Tanzania: Tanga

It is about 2 in the morning here in Tanzania and a quiet, somewhat sad night. We are just getting home from my uncle's home (Mohammed Sheni & Co) where we spent the last few hours enjoying chicken, chips (aka french fries), and bhajiya (kind of like tastier versions of falafel?) as well as watching the Ghana versus Uruguay game. God, I felt so broken watching those penalty shots; I don't even want to think about it again. Penalty shootouts trip me out. I feel like they don't reflect anything about who played how well during the rest of the game (counterintuitive!). Ah. Oh well. They played well throughout their time in the Cup. I'm glad The Netherlands took Brazil out. I feel like that team is super underrated even though their first half performance today, in my opinion, was not nearly as clean as they usually play. Their lack of flexibility in terms of pace is probably their greatest weakness. I hope Germany creams Argentina tomorrow and that Spain takes out Paraguay. It really is too bad about Ghana, though. Alright, enough sports commentary.

The last few days have been kind of busy but kind of not. Hmm. Let's see. Yesterday, we left the house in the "morning" to check out stores where we could purchase "fancy" Indian clothing, as I had heard they were cheaper here. Okay, for those of you who have heard that and believe it, let me share something with you. This information is false! If an outfit here is cheap, it's because no one wants to buy it (you and I included). Even mediocre outfits were creeping upon $200! That entire morning / early afternoon was an epic fail. I'm sure there are little stores / golden nuggets that are hidden somewhere in the winding, crowded alleys that make up Dar e Salaam. I'll just have to do some exploring when and if we find the time.

My uncles from Toronto (Hassan and Shabbir Boga) flew in the night before this little excursion so we met up with them while we were out. I had forgotten how much I missed Uncle Hassan and his crazy, crazy ways. He left for Zanzibar this morning and will be there until the end of July. I believe he and a few of his "crew members" are renting a house on the island in which he offered us a room. This will be nice, as Ally and I want to spend two nights on the island and free accommodations for two traveling students is always a good thing! He is hoping to open up a few dentistry clinics in Zanzibar (non profit) and snag volunteers from abroad to work there. I'm not sure what the particulars are in this little project of his, but I am definitely curious to hear more about it (hence, us deciding to tack on an extra day in Zanzibar).

We also went out to have the usual "mix and chai" afterwards with Uncle Shabbir and Chacha. It was definitely not as good as Chachi's, although, I could just feel that way about it because I tried hers first. Oh, PS. The passion fruit juice here is to die for. So delicious and it's the new-cool-thing that everyone drinks. De-lish! It's available at all times and with every meal! Post-mix, I went to get my eyebrows done. I know this isn't an important detail, but I'm putting it in here for mum's benefit. I also met a young African girl there who is studying cosmetics, etc. She wants to open her own salon, which I hear is highly common among Indians but not really among Africans. Admirable endeavor, I think. Threading my eyebrows and upperlip costed 3,000 shillings total - which is less than three dollars! Who knew that was even possible?! You won't get cheap Indian outfits here, but, if you want to get your eyebrows done, this is the place, my friend!

That night, I attended my first wedding in Dar. I suppose it was everything that I expected and many things that I was not accustomed to. There were a lot of people (expected) and they served biryani for dinner (also expected) which was too delicious (expected) and made from scratch and in bulk by Nisar, my father's cousin (totally unexpected). They started on time (not used to that) and the ceremony as well as dinner were both done within an hour and a half (definitely not used to that, either). All in all, it was a lot of fun. The moulana (I suppose our version of a priest? religious scholar?) is from Austin and was an entertaining speaker. He discussed the five keys to a strong relationship (primarily matrimonial ones) and was quizzing the groom as he went along to make sure he was keeping up. His responses were spot-on, despite the fact that over 600 people were watching him (including his soon-to-be). Props.

We came home and Aabida wanted me to dress her up "bridal" style so I whipped out the make up bag and my straightener and got to work. She asked me to be her bridesmaid, when the time comes, which made me laugh. Her mum (chachi) responded with, "Finish school first!" She, Ally, and I had some really great laughs. At about 2 in the morning, we finally started packing. Our bus for Tanga left Dar at 6:30 AM and this particular bus has a notorious reputation for being overly punctual and leaving early (very rare in this country). Man, the bus ride was insane. I have never been on such a bumpathon in my life! We didn't really stop to go to the restroom on the trip so by the time we were an hour away from Tanga (5-6 hour bus ride), our bladders were full and the bumps were making life very difficult. On the bright side, it did provide quite the entertainment value to the experience. Chachi is so ridiculous when it comes to these things. Her comments puzzle me but there is also this weird familiarity to them.

Tanga is a smaller city than Dar. It seems cleaner on the surface (in terms of how much trash is hangin' out on the streets) and everyone and their mom uses a bicycle to get around, which makes congestion seem like less of a problem. Aabida described the city as "munjaaro," which seems to be the word of the century here. They use it to mean "boring" or "depressing" but not in a totally negative way. It seems almost endearing. I'm not sure I have found a place in Tanzania where I can say, "Yes. Now, here. Here I can live." but I think I am getting to see a lot of places where I know I couldn't live. Dar is a good example. There is a lot of need there, though. Ally and I were talking about what project I could submit to The Davis Projects for Peace program / grant. I keep thinking about sanitation and waste and told her that I wanted to set up programs in schools with children regarding "trash and hygiene" and then maybe doing cleanups every week in different parts of the city. It's just such a problem here because the mentality of the city (maybe even the mentality of the nation?) seems to be one that is so okay with throwing things out of the window. It's second nature to litter. Changing that requires one hell of a national overhaul.

That's something else I'd like to learn more about. What exactly does the government do here? I mean, besides charging expats way too much money to hit up tourist attractions? I'm sure we will have time in Kibaha to sit with people and discuss Tanzanian politics, its evolution, and the role of government here. I'm looking forward to that. I haven't seen anything publicly run yet! Maybe I'm just missing something? I'd ask around when I got back to Dar but I need to find the right people to ask. Maybe Chacha could help out with that ..

Something else that has been on my mind is this whole relationship between Africans and Indians. Last summer, when I was in Los Angeles visiting my maternal grandparents, we discussed their experiences in the revolution in Zanzibar, spurred by an Arab sultan (to some, Arab tyrant) and the mistreatment of many Africans on the island. I don't think that has changed at all here. I mean, every Indian household that I have been in has an African "maid" (aka "chori"). Even wealthier African households employ African maids. The economic-major half of me says, "Okay. That's cool. You're employing someone who has made the choice to work with you, meaning they have no economic option that is more favorable. That's the law of life, buddy." But, then, when you look at the relationship between these two groups of people, it's so much more complicated! Some of these choris are basically part of the family because they have been working there for so long (Moshi has been working at Chachi's house for eight years). They could not get on without her.

Despite this constant physical proximity, however, there seems to be a large emotional void between the two groups. If the maids sleep at home, they either sleep in a separate building or on the floor in one of the storage rooms. If we are home at lunch time and food isn't ready, the maid (9 out of 10 times) gets scolded (this is an understatement) and told off for the food not being ready on time. I know that Indians felt superior to Africans in the past, but I thought now this might be different. I have definitely seen households where African maids are seen more as coworkers and not so much as subordinates but, for the most part, there is such a huge divide between the two populations and the behavior of one towards the other seems (almost always) so condescending and short-tempered. I don't think I will ever understand this whole color business. Damn colonialism went and tipped the scales in all kinds of weird directions.

Oh, there was one more thing. So, this whole "TIA" ("This is Africa") philosophy is another interesting phenomenon in Tanzania. Time, here, is not a real thing. Well, I suppose time is one of those things that is as real or as unreal as you want it to be, but in Tanzania?! Man, oh man. Time is not a thing. You do what you need to do when you need to do it. Deadlines are overly flexible. Ally, the other day, said that she saw Dar as a place "in between being built up and being torn down." That's such an accurate description of how things are here. You take as long as you take to do what you need to do - up to a point where it all looks like it's stuck in the same place, not really moving in any particular direction. God, I'd love to just scrub this city down, purge it, prune it, and then hit the restart button. But then I'd be a colonial empire. Not on my to-do list right now. No, no.

Also, we are eating too much. No, really. We are. Today, we got into Tanga and went to see Mohammed Sheni at work. He bought us like a pound of fried mohogo (cassava) and twenty skewers of mishkaki (little pieces of grilled beef). We went home half an hour later and were greeted by rice, fried fish, mchuzi ya bateta (potatoes in a tomato-ey sauce), daal (lentil curry), and bhajiya (the "falafels"). We napped for a few hours and went over to Mohammed Sheni's house. Who were we to find but roasted chicken, french fries, and bhajiya at the door waiting to let us in! Good Jesus. Ally's lucky. That girl is going to Spain next to walk El Camino de Santiago. With that hiking-20-miles-a-day action, she'll be wearing her old pants in no tiiiiime. I'm stuck running around in Chachi's old nighties because my sweatpants are like, "Yo. I ain't got room fo' all that in here." I'm joking (clearly), but I would like you to know that, in this joke, there lies a nugget of truth. A very big nugget.

It's 3 AM here. I have written too much. I need to hit the journal (I know, who thought I could possibly have more to say?) and then drift off to sleep. We will most likely be staying in Tanga until Sunday instead of leaving today and going to Morogoro. Tomorrow, we are going to the Amboni caves. Apparently, they were this underground tunnel-type-system that Africans used when they were hiding from the Germans (I am not sure how accurate this is; will find out tomorrow). I also hope that the matches go as planned so my post-Ghana-loss spirits can take a u-turn. 'Night for now!