And so it begins..

The rainy season that is. Everyone here seemed very worried because the dry season was lasting longer than normal. Not only does that mean that the crops will not grow, but 60% of Tanzania’s energy is hydroelectric so there were power outages for Dar es Salaam over the last week or two. The power was going off regularly around 6pm every afternoon. However, since the rains started the electricity has been on consistently.



It rained ferociously for 30 minutes, but that was enough to flood the streets in front of our hotel.



After the drains pulled all of that water away, Ruth and I were able to head back out on our walks. We have nearly everything we’ll need for our year in the Udzungwa Mountains National Park except for a CAR! We have one selected but we are waiting on our $ to be transferred from our US bank into our Tanzanian account. Ruth’s Tanzanian account I should say. It is not possible for me to have one due to totally reasonable banking bureaucracy. Why would they want my money?

I take care of my Durham Bike COOP peoples and Lesley Starke so I have procured this photo of a hand pedaled bike (photo credit: Ruth Steel). These bikes are all over the city and are being used by the MANY crippled victims of Polio. It’s incredibly sad to see so many people with wasted legs when this disease was supposedly cured a century ago.



And finally one last bike photo- for those readers considering what a post apocalyptic produce carrier might look like. This will get you from your urban homestead to the farmer’s market in classic Gilligan’s island style.

Bikes in Dar es Salaam

I tried to take a few pictures of some of the interesting bikes that we see here, but it’s actually very difficult because people generally do not like to have their picture taken. So I’ve been carrying the camera around in the palm of my hand and snapping photos from the hip and it works only around 10% of the time. You see all kinds of bikes being used not just for personal transportation but also for hauling goods and equipment. There are two wheel and three wheel bikes, bikes where you pedal with your feet and bikes where you pedal with our hands. There are bikes hauling produce, charcoal, wood, and there are ice cream bikes playing music (usually some old folk song like London bridges falling down…falling down). After peak oil, we might find some of these designs quite useful to replace our SUVs in the US.



Cyclists are weaving in and out of the unbelievably maddening car traffic and spumes of black exhaust here. This city would be so much nicer if there were no cars! If you’re not driving in one and you’re not riding a bike, then you’re walking down the street along the sides of the road and still dodging cars. There are few sidewalks so pedestrians are mainly walking the thin line between the parked cars along the side of the road and the traffic. We’ve found that it’s much safer to walk in the direction of the oncoming traffic so that we can avoid being sideswiped. When you step outside you have to adjust the volume of conversation to compensate for the high decibels of white noise coming from all of the automobiles.
There are quite a few bike shops and they mainly are selling Chinese bikes. These are pretty cheap heavy bikes employing some equipment last seen on the streets of Europe and the US over half a century ago. It gives the bike a classic look though. You can find bike repairmen on many corners doing pirate bike repair. Need to true your wheel? Then have it fixed by the man below on his customized truing stand made from an old bike fork. These guys know what they’re doing.

The real Zahor

Just Business-

We’ve been hiking all over this part of Dar looking for things like a washtub or a surge protector and these are the sights along the way-

We narrowly avoided a major scam while trying to buy a car from the local street dealers yesterday. We had arranged to purchase a nice looking 4WD Suzuki from a friend of Eddie and Samuel on Friday. The guy who first showed us the car and who we thought owned the car, we thought was named Zahor. Saturday, when we all met to go over to the govt. TRA office to transfer the registration there was another man (the boss of all these guys) who was the real ‘owner’ of the car and was the real Zahor! This was unsettling to find that we had been misled, but we figured that if we could get some official paperwork from the TRA we would be protected. On our way to the agency we learned that the real Zahor is employed by the govt. as an import revenue agent, so he claimed that he could facilitate the registration transfer. However, when we got there the office was closed- which sent up red flag #2 for us since we figured that he must have already known this. Even so, we were still arguing about the price and the terms of our agreement hoping to strike a deal. Ruth and I insisted that the cost of the registration name change is included in the total price and that this step precede payment. The day before, with the fake Zahor this arrangement had been no problem- but when we met with the actual Zahor, it was the deal breaker. He insisted that we transfer the $ for the car into his bank account before the re-registration name change, and that we pay for the registration which he claimed should only cost a fraction of the price of the vehicle. We were skeptical but still not sure, and we happened to be arguing this point with the real Zahor outside his bank when coincidentally one of our acquaintances from the Jambo Inn happened along. Manji saw us with these guys and pulled me aside and said to be careful, that many times the cars which are owned by government employees or NGOs have not yet had the taxes paid and so will have to be paid when the registration is transferred to a new owner. Without even knowing that the real Zahor was working for the government, Manji had hit the nail on the head! I thanked him and returned to Ruth and the real Zahor convinced that this was the case. If we purchased the vehicle then we would also have to pay the Tanzanian import taxes which are ~ 100% of the original price! The real Zahor was getting Japanese cars from the ships, not paying taxes thanks to his government position and then selling these cars at higher prices with hidden registration costs to foreigners. Eddie, Samuel and the fake Zahor were all working for the real Zahor, finding naive buyers like Ruth and I. We were lucky to find out in time and we cancelled the deal. So now we’re back to square 1, but we know not to buy our car from a shady dealer OR government employee. We had to learn the hard way I guess. What is also funny is that it seems like everybody in the neighborhood knows that we were going to buy this car and they all agree that we were being scammed and that we made the right decision not to buy it. But nobody else warned us beforehand! Nothing personal, it’s just business.

Cars and diamonds

We’ve spent three days trying to open a bank account at the CRDB bank in Dar es Salaam. They require a residence permit, passport photocopies, letter of introduction from your employer and reference letters from other bank members! We finally got all of this stuff together for Ruth but then the ‘new accounts computer went down’ and it has been down for two days. So we have decided to try another bank, although the closest branch to Udzungwa, where we will be staying, is 200 kilometers. I was also thwarted in my attempt to obtain a residence permit so I’ll have to leave the country every three months in order to renew my multiple entry visa. This will mean that I get to see more of Africa while I’m here, and there’s a train line that passes Udzungwa on the way to Zambia and to Ruanda, so maybe it’s not such a big deal. However, we spent a few painful hours navigating the bureaucratic beast to discover this and we were further convinced that paperwork causes brain rot in both the victims and the perpetrator.

Our search for a car took an interesting twist while were having lunch today. We sat next to a table with four businessmen and I asked one of them what he was having for lunch since his food looked so good and we have been having a difficult time figuring out what to order from the menu since we can hardly recognize any of the names. Anyway, the guy, an older gentleman in his 60s, turns out to be from New York and his partners were African. He tells us he’s in the fabric business and he knows a lot of people and he comes to Africa quite often and he hands us his card which just has his name and contact info both in New York and Africa and the word ‘President’ written on it. No company name and no indication of what business he’s in. Let’s call him Frank since I don’t want to use his real name. When he finds out that we are looking to buy a car he says that he can help us out! Frank points to his African partner and says that this man can arrange to have our import charges waved if we buy a car off the boat, and he will bring us to a Japanese guy that brings the cars in from Japan. Frank seemed to be happy to help us out as fellow Americans and at the same time to impress us with his connections. So we say great! Most of the cars in Tanzania are brought in on the ships from Japan and have been used moderately. The local dealers buy them from the Japanese and pay the port fees and taxes and then resell them in Dar es Salaam. So we were going to go straight to the supplier and cut out the middleman! Sweet! Here’s a shot of the harbor showing all of the big ships.

As we are walking back to Frank’s hotel, I fall into conversation with one of the African associates who tells me that he’s a gem and mineral expert and he works with Frank. I am thinking, what about textiles? Apparently, there are many diamonds purchased in Tanzania that come from all parts of Africa - some from Tanzania and some that come all the way from Angola and the Congo. This man consults for the buyers to ensure that the stones they purchase are legit. When we reach the hotel, Ruth and I sit with the African guys in the lobby while Frank goes to the front desk and calls down the Japanese car dealer. While we are waiting for the Japanese guy to come down, Frank brings over the man at the front desk and introduces us to him and says ‘these are my friends, take care of them and help them with anything they need’ in a mafia like way. Frank has this habit of saying everything very conspiratorially so that you have to lean in to listen and smile in a knowing way to play along. The hotelier plays this game too and gives us a funny look and walks away. When the Japanese guy comes down Frank grabs him by the arm and motions us all into the back restaurant where he tells all the people working in there to leave the room and give us privacy! He sits us down at one of the tables and commences to strike a deal on a car for Ruth and I. At one point I try to interject and tell the Japanese guy who has a bemused smile what our price range is and Frank is horrified that I say how munch money we could spend so I decide to stay quiet for a minute and let Frank handle it. However, suddenly the hotel manager comes in and politely asks us all to leave the restaurant because of the fumes. Then I realized that it DID smell funny in there. As we left the room I saw the sign that we missed on the way in which said ‘Room closed for fumigation!” The people Frank had kicked out were the fumigators. We weren’t so special after all it seems. At that point Frank had to leave on other business and he suggested to Ruth and I that we take the Japanese guy down to the bar and discuss cars there. As he left, we thanked him again for his help and he assured us that we could contact him if we needed anything at all and not to make a deal until we consulted him and that he would help us take care of the import fees and the paperwork. He took me aside and he told me not to trust anybody, that he was a diamond dealer and that he would be in leaving to the Congo in a day, that he would be back in town soon after but we could call him if we needed him. Unfortunately, a few minutes alone with the Japanese car dealer were all that it took to realize this was not going to work out for us. He was selling cars which were yet to be shipped from Japan. You order the car from the photo, pay half the money up front, and in one month the car arrives at the port. We don’t have enough time to wait, and now that I think about it, the whole deal sounds pretty shady if you have to pay $ up front, although I think that the Japanese guy was honest and Frank was just trying to be helpful. When Ruth and I walked out of the hotel we had a good laugh about the whole incident, and who knows but we might have to call Frank if we ever get in a jam.

In the afternoon I sat on the stoop in front of the hotel with all the characters that arrange taxis, sell cars and book tours for the tourists from our hotel. We’re getting to know some of these guys quite well since they have been bringing cars for us to look at and have been advising us in our daily trip preparations. We took one of the guys, named Eddie, out to dinner last night. He has been a cook on many safaris and had some good stories for us. He’s sitting next to me and we’re both NOT in the photo below which was took surreptitiously from where I sat so as not to be too conspicuous. Unless we can find a better deal we will probably buy Eddie’s friends’ car tomorrow.

First couple of days in Tanzania

Holy crap, where do I begin? A lot has happened since my last post. We moved out of our house in Durham, got most of our junk into one 5x10 foot storage container (and spread the rest around into various attics), said goodbye to all of our friends in Durham and in West Virginia and caught a flight to Dar es Salaam, Africa from the Pittsburg airport.

We flew on Emirates airlines which was really nice. I would say “if you have the means, I highly recommend it”, but strangely we booked the cheapest tickets we could find and wound up on that airline. The food was great, the service was spectacular and each seat had a video touch-screen with 600 channels of movies and TV shows and music. If you don’t mind that the safety video is in Arabic and shows a skull-capped Islamic dude blowing air into his life preserver as he jumps out the emergency doors, then fly Emirates. We had an overnight layover in Dubai so the airline put us up in a nice hotel for free with all our meals complementary. From there it was only a 5 hour flight to Dar es Salaam.

It's hot as constricted unclean balls here! Ruth and I arrived yesterday afternoon, with about 300 pounds of luggage, to a chaotic scene at the airport. Customs and immigration control went smoothly, but when we stepped outside we were mobbed by taxi drivers and tour operators speaking a mix of English and Swahili. Wish I had some pictures of that scene, but we were too busy trying to get our bearings- we had to exchange some $, buy a cell phone and call a hotel to arrange for a room. By the time we got this taken care of, we had a lot of spectators, but somehow it was already worked out which of these guys was going to be our taxi driver and we had no choice in the matter. There are a lot of men that are working as Jack of all trades here in Dar es Salaam- You need car? I get you car. You need taxi? Safari? Here is my card, you call me- So we have a few numbers now.

It was so hot in the middle of the day today that we had to just lay under the fan in our room and not move. While I was eating lunch with Ruth I watched heat rash break out on her eye sockets, and Ruth says that my lips are white. Here is a photo of the street, taken from our hotel balcony.

Dar es Salaam is crowded and busy even in this heat. We walk around during the afternoon and say ‘Hujambo bwana’ or ‘Hujambo mama’ to people we see. Of course they want to know where we are from and practice English. Not many guess that we are American but once we tell them, they say things like ‘Oh Hollywood!’ or ‘Obama. Bush!’ and also ‘Welcome to Tanzania!’ People are generally very nice here. There are lots of cars, but many people are just walking and some are riding their awesome old school bikes. The bikes I’ve seen so far are very similar to the ones that I saw in China. The brakes are mechanically levered with rods, or even !hydraulics! and not cabled like most modern bikes in the US and Europe. Out of the hundreds of new and old bikes I’ve worked on at the Durham bike COOP, never have I done a bike with this type of braking system. Here is a picture of a typical bike, although you can’t see the brakes on this one so perhaps it’s a hipster’s fixed gear?

Tomorrow is Monday, so we will finally be able to get some of our tasks done. We have some hustlers showing up at the hotel in the morning to sell us a car. We casually mentioned that we were going to buy a car to some guys that we were talking to on the street and before we knew it we were surrounded by ‘car dealers’ and they have just the right one for us! We will have several to choose from waiting in front of our hotel at very good prices in the morning!