What is up with that?

Some strange (well to me) things that people do here that I hope to have an explanation to before I leave:

1) They name the buses. The most excellent example so far is one bus we saw on our way to Kiboroloni Market...this bus was called "Dick Cheney" (I am sure he is proud).

People also have very unique names here as well...see my post entitled, " Hello Bananas!".

2) Winter hats. Yes...it is 35C outside and people, old men, women, and a lot of babies are decked out in knit winter hats. I don't think they are all hip hoppers so there goes that explanation...and I also don't think they are cold. We have even seen people in winter jackets on days that are so hot that even the devil would be ordering iced tea.

Although cold is a relative thing. People here cannot even begin to imagine how people can survive on an icy cold 10C day in Canada...in fact they shiver when we tell them about it. Of course as most travellers do, when we tell them about the snow in Canada, we break out the old winter of 1998 story. The time the snow was up to the top of the roofs and Toronto's mayor called the army in to help shovel the sidewalks. By the time we leave we will have them all convinced we live in igloos, ski to work and eat penguins. YIPPEE!

3) The mullets. What is the deal with the mullets?
For those of you unfamiliar with this hairstyle sometimes referred to as "hockey hair" in Canada. From Wikipedia: A mullet is a hairstyle that is short in the front, top, and sides, but long in the back . The hairstyle was popular during from early 1970s to the early 1990s and many think it has died out. However, I am happy to tell mullet fans everywhere that the mullet is alive and well in Moshi.

There is a small Indian population in Moshi. Most of them are shop owners and judging by the Sikh temple and the Hindu temple and the handful of Indian restaurants, they are very active in the community. However someone needs to make a desperate call to Tanzania and tell the 25-45 year-old Indian male set that mullets are no longer cool. One guy, I think he is one of the owners of a big ex-pat overpriced restaurant in Moshi called Deli Chez, not only has a mullet. He even has the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and gold chains. I think he thinks he's Shah Rukh Khan's twin...


4) The roundabout way of speaking...two prime examples are when we were looking for a bus to go to Arusha. We walked to the bus station and we soon surrounded by a friendly group of people all trying to convince us to try their buses. We had decided on one bus, a coach sized bus, relatively road-worthy, no missing tires which would allow us to travel in relative comfort for the low low price of 2000 Tsch ($2). As we were about to board the bus, someone offered us his bus, which was smaller and MORE EXPENSIVE. Yes...those were the selling points...smaller and more money. Another example of this is a recent ad for Heineken. (Heineken is desperately trying to make inroads into Tanzania...I think they are marketing themselves as the hip, young, poa/cool beer). The ad extols the fact that the new Heineken bottle is not only SMALLER...it's more expensive. I just don't get it...

5) Mob Justice- If someone has a problem here...everyone has a problem apparently. The other day we witnessed the negotiation stage of a car accident. Two cars had apparently collided, the damage was minor and no one was hurt, but judge and jury was being conducted right there on the street. A large crowd had gathered and all were "assisting" the party they had decided was wronged obtain monetary justice from the mazungu (white person/foreigner) who had done the "wronging". This brought to mind something my professor at Humber told us about car accidents in Africa."If you are ever driving and hit a chicken, cow, goat, person...don't EVER stop and get out of the car as your fate/fine/guilt will be decided right then and there by a mob." I don't think anyone here factors in the mental state of the person driving, their bad childhood, or the fact that they were late for work into the sentence.

Note: Of course if you hit a person with your car you should report it immediately to the nearest police station....I don't condone committing hit and run ANYWHERE. Unless you just hit the village chief ;) If you have hit the village chief...here's my advice "JUST GET ON THE PLANE!".

6) The snotty ex-pats: (From Wikipedia- expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence.

Here is my impersonation of an expat in Africa..." Ooooo I am sooooo African. Look at my kanga (traditional east African cloth) that I had made into a dress. Watch and listen as I speak Swahili like a pro. Aren't I clever I am in Africa. I spit on all North Americans/Europeans/People from developed countries. I spit on consumerism. I spit in your general direction. I am an ex-pat in Africa and all those who cross my path who are not African are to be reviled."

Almost all of the ex-pats (aside from the hostel dwelling partiers who conversely want nothing to do with Africans) want nothing to do with ex-pats. They are a unique breed of people, possibly born on the wrong continent to the wrong parents. Perhaps many of the choices they have made in life have been bad ones. Perhaps they are escaping something..but now they have found their home and walk amongst the "poor and unfortunate Africans" (note: my tongue is so firmly in my cheek!). However these same ex-pats are most often spotted in the ex-pat places drinking cappuccinos.

More "What exactly is up with that?" examples will follow in the coming months I am sure :)

Hello Bananas!

After two weeks of saying "Hujambo!" (hello!) to everyone...and then following it up with "Habari?" (more or less how are you?) and then smiling like an idiot as I don't know anymore Swahili...we have started Swahili lessons! The best response I had to someone speaking Swahili to me was the other day when we were walking back to campus. (For the past two weeks people have been greeting us...I thought I had greetings down).

Here is the exchange:

Lady on Street: "Ndizi?"
Me: "Hello!"

Ndizi means banana and she had a big basket of them in front of her... So for those of you following...Someone said "Banana?" and I said, "Hello!". So...I really really need Swahili lessons.

We had a two hour lesson on Tuesday, a two hour lesson on Wednesday and we are going to have a marathon (broken up by the tea break at 10am) 4 hour lesson on Thursday. We are being taught Swahili by Mr. Masera, a communication prof at the university. He possesses a very mysterious accent...a kind of African-British accent, yet when I asked him if he had been to university in the UK he said, "Oh no!" in his funny accent...and then did not offer any more information. He's a closed book this Mr. Masera.

Some info about Swahili: Swahili is a language spoken in Southeast Africa. It is the primary language of over half the East African coast. Swahili is the seventh most commonly spoken language in the world with a conservative estimate of 45 million speakers as a first or second language. Swahili is a Bantu language and incorporates thousands of words, the majority of them Arabic.

Thanks to the British and various other English speaking wanderers and traders it turns out...we already knew some Swahili. Among Swahili words "borrowed" from English are:

motokaa - motorcar
Mashini - machine
Soksi - socks
jeansi- jeans
televisheni- television
treni-train
Wikiendi- weekend
benki - bank
hoteli - hotel
baiskeli - bicycle
petroli - petrol
sinema - cinema


The best bit of Swahili I have learned so far is how to say, "really!" Which in my Rough Guide to Tanzania is "I say!" as in "Old chap!". I haven't used this one when actually speaking to a Swahili speaker yet...and when I do I hope I don't have another "Chello!" incident like I did in India. My guide said "Chello!" meant, "GO AWAY!" in Hindi...it really means, "Let's Go!". This explained the smiles I got when I used it on various men who were bugging me while I was on the beach in Goa. Never trust a guidebook!

People here also have some interesting names...so far we've met or Jen (who gets to hang out in the real Tanzania in downtown Moshi)..people named Happy, Godswishes, and VeryNice. If only names had something to do with destiny right? (If anyone has read Freakonomics they will know what I mean...)

Tonight we (Jen and I as Pat has already mastered this) promised our favourite waitress at the the campus cafeteria (CoCasa), her name is Hadija, that we would know how to count to ten in Swahili by tonight...I feel like I am five (or Tano in Swahili) as I have been practising all day and keep forgetting words...here is my final practice for the night.

Presenting one to ten in Swahili, moja, mbili, tatu, nne, tano, sita, saba, nane, tisa, kumi...I had to ask Pat how to say 8 and 9 while I was typing this...I think my brain is fried.

P.S. Also..for all you Lion King fans...you can't go around Tanzania saying "Hakuna Matata!" No one here know's what the hell that means...stupid Lion (Swahili: Simba) King (no idea...Mustapha?)...

The "Ridoinkulous" Goat Ceremony

On Saturday, Pat, Jen and I, took a trip to Arusha. It's the closest major city and a good test of your strength of character...and stomach. As the highway there is the deadliest in all of Tanzania. This reputation can be partly blamed on the potholes, but mostly blamed on the fleet of buses in disrepair and the slew of crazy drivers who captain them.

We made it there in one piece and immediately began to appreciate the small town atmosphere of Moshi. As we had all forgotten our guide books we were a little lost as to how to proceed...we need our Rough Guides! Thankfully we had a contact, a former IPMP student named Andrea, who has been living in Arusha for the past six months. I sent Andrea a text message and she agreed to meet us near the Central Market. (The most amazing site at the central market were the basket upon basket of dried sardines...I thought they were dried slices of ginger until I noticed they had eyes).

Andrea took us to "Via Via", an ex-pat (Belgians) owned hangout near the court where the Rwandan Genocide tribunals are taking place. The most amazing site at this place was the menu...a traditional Tanzanian meal of rice, beans and spinach was 6 000 Tsch ($6). We pay 700 Tsch ( 70 cents) in Moshi....now that's markup!

At every Saturday night some local Masai gather to perform a traditional goat ceremony for a mostly ex-pat or tourist audience. A goat, normally the same innocent creature seem innocently eating grass on the lawn hours before, is slaughtered to "entertain" dim witted tourists. Now I have no issue with Masai...or goats...or Masai slaughtering goats...or goat slaughtering ceremonies. I have issue with things becoming spectacles in order to amuse dumb tourists.

Every Saturday night, these local Masai gather in what looks like the CNE band shell to slit the throat of a goat. The blood is gathered in a bucket, and stirred regularly to prevent it from congealing. They all drink some of the blood and eat the kidneys and other organs. The goat is then skinned and roasted on a nearby fire pit for all to enjoy. Masai dancing, beer drinking and merriment ensue.

I don't want to get in the way of merriment...but let's just say that I won't be attending any staged goat ceremonies. If one day I am walking through the bush, meet a Masai and I am invited to attend, I will (and I'll close my eyes at crucial moments). I wonder what's going through the heads of the the people who sit there, taking photos, drinking Kilimanjaro beer and already conjuring up exaggerated stories for the people back home..I really really wonder.

Ingenious Ingenuity

I am amazed by people's here ability to make the most of their situations...sometimes their solutions are a bit Pythonesque....but the ability to laugh at silly things is a gift I think :)

Here a a few examples of this ingenuity (shady and otherwise)...ask yourself if this would work in Canada.

1) Plastic bags - They are everywhere. Sometimes I think a nice environmentally related (we know how much CIDA-Canada's foreign aid granting agency loves proposals that have an environmental slant) micro finance project would be to start a tote bag making factory and distribution system. Plastic bags are evil...but even more so here, when they litter the postcard worthy landscape and seem to try to mask as leaves on trees. Children here gather the plastic bags, roll them around each other layer by layer, and secure them with plastic bags to make soccer balls.


2) Photo Ops- There is an extremely ugly monument in the centre of town. I tried to take a photo of it yesterday and ended up encountering another form of ingenuity. As I was about to press the shutter, a face appeared in my viewfinder. The person spoke..."Charge!". I said "What?" He said "Charge...1000 Schillings (that is about $1). He tried to convince me that there was a charge for taking a photo of the monument...I told him he shouldn't lie. I am not sure he understood me...but I left without taking the photo. We asked some locals later, apparently there is no charge for taking a photo, I had just encountered some more African ingenuity...a local who spotted a tourist and thought he'd make a quick schilling or two or a thousand :)

The monument:

It is a monument of an armed solider, dressed in camouflage, with a very menacing grimace on his face. Underneath the statue is written "Water for Life"....due to the scary solider...we've nicknamed it "Water or Life!". Apparently the monument is meant to commemorate African Soldiers who died in WWI and WWII....in reality...people in the area have told us that the monument is a local joke. As the surrounding fountain runs continuously and the surrounding landscape is watered heavily and daily. A little bit of an joke in an area with water shortages.


3) Enhanced Cement:

It seems there is a building boom in Moshi. Apparently with inflation, if you have some extra money the best thing to do is buy some land, and build a house...as a house will always appreciate in value...where as money you have socked away in the bank may not. Our project co-coordinator, Helen, is having a house built in a new sub-division on the outskirts of Moshi town and took us to visit the site (photos on Facebook). They are still working on the foundation, but the wall surrounding the property is built...well kind of. As we were inspecting the wall, she gave it a really good shake, it almost fell over. African ingenuity....seems the construction workers have been "supplementing" the cement with sand...and selling the "extra" cement to make a profit. Apparently sand and cement...like oil and water...do not mix very well :)


Ways to make a buck...ways to stretch a dollar ...and ways to make toys out of what you have...how ingenious :)

Tazanian Symphony

Under a canopy of a sky painted with gold glitter surrounded by the most majestic mountain in the world, each night we lowly interns are treated to a Tanzanian symphony the likes of which I could never have imagined.

It starts a few hours after the sun has gone down. First you hear fire crackling and roasted corn popping. Then, something more familiar, people greeting each other and a melody of Swahili fills the air. As the sky gets darker, the crickets come alive. Each one calling out desperately to the other, as if they each think they are the last two crickets on earth. There's laughter from the men gathered in the dining room as they talk about their days and maybe a last sound bite from "Big Brother Africa". The night settles, the voices fade to sleep and the final act begins. Howling, barking, screeching...dogs who would live a boring daytime TV existence in Canada have full on HBO lives here in Africa. They meet each night to fight, play, eat, and howl at the moon. Their lives, no matter how short, seem eventful as their conversations continue on into the night and stop only when the sun begins to peek over their shoulders.

As the sun comes up, the people come alive once more. Sweeping, cleaning, clearing, cooking...getting ready for another day. Africa it seems...never sleeps. In every nook, under every rock, in every field, in every tree, behind every wall, and under every leaf there is something or someone going about their lives.

C.S.I. Tanzania

I've now participated in two events unique to the Tanzanian and/or East African experience....daladalas and nyama choma.


Daladalas are old Toyota vans and you see them all over the place here in Moshi. They are usually crammed to the brim with mamas, babas, bwanas, bibis, boys, girls, nuns and sometimes even chickens (live chickens). You stand at the daladala stand, wait for it to slow down, then you, along with at least 5-10 other people try to cram your way onto an already full bus. You have to put all common "North American" sense aside along with visions of being hurling out of a moving bus and just jump right on. Somehow everyone manages to squish their way in and squish their way out and the daladala driver (and his assistant) manage to keep track, without tickets or tokens, who has paid and who hasn't. It's the cheapest ride around...(300 Schillings = 30 cents) and you can get to just about anywhere. You knock really hard on the window and the bus will stop to let you out. The main problem I can see is being able to see where you are going when you are standing up in a bus, hanging on to a bar (or Jen's arm) for dear life, with half of your body hanging out of the door. So far so good though..although I read in my Rough Guide to Tanzania last night that the Moshi-Arusha highway (the one we will be on most of the time) is the most dangerous in Tanzania. It doesn't surprise me...the roads here are mostly potholes.

However even potholes come with their advantages. Pat told me about one enterprising individual who lives near Seminar Block (our dormitory) has a wheelbarrow full of dirt which he uses to fill in the pot holes in the road. He then sets up rocks and charges passing cars a "toll" to go by. Here's a ministry of transportation that actually gets things done! Although I did ask Pat if he fills the same holes all day, or if he fills the holes, collects the tax, then at the end of the night collects his dirt, goes home, and starts all over again the next day. This remains to be seen...I'll have to watch out for him.

Last night, I finally tried "nyama choma" at the Green Garden Bar (right by the university). Nyama Choma is char-grilled meat, often accompanied with grilled plantains and chili sauce. Traditionally the meat is beef, but they were only serving chicken and goat while we were there. You have to go over to the booth where they grill the meat to order, and as we were trying to decide between goat and chicken, I looked down and saw a goat's tail on the counter...and decided right then and there I wanted chicken. Although the presence of the tail relates to the freshness of the meat, so that was reassuring.

We had a great time, trying to eat the chicken, and trying to identify which part we were eating. (They chop it up into bite-sized pieces and bring it to your table on a platter) Somehow (thanks Pat!) we got it into our heads that one of the unidentifiable pieces was the head...and even though they never serve the head...I got scared at least twice into thinking a certain piece was the head (Check facebook for photos). The meat was tasty (there are no spices added it's just grilled), the service was there (although slow....everything is more laid back here and it took almost 1.5 hours to get served), and we had a lot of laughs eating the chicken. What a bunch of weirdos :)

Natasha Meets Kilimanjaro

Seems I made it to Tanzania in one piece...and had an uneventful trip :) The kind people at Kenyan Airways "The Pride of Africa" let me and the giant camera case on the plane without incident and without extra charges...how nice.

I met Jen, my other fellow Humber intern, at Heathrow and it was nice to have company and conversation for the flight. The best part was the prop plane from Nairobi to Moshi, where we got to glimpse Kilimanjaro out of the window. I of course didn't think it was Kilimanjaro..but seeing as how it was the only mountain around for miles and we were about to land..and all of the other tourists were taking photos of it out the window...It must have been. Here is a first glimpse...ok I can't upload right now..check facebook!)

We arrived on time in Moshi and were picked up by a MUCCoBS driver who was accompanied by Pat (the other Humber intern)...Pat looked a little wild and crazy..which made me think has he gone nuts :) (Hi Pat!). But as it turns out he has used this past month to really get to know the people...and made a lot of friend in the process. Our first stop was the dorm rooms where we will be staying. I have to admit my first thought was...OH MY GOD! I WANT TO GO HOME! WHAT AM I DOING? but then after I had a 4 hour nap...and wiped everything down with bleach..I thought. It's not so bad...what is my problem? So I'll settle in for the next 6 months..and hopefully we can all make our rooms feel a little like home as we try and make Moshi feel a little like home as well. (I've posted photos of the room on my facebook)

We (Pat, Jen and I) ventured into the town last night for dinner. Despite a short power outage, during which I whipped out my handy little flashlight) we managed to get our dinner in under two hours. I feasted on milk tea (like chai but spicier) and chips (fries) with beef fillet on the side. Beef seems to come with everything here...which explains why I have not seen any cows. I have however seen quite a few Masai :)

I am a little worried about my diet over the next few months..but hopefully we can gain the courage to hit the markets and buy fruit soon.

Today was my first day in the office and I finally met Dr. Bee (Bay) and quite a few other people who I will be working with. I hope to remember at least 10% of their names by the end of my internship. I think everyone should walk around with name tags..or at least let me mark them (like that episode of the Office...with the two Japanese waitresses). Breakfast was chappattis...plain..one..along with more spicy milk tea. After lunch we ventured into town and I bought toilet paper, cleanser, a scrub brush, milk powder, tea bags and some water. Tonight we are having dinner on campus...hopefully something healthy..well at least something other than meat or starch.

I have the first few days off to get settled...but my internship is going to start with a heavy workload. I will be collecting data on Humber's five year microfinance project in Tanzania...as most of the data doesn't exist...this will either be really interesting..or just like IPMP (just make up the data!).

We are going to Arusha this weekend..it's more of a tourist town than Moshi, and hope to buy cell phones. Everyone here has them and keeps in touch with text messsaging...our cab driver "Tom" came and picked us up last night after Pat messaged him. So it seems a cell phone is essential...

London Layover: Toast and Tapas

I love London! Although on my adventurometer I haven't even gotten my toes wet yet... I arrived safe, sound and little smelly (show me someone who can sleep on a plane and come out looking great...and I'll show you someone who got to sit in first class).

Nothing weird happened on my way over here...I am still in shock. The plane was amazing...a carbon emitting giant Boeing 777 with a personal tv device at every seat, the food was good, my seatmate did not burst into tears and start up a confessional conversation with me (about how he had slept with a married man who was actually his PhD advisor..this actually happened to me once..only the he was a she so it made it that much LESS interesting).

I stored my luggage and the GIANT METAL CAMERA CASE (courtesy of Humber College...will post photos of Kenyan pilot yelling at me in Nairobi when he/she sees it later) and took the tube (a.k.a Subway) into Central London. It took an hour...and 1/2 of that was spent listening to what can only be described as a "fish wife" yelling at her two kids who were sitting across from her and using quite a few f--king and f--ks...nice. Adel's flat is a five minute walk from Angel (on the Northern line). The plane landed at 9:05 am and I arrived at Adel's place at noon. We had a quick chat, I freshed up a bit and we headed out for a stroll to look around Islington, all of the nice cafes (and all of the well dressed brunchy people) in search of brunch. We sat at a nice corner cafe and I had toast and jam...yes I know I can get that at home.

After the walk...and a stop into Sainsbury's (my mecca of food) where Adel bought me some essential supplies (Mueller Crunch banana yogurt with chocolate covered corn flakes...try it before you say EUUUUUU!) we came back to the flat.

Once we were back...a wave of exhaustion hit me..and after I finished some work I had to for Oracle (my Leave of Absence apparently started on Friday..apparently), I spoke to Patrick (I miss him already!), instant messaged with my sister, and took a short nap. I woke up completely refreshed and ready for my goodbye dinner out with Raj, Kathlean and Baby Mark.

Mark (Eh Up!) met me at Adel's and we took the tube together to meet Raj and Kathlean at the Belsize Park stop. We were 1/2 hour late and Raj had already set up shop at the tapas place across the street. We ordered tons of food ...garlic chicken, calamari, avocado salad, king prawns (who looked me in the eye as I ate them) etc. We also drank tons of booze..Spanish beer and Portuguese champagne (Cava)...needless to say it was a great night out...and we had lots of fun and of course lots of embarrasing conversation. i.e. -"Remember 15 years ago when you used to do this?" and more of "Oh yes...remember the time when you almost died of embarrassement?"




Ahh...good times...and more to come :)