In Africa XI

XI

Rick comes to Dar; Another trip to Mikumi; Roadside Vendors; Tingatinga

Our oldest son Rick is doing his fieldwork for a Doctorate from the University of Illinois. He worked for six months in South Africa and is currently in Malawi for a second six months. Over a weekend, which happened to coincide with my 65th birthday, Rick came to Dar es Salaam to participate in a symposium at the University of Dar es Salaam. It was good seeing him. The event was covered in the Daily News newspaper as well. It is always great to see you child’s name in print for accomplishments well deserved.

View on road to Police College

He arrived by bus with a friend from Malawi on a Sunday night. He was supposed to arrive at five or six in the evening but a breakdown a few hours outside of Mbeya delayed his arrival until after ten at night. The busses from the regions come to the Ubungo bus terminal on the Morogoro Road on the outskirts of town; actually near the University of Dar es Salaam. I asked Mshamu to come to drive since I knew the traffic would be too much for me.

At theCollege. My Rav 4

The Ubungo bus terminal is an old facility soon to be replaced with a modern terminal area with pavement and well-marked sections identifying which busses will arrive and depart from the designated areas. The current terminal is a large unpaved parking area behind a long stretch of run-down ticket offices beside the Morogoro Road, which is under massive reconstruction. The bus parking area is a free-for-all of busses, cars and taxis, intermingled with vendors. At night there are a scant few lights illuminating the area.

The mountain across the river. A Village is at its peak.
A portion of the dam is at left

There are specific areas for buses from the various towns to park, but they are not marked and if you are not familiar, you are, as we were, left to … well, fend for yourself. We kept in contact via telephone with Rick to know his approximate location. We knew his bus line. When he announced that he was turning into the lot, we saw his bus … or what we thought was his bus. We followed it to the very back of the lot and waited for Rick. After the very last passenger stepped off the bus it was clear that he was not on that bus. We finally made telephone connection asked each other where we were. It was impossible to know or describe anything that was distinctive in the lot of a hundred buses or so and thousands of travelers coming and going.

The town at the base

Mshamu began a systematic search of the large lot. We drove down one lane and up the next – simpler in the description than in the execution. Rick was by a light next to some vendors, not a very narrowing depiction. As we were trying to navigate through a snarl of cars and people, we heard a bang on the car; Rick had found us.

Tomato sellers. Charcoal in the distance in white bags.

The week past was busy with a five-day workshop in Dar es Salaam conducted by a local colleague working on the project, and for me, a second trip to the Police College near Mikumi. The trip is long – a six to eight hour drive – but it is good to see the countryside and experience the environmental and geographic diversity that Tanzania has to offer.

"Canvas' " being made ready

The weather at the police College, which sits atop a mountain in south-central Tanzania, was cool and the air was clean. My “cold” seemed to disappear the three days I was there. The trip was made more interesting by virtue of a power outage at the College. This might be expected but for the fact that the Police College is situated on a site formerly owned by the Tanzanian Power company at the site of a dam and hydroelectric power generating facility. The area is also a game preserve and therefor not developed. A late night storm prior to our arrival knocked a tree over a power line and the College was without power for two days. I was provided a generator to facilitate my Power Point presentation.

Tingatinga shops

The remoteness of the Police College is such that currently there is no mobile phone connectivity and, as a result of the power outage, they had no Internet. On Thursday afternoon, Mshamu and I began the twelve-kilometer drive down the mountain to the town that sits across the one lane bridge at the base of the mountain. Before we left the Police College premises, just past the first of the two gates, the Police College Doctor with white smock over Police Uniform, flagged us down. There was an older woman who needed to be taken to the hospital, or at least to the town below where she could take a bus.

There are a few people living near and around the Police College, their status is still uncertain to me. Across the river on the next mountain there is a village that uses the road to the Police College as their access to town. They travel on foot down their mountain, across the river and up to the Police College access road. The village is a farming community where they grow bananas, cassavas, potatoes, beans, rice and other crops. The people can be seen several days each week beside the road waiting for a bus or a car to transport them and their goods to the town where their produce is sold.

We did not know from where the woman came, but the doctor was insistent that she needed treatment at a hospital. We of course agreed to drive her down – along with her daughter (presumably) and two gentlemen whose relationship to her I am totally uncertain. Three of them used the back seat of my Toyota Rav 4 while one young man climbed into the back luggage area. The road winds through the forest and down the mountain, interspersed periodically with baboons looking for a handout. It is about fifteen minutes or more for the twelve kilometers. We left the woman and her family at the buss stop. I do hope all turned out well for her.

They paint on any object. For sale inside.

Artist working on crocodiles

Mshamu, as is usual with Tanzanians living in cities like Dar es Salaam, wanted again to bring back onions, tomatoes and rice from the “Regions” as those items are cheaper outside of the city. As we had done this on our first trip, we stopped; first in Mikumi to get onions, then on the Morogoro side of the Mikumi National Park where the tomato selling women work the roadside together with the charcoal sellers. The process, like so many things here, is more chaos than order; each woman trying to gain the sale, but all with the same produce at the same price.

These elephants are nearly finished.

Sharon wanted a second hand woven basket and another woven carpet. For these items we stopped near Morogoro at the roadside woven basket and carpet sellers. We stopped at the same place we had on our prior trip since the man with a bad leg and limp gave us such a reasonable price. We were not disappointed. We dealt with his mother this trip, but the prices were the same. It is an interesting phenomenon of human nature that we are offended by those who try to take advantage of a situation. Even at the inflated Mzungu (white person) prices, the cost is minimal, but we just do not like those who will take advantage of our perceived wealth and lack of local knowledge. The woman and her handicapped son have been more than fair and thus get our business.

Artists at work

Tingatinga (also spelt Tinga-tinga or Tinga Tinga) is a painting style that developed in the second half of the 20th century in the Oyster Bay area in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and later spread to most of East Africa. Tingatinga paintings are one of the most widely represented forms of tourist-oriented art in Tanzania, Kenya and neighboring countries. The genre is named after its founder, Tanzanian painter Edward Said Tingatinga.

Wheel covers near the road

Near our home and in the area where the painting style began, in Oysrerbay, there is a bazaar featuring not only numerous Tingatinga paintings on all types of media, but also the artists who actually do the paintings. It is in fact the Tingatinga Arts Cooperative Society formed by the relatives and followers of Tngatinga himself. While the Tingatinga Arts Cooperative Society is usually recognized as the most authoritative representative of the Tingatinga heritage only a small fraction of Tingatinga artists are directly linked to this society. The style can be found in everywhere in Tanzania and the East African region. The benefit to us of having this resource so close is that we can have paintings done to order, such as the cups we had painted or the wheel cover for our spare tire. It is not only fun but also interesting and educational to watch these artists ply their craft. They are truly talented.

We had plain white cups

Our wheel cover

Everything is negotiable here among the Tanzanians; art, supplies, foodstuffs, everything. Not always so with those of different ethnic backgrounds. I have said often in this series that this is a place of contrasts. It truly is. So much talent among so many. So much poverty among so many. So much disparity between the haves and those who have not. Among many of the Westerners, there is a response to this, seldom spoken but nonetheless there; we select one or two locals for whom we have respect and affection, and try, in our short time here, to bring them to a higher standard of living. I suppose it is guilt and compassion all intertwined. If it does nothing, it makes us feel better.

Until Next Connection,
Dan