Category: Tanzania

  • Have You Been To Tanzania?

    Have You Been To Tanzania?

    I have a question.

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    Oh, it’s an incredible place. By the sea, the east African coast. Let me tell you about it, my friend.

    It’s a place by the equator, where the sun will hit you like an open flame. You will effortlessly tan to a golden bronze, or a lobster red, whichever one your body warms to. But you can leave your woollen socks at home. You will not need them here.

    It’s a place where men sit at their roadside carts piled with poles of sugar cane, shaving them down with a small knife and chopping them into small plastic bags. Enjoy a bag of nature’s candy for less than a dollar, cut fresh right before your eyes.

    It’s a place where the streets come to life – young men walk briskly with trays of peanuts and candy, jingling coins in their hand. You can hear the jingle from the window of your hotel, eight storeys up. The cars beep their horns relentlessly, stuck in the jam sana, and piki pikis weave through the traffic like in a video game.

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where the french fries are not called french fries at all. They’re called chipsi, and they’re not bought bagged from the supermarket. Oh no, sir. They’re peeled and cut every morning from the freshest potatoes, ready to be deep fried batch by batch in a tiny wok. They’re golden, crispy. They’re the most delicious fries in the world.

    It’s a place where the avocados are the size of pineapples. Cut them open and they are rich, creamy and soft, like no avocado you’ve ever seen before. And you don’t buy them for $5 in a gourmet store. No sir, many a kind lady will pull her basket of avocados off the top of her head and sell you one by the side of the street. They eat parachichi by the dozen here, and why wouldn’t you? They only cost around 25 cents.

    It’s a place where you can smell the goat being barbecued a hundred metres away, charring away on a makeshift grill over hot coals. The meat is smokey, gamey, exploding with flavour. Order a portion if you dare – that steak will never taste the same again.

     

    What’s for lunch? #ugali #nyamachoma, bro

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where you might creep 100 metres in an hour on the gridlocked streets of Dar Es Salaam. It’ll be hot, so you’ll need some water. It’ll be long, so you’ll need a few snacks. But young boys will march through the traffic jams, coming right to your car window to sell you whatever it is you need. Once you’ve got your food and drinks, you could also buy some phone credit, a football, maybe a few pots and pans too. You can buy anything from your car window around here.

    It’s a place where fresh oranges are sold on every corner – young men run their sharp knives along the skin, peeling them meticulously and stacking them in small baskets on the back of their bikes. You can eat as many chungwa as you like, they only cost 10 cents or so.

    It’s a place where the kids run wild with muddy knees and shining smiles. Without Xboxes and Nintendos, they play rede under the banana trees, laughing infectiously with every throw. They run not in the video games, but out in the dirt, in the sunshine where kids were always meant to be.

     

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where the women dress wrapped in the brightest fabrics, tailored perfectly to their curves, they laugh with zest and vigor, and smile with unapologetic beauty. They have some of the whitest and brightest smiles in the world.

    It’s a place where minivans are used as dalla dallas – tiny buses designed to fit 12 but often overflowing with more than 30. Arms and heads flailing out the windows, yet they still stop to collect more. If you’re lucky enough to sit at the front with some leg space, ladies will step on and drop their belongings in your lap, before squeezing into the back to find a space to stand. Depending on the day you might get a handbag, a basket of tomatoes, or even a cute little baby in your lap. Don’t worry, they trust you.

    It’s a place where the floury white sand beaches can rival the best in the world. You’ll find them everywhere – Dar Es Salaam, Pangani, Zanzibar. The ocean is warm and clear, and home to electric festivals and delicious seafood. It’s a beach paradise that most will never see, and the locals welcome you to their shores with smiles.

     

    Sunrise beach, Kigamboni Dar es Salaam, Wednesday afternoon. No filter bro.

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where their omelettes are not made with cheese or vegetables, but with french fries. Chipsi mayai they call it, and you can eat it any time of day. Sprinkle some salt, squirt a bit of ketchup. It’s a quick and dirty treat that you’ll surely try more than once.

    It’s a place where the boda boda drivers hang on the corner, lying on their bikes, chatting the day away as they wait for passengers. Need to get somewhere fast? Pay him a dollar or two and jump on the back. They’ll get you from A to B in no time.

    It’s a place where the boys ride dragging baskets of coconuts on their bicycles. Ask him for one and watch him pull out a knife and hack it open in seconds. You want maji, or nyama? Just ask for both and slurp the whole thing down. African coconuts are something else.

     

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where you can get lost in the winding alleys of Stone Town without a care in the world. It’s not dangerous here, nor intimidating. Children run up and down these alleys at all hours of the night. It’ll remind you of Istanbul, or Granada, this place. A tiny town of Arabian flavour on an island, with all the character you could want.

    It’s a place where ladies will sit shaded under a roadside tree, charring corn on the cob over hot coals. Grab one – they’re only a few cents, and fun to eat. It’s like popcorn, Africa style. You’ll be back for more.

    It’s a place where you don’t eat burgers or pizza after a hard night out. Oh no, after one too many Serengeti beers you indulge in a few skewers of mishkaki, perhaps goat or beef, perhaps a side of chipsi and maybe even a grilled quarter chicken. Pub food is a little different around here.

    So tell me, have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where the mornings are started with donuts and tea. The mandazi are cooked fresh each morning – hot and steamy. Lather them with peanut butter and wash them down with a cup of hot chai. Your days will start deliciously here.

    It’s a place where the music is kicking, full of love and guaranteed to take you over. When you’re in a club and an Ali Kiba song comes on, you’ll know what I mean. Once you’ve rocked out to a bit of bongo flava, there’s no going back. I promise you’ll still be rocking your Tanzania jams many years from now.

    It’s a place where the ladies at the market sit behind their stacks of vegetables, piled up high in the afternoon sun. You can hear the laughter from the other end of the street. When they’re not stuffing veges into bags, they’re yammering away to the lady next to them. The market here is gossip city.

     

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where Swahili is the tongue of the streets, and once you throw around a little mambo and hujambo, you’ll be getting smiles from every direction. Don’t be scared. Give a vipi here and there. Sign off with an asante sana. It’s a beautiful language, and you’ll surely miss it when you go.

    It’s a place where the pizza might be a little different to what you’re used to. The Zanzibar pizza, doughy and deep fried, stuffed with meat and onions and veges and cheese. Or perhaps have one for dessert, filled with gooey Nutella and banana. It’s definitely not good for the waistline, but I promise your taste buds won’t complain.

    It’s a place where the kids are full of laughter and smiles. Life is not shiny here but the sparkles in their eyes will tell you different. Kids are full of love and spirit, they greet their elders with a shikamoo, they’re taught to respect their families and communities, they walk to school with a skip in their step. It’s truly beautiful to see.

     

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    It’s a place where people wear their tribal colours with pride. Sip some blood with the masais, drink some banana beer with the chagas. Family, tradition, respect. It’s something to admire here.

    It’s a place where football stickers are plastered on every bajaj and taxi. Who’s your favourite team? Liverpool? Chelsea? The boys here go nuts for it. Grab yourself a cold Serengeti and watch the game. If you’re a football fan you’ll make friends in seconds.

    It’s a place where the food is hearty and simple, no flashy red wine jus or berry compote. Enjoy a banana and beef stew, a grilled fish, a bowl of pilau, some creamy avocado. A little kachumbari on the side. Mush some fresh ugali in your hands and chow it down. Top it off with a fresh mango or coconut. There’s no way you won’t fall in love with it all.

     

    Cooking #beef #stew, #african style.

    A photo posted by Bren (@brenontheroad) on

    Have you been to Tanzania?

    I won’t lie, it’s a place that may bring a few tears. It’s a place that can break your heart. You can see things here you don’t want to see. But it’s a place where you’ll learn a few lessons, too. Tanzanians are strong, optimistic, resilient. You may very well be humbled here, but you’ll love them for it.

    It’s a place you won’t forget quickly. You’ll miss hearing the karibu in the streets, the smell of freshly grilled goat at lunchtime, the shouts of mzungu! followed by a smile and a wave, the kids’ laughing faces, the warm African sun, the tire sandals, the one dollar bottles of konyagi, the oddly delicious sour milk, the mosquito nets, the boda boda rides, the power cuts, the warm beer, the muddy shoes, the tip of Mount Kili peeking out over the clouds, the funky bracelets, the posters of Ludacris outside every hairdresser, the chipsi stacked in the window of every food cart, the shoes being sold on every street corner. There’s something about the place. You’ll miss the love. You’ll miss the chaos. Everyone falls in love with Tanzania.

    So tell me.

    Tanzania.

    Have you been there?


    Beautiful piece about all the small things that make Tanzania beautiful.

    Heading to Tanzania? My Dar city guide might come in helpful!

  • Volunteering in Tanzania: A flashback of my time teaching in Moshi, Kilimanjaro

    Volunteering in Tanzania: A flashback of my time teaching in Moshi, Kilimanjaro

    He looked up at me like I was an alien. He’d probably never seen a pasty, shabby haired oriental specimen like me. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably have turned and run, but he just smiled up at me with a fearless curiosity. It’s funny how kids are like that.

    His name was Joseph, a tiny 4 year old with a smile that would melt even the mightiest of men. As we sat beside each other on the concrete floor I tapped my finger on the page in front of him; my way of telling him to look down and write. My job today was to teach this one child, out of a class of 20, to write the alphabet, and we were up to the letter…..A. I guess if I had a Chinese alien sitting next to me I probably wouldn’t get much work done either.

    Finally, he looked down and attempted to mimic the perfectly scuplted ‘A’ I had written for him. I watched, almost in slow motion, as he pressed the pencil to the page with his tiny fingers, eventually pushing so hard that the lead snapped off with a blunt crack.

    He froze for a moment and then looked up at me wide-eyed, and we both smiled at each other before laughing childishly at the now broken pencil lead rolling on the paper before us. His pencil was only about 5 centimetres long anyway, perhaps the length of a toothpick, and he was holding it like a spinning top rather a writing tool.

    I turned and shouted out to the teacher.

    “Where’s the pencils?”

    She looked at me blankly.

    “Only one each.”

    I hunted the room for one and to my surprise, found nothing. Not even a sharpener. So, we sat there; a 4 year old Tanzanian kid and a Chinese accountant, staring at our broken pencil wondering how we were going to write the alphabet.

    Eventually the teacher came over with a knife, smiling, and sharpened it for us MacGyver style while we both sat there and watched like hungry children. I’m sure she must have been thinking “Geez, does this guy need some kind of magic machine to sharpen his pencil for him?”

    How sad. I actually do.

    Finally she handed it back to us, and now instead of a 5 centimetre pencil we had a 3 centimetre pencil, which I was starting to look at very differently. This wasn’t just any old pencil anymore. If anything happened to it, well, class would be over for the day. You know that adrenaline spike when you’re on the last stage of Super Mario and you’ve only got one life left? Yeah, it was something like that. Seconds later, Joseph grabbed at it blindly, obviously unaware of the severity of the situation.

    “Woah!” I screamed, holding my hands out.

    He jumped with fright, and looked up at me, startled. This kid must think I’m crazy.

    I smiled as if to say “sorry, just kidding”, and then winced as I watched him etch multiple letter A’s into the page, his fingers wrapped awkwardly around the 3cm stub of lead. I was convinced he was going to break it, but he didn’t. Perhaps he was aware we were in the 4th quarter after all. I stared at him, amazed, admiring the intense concentration on his face as he tried tirelessly to sculpt each letter perfectly, one after the other. His fingers shifted continuously, trying to find some sort of grip on his tiny stump of lead, and as impossible as it was he soldiered on, completely zoned out without a care in the world.

    As you can see, it’s a moment I remember quite vividly. But it’s not just because it was funny, or different. It’s because it was the moment that it all hit me- a cold, sudden realisation that the problems here were so much deeper than I had imagined, and that I simply did not have the power to make any real difference to the lives of these kids.

    josephandme
    With Joseph after class

    That was my first day as a volunteer in Tanzania. I sat on the bus home and thoughts bounced through my head like a pinball. I had come here to escape the world of corporate indifference, to try and do something ‘meaningful’, to give my time to something that would actually make someone’s life better. But the reality, as I was discovering, was that the problems here were far bigger than anything I could hope to solve.

    But, first things first. As soon as I got back to the hostel I dropped off my stuff, grabbed some cash and headed to the store to buy a crapload of pencils.

    The first week was the hardest. I soon learned that the kids were not afraid of me. When I told them to shut up they’d laugh and hit me, when I told them to sit down they’d stand up and run around. I quickly learned that to have any influence on them I’d first need to earn their respect. In our status-obsessed world we often have titles and money to hide behind but in their world that was all meaningless. Kids are too smart to be influenced by labels. I knew that if I were to form some kind of bond with them, I had to earn a mutual respect and trust with them based on nothing but my character, and, as they say, kids can be great judges of character. It was a frightening and humbling lesson – I’d spent my whole life working towards corporate success, but behind all that, who was I? As a person, why would a kid trust or respect me? I was forced to really look at myself, reassess who I was and what made me a person of value on the inside. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced, and who would’ve thought it’d be put upon me by a bunch of African preschoolers.

    Volunteering in Moshi, Tanzania

    Before long the second week rolled around, and the teacher decided it was time to put me on the spot – she simply called me to the front of the room and said, “Today, you teach English”. I stood there staring at her, like, what? Really? Normally I would take care of a select 4 or 5 students, either the youngest group or the oldest group, in a corner of the room, and even that felt impossible at times. Teaching a class of 20 just seemed like a joke. I shuffled to the front while giving her a dark smile, my heart thumping like a drum. And then, I thought to myself, what would I want my weird looking Asian substitute teacher to be like if I were 5 years old – a boring guy who stood at the front and talked, or a crazy looney who did a whole bunch of stupid stuff? So, as soon as I got to the front I just ran around the room, jumping up and down and high-fiving all of them. Of course, they went crazy.

    That day I taught them three phrases:

    “Hello”

    “My name is _____________”

    “Nice to meet you” (with a handshake)

    Then I got them to walk around the room introducing themselves to each other in English, and for one hour, that’s all we did (I didn’t have time to plan, ok?)

    Funnily enough, the kids loved it. From that day on, they would greet me every single day with a handshake and a “Hello, my name is ____________, nice to meet you!” I probably should’ve told them you only say it the first time you meet someone, but they were having so much fun that I just let them roll with it. But there was a greater lesson in all that, which was the fact that they really were learning things from me. And I realised that if I could teach them that, I could teach them anything. So I wondered – what should I be filling their young little minds with?

    Finally I understood the mighty Spiderman – with great power comes great responsibility.

    Over the next couple of months we slowly built that student-teacher bond. I taught them to make paper planes, to sing “We will rock you” by Queen, and to focus a camera before taking a photo. They taught me their favourite songs, showed me their favourite games and taught me how to eat the local food. I began walking students home after class, where I would see their homes and meet their families. It was an emotional rollercoaster and in all honesty, left me feeling completely powerless. Could I really help these people? They lived in homes with no running water, no electricity, no toilets, usually sharing a bed with 2 or 3 other people and being raised by grandparents or single mothers. Where would I even begin?

    Two months flew by, and before long it was time for me to leave. Surprisingly, the goodbyes were easier than I’d imagined. There were no tears, and no last minute phone calls to try and push my departure date (which I’d already done twice). I was at peace with the decision, and although I would’ve loved to stay it felt like the right choice to leave rather than continue getting more and more involved in their lives. Besides, deep down, I knew it was only a matter of time before I returned.

    Afterthoughts

    After my experience, my feelings on voluntourism are extremely mixed, particularly when it comes to working with children. All of a sudden I was a part of their lives, and then I was gone just as suddenly as I had arrived. I can’t help but wonder if I further contributed to the abandonment issues so many of these kids already have. It’s an issue I feel strongly about, as volunteering in Africa seems to be a popular holiday choice these days, but I suppose I’ll leave that discussion for a later post. For now I think the big question to ask myself is, did I really make a difference?

    To be honest, I have no idea.

    I don’t even know if those kids will remember me 10 years from now. What did I add to their lives, other than a few laughs and distant memories? In what way did I make their lives better?

    I really do struggle to find an answer.

    In fact, I think the person who benefited most from the whole experience was…me. As kids we’ve all been told to “finish your dinner, because children are starving in Africa”, and by the time we grow up I think most of us are completely desensitised to it. For that reason I wasn’t expecting to be too shocked by what I saw, but I was. Poverty has far deeper effects than I had imagined, and is a mixture of so many different causes and problems. Solving it will be a far more complicated affair than simply buying food and feeding everyone.

    That doesn’t mean the people are any less happy, though. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Their lives were full of laughter and joy and they were all incredibly rich in spirit. While many cultures today are all about material wealth, there’s were all about community and family, and when you think about it those values seem to make a lot more sense. That was a powerful lesson for me – I realised my whole life I’d been chasing the wrong things, and there was a lot of self-reflection going on after I returned home.

    Perhaps the best part about the whole experience though was that it’s motivated me more than ever to try and make that real difference I’d been searching for. I now have an ongoing project in Tanzania, which is quite a long story and will need to wait for a later date, but I’ve been lucky enough to return to Tanzania twice since my first trip and the first thing I do is head up to the preschool and visit my old kids. Many of them have since moved on to primary school, but I still see them around and they do remember me. In fact, the first thing one of them did was run over to me, hold out his hand and say “Nice to meet you!”

    I guess they did learn something after all.

    Volunteering in Tanzania

    Have you volunteered before? What is your opinion on voluntourism? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

    There are many “pay-to-volunteer” services around that are quite expensive. My volunteering experience was free and I arranged it myself without the help of any agency. If you would like to learn more about how to do this, you are welcome to send me an email. You can also check out Grassroots Volunteering, a great online resource for ethical volunteer opportunities. My friend Dorota also has a great post on responsible volunteering here.

    Heading to Tanzania? My Dar city guide might come in helpful!