As my taxi driver wove haphazardly in and out of trucks and cars on the way to the Dar airport, I only had one thing on my mind: ‘Please let my flight to Zanzibar be on time.’ Nevermind that we had just narrowly missed a giant pothole or that a bus had pulled out in front of us without warning, giving my driver mere seconds to quickly change lanes. I tried to zone out and not concentrate on the chaotic scene around me, keeping my fingers crossed that the road to the airport was not completed submerged. Earlier that week, many parts of Dar experienced severe flooding due to several days of non-stop rain. While my area of town fortunately did not flood, houses and entire communities on the outskirts of Dar were completely washed out, leaving many people homeless for several days. Strangely enough, December and January mark the beginning of the dry season in Tanzania, and historically there has been little rain during the summer months here. With the flooding as an ominous reminder of the consequences of heavy rainfall, I can only imagine what the long rain season will be like.
The road to the hospital during the second day of rains
Fortunately, the road to the airport was fine and I arrived to see that my flight was on time. Half an hour later, I was in another taxi on the way back to Stone Town. Remembering the day of my arrival in November- how confused and nervous I felt venturing into a town where I knew practically no one- I felt as ease with how familiar Stone Town now felt to me. Everything that I had come to associate with it- the sweet smell of figs mixed with the aroma of spices emanating from the market stalls, the ethereal call to prayer, the simplicity of life, and the almost unnaturally gorgeous sunsets- reminded me of just how comfortable I had gotten in the time that I had been there.
I spent the entirety of my first day doing some last minute Christmas shopping. What started as a quick trip to the market turned into an all-day endeavor, as I searched practically every shop in Stone Town for something unique amongst endless shelves of carved wooden lions and beaded bracelets. After several hours of searching, bargaining, and more searching, I gave up due to exhaustion after only managing to locate half of the things on my list. It was not my best bargaining effort, but I did come out of it with some unique gifts and a few Zanzibari decorations for my new apartment (I couldn’t resist).
On Christmas the following day, several of my friends hosted a big party at their house outside of Stone Town. While the weather wasn’t exactly what I associate with “Christmas weather” and we had to swap out a Christmas tree for some palm trees, it turned out to be a really festive and enjoyable evening, complete with a Christmas feast (stuffing and cranberry sauce included) and secret santa. While I still missed many of my Christmas traditions from home, I appreciated the unique opportunity to experience such an important holiday in a foreign country. With a little improvisation and even more imagination, our group was able to recreate many of the things that remind me of why I love Christmas in the first place. And getting to skype with my family (and dogs) at the end of the night made it seem like I was a little bit closer to home.
While I was originally planning on returning to Dar shortly after Christmas, the appeal of spending another full week in Zanzibar was a bit too strong to fight, and I decided to spend new years there as well. I ended up traveling to Paje on the east coast (also known as the kite surfing capital of Zanzibar) and spent several days on the beach prior to the holiday. Fortunately, one of my friends was able to set us all up with free dorm-style accommodation in a lodge one plot back from the beach. It was such a treat to be able to escape the chaos of city life for a couple of days and relax, read, and jog in the evenings. When new years eve finally arrived, the entire town of Paje seemed to light up as people from all over the world came together to dance and celebrate the beginning of the new year. It was quite a spectacular event to be a part of.
I easily could have spent another ten days in Zanzibar and been perfectly content, but I knew that I would eventually have to get out of vacation mode and return to Dar. When I had left Zanzibar the first time, I knew in the back of my mind that I would be back for Christmas, so it wasn’t as difficult to come to terms with my departure. It was infinitely more challenging to leave the second time, not having a clear idea of when I would be able to return. With that unsettling thought in my mind, I boarded small ten-seater plane back to Dar. As the plane increased in altitude, I watched as the island became smaller and smaller, until it blended into the horizon.
Back in Dar, I walked out of the airport only to be ambushed by no fewer than six taxi drivers all quoting different prices to where I needed to go. I went with the driver with the best price and was on the road for about six or seven minutes before a truck merged into our lane, causing one of the wheels to hit the side of the cab and send us into the median. While fortunately neither the driver nor myself were affected, the entire headlight of my driver’s car was completely smashed. As I’ve learned, there are two types of drivers in Tanzania: those who exhibit every symptom of road rage imaginable, and those who prefer to work things out in a more “diplomatic” fashion. Fortunately for us, the truck driver preferred to work things out the diplomatic way, and within several minutes he and my driver were shaking hands and patting each other on the back (I later discovered that the truck driver had agreed to pay for the damages, which could partially explain why my driver was behaving so cordially). My driver apologized to me profusely for the accident and quickly arranged another taxi to take me back to Powell’s apartment.
This experience wasn’t exactly the “welcome back to Dar” that I was hoping for. That being said, it did serve as an unsettling reminder of how ubiquitous minor traffic accidents are throughout the city. Traffic is terrible, many vehicles are inadequate and would never pass inspection in the US, and drivers can be reckless in certain areas. On top of this, a ticket for practically any offense can be negotiated and police officers are much more interested in taking bribes than following the rules. This culture of corruption is facilitated by low wages for law enforcement officials. Bribery is viewed as one of the only means of making ends meet.
Before I get too carried away, I should say that daily life in Dar is not like this at all. I feel incredibly safe here and find the locals friendly and welcoming for the most part. With any city, it is important to remain cognizant of what is going on around you and keep your guard up, and I’ve found that to be the case here as well.
There’s much more to write, but I will have to save that for my next post!
wanderings 