Dar, Briefly

Hello all, from rainy Zanzibar.

Let's start with yesterday. We arrived in Dar Es Salaam (Tanzania's largest city and former capital) in the early afternoon, at the big bus depot outside of town. We planned to stay downtown at the Jambo Inn, my home away from home last summer when I was in Tz for two weeks. As such, we needed to take a matatu (called "Daladala"s here in Tz.) into the city. Daladalas have two major differences from Matatus. 1) The ceiling is raised about 18 inches, creating much more space. 2) There are no laws decreeing an upper limit on passengers. This combination results in tremendously crammed vehicles. People fill the vehicle's seats to capacity, and then continue to cram more and more folks into the narrow benches. Then people begin to stand in the remaining niches, utilizing every bit of that extra headroom. Unlike their Kenyan counterparts which never exceed 14 people, Daladalas often reach 25 or more. The saying is that there is ALWAYS room for one more. Our vehicle into the city topped out at 22.

The extra folks are in ever tighter quarters with each other, allowing for even less personal space than before. Increased crime is one result. I felt other people's hands stray towards my pockets at least twice on our twenty minute ride.

Even so, we arrived downtown safe and sound, and set off on 10 minute walk to the Jambo Inn. Along the way, I was reminded of lots of places and events from my previous visit. It was a very positive experience. In the 16 months since I last passed along those streets, a great deal of development has taken place. I recall being impressed at the amount of construction taking place, and much of that has come to an end with the result being that the numerous streets and avenues downtown are now lined with bustling shops and cafes, all indiciating that the local economy is thriving. There are also more cars to be found, more people out after dark, and slightly higher prices. Additionally, the power shortages that plauged the city last year are now said to be a thing of the past. W ith all the changes, it is almost starting to feel like the theater district in Philladelphia, with many small cafes and shops spilling out into the sidewalks, block after block. Okay, that might be a stretch, but the amount of development in the entire downtown region is astounding. Dar is clearly a city on the rise.

The only other really noteworthy incident occured after dinner, as we were walking back to the hotel around 8pm. A lady and her small child were sitting on the sidewalk, begging for handouts. I hurried by, as we often do. But as I walked, I began to feel more and more guilty about leaving a starving child without any help. Abo ut a block later, I changed course. I went to a street corner where local vendors sell fresh fruit, and purchased a large bunch of minature sweet bananas. I returned to the woman, gift in hand. I gave her the food, and started to talk. I begged her to try to find some sort of work. I showed her the AIDS pin that I always wear, and explained how relatively they are to make, and that tourists or other people would certainly buy similar beaded products with the Tanzanian flag or other images. I also talked to her about the importance of nutrition for the small child, encouraging her to make sure he gets food from all the major groups whenever possible. She was very receptive and grateful for the food and information. Then as I was leaving, she said something that struck me like a stone.

"The boy's father is a German, and he told me he'd come back one day. He just hasn't arrived yet." She'd been waiting for years.

This morning we slept in, had a leisurely breakfast, and took a three-hour ferry to Zanzibar. More on that later.

Chris