Settling Into Life in Dar Es Salaam

Well it’s hard to believe a week has already passed here in Dar Es Salaam although I imagine by the time the internet allows me to post this, this post may be a couple weeks delayed! I’ve been surprised by the temperatures here in the city which is in the southern coastal part of Tanzania, I half expected to be sweltering in heat and dripping in sweat much of the day however I’ve been surprised by the pleasantly warm but not ridiculously hot temperatures. 

CoCo beach - 2 mins walk down the road but we get too hassled to go there to swim or relax

During the peak of the day, from around 11am-1pm, the temps hit around 28-32 degrees max but then cool slightly to a balmy 25-27 degrees for the remainder of the day, normally with a nice breeze which makes it quite nice to walk around in a t-shirt and shorts without melting J. 

Neville, our house pet

Where I’m staying in Dar is considered to be the ‘nice’ area of town, Oyster bay, as it’s called, hosts most of the embassy and UN houses along with many of the top government officials homes and is a popular area for higher budget hotel chains.  

Each house is lined by high walls and guard posts at the front doors to ensure that visibility of the property is not particularly easy from the street.  

A local outdoor shop in Oyster Bay - note the difference from the city

Gardeners are seen outside each house constantly planting new ‘african grass’, a much thicker version of grass to what we’re used to, in an attempt to keep the front lawns looking ‘green’ and there is much distance separating each house with a wide road which runs down the middle which seems surprisingly quiet, except for around 6pm when there is a mass of people who make the journey back from the local beach through towards one of the main roads past our house which has Dahla Dahla’s (minivan type buses which seat 20 but take around 40-50 people!) and Bjaj’s (3 wheeled half covered motored transport used as a form of taxi for short distances) to take them back towards the main city. 

Oyster bay seems to be like a little ‘bubble’ of wealth which seems oddly out of place from the rest of the city.  If you walk around 5-10 minutes in any direction from the house I’m staying at, you enter what could be considered the more ‘usual’ scenery of Dar Es Salaam.  The ‘main streets’ have an interesting combination of ramshackled buildings made varying lengths of wood slats where local tradesmen sell various furnishings, locally grown produce and sometimes eat-in or take away meals cooked in large metal pots on open fires to be given to customers in black plastic bags to take away or metal trays if eating in.  Small old concrete buildings of various colours are interspersed amongst the wooden ‘shacks’ containing various small businesses or ‘corner shop’ type stores and every once in a while, a new, shiny tall building, not dissimilar to any found in the UK/Canada etc is seen which seems oddly out of place amongst the rest of the landscape, usually a hotel or large corporate building catering to international individuals. 

The Dalla Dalla

The Dalla Dallas

The streets themselves never seem to sleep, with men often rushing from person to person, offering ‘great deals’ on souvenirs or furnishings, often African style paintings from the numerous local artists or wooden carvings, necklaces and beaded or massai type sandals on display every 100 meters or so.  Women sit on the sides of the roads offering fresh vegetables and often have corn for sale which they cook on open flames as a ‘take-away’ snack.  The bjaj drivers often follow people who are on foot vying for business along the dusty old tarmacked roads with cars and dahla dahlas speeding by honking at anything that moves with no discernible distinction between which side of the road should be driven on thus making driving a bit of a ‘free for all’ event. Unless you are on one of the main ‘highways’, where the road is divided by a meridian, I get the feeling that the driving rules are rather loosely applied to bigger vehicles getting right of way over anything smaller which is likely to be crushed in the event of a collision (a common occurrence here, particularly for the numerous motorcylists where helmets are rarely, if ever used).

The Night Bjaj with Lizzie and Megan

A normal downtown street in Dar

During the first week here, it became quickly apparent that we should never leave the house carrying anything more than a small amount of money hidden in a bra or a closely attached bum bag (fanny pack for my Canadian friends J ), particularly if you are a ‘mzungo’ (Swahili for a ‘white person’). In my week, 2 of the girls staying at the house had their purses brazenly taken from them in broad daylight by passing vehicles where the men hang outside the window and grab anything they can reach before speeding off and one girl was unfortunately dragged around 200 meters as a thief tried to pull her purse from over her neck but was unable to free it easily.  Just prior to my arrival, a newly hired night security guard at the house waited for all the students to go out then broke many of the room’s lock boxes with an accomplice and made off with hundreds of pounds and valuables.  Surprisingly, or rather stupidly, he remained at the house after his accomplice left, presumably as he thought the goods taken would not be immediately noticed so he could claim ignorance, but was quickly apprehended and taken away by police.

Central Dar

  

Despite the high level of street crime in the form of thieving, the majority of Tanzanians take thieving very seriously and often take punishment into their own hands, observed first hand on our first trip to a local restaurant.  A young thief attempted to pickpocket money at the outdoor restaurant where we were eating and was quickly set upon by restaurant staff, as many as 10 staff members beating the thief as they dragged him off the premises, presumably to continue punishment away from view of the customers.  I’ve been told that this type of crime has become more and more common in the area where I’m staying as criminals have cottoned on to the fact that Oyster Bay houses mainly affluent ‘Mzungo’s’ where they are more likely to get more money from a robbery then elsewhere in the city.  As much as this type of crime is upsetting, I can’t help but feel some sadness for those committing the crimes as they are often young, poor unemployed men with little or no means of supporting themselves or their families.  I find myself wondering if I were in their position, starving and having to watch my children go hungry & crying from starvation, what extent I would go to in order to put food on the table.

The largest Orphanage in Dar (To be discussed more in another post

My first trip into town, 3 days after I arrived to reach the hospital where I would be spending the coming 5 weeks, was quite an experience in itself.  From the house I am staying in, there is a 15-20 minute walk along dusty roads to a ‘main’ road which travels towards the centre of town.  Myself, plus 4 other medics and nursing students waited for our ‘dahla dahla’ to pull up at the bus stop whilst being approached by various ‘punters’ begging us to buy trinkets for sale and bjaj drivers offering ‘good price’ fares to the city (which we were told to avoid as they are known to use both the roads, sidewalks/pavements and grassy verges to reach their destination as quickly as possible).  As our dahla dahla pulled up, it resembled something you would expect of a clown car, with several men hanging out the door and 40 people crammed into what should fit maybe 20 people at a normal ‘push’.  Given that the dahla dahla stopped in front of us, we assumed that people must be getting off to have space to fit us in, however this quickly proved not to be the case.  The ‘money man’ who takes payment for the driver and gets you onto the bus, quickly ushered us to get on the bus, pushing people as fast as he could to the back of the bus to the point where sardines would have had more room than we did!  The ride couldn’t pass fast enough with my face was firmly planted in the armpit of a local man who clearly didn’t believe in deodorant  as we were jostled back and forth by the dahla dahla, honking it’s way through the traffic towards town.  As we disembarked at the entrance to the hospital, I tried to manage a smile at the man who’s armpit had been my headrest for the past 40 minutes whilst subtly reaching for the alcohol gel in my bum bag.  I have a feeling the buckets of alcohol gel I brought with me to Tanzania will be well used!

6 is a normal number for a taxi right? (With Megan, Lizzie, Me and Abbie - Simon +1 in the front)

KARIBOO (WELCOME) Day 1

KARIBOO! (Welcome in Swahili!)

Day 1

Waiting in Heathrow at 3am waiting to check in almost 80Kg's of baggage, vacuum packed into 2 large suitcases + 3 smaller carry-on style suitcases, I came to the conclusion that if I EVER travel to Africa in the future bearing medical supplies, I will send them ahead of me in the mail!! My arm muscles (or lack thereof) were throbbing as I lifted, and tried to pretend as though my 2 heavily overstuffed carry-on bags were light as feathers in a pathetic attempt to avoid having them weighed by the kind desk agent who looked decidedly concerned as I heaved and pulled my way to his desk with all my luggage.  Luckily, once I showed him a letter from his airline which had kindly waived my excess luggage as much of it was medical supplies to be given to the hospital I’m volunteering at, he was bending over backwards to help me check in all the luggage.

After a stop-over in Zurich, I slept much of the way through to Nairobi where we made a quick pit stop to drop off a majority of the passengers before the flight moved on to Dar Es Salaam.  The mood on the plane after leaving Nairobi seemed somewhat like a social gathering, I’ve never seen anything like it on a flight, everyone was out of their seats standing in the isles talking to other passengers and the stewardesses, who had by this time changed into more ‘casual’ clothing, came down the isles bearing alcoholic beverages and pop on trays which were handed out to all the passengers and the stewardesses then joined in with the conversations as we continued on our 1.5hr journey to Dar.  The relaxed, friendly and casual atmosphere was probably a good indication of what was to come upon arrival in Dar Es Salaam!

After landing in Dar, we were shuffled into a ‘holding’ area where we had our pictures taken and went through the process of obtaining our visitor’s visas which was quite an amusing process. Two passengers ahead of me spoke only French and were struggling with authorities to understand their questions (which, in fairness, was difficult even for English speakers due to questions being posed in thick Swahili/broken English) so I offered to interpret which was ended up being a comical mix of French/English and a multitude of hand gestures to get some points across as some of the French sayings just don’t translate very well!  After they had finished their process, I was about to proceed with my visa when I was tapped on the shoulder by the same security chap I had just tried to help who said ‘you don’t happen to speak Italian??’…. After managing to fumble through broken Italian to translate for the gentleman who didn’t speak a word of English besides ‘hello’, he was granted his visa, which was a slight relief as I’m sure at one point I confused the word for girlfriend with the Italian for prostitute…luckily I was corrected by the Italian chap before I really put my foot in it for him! By the time I finally got to complete my visa, I think the security man was happy enough for the previous help that he didn’t even bother asking any questions and simply approved the visa.  With that, I entered into Dar Es Salaam to begin my new adventure J!

My lovely contact from ‘Work the World’ (the organisation who helped organise my elective) met me as I came out of the gate with a big smile, and introduced himself as Mark, although it has to be said, he’s the spitting image of Will.I.Am so I still half expected him to break out into song at any minute.  He accompanied me by taxi through the bustling streets of Dar which seemed so calm and picturesque by nightfall albeit there was not much, other than palm trees and some tall buildings that I could make out in the dark.  We passed a large billboard which was lit up advertising the tv show Glee, which made me do a double take, it wasn’t the first thing I imagined seeing on a giant billboard on the side of a road filled with small bjaj’s (3 wheeled covered motor type vehicles which can take up to 3 people comfortably, however normally filled with 4-6, reminding me of circus clown cars!!) and Dala Dala’s (small 10 seater van/buses which normally cram in 30-40 people or more like sardines – and you may end up with a random Tanzanian using your lap as a seat!!).  The taxi scurried through the streets towards Oyster bay, the ‘wealthy suburb’ area I where I would be living for the coming 6 weeks and after a 40 minute journey, we turned into what looked to be a very ‘posh’ road with houses which could easily cost upwards of £5-10 million in the UK.  We pulled up to a front gate, where we were greeted by one of the night security guards who opened the gate, allowing us entry into the organisation named  ‘Dar House’. 

Front of the Dar House the night I arrived

My first impressions of the house were of surprise, I guess I had prepared myself to be living ‘rough’ for the 6 weeks here, however from the outside, with manicured lawns and palm trees lining the walk ways up to the ‘main house’ which was a large, extended bungalow with a big covered outside sitting area with several sofas looking out at the front garden, I realised I had possibly underestimated my accommodation.  Marc took me on a brief tour of the large kitchen with several fridges filled with some ‘left over’ food cooked by our chef Raheema, who apparently has a reputation for cooking amazing Tanzanian/Arabic style cuisine for dinners during the weekdays, a big dining room area at the front of the house with 4 large wide wooden tables which could accommodate up to 45 people (which reminded me of a relatively small pseudo-cafeteria), and a larder filled with various dried goods including UHD milk and a strangely large number of boxes of Coco pops, apparently a popular breakfast choice here.  He then took me around the 4 bedrooms attached to the main house, all of which had 6 bunk-beds with a shared on-suite bathroom for 6 including a small shower and toilet.  Following Marc out the back of the house, another smaller ‘bungalow-style’ building was a 30 second walk away which had 5 further rooms, 4 of which again had 6 bunk-beds and then I was shown to my room.  

My Room (Bottom Bunk)

I was relieved to see that although it was only a quarter the size of the other rooms,  it was the only room with only 3 beds, two of which are bunk-beds, and seemed much more ‘homey’ than the other rooms. 

The Bathroom - Pretty basic - things grow in here :o

Just outside ‘my’ bedroom through a little path to the left, was a lovely large swimming pool with a small pool bar off the side and a mass of sun loungers dotted around the pool. 

The Dar House Pool at Night

I have a feeling the pool and I are going to become good friends!

I was greeted upon my way back through the house by a group of around 15 young girls, who introduced themselves as 2^nd year nursing students from Manchester, all of whom seemed very friendly and welcoming, which is always a lovely way to arrive at a new accommodation.  Marc, our bubbly 20 something host who’d accompanied me from the airport and chatting away in excellent English, proceeded to show me every security feature of the houses, which included panic alarms in every room, the security office at the front gate where our security guards stayed and all the fire alarms and fire extinguishers dotted around the place plus electronic door locking systems on the main house.  I kind of got the impression that security was a pressing issue by this point…it wasn’t for a few days later that I realised why (to be added in a later post).  Following a quick debriefing, I was left to explore the property and go to my room to unpack.  

Ned, my room-mate

Given that it was around 11:30pm by this time, and I’d been travelling for over 22hrs from the time I left Norwich, I was ready to crawl under my mosquito net and hit the hay! 

The temperature in the evening was lovely, around 22-24 degrees with a warm gentle wind meaning that I was still comfortable in the sweater I’d worn across but could equally have been wearing a t-shirt and still felt quite warm.  I was half expecting to be hit by a sticky hot heat getting off the plane, despite the sun having set at 6:00pm, so was pleasantly surprised that the temperatures were more than bearable!  There are high ceiling fans in every room which run 24hrs a day which doesn’t really affect the temperature but allows for fresh circulating air and is quite a calming sound at night when trying to lull off to sleep. 

The Front 'veranda'

I nearly suffocated as I applied a heavy spray of 50% deet on every exposed part of my body, then crawled under my mosquito net into my ‘camp style’ bottom bunk, ensuring that I tucked the mosquito net thoroughly around the bed, and began fell asleep with a big smile on my face as I listened to crickets chirping away outside, having finally arrived in a country I’d dreamed about coming to for many years.  As I started to doze off, I heard a distinct buzzing and a sharp pinch on my shoulder. I slapping my shoulder, killing what was likely to be the first of many mosquitoes but couldn’t help grinning, I felt as though I’d just had my first initiation into Tanzania.

Front Side view of Main house (right), front gardens (left) and Security Gate (Left)