The whole power situation in Dar is getting on my nerves, as our access to electricity is never predictable. On Saturday, we had planned for a lovely TV night of watching episodes of 24 and curling up with pizza (yes, there is a lot of Italian food here in Dar, apparently, the Italian tourists are many). We sat in frustration and in the dark willing the damned lights to turn on until, defeated by the hunger, we made grilled cheese sandwiches on our little kerosene stove. Finally, the power came on at around 10:30 at night. Good grief, I didn't think it would be so boring without power, but what is there to do but read under the candlelight? And when you start running out of candles (and you do, pretty quickly), all you want to do is sleep. Our plans are always thwarted by some unpredictable thing - no power, no water, high traffic whatever. No wonder people here take it so easy, I am already irritated by this, and I'm the most laid back person in my family.
So Aaki, Rebecca and I decided Sunday would be beach day, because well, the beach doesn't "turn off". Poor Kelly, who was bent on not getting malaria, and was the most diligent in terms of wearing long sleeves and pants, nevertheless got sick and had to stay home. We took a short ride to White Sands resort, where we chartered a speedboat to Mbudya Island. What a beautiful place, the speed boat ride was definitely the most fun, bumping up and down along the waves. When we arrived, we set up camp underneath a rented banda and ordered our lunch, which was a simple but OH so delicious meal of fries and fresh grilled whole fish. It can with a bit of sea salt and no cutlery. Such yummy fresh food, I was so happy. The weather was a bit rainy, and there were more clouds than we'd like, but it was a spectacular day nontheless to relax on a hammock. The best part was getting soaked riding back on the speedboat, as the waves get really choppy near the evening. We even saw a whale in the distance!
*Sigh*. I have a fundraising workshop to go to all next week, which also falls RIGHT on the only four day weekend of the year. So all my friends are going to Zanzibar, while I get to stay at home and then attend this workshop all week. Boo hiss. I hope I get to go to Zanzibar soon, this will be ridiculous if I can't.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Kipepeo Beach...paradise only 2 hours away
Woo hoo! And apparently Zanzibar is only better! We stayed in really simple and clean huts on the beach this past weekend, and just listened to the sound of the Indian Ocean. I ate so much food, as the restaurant, on the left here, is just next to the huts. I ate coconut straight from the shell. The beach is a bit touristy, and we saw tons of foreigners. The camel is there to give us tourists a ride (I didn't ask for the price), and we saw some cattle roaming across the beach, a sort of reminder that the rural life is never far away....
My new house and all that....
Here's Kelly in front of our new home! It is nice, and in a little compound of two other houses like this. As there is no street address, our current directions are to "pass the BP, turn left after the Oxford sign, follow the street to the end, and it is the red gate after the store." Simple, huh? The taxi drivers here have amazing visual memory, partly because they really have no other choice given the lack of gridwork roads and street names.
The kids living in our compound are really cute. I find that the children here are generally less fussy and more smiley. It makes me wonder what makes our Canadian kids so fussy? I haven't seen a tantrum or a scolding in public yet in Dar.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
A fortnight in Dar....
Ah, so now it has been two weeks since I arrived in Dar, so allow me to recap the events of one fortnight in Tanzania......
I arrived with my roommates Kelly and Rebecca after a full day and night of flying. The airport at Dar is small, but it was the fastest baggage claim I've ever had in my life. In other words, opposite of Air Canada :) Since I could not get a hold of the girl I was supposed to have stayed with, and there are no street signs or clearly defined directions in Dar, I opted to stay with Rebecca and Kelly. Thus began our introduction to the informal rental housing market of Dar es Salaam. What a nightmare, we were told that going through illegal touts would allow us to find a house that was more in our price range, as the property management companies cater only to rich Muzungu (foreigners), which I realized were apparently synonymous even if you are a poor graduate student.
It was at times hilarious. At no time in this adventure were we told the correct price of the rent. Each time we went to see a house that was "apparently" in our price range, we would slowly amass more middlemen along the way until the commission of each tout was so expensive that the rent was no longer affordable. At one point, I found myself squished inthe baskseat of some minivan with my roommates, two illegal touts, one official agent who didn't know what the heck he was doing, and our well-intentioned Swahili friend who was genuinely trying to get us a good deal. We were even shown a house that looked distinctively like a motel because, well, each room had a numbered key and, well, it WAS a motel. The askari (guard), the random informal agent, and the interpreter all insisted that the landlord could rent the whole compound to us because it was the low season. Whenwe finally met with the landlord late at night, he informed us tht he could for sure rent three of the five bedrooms to us, and that the guests using the other two rooms would"not bother using the kitchen or TV room because theyusually stay one night and leave." We politely declined his offer to live in what sounded more and more like a classy brothel.
Other interesting memorable snapshots of our search: Having grapes and orange Fanta on the Persian rug of a man who was showing us his home, while his children and two wives giggled in the background; getting squished in the back of a sedan with three other women and a spare tire (literally).
Luckily, this adventure has concluded with us now residing in a very nice little white house in a quiet neighbourhood in Mikocheni. The people are friendly, the children run barefoot and always with smiles, the cows move out of the way as enormous SUVs barrel down the rocky dirt road, and my life is slowly settling. Its heartbreaking to see the kids so poor, and to even dare to complain about my VISA issues while they are begging on the streets is an enourmous amoutn of guilt to handle. We had no water the first night we moved in, and I came to the realization just how much water our damned Western style toilets use. Sooooo much water, I can bathe and wash my hair with that amount of water.
But I digress. The food here is ...starchy. All those who are diet obssessed can forget about coming to Africa, I have never eaten so much beans, fried bread, and meat, and so little vegetables and fruit. What I would give for a salad right now. But I've been having a blast eating nonetheless. I've resigned myself to getting mild stomach issues and am letting my body slowly adapt. My favorite is to get up early and buy some maandazi (fried bread) and chai for breakfast. The people around my work are slowly getting to know me, and they call me "Mchina" and smile.
The girls and I are planning a nice trip to the beach this weekendso I should be getting some lovely pictures on this blog soon.
I arrived with my roommates Kelly and Rebecca after a full day and night of flying. The airport at Dar is small, but it was the fastest baggage claim I've ever had in my life. In other words, opposite of Air Canada :) Since I could not get a hold of the girl I was supposed to have stayed with, and there are no street signs or clearly defined directions in Dar, I opted to stay with Rebecca and Kelly. Thus began our introduction to the informal rental housing market of Dar es Salaam. What a nightmare, we were told that going through illegal touts would allow us to find a house that was more in our price range, as the property management companies cater only to rich Muzungu (foreigners), which I realized were apparently synonymous even if you are a poor graduate student.
It was at times hilarious. At no time in this adventure were we told the correct price of the rent. Each time we went to see a house that was "apparently" in our price range, we would slowly amass more middlemen along the way until the commission of each tout was so expensive that the rent was no longer affordable. At one point, I found myself squished inthe baskseat of some minivan with my roommates, two illegal touts, one official agent who didn't know what the heck he was doing, and our well-intentioned Swahili friend who was genuinely trying to get us a good deal. We were even shown a house that looked distinctively like a motel because, well, each room had a numbered key and, well, it WAS a motel. The askari (guard), the random informal agent, and the interpreter all insisted that the landlord could rent the whole compound to us because it was the low season. Whenwe finally met with the landlord late at night, he informed us tht he could for sure rent three of the five bedrooms to us, and that the guests using the other two rooms would"not bother using the kitchen or TV room because theyusually stay one night and leave." We politely declined his offer to live in what sounded more and more like a classy brothel.
Other interesting memorable snapshots of our search: Having grapes and orange Fanta on the Persian rug of a man who was showing us his home, while his children and two wives giggled in the background; getting squished in the back of a sedan with three other women and a spare tire (literally).
Luckily, this adventure has concluded with us now residing in a very nice little white house in a quiet neighbourhood in Mikocheni. The people are friendly, the children run barefoot and always with smiles, the cows move out of the way as enormous SUVs barrel down the rocky dirt road, and my life is slowly settling. Its heartbreaking to see the kids so poor, and to even dare to complain about my VISA issues while they are begging on the streets is an enourmous amoutn of guilt to handle. We had no water the first night we moved in, and I came to the realization just how much water our damned Western style toilets use. Sooooo much water, I can bathe and wash my hair with that amount of water.
But I digress. The food here is ...starchy. All those who are diet obssessed can forget about coming to Africa, I have never eaten so much beans, fried bread, and meat, and so little vegetables and fruit. What I would give for a salad right now. But I've been having a blast eating nonetheless. I've resigned myself to getting mild stomach issues and am letting my body slowly adapt. My favorite is to get up early and buy some maandazi (fried bread) and chai for breakfast. The people around my work are slowly getting to know me, and they call me "Mchina" and smile.
The girls and I are planning a nice trip to the beach this weekendso I should be getting some lovely pictures on this blog soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
