and the other that was delicious and tasted like a combination of sweet and sour sauce, hot sauce, and ketchup) and salt. The fish came whole (as in they grabbed a fish and put it on the grill with head, bones, tail everything still attached), which normally bothers me but since it was dark I was ok. Everything was eaten with the hands, so it was my first experience de-boning and eating a fish by hand. It was a little messy, but the waiter brings warm water before and after the meal to wash your hands. By the time the fished cooled a little bit, I was loving it. We were so pooped after we got back from dinner, we passed out at 8:30.
Friday, June 8, 2007
I'm here!
After almost two full days of traveling, we arrived in Dar es Salaam. I have a few blog entries written out on my laptop, but I think they may have to wait until Kigoma to be posted. We only just found an internet cafe, and it's painfully slow. We're stuck in Dar until Monday, which was the first flight we could get seats on to Kigoma. We've already been in contact with Dr. Godfrey Mburuku, who we will be working with on the project, and it looks like we'll be starting on Tuesday or Wednesday. He sounds very eager to start the project, which is good because we are anxious to get things started.
I'm really happy to be here, but very ready to leave for Kigoma. At first, the country really reminded me of being in Barbados, but just with a slightly different feel to it. It was almost comfortably familiar. But now that I've been here a couple of days and the jet lag has wore off, I really feel like I'm in Africa - it's crazy! Dar is full of energy - it's full of people and cars all day long, and the heat and humidity add to the wildness of it. It's so full of energy it seems to suck the energy out of me! We're looking forward to the cooler, and hopefully more tranquil Kigoma.
I'm really happy to be here, but very ready to leave for Kigoma. At first, the country really reminded me of being in Barbados, but just with a slightly different feel to it. It was almost comfortably familiar. But now that I've been here a couple of days and the jet lag has wore off, I really feel like I'm in Africa - it's crazy! Dar is full of energy - it's full of people and cars all day long, and the heat and humidity add to the wildness of it. It's so full of energy it seems to suck the energy out of me! We're looking forward to the cooler, and hopefully more tranquil Kigoma.
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