Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Digitally Remastered

After what seems like a while, I'm back in Dar. That means achingly slow internet, which, of course, is better than no internet. We actually have internet at home now -- oh yeah! I've edited my last two posts (Bongoyo and Mara entries) to include pictures of what I've been up to.

I'll upload those safari pics as soon as I can...

Sunday, 7 June 2009

Cottoned on

[Kinda delayed post. This is the first time I've had internet since Thursday, but here goes...]

Businesspeople talk about doing things 80/20. Right now, I'm 20% blogging, 80% swatting the swarms of mosquitos in my room in Musoma. I believe this is probably because the holes in the window screens are large enough to accomodate a small bird. Statistically, my chance of contracting malaria tonight is quite high, but I'm not too worried. As John and the lovely Steph will recall, we managed to emerge disease-free from a night in a mosquito-infested hostel in Brazil... during a dengue fever epidemic. If I can get through that, malaria should be no biggie, right?

But back to the blogging... I started the week off in Bunda, a small town where everything happens at one (hectic) intersection. There's isn't much to the place, but it's very beautiful since it's at the foot of a huge boulder-mountain. Actually, it's less like a mountain and more like a giant pile of boulders (some at least 20' in size) with trees growing on it. Distant memories from Grade 9 geography tell me that the rock formations are gracier-formed.


I stayed at a place called the "Spice Rite Hotel." Yeah, the name doesn't make sense to me either. The ol' Spice Rite is actually a pretty happening place. I was using the dining room as an office earlier in the week and ran into some funny characters. Among them: five septagenarian Baptist preachers from the Southern US who speak perfect Swahili, some morning beer drinkers, and a loud-voiced East African Parliament representative who talked our ears off about Tanzanian electoral policy. I also had some food that was decidedly not foreigner-friendly: mchemsho, a sort of groundnut and chicken-liver soup with goat peppers. It really looked disgusting but turned out to be pretty decent, and it reminded me of Ecuadorian food for some reason. Perhaps it was the spice.

I've spent the better part of the past few days in the areas where they grow cotton, or dhahabu nyeupe (white gold), as they call it here. One of my colleagues spends most of his time working directly with the farmers, so I joined him on one of his back-country trips. I went with him to learn how cotton farming works and to conduct a bunch of interviews for my summer work. I've had some good experiences in the villages (I've gone to seven so far, with more to come). The villages (vijiji, lit. 'little towns') are much smaller and more compact than the Wolof and Pulaar villages I spent time at in Senegal -- I'd say that 150-400 people is a typical size here. The town layout is pretty similar in the places I've gone: small village center / office of the ruling political party with a village meeting place, one or two small stalls, lots of small mud-brick homes, and outhouses. Even in cotton country, most houses plant cassava, maize or millet, or raise goats and chickens. Almost none of the villagers have cars, but people ride two or three at a time on rickety bicycles.

The villagers, for the most part, have treated me with a lot of respect. Most of the youth (and even some people my age) greeted me with shikamoo, a greeting normally reserved for older or well-respected people. Each time we attended a town meeting (usually held under a large tree), the village leaders offered me the nicest, tallest chairs to sit on. The first time it happened, I felt awkward and sat on the ground instead, but I think it offended people. After that, I gave in and took the nice chair when I was offered. One of the farmers invited us to his homestead to have a traditional lunch, which was fun. The appetizer was a giant dish of boiled groundnuts that tasted like chickpeas. The main dish was roasted whole chicken (I got extra liver bits -- yay) and ugali. There were definitely some people who laughed at me or were disrespectful, but they were mostly groups of kids who seemed interested by the novelty of a white guy walking around their village. The couple of times they got out of hand, one of the adults chased them away with a switch. Haha!

Today, we met up with some government officials who were filming a sort of reality TV show about life in the cotton fields and the correct cotton-picking method. I picked some cotton, which was fun for, oh, a minute. It's actually pretty fascinating how the plant opens up and already has the fibers fully formed in the cotton boll (which looks oddly like a cotton ball, but still has the seeds in it). Hands-on agricultural experience for the summer: check! Me with some of the villagers in Tegeruka:


My evenings have been relaxing and quiet. After a long day in the villages -- speaking Swahili, meeting new people, giving presentations -- I'm usually pretty exhausted. I've gotten in the routine of eating a light dinner around 8 pm, drinking a bottle of tonic water (quinine, y'all!) and reading or watching DVDs. All very dignified and adult-like. I got through a collection of nine J.D. Salinger short stories the past week. At the rate I read back home, that would have taken me two-three months. I did have a disappointing incident with Lost this week, I'm sad to say. As I mentioned before, I'd really been looking forward to sinking my teeth into the incredible fourth season. Turns out, the disc titled "Lost: Season 4" should have been labelled "Lost: Season 4, excluding the last two thirds of the season." The stupid disc only had 8 episodes on it... which left me stranded at the end of a cliffhanger episode. I have some choice words for the movie vendors back in Dar.

Up next: safari adventures in the Serengeti...

Monday, 1 June 2009

Eelementary, my dear Watson

Sunday night in Bunda, near Lake Victoria. I've covered a bit of ground since I last wrote, so I'm going to do this in two posts. In this entry: an island trip, wildlife spotting, and a flight to cotton country. I've only been able to upload a few photos this time but will add more when I get back to Dar.

On Saturday, I went with my housemates (Katie and Chris, now) to Bongoyo Island, a little place just off the coast from the peninsula. The boat to get there leaves four times a day from the Slipway, perhaps the most touristy place I've come across in Dar. I think you'll agree:



I liked the boat ride out. There's somehow about sitting on the deck of a boat with the wind blowing in your hair that I love. The dhow arrived at Bongoyo after about half an hour, and we took a smaller boat over to the beach. The island itself was a postcard-quality scene: beautiful sand, crystal-clear water, beach huts, palm trees. I went swimming a couple of times and hung out on a woven mat under a palm-thatch umbrella. Here, the island:



In the afternoon, I took a walk around the island. I followed the signs to the Shark Lagoon, which I discovered was shark-free. The tide was out and the water was only up to my calves, so I walked into the lagoon to find shark-related things. I hung around for an hour taking pictures and found some cool tidal-pool creatues. Groups of crabs (each about the size of an apple) were scuttling around on the rocks. I tried to get some close-up shots, but they were scared and hid under a rock. This is the lagoon:



The lagoon's tidal pools were filled with sea urchins (golf ball size and dark purple). I didn't even notice how many there were until I waded out to the far end of the by the deep water. At that point, I realized that I had to tread carefully on the way back to avoid getting a spine in my heel.

The weirdest lagoon dwellers were definitely the gross-looking, black spongy-worms. At first, I thought this one was a poo, but then I saw it moving very slowly. I poked at it with a rock, and it was very soft, like a sponge, but it could still wriggle around like a worm. I left this one alone after I saw it trying to get away from me. Does anyone have a clue what this is?



I have some good videos of the crabs running and the worm-sponge moving around, but I can't upload them from here. In a couple of weeks, though, I'll put them on my youtube account: http://www.youtube.com/StrongGladd.

On the way back, I saw a small tidal pool filled with big eels. I'm not sure how they got there or how they get out.

That was Bongoyo. I flew to Mwanza on Sunday morning. We traveled above the clouds for most of the trip. At 20,000 feet, the only thing I could see was Mount Kilimanjaro rising above the clouds in the distance -- spectacular. When we broke through the cloud cover on the way down, I saw Lake Victoria (Africa's largest lake) and a lot of little villages near Mwanza.

Ones (the Program Manager for the cotton work I'm doing) and I took a bus from Mwanza to Bunda, where we have a cotton office. The road connecting the two towns passes right next to the western edge of Serengeti National Park, probably the most famous reserve for wildlife in Tanzania. Even on the edge of the park, I saw a hundred wildebeast and probably fifty or more zebras, although they were pretty far away. When we slowed down for a bridge, I saw a few groups of chimps standing at the side of the road with the locals as if it was really an everyday thing.

More on Bunda and cotton stuff next time.

Friday, 29 May 2009

A Case of the Fridays

Friday afternoon in Dar. I thought I'd fire off a post before I leave for my webless weekend.

A bunch of us went out last night to a cool event called Dar Alive, a weekly live-music series that takes place at this beautiful beach bar on the bay. I got some pictures but haven't uploaded them yet -- will do later. Last night they had three supposedly-famous jazz musicians from the US and the Netherlands, who performed with local artists in a 9- or 10-artist ensemble, right on the beach. A few local poets read their works (English, not Swahili) while the artists played background music behind them. I'm not really a jazz person, but the whole show was pretty good. Anything's fun when you can drink beers while standing barefoot on the beach.

Dar Alive kinda got me in the mood for Tanzanian music, which, I'm discovering, is excellent. Tanzanian music encompasses a lot of musical styles: traditional, R&B, rap and calypso-ish music. One of my co-workers, Dave, gave me a few hundred songs this morning from his collection, so I'm set for a while. I'll post some favorites next week so you can sample the good stuff.

I have some good plans for the weekend: tomorrow, a few of us are going to Bongoyo, a small beach island just North of Dar (not as far as Zanzibar -- it's more of a local place). On Sunday, I'm flying to Mwanza then driving to Bunda, a small district capital in the cotton-growing zone. I'm going to spend about a week with the farmers learning about their business. I'm looking forward to getting out in the field and seeing how cotton works. We're about five months from harvesting so the farmers will be hard at work.

I hope I can use my time in the North to go on a weekend mini-safari, since the area around Bunda is also home to Tanzania's two most famous national parks: Ngorongoro and Serengeti NP. These reserves are the incredible places you imagine from seeing safaris in the movies / watching the Lion King. They're packed with elephants, giraffes, hippos, wildebeast, and monkeys. Also, some of the herds are apparently in migration season right now, so millions (literally) of herd animals are moving along the Grumeti river. Safaris aren't cheap (I'm not even sure I can make it happen) but if I'm already nearby, it seems sad to miss out on the chance to see giraffes, elephants and other hard-to-spot beasts. I'll pack my white safari-esque hat just in case.

And speaking of rare creatures: the postcard is a dying breed. Too bad, because everyone likes to get them. So, limited-time offer: if you want a postcard from yours truly, write your address in a comment to this post and I'll get on it.

Thursday, 28 May 2009

The Other Other White Meat

Warning: don't read this if you have a weak stomach.

I heard a fascinating news clip on the radio today when I was stuck in traffic. Apparently eleven people were arrested in neighboring Burundi for murdering (or serving as accomplices to murder) a number of albino youth. The murderers were chopping up the albinos into pieces and selling the flesh across the border in Western Tanzania for human consumption (particularly in soups and stews).

Apparently there's a superstition in that part of the region that black albinos (not Caucasians -- whew) are magical, and that eating food prepared with their body parts can give you special powers or make you rich. This article discusses the phenomenon some more: http://www.tressugar.com/1694995. It's a major problem because there are so many areas where people cling to bizarre superstitions, and because there are so many albinos in sub-Saharan Africa. Albinism is incredibly rare among Caucasians, but is more common (1 in 3,000) among black Africans; I saw albinos quite regularly in Senegal and Mali.

The current situation is sad. The people who purchase and eat the albino flesh are obviously ignorant and barbaric, but those who kill the albino children to sell their parts for profit? Surely it doesn't get much worse than that.

The Mamas and the Pappadums

Another gastronomic update from your African correspondent:

I went out last night with some people from work to get Indian food. We went to this place called the Patel Brotherhood. Although the name suggests a shadowy network of Gujurati arms dealers, it's actually a social club for Indian people. There are a few clubs like it throughout the city, since Dar has such a large Indian population. A lot of the Indians here are second- or third-generation immigrants, but other have been there even longer.

The Brotherhood was a huge place in the city center, with a sort of mini-hotel, squash courts, patio seating for 200 people, and a giant screen for watching cricket and European football matches. We bought a so-called visitor's pass for $1, which ain't a bad price. Last night was the Champion's League final, so the place was packed with people speaking real elevator-quality Hindi mixed with English and Swahili. The four of us ordered tons of appetizers, breads, rice, main dishes and beer and it only cost $10 a person. The real prize, however, was the bread. I'm a bit of an Indian baked-goods snob, but I have to say that both the butter naan and pappadum were the best I've ever eaten, hands down. I really want to go back, assuming I can ever find the place again.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Lost in Tanzania

Don't worry, folks. I'm not actually lost in some remote place in the West. I have, however, gotten back into Lost (the TV series).

A couple of years ago, I got really into Lost. I'm not a guy who watches shows every week (I just never find the time), but I do like to watch them back-to-back on DVD. I discovered Lost about a couple of seasons after it first aired. I watched seasons 1 and 2 in a series of red-eyed late night sessions spanning three weeks. There's something addictive about that show that just makes you want to watch... just... one... more. Then, halfway through season 3, I started traveling for work and kinda forgot about the show for a while.

My show and I were reunited this week over lunch. There are a couple of regular DVD-and-music salesmen who walk around Jackie's, our regular lunch spot, trying to drum up business. They carry everything from badly-subtitled classics, to pre-release versions of action movies, to curiously-titled adult titles. Their prices are excellent because the residents of my house have a sort of bulk purchasing agreement with these guys that goes back five months. They even offer a money-back guarantee if the disc is faulty, no questions asked. I guess the treatment is reasonable; we probably account for about 20% of their revenues, since someone in the office buys one each time we go.

I had casually asked about Lost last week and the sellers had copies of seasons 3 and 4 yesterday. I bought both, in anticipation of some (potentially) quiet nights in the northwest of the country (I'm heading up there on Sunday). Of course, I couldn't really resist watching them last night, so I knocked off 5 episodes in season 3 back to back. Just good, addictive fun with me, my laptop and the survivors of flight 815.

I'll probably post again before I take off for Mara and Mwanza. Stay tuned!