Begging Makes You Richer

Met John yesterday on the streets of Nansio when I was out alone buying breakfast. An stout man of imposing stature, he chatted me up amidst my brisk pace, even as I was wary of his intentions. But compassion gave way. John was simply looking for a job and badgered me as he felt I could help. But I felt helpless. Lamentable how decent men like John were looking to work for decent wages, but shortchanged due to lack of employment opportunities. My job in NCSS identifies this as a “service gap” and here in Tanzania, it’ll take years of social enterprise and state intervention in job-creation before such needs can be met.

This contrasts with a story we heard from Ron Rieckenberg whom we met in Moshi town 2 weeks back. An American sinking his roots in Tanzania after marrying a local and immersing himself in NGO-work here, he told us how some beggars were raking in much more money daily as compared to the sweating street vendors peddling their wares, or women who had to endure long dusty walks from their villages everyday to sell fruits or firewood in town. Thus the moral dilemma of whether to buy something you don’t need from a street vendor harassing you for a sale, or contributing to the possible pile of a blind man or hapless-looking mother. But since it’s not a zero sum, probably a bit of and to both.

Also better managing my struggle with our roles here in Africa. On one hand, you feel real guilty spending big tourist bucks when you know your nearby neighbour is living on less than a dollar a day. On the other, throwing yourself fully to live/eat like the locals or taking the full plunge to work in full-time development work in Africa is a drastic decision that requires a clear calling. It’s telling how most of the foreigners we met so far are involved somehow in NGO work. Maybe our next stop in Uganda tomorrow in a formal volunteering role will help us better understand what we can or cannot do, here in Africa.

Longcut

So we arrived in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania, with no agenda except to get to Kampala in Uganda for a short volunteering stint. I notice that a lot of the decisions we make don’t have a lot of logical backing, but anyway in this case we thought it would be ‘fun’ to overland up to Uganda instead of taking the two hour flight. So its taken 17 days and we are not actually there yet….

Total bus rides: 3, 27 hours
Total boat rides: 3, 16 hours
Total recovery days (from the various forms of transport):5
Tours/excursions: 3 days

One good thing about doing it this way is (no, don’t believe that hype about ‘getting to meet and know the locals’ – that only happens if you really live and work with them), that each consecutive place we’ve visited seems to be getting better and better. Maybe we are finally getting ourselves off the track beaten by hoardes of safari going muzungu (tourists) and its getting quieter.

We have just washed up on the shore of Lake Victoria at a place called Bukoba this morning after an overnight boat crossing from another port city called Mwanza. It was looking to be a sad ride because we did not manage to get any sleeping berths and were expecting to sit exhaustedly amongst piles of cargo for the night. But a crew officer came up to us and offered us his cabin (for a price) which we joyously accepted. We felt a bit guilty for the other people who had to sit all night but it didn’t last that long – cos we went to sleep. Willy says that this boat experience was very colonial (catch phrase for Africa) in that the rich foreigners were in first class and the poor locals were in third class and there was a divider between them. I thought it was a lot like Titanic. Were pretty impressed by the navigational system though, and we didn’t hit any rocks so that was good. Prayed pretty hard though. A ferry in 1996 that sank with 1000 people had stopped passenger ferry traffic between Tanzania and Uganda.

Paranoia

For Willy, this last travel phase of Africa had unfortunately imposed a recent cloud of paranoia raining down on his mind wherever we walk. It seemed most of the people we meet were either trying to hard-sell us something, or making innocuous remarks that could be construed as incendiary to elicit some response. Advice from the hotel staff at Dar Es Salaam to never trust anyone on the street who claims to know you entrenched firmly.

Our typical response was simply to ignore and continue with a brisk walk. But the paranoia compounds. Simply put, I don’t trust anyone on the street anymore, verging on anticipating a robbery anytime a stranger approaches us. Hardly a healthy perspective to travel with. Like the young chap yesterday who had strike up a conversation with us on the street and seemed genuinely curious and friendly, until he started asking for our mobile numbers. A warning on phone charge fraud buzzed loudly in my mind immediately.

Frankly, I detest this inherent built-up of paranoia. Whatever happened to the meeting of minds between strangers? Or getting to know the locals’ stories and perspectives? Yet all that filled my mind was the image of these two Asians sticking out like sore thumbs among the Africans, holding a neon “Rob Me!” advertisement sign. It’s a disgusting perspective since I’m demonizing people who are just out to sell something and make a decent living. Yet it’s this inevitable hazard of being tourists in this part of the world, vastly different if we happen to be working as locals. A certain degree of common-sense caution still needs to be maintained at all times, but wisdom and discernment is currently elusive, preventing me from fully embracing Africa.

A Taste Of Tanzania

Apologies for the radio silence since our last post of almost 2 weeks back – it had been quite a flurry hauling ourselves into Africa. We learnt recently about a bureaucratic requirement to possess an onward/return ticket before flying into Africa and due to our usual lack of planning (suffering from some travel fatigue), it’s all up to prayer as usual. So indeed it was a huge sigh of relief when the immigration officials at Tanzania’s Dar Es Salaam airport waved us through!


For Willy, Tanzania floods back his memories of India – the chaos and clamour of Bangalore, the absence of sane urban planning, the instinct that very same social problems plaguing a developing country stem from the greed and fall of man. But Tanzania has its own unique charms and pitfalls. Such as witnessing two overturned vehicles languishing at the side of the road as our trusty bus driver maneuvers past, and having an ATM officially launched by the Minister of Finance. Don’t take it that we’re poking fun at Tanzania, just that such occurrences are simply foreign to us.

For the past 5 days, we have parked ourselves in the town of Moshi, at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro. And no we’re not climbing the mountain, out of sheer distrust of our fitness level and sympathy for our limp wallet. Though some people we’ve met lamented about the loss in tourist dollars that’s affecting the entire town. Everyone from the mountaineering porter to the provision shopkeeper is taking a hit from the global economic downturn. From the excellent array of local English newspapers we’ve read, the apparent unfavorable weather affecting crop yields and lack of machinery for farmlands can only exacerbate the pain.

It’s also somewhat true when our guidebook stated that people go to Africa to confirm what they already have in their heads, and fail to see what’s in front of them. No, Africa’s not a mere country, and Africa’s not all about poverty, AIDs and safaris. It’s a diverse continent brimming with promise and hope, of hardworking people trying to make a decent living. Just like you and me. For our days ahead, we’re praying hard for wisdom to understand and appreciate the capacity of this continent, and refrain from stereotyping.