Spices and beaches

I had decided to take a short trip over to Zanzibar before leaving. I take the ferry from Dar es Salaam to Stone Town (avoiding being lured into paying for the tickets at a bogus booth rather than at the official ferry office).

There’s a mix of people travelling – families going visiting, and more backpackers than I’ve probably seen in the entire time I’ve been here,  as well as women carrying chickens in shopping baskets. Sometimes they try to escape (the chickens, not the women).

As we near Stone Town, with its fishing boats bobbing in the water and its exotic-looking old buildings, it seems like a contrast to the relative modernity of Dar.

Zanzibar feels quite different to mainland Tanzania, with a stronger Arabian influence. Some shop signs and newspapers are in Arabic, and nearly all of the women and girls I see have their hair covered. The hotel I’m staying in is a former Arabian palace and (like many others places) doesn’t serve alcohol.

Zanzibar is famous for the spices grown here and so I go on a ‘spice tour’ to one of the spice farms. It’s not the sort of farm that has crops grown in rows, divided by fences.

Instead, it consists of a wood, with dirt paths winding through, and mud houses with women sitting outside in a group, washing clothes, while the spices seem to grow in clumps here and there. We see (and smell and taste) lots of different growing spices – cinnamon, pepper, vanilla, cloves, turmeric, ginger, nutmeg/mace and lemongrass.

Next we stop for lunch, on mats on the ground under a thatched roof in a small village. Later we head to a peaceful beach, with fishing boats at one end and a rocky outcrop at the other. Overlooking the beach is an outdoor bar area, with monkeys in the treetops above.

On the way back to Stone Town we find a snake in our minibus – yikes! – but it seems to slither away.

At night we have dinner at one of the more touristy places – right on the waterfront with an extensive food and cocktail menu. The food I’ve had in Zanzibar has been good - I’ve had some version of fish in a coconut curry three times here now.

Next morning I head back over the water to Dar.

Things to do in Dar

Being in the city means that there’s plenty to do here. Where I live is good for shopping as there are lots of (mostly tiny) shops / wooden stalls.  Sometimes the sellers lay their goods out on a cloth on the ground, or, in the case of clothes, hang them from the trees.

There are also some supermarkets, the larger ones being not unlike those in the UK, and with a fairly wide selection, including some goods imported from Europe (although these tend to be pretty expensive). If you go into a shop already carrying a plastic bag of shopping, you usually have to leave it at the front of the shop and collect it again when you’re finished. There are some small shopping centres too, particularly in the parts of the city where most of the expats live, and a larger one towards the outskirts of the city with a few huge stores.

There are even a couple of gyms nearby which have things like yoga and aerobics classes. I wasn’t expecting to have any use for a gym kit here, and so I’ve ended up wearing a pair of walking shoes, my oldest t-shirt and a pair of borrowed shorts at the gym (and looking like a twit). Exercising in these temperatures can be hard going (although apparently doing yoga in intense heat is the latest craze).

There are quite a few cafes, restaurants, bars (including an ‘Irish’ pub and ‘English’ pub) and nightclubs, and some places have live music.  One time, when a band was playing (with the audience sitting on the floor in front of them), two women suddenly leapt up from the crowd and started dancing in front of the band. More people joined them and they all seemed really good at it. The dancing involved high-speed hip movements and it looked like there was some kind of dance-off going on. By the end of the night the stage area was full of people dancing.

Ngorongoro

We leave the Serengeti and pass by the Oldupai Gorge, where the fossilised remains of some of the earliest forms of humans have been found.

That night, we camp on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater, a huge crater left by the collapse of a volcano, and now covered in grassland, woods and lakes, and full of wildlife.

As darkness falls, some zebras wander through the camp site.

We get up early next morning to descend into the crater, and it’s freezing! My packing list for Africa should have included a woolly hat.

As well as many of the animals we saw on the Serengeti, we also see a huge flock of flamingos, lined up as if in a chorus, and buffalo, and jackals. And even, from a distance, a rhino.

Later, as we all head off again, I feel really glad I went on this trip. It’s definitely been the highlight of my stay here.

Sunrise over the Serengeti

In the early morning, the Serengeti sky is a very light blue, and the grass is a pale yellow-green, as if the colours are only just beginning to seep into the day. The grassland stretches out around us, punctuated by trees and bushes, and framed by mountains. The air is cool and fresh and the early morning feels peaceful.

At first sight the landscape seems empty but before long we see elephants, some ambling alone, others in herds.

Again we spot hyenas, snouts in a carcass.

And a troop of curious baboons, including babies.

Herds of antelopes, gazelles and zebras (possibly my favourite) graze all around, while giraffes browse among the trees.

A warthog family bustles through the long grass, looking officious, tails sticking up like antenna.

Hippos lie in their muddy baths.

We also see herons, roller birds and eagles.

And plenty of lions, skulking in the grass, or snoozing in trees. A couple of lions lie lazily in the sunshine, stretched out on their backs, while beside them lies what looks like a black and white striped rug.

Then we head to see part of the Great Migration – an enormous herd of wildebeest, mingled with zebras, gazelles and others. The migrating herd follows the rains (which bring fresh pasture) and in a few months’ time will tramp north to Kenya once the Serengeti’s grass is exhausted.

Later we see some wildebeest graze beneath a tree, seemingly completely unaware that just above their heads, a leopard waits on a tree branch.

As we leave the vast Serengeti plains, we all feel incredibly lucky to have seen so much.

The road North

I hadn’t been looking forward to the ten-hour bus journey to Arusha in the north of the country, but in fact it was pretty comfortable. As one of the country’s main arterial routes, the road is sealed the whole way, although virtually all of it single carriageway. 

It was my first time outside of Dar es Salaam, and the rural landscape was a dramatic contrast. In the villages were tiny churches and mosques, and houses made of mud with thatched roofs, or made of concrete with corrugated iron roofs. Many of the shops were small wooden shacks (one had a sign ‘International Hair Cuts’). It was great to see a different side to Tanzania, particularly as the majority of the population live in rural areas.

As we reached the northern towns, it felt like we were entering a different country. The air is fresh and crisp, and the countryside lush and cultivated. Many of the buildings are painted in pastel shades of blue, pink, or green, and there is a neatness and cleanness, compared to the city. Not sure why, but for some reason it made me think of Britain in the 1960s.

We are going on a camping trip to the northern national parks, and meet the rest of our group (sixteen of us in all) at a campsite called Snake - yes, Snake - Park. Luckily I didn’t see any snakes.

Next morning we head out in our jeeps, passing by the edge of the Great Rift Valley on the way. It’s the rainy season (although fortunately not raining at the moment) and so the rolling hills are green, with cattle and goats grazing, and crops growing from the rich red soil.  Now and then baboons or zebras stroll across the road.

The sealed road ends and the dirt track begins as we enter the Ngorongoro conservation area. We pass through forests and stop for a picnic, surrounded by Marabou storks, huge birds with a 3m wingspan.

As we leave the forest area, and head for the grassy plains with their grazing herds, it could almost be Scotland:

Well, almost, except for the Maasai, in their distinctive red and purple robes.  And except for the Maasai settlements, round mud houses with straw roofs, set out in a circle.

  

And then there’s the zebra herds grazing alongside the Maasai's cattle.

From then we pass through a vast flat, dry plain, meeting gazelles and ostriches on the way, and later spying a leopard and some hyenas.  The sheer scale of the place is amazing, like something out of a fantasy world.

We camp at an unfenced campsite (animals could wander through at any time), and settle down to sleep on the Serengeti.

The daily grind...

The office I’m based in is pretty modern – everyone has computers, there’s  internet access most of the day, air conditioning, a water cooler, plus there’s a generator to deal with the (very frequent) power cuts. Other offices in the city which don’t have a generator might only have electricity some days in the week. Outside of the city, you might get no electricity at all. I honestly can’t remember the last time I experienced a power cut at home in Scotland.

The charity manager is an expat, there’s an English volunteer, and the rest of the staff are Tanzanian. Part of my role was to train the administrator, but when I got there I discovered that she had stopped working at the organisation a few days before I arrived!

The city centre banks are generally quite modern, both inside and out, almost like UK banks.  At one bank the queue for the tellers was about fifty people long, although somehow we managed to go straight to the manager’s office.

Just near the office are some small cafes, artists’ stalls, and a row of shops, including a small supermarket. Some days I bring in something to eat, others I get something from the supermarket, and other days I go to one of the cafes. Food at the cafes is quite cheap, and your food comes on a single dish divided up into different sections for rice, sauce, vegetables (such as spinach or cabbage), and meat/chicken/beans, along with a spoon to eat it all with.  Rice and beans (wali maharage) is probably one of the most common dishes you find. Chips (chipsi – this Swahili is easy!) are also popular, and in particular chipsi mayai – a chip omelette. I’m not yet convinced, but I’ll give it a try some time.

Sometimes a fruit seller comes to the office and we buy bananas, pears, or mangoes. The mangoes especially are delicious and I realise I’ve never actually eaten a fully ripe mango before now.

My neighbourhood and around

At work, we went on an errand that involved driving through the plush suburbs – large houses set in beautiful gardens, all behind walls and security gates, and with small shopping centres nearby. Virtually next door to these luxurious places though are people living in the most basic conditions.

It seems like, despite the high cost of fuel, quite a few of the expat population drive everywhere (mainly in 4x4s, although that could because most of the roads are untarmacked, some with massive potholes).

At the moment I live close enough to walk to work, while other volunteers in the neighbourhood tend to walk, cycle or take the bus.  So far I’ve rarely seen other white people walking. (I think) that I don’t attract too much attention from the locals, although still more than would be the case in Glasgow! It seems like everyone here walks really slowly, but now I know why – you can start off walking briskly, but by the time you realise you’re getting really hot, it’s too late. After dark (and it can get dark quite quickly), though, take a taxi.

I live just off a main road, which is lined with lots of tiny shops, bigger places like a bank and a garage, and houses. Hardly any pavements, just verges of sand/dirt you pick your way through. There are a few bars and restaurants around too. So far the only one I’ve been to is an Ethiopian restaurant, hidden down a labyrinth of dark alleys, where five of us shared a huge kind of pancake on which was placed mounds of different types of lentils, and you eat the whole lot (lentils scooped up with a piece of pancake) with your hand.

I’ve just moved to a shared flat (a bit like being a student again) just across the road from the hotel I was in. It’s a nice place, but unfortunately the room is only free for a few weeks.  All around are ordinary houses, and quite a few people keep chickens, so you do get woken at dawn to the sound of cockcrows.  Even earlier you can sometimes hear the Muslim call to prayer.

The view from my flat:

Arriving in Dar

I was travelling to Dar es Salaam in Tanzania to work as a finance volunteer with a charity for three months. I wanted to do something different for a short while and it seemed like now was a good time to do it. 

I landed safely after a long overnight flight and felt slightly nervous as I looked around for my taxi at Arrivals, although in fact everything felt pretty calm and civilised.  Then followed the slow trip to the city at rush hour – past bus stops that seemed to stretch forever, women carrying water bottles on their heads, and cyclists carrying trays of eggs stacked about eight trays high.  The main roads seemed well-maintained but a lot of the side roads were dirt tracks.

Also visited the Immigration Office where everything seemed pretty reasonable – none of the long queues and cryptic responses I had been led to expect.  At the end of the day I went with some of my colleagues and their friends to an area with bars, restaurants and shops by the ocean, at the fancy end of town, which felt much like the kind of place you might find at a beach resort in Europe – it was good, but I could hardly keep my eyes open after my overnight flight.  So far, things have felt more familiar than alien.

I was staying in a hotel for the first while until my accommodation was organised. It was simple, but did have running water, electricity, and air conditioning.

Several times over the first few days I felt homesick (when I called home I was really emotional) and wondered if I had made a huge mistake by embarking on this project.  I wondered if I would need to mark off each day in a calendar to get me through.

The charity’s office is close by (less than a mile) but I wasn’t sure of the way so the first day at work I took a bajaj – a tiny three-wheeled vehicle, with no doors, which slipped between the buses, hurtled round corners, overtook by driving on the verges and in between roadside stalls, all at top speed.  Cheaper than a taxi, but I don’t think I’ll travel in one along the dual carriageway!

I am finding the local people a little bit reserved, although they can become friendlier once you get talking to them.  Quite a few people greet you in the street as you pass by.

Towards the end of the week, there were a number of colleagues from London visiting. On the third night we went first for drinks at the Yacht Club and then on to a posh Japanese restaurant, where the chefs did tricks with the food before cooking it, all in front of the diners.  Not what I expected to be doing in my first week! But it was good as I was occupied most of the week and distracted from thinking about being homesick.  The next night a few of us went to a shoreside bar/restaurant for a few drinks, pizza and chat.  It was a good end to the first working week.

The view from the Yacht Club...

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