I read a scary paragraph today in a paper called "The Citizen". It contained the sentence: "...with nearly 90% of the people unable to get a single meal a day." This would reduce the Tanzanian population to about 10% fairly soon.
All joking aside, the report is fairly grim and says that 90% of Tanzanians have only $2 for food per day. How much do you get for $2 here? For example, a loaf of bread and about ten bananas, having enough left over to get a cup of tea somewhere. As I mentioned earlier, this area is somewhat richer and doesn't feel the pinch as much. There are quite a number of overweight people, actually. But my trip, especially the train part, has brought me through some poorer areas, where there is not as much food and things are grimmer.
Friday, 25 January 2008
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
The 300 stooges
(Train trip from Mwanza to Dar on Jan 1st, 2008)
I had checked in the morning to see if there was an opening in First class, to no avail. The reporting time was 17:00. I spent the day getting some shopping done for the trip and also visited the fish market that I had noticed when I first arrived. It looked far, somewhat at another shore of the lake, but ended up only a twenty-minute walk. For hygienic reasons my diet is a little restricted right now. I cut out milk products (too many power outages) and meat (not sure about how they handle it - probably not EU standards, while on the other hand I am sure it is mostly very fresh; picture a chicken walking into a restaurant and it'll end up on the "plat du jour" in no time). I decided to keep fish (samaki) in the diet, but after seeing the fish market, I may get second thoughts, too.
Fish was piled up some 3-4 feet high. Workers were handling it while standing on it - some barefoot, some with shoes. Vultures and other pesky birds everywhere, not to forget about all the flies hanging out. One guy was loading a trailer. Oops, there went one fish past the trailer, right into the dirt. With all that keep in mind the fish here is eaten with the skin (and, as mentioned before, with eyeballs), so yes, I was a bit concerned with people standing on the fish). Talked to a nice fellow and he assured me that that fish is mostly sold to Uganda and the northern parts of South Africa (huh? Would that be North South Africa???). Alrighty then....
Since January first is a holiday most restaurants and shops were closed, but fortunately the pizza place was open. So I went there for the third time and filled up my stomach. At 17:00 I headed over to the train station. Tons of people there, but nowhere to report. The ticket booths were closed. People kept telling me about a black board where the names would be listed (including if I got my upgrade to first class), but I couldn't find it. There was no train either, which I figured was a bad sign for a 18:00pm departure. Soon the news made the round that there was some problem and the departure wouldn't be until 21:30.
Eventually I found the list. It wasn't posted until maybe 20:00 or so. I didn't make the upgrade to first class. Oh well. There were no lights in the train, but at some point I decided to just board and go to bed. One guy was already there, but I still got the chance to claim a bed on the lowest level. I am always afraid of falling out of an high altitude bed. Just like in a Euro-sleeper, there were three bunk beds on top of each other, on each side, for a total of six. Eventually the others came too, carefully making sure to shine their flash lights always straight into my eyes, just to ensure that I wouldn't go to sleep before the party ended (or started?). Finally - I think around 23:00 - we started moving.
I woke up to a nice sunrise while lying in my comfy (?) bed. We were in Shinyanga. It is hard to belive that the train must have taken about seven hours to cover a distance that took the bus maybe three or four. Because my luggage, albeit locked, was sitting underneath my bed, I felt a bit uncomfortable going to breakfast, although once we got moving again I figured at least nobody could jump in and take the bag and jump out. The breakfast car was two cars up. They served sausage, omelette and bread, together with tea. The tea was pre-sweetened and the plate of food included a big hump of salt. My brother would be in heaven, but I am not too fond of either and learned to order my teas "bila sukari." However, this time it was already stirred in. Sigh.
I spent most of the rest of the day on my bed, sometimes falling asleep, sometimes reading, but mostly just watching Tanzania fly by. It was just fascinating to see the different landscapes and I am glad I was sitting in a comfortable train and not in a bus, where half of my concentration is wasted on not getting bus sick. In Tabora we could get off and have lunch. It didn't matter that we were already five or so hours behind schedule. If there was to be a two-hour break it was going to be a two-hour break. I had met a nice fella during breakfast and we went to lunch together. I had of course again thoughts (first, second and thirds) about my luggage. In the end I had to trust the guy who was staying back. I have learned that most Tanzanians are very trustworthy, and especially when you travel together with them. Since I cut out the meat my lunch was rice and beans. There was plenty of it and I can't believe they only charged TZS800!
After stocking up on water our journey finally continued. I skipped dinner, as I had bought a loaf of bread in Mwanza. At something like 2:00 or maybe 3:00 in the morning we were in Dodoma. Since I had slept a bit during day time and went to bed ridiculously early I got out for a bit to stretch. When the train started again I was watching the stars in the night sky. It may sound boring but I was super happy by a simple pleasure like that.
In Dodoma a few guys had gotten off and a few on. I started talking to one "newcomer", but of course my Swahili only gets me so far. He asked me if I spoke French. Man, I can't tell you what a welcome change that was!!! He was from Congo and a really nice guy. We chatted a lot. We stood side by side on the window and watched the locals try to sell all their goodies at all those tiny little villages along the way. Depending on the region there was an abundance of supply in onions or coconuts or bananas or pineapples. There were kids, some not older than four or five, selling stuff (I have now idea how they would be able to reach up to the window, as even teenagers had to really make themselves long to get the money and give the food - sometimes the customers just throw the money out the window and the salesperson has to find it in the dirt). At one stop a guy made a last minute decision (even by my standards) to buy bananas when the train was already rolling! The lady who had them started running, got to the window but had no energy left to lift the yellow fruit up, so had to abandon her efforts under the laughter of about everyone else around her (she was smiling, too). And one of the very little ones, who managed to sell all his bananas in one scoop, ran like madman, celebrating like a football player who just scored the decisive goal in a final, showing his money to some of his peers, then ran off.
Paul from Congo and I were watching all this together and it was just so entertaining. Between the stops we would look at the pretty country side, sometimes interrupted by our conversation in French. At one stop I noticed he threw two plastic bottles out the window, right where a child was standing. She picked up the two bottles he tossed. I remembered that some people liked to collect those and got out my empty one. Paul directed me to throw it to the other kid that had appeared (he was so small I didn't even think he would know what to do with a plastic bottle). He picked it up happily. Then I saw more and more people throw bottles and more and more kids appear. They still ran (many barefoot on uneven, unpaved and rocky ground, I may add) as the train was already moving.
Then Paul told me we had to get of in Morongoro to catch buses. A freight train wreck was blocking the tracks. Paul, Peter - a friend of Paul - and I set down at a "cafe". When the first buses arrived, most passengers started to run, scrambling for position and fighting to get in line. Police was at the scene quickly to keep somewhat of an order! It was surreal. I am glad that Peter and Paul stayed relaxed. We kept sitting in the shade, while most passengers now had to wait in the baking sun. The boarding process took forever and not all buses had arrived yet. We watched as the police kept shuffling "line cutters" out of the queues. Even local TV decided it was worth a story! It was fun to watch several hundred stooges make fools of themselves. Then a bus parked somewhere else and we decided to go for that one. There was already a line, but we managed to get in, albeit with a lot of work. Other people kept pushing in from the side. Fortunately this turned out to be a bus that also had many police officers already boarded. I had noticed them in the train earlier, and they kept things somewhat at bay, though I am not sure that even we cut some people off, simply by trying to prevent others in cutting and following police orders on how to get into the bus.
Once inside I had to fight through towards the end of the bus with my overly wide backpack. People started putting baskets filled with chicken everywhere in the aisle. I sure hope they remembered which baskets were theirs, for the chickens all sounded and looked the same! I felt like I had just managed to fight through the front row of a Metallica concert. I was soaked in sweat, but as I sat I had a big grin on my face, seeing all the pushing and shoving and the chickens and roosters in baskets, some trying to hop out. After all what I just had witnessed was super comical and something not pat of any main stream tourist program.
We finally left, after a four-hour wait and with three hours left to Dar. The train wouldn't have been slower. There was a moment when everybody got up and looked to the right. Aha, checking out the freight train wreckage. I was amazed, btw, that our train didn't derail. Frequently it was bouncing up and down so much I thought we were going over speed bumps!
All the police personal on the bus didn't help and we got weighed along the route. Fortunately we passed - thank goodness those chickens were all malnourished.
The traffic in Dar was like LA. Sometimes we stood for minutes w/o moving. Maybe the train would have been even faster in the end...
I had checked in the morning to see if there was an opening in First class, to no avail. The reporting time was 17:00. I spent the day getting some shopping done for the trip and also visited the fish market that I had noticed when I first arrived. It looked far, somewhat at another shore of the lake, but ended up only a twenty-minute walk. For hygienic reasons my diet is a little restricted right now. I cut out milk products (too many power outages) and meat (not sure about how they handle it - probably not EU standards, while on the other hand I am sure it is mostly very fresh; picture a chicken walking into a restaurant and it'll end up on the "plat du jour" in no time). I decided to keep fish (samaki) in the diet, but after seeing the fish market, I may get second thoughts, too.
Fish was piled up some 3-4 feet high. Workers were handling it while standing on it - some barefoot, some with shoes. Vultures and other pesky birds everywhere, not to forget about all the flies hanging out. One guy was loading a trailer. Oops, there went one fish past the trailer, right into the dirt. With all that keep in mind the fish here is eaten with the skin (and, as mentioned before, with eyeballs), so yes, I was a bit concerned with people standing on the fish). Talked to a nice fellow and he assured me that that fish is mostly sold to Uganda and the northern parts of South Africa (huh? Would that be North South Africa???). Alrighty then....
Since January first is a holiday most restaurants and shops were closed, but fortunately the pizza place was open. So I went there for the third time and filled up my stomach. At 17:00 I headed over to the train station. Tons of people there, but nowhere to report. The ticket booths were closed. People kept telling me about a black board where the names would be listed (including if I got my upgrade to first class), but I couldn't find it. There was no train either, which I figured was a bad sign for a 18:00pm departure. Soon the news made the round that there was some problem and the departure wouldn't be until 21:30.
Eventually I found the list. It wasn't posted until maybe 20:00 or so. I didn't make the upgrade to first class. Oh well. There were no lights in the train, but at some point I decided to just board and go to bed. One guy was already there, but I still got the chance to claim a bed on the lowest level. I am always afraid of falling out of an high altitude bed. Just like in a Euro-sleeper, there were three bunk beds on top of each other, on each side, for a total of six. Eventually the others came too, carefully making sure to shine their flash lights always straight into my eyes, just to ensure that I wouldn't go to sleep before the party ended (or started?). Finally - I think around 23:00 - we started moving.
I woke up to a nice sunrise while lying in my comfy (?) bed. We were in Shinyanga. It is hard to belive that the train must have taken about seven hours to cover a distance that took the bus maybe three or four. Because my luggage, albeit locked, was sitting underneath my bed, I felt a bit uncomfortable going to breakfast, although once we got moving again I figured at least nobody could jump in and take the bag and jump out. The breakfast car was two cars up. They served sausage, omelette and bread, together with tea. The tea was pre-sweetened and the plate of food included a big hump of salt. My brother would be in heaven, but I am not too fond of either and learned to order my teas "bila sukari." However, this time it was already stirred in. Sigh.
I spent most of the rest of the day on my bed, sometimes falling asleep, sometimes reading, but mostly just watching Tanzania fly by. It was just fascinating to see the different landscapes and I am glad I was sitting in a comfortable train and not in a bus, where half of my concentration is wasted on not getting bus sick. In Tabora we could get off and have lunch. It didn't matter that we were already five or so hours behind schedule. If there was to be a two-hour break it was going to be a two-hour break. I had met a nice fella during breakfast and we went to lunch together. I had of course again thoughts (first, second and thirds) about my luggage. In the end I had to trust the guy who was staying back. I have learned that most Tanzanians are very trustworthy, and especially when you travel together with them. Since I cut out the meat my lunch was rice and beans. There was plenty of it and I can't believe they only charged TZS800!
After stocking up on water our journey finally continued. I skipped dinner, as I had bought a loaf of bread in Mwanza. At something like 2:00 or maybe 3:00 in the morning we were in Dodoma. Since I had slept a bit during day time and went to bed ridiculously early I got out for a bit to stretch. When the train started again I was watching the stars in the night sky. It may sound boring but I was super happy by a simple pleasure like that.
In Dodoma a few guys had gotten off and a few on. I started talking to one "newcomer", but of course my Swahili only gets me so far. He asked me if I spoke French. Man, I can't tell you what a welcome change that was!!! He was from Congo and a really nice guy. We chatted a lot. We stood side by side on the window and watched the locals try to sell all their goodies at all those tiny little villages along the way. Depending on the region there was an abundance of supply in onions or coconuts or bananas or pineapples. There were kids, some not older than four or five, selling stuff (I have now idea how they would be able to reach up to the window, as even teenagers had to really make themselves long to get the money and give the food - sometimes the customers just throw the money out the window and the salesperson has to find it in the dirt). At one stop a guy made a last minute decision (even by my standards) to buy bananas when the train was already rolling! The lady who had them started running, got to the window but had no energy left to lift the yellow fruit up, so had to abandon her efforts under the laughter of about everyone else around her (she was smiling, too). And one of the very little ones, who managed to sell all his bananas in one scoop, ran like madman, celebrating like a football player who just scored the decisive goal in a final, showing his money to some of his peers, then ran off.
Paul from Congo and I were watching all this together and it was just so entertaining. Between the stops we would look at the pretty country side, sometimes interrupted by our conversation in French. At one stop I noticed he threw two plastic bottles out the window, right where a child was standing. She picked up the two bottles he tossed. I remembered that some people liked to collect those and got out my empty one. Paul directed me to throw it to the other kid that had appeared (he was so small I didn't even think he would know what to do with a plastic bottle). He picked it up happily. Then I saw more and more people throw bottles and more and more kids appear. They still ran (many barefoot on uneven, unpaved and rocky ground, I may add) as the train was already moving.
Then Paul told me we had to get of in Morongoro to catch buses. A freight train wreck was blocking the tracks. Paul, Peter - a friend of Paul - and I set down at a "cafe". When the first buses arrived, most passengers started to run, scrambling for position and fighting to get in line. Police was at the scene quickly to keep somewhat of an order! It was surreal. I am glad that Peter and Paul stayed relaxed. We kept sitting in the shade, while most passengers now had to wait in the baking sun. The boarding process took forever and not all buses had arrived yet. We watched as the police kept shuffling "line cutters" out of the queues. Even local TV decided it was worth a story! It was fun to watch several hundred stooges make fools of themselves. Then a bus parked somewhere else and we decided to go for that one. There was already a line, but we managed to get in, albeit with a lot of work. Other people kept pushing in from the side. Fortunately this turned out to be a bus that also had many police officers already boarded. I had noticed them in the train earlier, and they kept things somewhat at bay, though I am not sure that even we cut some people off, simply by trying to prevent others in cutting and following police orders on how to get into the bus.
Once inside I had to fight through towards the end of the bus with my overly wide backpack. People started putting baskets filled with chicken everywhere in the aisle. I sure hope they remembered which baskets were theirs, for the chickens all sounded and looked the same! I felt like I had just managed to fight through the front row of a Metallica concert. I was soaked in sweat, but as I sat I had a big grin on my face, seeing all the pushing and shoving and the chickens and roosters in baskets, some trying to hop out. After all what I just had witnessed was super comical and something not pat of any main stream tourist program.
We finally left, after a four-hour wait and with three hours left to Dar. The train wouldn't have been slower. There was a moment when everybody got up and looked to the right. Aha, checking out the freight train wreckage. I was amazed, btw, that our train didn't derail. Frequently it was bouncing up and down so much I thought we were going over speed bumps!
All the police personal on the bus didn't help and we got weighed along the route. Fortunately we passed - thank goodness those chickens were all malnourished.
The traffic in Dar was like LA. Sometimes we stood for minutes w/o moving. Maybe the train would have been even faster in the end...
Monday, 21 January 2008
Game drive without play time
After enough people had told me about how incredible those driving safaris are and not wanting to spend the extra money for the activity safaris (still not sure why a mountain bike safari, which involves less gas, is supposed to be more expensive...) Sylvie and I headed west to see some big animals.
While seeing an elephant from a few metres away or a lion lying in the grass (is that where they got their name from???) is certainly impressive, the overall experience was a bit mixed. It's not black and white like a zebra – I can't say I hated the experience. But I really thought there would be a stop sometimes to step out of the car and enjoy the views. Instead, I think I spent more hours in a car in two days than in all of 2007...
That made it a bit of a drag for me. So for me the wildlife moment that stands out is still Meru, when we saw a giraffe while walking down the hill. Even if it was farther away (maybe 70-80 metres) it was ultimately a much more down-to-earth feeling than an elephant five metres away, observed within a can of steel. Even the canoe tour on Lake Duluti that Sylvie and I did the day before was more relaxing and enjoyable for me, without seeing any of the big five wildlife. The big five is five of those must-see animals during a safari. I don't even know which ones they are – I assume lions, elephants and leopards are among them. It seems a bit of a trophy thing and I guess I just enjoy more the whole experience.
And of course at least in that regard the Ngorongoro crater was cool. It offered stunning views from above and inside. The drive back up was beautiful through the tropical rain forest. On the top we (finally!!!) stopped at a vista point and saw the rain clouds to the right, the little forest in the foreground to the left and the wide open meadows behind. The number of zebras and buffaloes are mind-boggling.
But maybe my highlight was the lunch break at a little pond, stepping out and watching the birds and trees. While the latter were somewhat calm, the birds were very aggressive, stealing the lunches (including Sylvies's) out of the tourists' hands! We all retreated to the car and fortunately I am quick eater and got to spend some more time outside. I was almost mad when they all wanted to continue...
I think another big minus was our tour guide, who talked about five sentences in two days ("Here is a variety of birds," and the obvious "This is the crater," among them). I got more valuable info from Sylvie than from him.
We went with this company b/c the roaming Aussies had told us about it. They warned us about the pitfalls with the company but overall still had a great time, a great cook and very good driver and tour guide, who explained everything very well. So we decided to bank on that. The cook was OK and on the plus side we didn't have any leftovers, but the breakfast and second lunch was hardly enough for me and I was glad I brought some cookies. And the driver drove well, but his second duty, tour guide, left to be desired, to put it politely.
On the bright side it was substantially cheaper than some of the other companies that LP recommended, so it's OK. Shidolya (or however they are spelled) has a lousy office that will just lie about anything – something that I hadn't encountered here in this form. I'll pick one example: If you pay with travellers's checks they make you sign them but then try to pass them on to the Ngorongoro park officials. And then they refuse to cash them, because they are already signed, which makes sense. We knew this from the Aussies. So initially we refused to sign them in the office. Then the guy came back after supposedly talking to his manager and said "No problem, we pay cash at the entrance." Of course when we got to the gate they paid with TC and a 15-minute standoff ensued.
Oh, and this is the traffic jam in the park – another reason why I am not too fond of the experience. There is a lot of dust and pollution created.
Went for a short run this morning, which felt really nice after sitting for two days straight. There is a nice loop close to the Moshi airport. Tons of school kids were already out, walking or running to school. Isn't that a little early? Actually saw a local running, too. I followed him for a while (with a growing gap; I could have held his pace at five in the afternoon but not at 6:30 in the morning!), but then he made a sharp turn. I decided to continue straight, which "landed" me on the runway. Ooops.
While seeing an elephant from a few metres away or a lion lying in the grass (is that where they got their name from???) is certainly impressive, the overall experience was a bit mixed. It's not black and white like a zebra – I can't say I hated the experience. But I really thought there would be a stop sometimes to step out of the car and enjoy the views. Instead, I think I spent more hours in a car in two days than in all of 2007...
That made it a bit of a drag for me. So for me the wildlife moment that stands out is still Meru, when we saw a giraffe while walking down the hill. Even if it was farther away (maybe 70-80 metres) it was ultimately a much more down-to-earth feeling than an elephant five metres away, observed within a can of steel. Even the canoe tour on Lake Duluti that Sylvie and I did the day before was more relaxing and enjoyable for me, without seeing any of the big five wildlife. The big five is five of those must-see animals during a safari. I don't even know which ones they are – I assume lions, elephants and leopards are among them. It seems a bit of a trophy thing and I guess I just enjoy more the whole experience.
And of course at least in that regard the Ngorongoro crater was cool. It offered stunning views from above and inside. The drive back up was beautiful through the tropical rain forest. On the top we (finally!!!) stopped at a vista point and saw the rain clouds to the right, the little forest in the foreground to the left and the wide open meadows behind. The number of zebras and buffaloes are mind-boggling.
But maybe my highlight was the lunch break at a little pond, stepping out and watching the birds and trees. While the latter were somewhat calm, the birds were very aggressive, stealing the lunches (including Sylvies's) out of the tourists' hands! We all retreated to the car and fortunately I am quick eater and got to spend some more time outside. I was almost mad when they all wanted to continue...
I think another big minus was our tour guide, who talked about five sentences in two days ("Here is a variety of birds," and the obvious "This is the crater," among them). I got more valuable info from Sylvie than from him.
We went with this company b/c the roaming Aussies had told us about it. They warned us about the pitfalls with the company but overall still had a great time, a great cook and very good driver and tour guide, who explained everything very well. So we decided to bank on that. The cook was OK and on the plus side we didn't have any leftovers, but the breakfast and second lunch was hardly enough for me and I was glad I brought some cookies. And the driver drove well, but his second duty, tour guide, left to be desired, to put it politely.
On the bright side it was substantially cheaper than some of the other companies that LP recommended, so it's OK. Shidolya (or however they are spelled) has a lousy office that will just lie about anything – something that I hadn't encountered here in this form. I'll pick one example: If you pay with travellers's checks they make you sign them but then try to pass them on to the Ngorongoro park officials. And then they refuse to cash them, because they are already signed, which makes sense. We knew this from the Aussies. So initially we refused to sign them in the office. Then the guy came back after supposedly talking to his manager and said "No problem, we pay cash at the entrance." Of course when we got to the gate they paid with TC and a 15-minute standoff ensued.
Oh, and this is the traffic jam in the park – another reason why I am not too fond of the experience. There is a lot of dust and pollution created.
Went for a short run this morning, which felt really nice after sitting for two days straight. There is a nice loop close to the Moshi airport. Tons of school kids were already out, walking or running to school. Isn't that a little early? Actually saw a local running, too. I followed him for a while (with a growing gap; I could have held his pace at five in the afternoon but not at 6:30 in the morning!), but then he made a sharp turn. I decided to continue straight, which "landed" me on the runway. Ooops.
The big poopers
My translator Mr. Mfinanga is a really nice guy and very helpful. But sometimes he does give me a little mini-crisis. When we are about to leave or something needs to be done it is not uncommon that he vanishes into thin air. The KIDT campus isn't all that big and I never know how he manages to disappear – it is almost like David Copperfield is at work. Well, maybe next time I will check the women's bathroom, too.
Anyway, yesterday evening we came back from Himo and I had to run to an internet cafe. I needed to check my email in order to figure out today's program. I didn't get the email from one of the guys in Arusha, so I went to tell Mfinanga we can go ahead to Marangu tomorrow. Well, he was nowhere to be found! I had already told him we should meet at 8am at my hotel if the Arusha plan doesn't work out. But the next morning I didn't see him, either. So went by myself, which actually worked out well.
I went to see one of the biggest (it may actually be *the* biggest) biogas plants in all of Tanzania. I talked to a guy who, together with other Tanzanians, went to Rwanda after the 94 genocide. They helped get biogas running and transferred the knowledge to Rwandans. Since within Tanzania people/companies are less likely to transfer knowledge to others (out of fear of losing market share) Rwanda has now passed Tanzania with biogas projects, according to this guy (Robert). He also invited me to see their projects in South Western Tanzania. He said his company would pay for the airline ticket! I am not sure if I have the time and the flight would be from Dar es Salaam. But to Dar I want to go anyway, so maybe I can combine it into a screwed-up four day trip. I may even get to see Lake Tanganyika (world's longest lake at 670km). It sounds tempting even though I generally don't like unnecessary flying for environmental reasons (at this point there is no way to get there and back by bus). I am also not particularly thrilled about flying with an airline I never heard of, but at least "Precision Air" sounds like they will get you on target.
I also finally got to see the HEM Project office in Himo. This is where COMPACT used top have their office, but they moved to Moshi about a month or so before I came. Frankly, I am glad I am in Moshi rather than Himo. It's pretty small and doesn't look like there is a whole lot to do, except for going up to Marangu.
Anyway, yesterday evening we came back from Himo and I had to run to an internet cafe. I needed to check my email in order to figure out today's program. I didn't get the email from one of the guys in Arusha, so I went to tell Mfinanga we can go ahead to Marangu tomorrow. Well, he was nowhere to be found! I had already told him we should meet at 8am at my hotel if the Arusha plan doesn't work out. But the next morning I didn't see him, either. So went by myself, which actually worked out well.
I went to see one of the biggest (it may actually be *the* biggest) biogas plants in all of Tanzania. I talked to a guy who, together with other Tanzanians, went to Rwanda after the 94 genocide. They helped get biogas running and transferred the knowledge to Rwandans. Since within Tanzania people/companies are less likely to transfer knowledge to others (out of fear of losing market share) Rwanda has now passed Tanzania with biogas projects, according to this guy (Robert). He also invited me to see their projects in South Western Tanzania. He said his company would pay for the airline ticket! I am not sure if I have the time and the flight would be from Dar es Salaam. But to Dar I want to go anyway, so maybe I can combine it into a screwed-up four day trip. I may even get to see Lake Tanganyika (world's longest lake at 670km). It sounds tempting even though I generally don't like unnecessary flying for environmental reasons (at this point there is no way to get there and back by bus). I am also not particularly thrilled about flying with an airline I never heard of, but at least "Precision Air" sounds like they will get you on target.
I also finally got to see the HEM Project office in Himo. This is where COMPACT used top have their office, but they moved to Moshi about a month or so before I came. Frankly, I am glad I am in Moshi rather than Himo. It's pretty small and doesn't look like there is a whole lot to do, except for going up to Marangu.
Saturday, 19 January 2008
Underground Lake
After hopes of a night game drive were dashed due to timing, Sylvie and I settled for a nice canoe tour on Lake Duluti (Underground lake). Despite its name there was plenty of water above ground, but it is true that the lake went downhill whichever way you went, so paddling was easy. We saw lots of birds and something that Sylvie said was some kind of water lizard. I don't know, to me it looked like a kind of creature from a science fiction movie. It was at least 20 metres long – well, I am guessing here as parts of the body were underwater. It was quite amazing, though.
Today we are heading off for a more leisurely, typical drive safari. The more action oriented ones (canoeing, walking, biking) turned out to be even pricier. Tanzania is not a good country if you want to save money....
One funny note on the trial yesterday. The witness made it really hard on the judge, but when he was released he did wish him a happy New Year (January 18!). He also said to use his testimony, but not his previous statements (you know, lack of food).
After some babbling the judge said something to the affect that the next witness will be sworn in, but that nobody should worry that they will actually pose any questions. By then, everybody was tired and this being a Friday, where usually trials are not held, wanted to go home.
Today we are heading off for a more leisurely, typical drive safari. The more action oriented ones (canoeing, walking, biking) turned out to be even pricier. Tanzania is not a good country if you want to save money....
One funny note on the trial yesterday. The witness made it really hard on the judge, but when he was released he did wish him a happy New Year (January 18!). He also said to use his testimony, but not his previous statements (you know, lack of food).
After some babbling the judge said something to the affect that the next witness will be sworn in, but that nobody should worry that they will actually pose any questions. By then, everybody was tired and this being a Friday, where usually trials are not held, wanted to go home.
Friday, 18 January 2008
Chimes of Freedom
My friend Sylvie, who has been on major wildlife safaris since last year, has arrived in Arusha and we ran into the Aussie couple I met in Dar es Salaam a week ago. They had attended the Rwanda war crimes tribunal. I had heard about those and today seemed a good day to go. It was a highly interesting to see the judges, defense and prosecution. I swear, the one observer looked just like John Grisham...
The witness was someone who had spent a lot of time in prison already. I can't really describe the feeling when someone tells a court: "Yes, I have killed." It's haunting. But the witness is hoping that the instigator of the crimes will be convicted (forgot the name, but some kind of priest, of all people). The defense is trying the opposite and the witness was doing everything to derail them. Simple Yes/No questions would draw a long response that was either claiming he already answered the question before or that his previous statements given in courts in Rwanda were incomplete due to lack of food. In fact, at some point he told the defense that he (a Mzungu, as was the judge, btw) had forgotten something, despite all the food he gets to eat...
The defense lawyer seemed as bit disorganized and some of his questions I didn't know how we wanted to prove anything. But the prosecutor was not much better. At some point he mentioned something about witnesses being contacted on the 28th of May, 2007. The, only moments later, he tried to repeat the statement. Even I could still remember the date, but he didn't. So he was looking through his notes for a good dozen seconds before finally continuing. The judge asked him if there was anything new, not quite clear why the statement was repeated. The prosecutor tried to explain it a third time, prompting the judge to stop him with an impatiently "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes!"
The language was a mix. The prosecutor spoke French, the defense and judge english, the witness in his native language. We were seated behind a glass window, seeing everyone but the witness (he was hidden by curtains). We had headphones. Channel 0 had the original, channel 1 the engl. translation when necessary.
It's hard to believe the trials started shortly after the genocides, in Nov 1994!
Justice is slow, but eventually it will prevail. I found out yesterday that Roseville's (California) city council has approved removal of "Bikes prohibited" signs at a couple of underpasses. They were up there in violation of California traffic code.
Get up, stand up!
Get up for your right!
Get up, stand up, don't give up to fight!
The witness was someone who had spent a lot of time in prison already. I can't really describe the feeling when someone tells a court: "Yes, I have killed." It's haunting. But the witness is hoping that the instigator of the crimes will be convicted (forgot the name, but some kind of priest, of all people). The defense is trying the opposite and the witness was doing everything to derail them. Simple Yes/No questions would draw a long response that was either claiming he already answered the question before or that his previous statements given in courts in Rwanda were incomplete due to lack of food. In fact, at some point he told the defense that he (a Mzungu, as was the judge, btw) had forgotten something, despite all the food he gets to eat...
The defense lawyer seemed as bit disorganized and some of his questions I didn't know how we wanted to prove anything. But the prosecutor was not much better. At some point he mentioned something about witnesses being contacted on the 28th of May, 2007. The, only moments later, he tried to repeat the statement. Even I could still remember the date, but he didn't. So he was looking through his notes for a good dozen seconds before finally continuing. The judge asked him if there was anything new, not quite clear why the statement was repeated. The prosecutor tried to explain it a third time, prompting the judge to stop him with an impatiently "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes!"
The language was a mix. The prosecutor spoke French, the defense and judge english, the witness in his native language. We were seated behind a glass window, seeing everyone but the witness (he was hidden by curtains). We had headphones. Channel 0 had the original, channel 1 the engl. translation when necessary.
It's hard to believe the trials started shortly after the genocides, in Nov 1994!
Justice is slow, but eventually it will prevail. I found out yesterday that Roseville's (California) city council has approved removal of "Bikes prohibited" signs at a couple of underpasses. They were up there in violation of California traffic code.
Get up, stand up!
Get up for your right!
Get up, stand up, don't give up to fight!
Monday, 14 January 2008
"Hey, where is your bike?"
Ok, that was amazing. After having traveled for almost three weeks I came back to Moshi. I had returned the bicycle, with yet another flat tire added, to the shop owner before my trip. So I had to walk to KIDT (I had gotten up too late to take the KIDT bus...). Now that I moved to a different place (somewhat downtown) the walk takes less than 30 minutes, so no problem. I was already almost there when I heard someone yell out: "Hey, where is your bike?" I turned my head and saw a dude sitting in a wooden booth. I have noticed the booth before but never saw someone in there. I didn't recognize the man and certainly never spoke to him before. I was somewhat puzzled that he knew I was always riding the bicycle before. I just answered "it's in the shop..."
Even Hasimi (in the centre, with the black T-Shirt), a kid that I met Saturday on my way to KIDT, asked me about my bicycle. Apparently, riding through town at whirlwind speeds left more of an impression with people than I thought. Next time I'll come here I definitely will have to run a LAB Bike Safety Class!
I get my exercise again by running. I went for a nice jog Sunday morning (90 minutes), making it three runs in as many days.
Running is a bit harder, as in the city people make fun of me running around (like running in weird, exaggerated movements). Also, I had a hard time the first day. Maybe it was the lack of exercise in the two and a half weeks I was travelling or maybe it's all the dust I was swallowing in the last two months that is clogging my lungs. But today I went for 90 minutes, one of the longest runs I have done in a long time.
Even Hasimi (in the centre, with the black T-Shirt), a kid that I met Saturday on my way to KIDT, asked me about my bicycle. Apparently, riding through town at whirlwind speeds left more of an impression with people than I thought. Next time I'll come here I definitely will have to run a LAB Bike Safety Class!
I get my exercise again by running. I went for a nice jog Sunday morning (90 minutes), making it three runs in as many days.
Running is a bit harder, as in the city people make fun of me running around (like running in weird, exaggerated movements). Also, I had a hard time the first day. Maybe it was the lack of exercise in the two and a half weeks I was travelling or maybe it's all the dust I was swallowing in the last two months that is clogging my lungs. But today I went for 90 minutes, one of the longest runs I have done in a long time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)