Thursday, May 16, 2013
Smooth trip landing
at 0800 Thursday morning. The three legs
of the flight included lots of reading and periodically standing in the back of
the airplane chatting with the pretty flight attendants every hour or so to get
out of the cramped seat. Too much pending
excitement to sleep comfortably, I tried to no avail. I obtained my student VISA for $100 and was
waved through customs without breaking stride.
Exiting the airport, I saw who I thought would be Ben holding a sign
with my name. Godfrey turned out to be a
taxi driver Ben hired to take me to the hostel.
On the way, I asked Godfrey to stop to exchange my US$ to Tanzanian
Shillings. $1 USD = TZS 1,600 for
denominations below $100 and $1 USD=TZS 1,628 for the larger bill. I had a huge wad of 62 TZS 10,000 notes with
some 5,000 and 1,000 and a few coins. My
$391 USD became TZS 628,400.00 of currency.
In route to the hostel, Godfrey had me to call Ben to set a time for Ben
to meet me later in the day.
Ben Is the KEI director in Tanzania and I think he will be
one of the Swahili instructors. He met
me at the hostel later in the afternoon around 1600 upon which we went for
dinner. I had a tasty Indian meal of
skewered chicken and tomatoes with a side dish of some type of sautéed hardy greens,
maybe kale. After exiting the dark restaurant
I noticed the majority of my fingertips were yellow from picking at the curry
laced chicken. Afterwards we walked
around the city center looking for a cell phone (provided by KEI) and a
suitcase for me so I could divide my personal items between what to take with
me and what to leave at Bens house while I explore, dream and discover the
country for the next 3.5 weeks.
Before parting paths, with Ben going home to his wife and
two children, I asked him where I could go to experience my first night in
Dar. His first suggestions were a dance
club in one place and live music in another.
The loud music not being to my tastes I asked for a quieter place where
conversation could be heard. He
immediately said the Jolly Club would be the perfect place. He showed me where the club was on the city
maps I had brought with me from the US but suggested I take a taxi even though
the location was only 2 km away due to the dangers of city nightlife and my
status of being a foreigner (white). Ben
helped me hail a taxi and immediately drove away with Godfrey and my new
suitcase filled with things I would later need after I arrive back in Dar on
June 12.
Ben said the taxi to the Jolly Club would cost about TZS
3,000. With Ben and Godfrey turning the
corner in their taxi and out of sight, my driver first quoted 12,000, I said
3,000, he said 5,000, I said 3,000, he said 5,000 and no less. I said not another word and began walking
toward the club with my map in hand. How
bad could be the dangers of Dar? After
my first turn in route and oblivious to the driver I had just left haggling, as
there were many touting me to ride with them, the same driver pulled up beside
me with the window down saying OK, 3,000 (just under $2 USD) but for you this
is a special deal. Paying close
attention of the route he drove, we arrived in less than 5 minutes. He ran two red lights in light traffic,
beeping his horn through each intersection, in a car which sounded like the
front end suspension was about to fall apart.
Ben warned me prostitution was common in Tanzania. Illegal, but overlooked by the
authorities. He said there may be a few ladies
of ill repute at the Jolly Club. His
advice with prostitution was to “read the menu but not taste the food”. I
drank a couple of beers, a stout Guinness and a local, light, lager called
Safari which also happens to be the name of the hostel where I am staying. The only women I saw were the two who worked
there. The rest consisted of about 25
men sitting in groups at different tables.
I first sat at a table by myself watching TV in English for a short time
drinking the Safari, then moved to the bar and salivated over the Guinness I
saw in the cooler. I immediately struck
a conversation with a dark skinned man about my age sitting next to me,
initially asking if he spoke English. We
had a basic conversation for about 20 minutes with introductions. As he got up to leave with his friends and
after teaching me a few key Swahili phrases, Rama (49 years old)said to come
join him back at the Jolly Club tomorrow evening for more conversation. I walked the 25 minutes back to the hostel
without incident feeling safer walking than riding in a taxi running red lights. There were a few touts by the taxi stand at
the exit in addition to half a dozen panhandlers I ignored as I found my way
back to the hostel.
One thing I noticed I will have to get used to rapidly, or
die, is crossing traffic lanes. In the
US, we are taught to look left, right then left again before entering traffic
or crossing the street as a pedestrian.
Here, not only do the drivers operate their vehicles sitting on the
right side of the vehicle, they also drive on the left side of the road. After two beers, I had to think twice on
several occasions before crossing the street.
My first instinct was to look left which could prove detrimental taking
that first step into the travel lane.
Now I have to look right for oncoming traffic. Also, like Brazil and Costa Rica, pedestrians
DO NOT have the right of way in traffic.
Get out of the way or be hit and suffer the consequences.
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