In Africa

Arrival ; The new Adventure Begins

I changed planes in Amsterdam to catch the KLM flight to Kilimanjaro and Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, the latter my final destination. The flight was long; eight or nine hours, with a stop at Kilimanjaro, then on, after an hour lay-over to deplane and reload passengers, another forty minutes to Dar es Salaam. It required only a quick look at the obvious make-up and dress of the passengers to determine that they were not locals but primarily western tourists who would be getting off in Kilimanjaro for trips to Lake Victoria, the Serengeti and the grand mountain itself; Kilimanjaro.

Dar Es Salaam

In Kilimanjaro, the plane nearly emptied, then refilled with those who would stay aboard while we got off in Dar es Salaam. The plane makes a daily round trip from Amsterdam to Tanzania. Finally after two days of travel, the plane floated down and onto the runway at Dar es Salaam. It was already late and dark. Nothing to be seen. I followed the jet way to the stairs, then down and around bland hallways to the ubiquitous passport control hall of a typical developing world airport. Passport control is never much fun, with the long lines and impatient travelers, but the developing world always offers a less opulent environment for the process. Dull, drab, in need of paint or at least a good cleaning; I recognized this place though I have never been to Tanzania.

Downtown Dar es Salaam

The process was typically almost trouble free but not anything that patience and careful, albeit repeated, explanation couldn’t resolve. I always over-pack and this was no exception. I inevitably regret it when I wrestle the luggage from the belt. Customs was totally uneventful and as the frosted glass doors parted I found myself facing the row of agents two-deep behind the half-wall partition, each holding a paper or cardboard sign with a name on it. Having arranged a driver beforehand, I carefully studied the anxious faces, well actually their signs, until I found one with my name on it.

We greeted each other. Clement already knew where I was going. The drive was not long. “Have you ever been to Tanzania before?”

“No.”

“First time in Africa?”

“Yes, except for a one day trip to Morocco.” My mind paused to recall that one and only trip to the continent. It was a one day trip from Gibraltar to Tangier. Ferry over; tour of the city by bus; stop at the Kasbah to shop and have lunch, then and back on the ferry. That was so many years ago.

We pulled under the portico of the hotel. It was late, I was tired. I checked in, found my room, and, although my body was on some other time left far behind by jet speed travel, I went immediately to sleep.

Weaver birds nests in front of the portico at the Southern Sun Hotel

My meeting Monday was in the afternoon, allowing me to rest without worrying about early morning business things. I rose relatively early, all things considered, and after getting breakfast and acclimating, I decided a stroll to the nearest supermarket would give me a flavor for the local environment. The flora reminded me of home in Florida; mangos, bananas, papayas, citrus, coconut palms, traveler palms, areca palms, queen palms, silver palms, buccaneer palms, royal Poinciana, plumeria (frangipani), and bougainvillea – lots and lots of bougainvillea. Not seven degrees below the equator, the tropical flavor was to be expected. In other respects, the place reminded me a bit of Bangladesh, but the differences are striking – traffic here is horrid but not as bad a Dhaka, no rickshaws in Dar es Salaam, - even on a short walk it was clear I was in Africa, a place I have never been. And so a new adventure had begun.

Downtown Dar es Salaam

That was in October and my initial experiences, as always, created an impression and image of this place that would become my home for three years. That image, and that impression, have not changed with the intervening time, they have only been enriched.  As we meet new friends, local and expat, as we begin to find our way from place to place, as we learn more words in the local language - Swahili, as we see more things, eat more food, visit more shops, listen to more advice, explanations and stories, we become further embedded in this culture of which before now we had only read.

Peacocks roam freely in the downtown area, especially in the diplomatic/government areas. This one is on the fence seperating the Southern Sun Hotel from the Botnical Garden

Buried in the history of Africa are the very origins of man and his evolution to who we are today. Wandering through the dusty streets of the largest city in Tanzania, Dar es Salaam, none of that is apparent. What is apparent are the remnants of a colonial past dating to the turn of the nineteenth century. Ten years after Doctor Livingstone visited this country, found the wrong lake and was presumed lost forever, Tanganyika became a German colony. After forty years, including twenty years of wars with African tribes, the country was taken from the Germans and given to the British after World War I. The romantic in us wants to believe that Bogie and Hepburn on the African Queen in the epic movie of the same name had something to do with that transition. It is the British influence, however, that dominates the architecture, language, and adopted culture of the city.

Azania Front Lutheran Church in Downtown Dar es Salaam

In Dar es Salaam, the past, even as short as it is, is tucked around the feet of the large steel, concrete, and glass structures growing rapidly across the skyline. It is a small part old, a large part new, like many of the world’s major cities. Swirling around and through the streets of Dar es Salaam with its colonial influence and modern ambitions are the remnants and reminders of an Africa of our visions, of the television and movies, an Africa that we struggle to pull up from the dust of an existence that belies all that the modern world is. The streets have few sidewalks and the dirt paths along them turn to mud in the rains and dust in the heat, not unlike the great savanna to the west of the city. Among the suits and ties of a modern business center, a woman in a sarong walks with a basket adroitly balanced on her head. One does not have to look far to see poverty, and an excursion outside of the city will expose an Africa that Dr. Livingstone saw on his arrival.

Woman carrying her wares along busy downtown street

But Dar is where I find myself for the coming weeks and months. It is a learning experience. Sometimes a bit disconcerting, but always intriguing as new visions, new people and a new culture begin to unfold before our eyes then subtly and inescapably envelop us.

Until the next connection, Dan