Today is my last day on the horticulture project. It’s time to come to a close on my work on the mparachichi (avocado), nyanya (tomato), and nanasi (pineapple). We've had a good run.
We will hear soon enough if we win the USAID contract (fingers crossed!) – and if so, the hard work of implementation will launch in October. October will be just before tomato and pineapple harvest, so a huge opportunity exists for TNS to engage effectively with farmers during one their riskiest times of year.
To anyone who read my blog occasionally, thank you. I have enjoyed sharing my thoughts in this way – my only goal was to avoid a daily diary and instead offer color commentary.
My parents arrive tonight and we depart for the Northern Circuit of game parks in the morning before spending a few days on Zanzibar. I am excited to travel to new parts of Tanzania with them and I have no doubt this will be a welcomed break from the mean streets of Lagos.
I will not miss:
- The sound of someone sweeping dirt
- Power outages / water outages / general outages
- The smell of burning trash when its plastic
- How 60% of my diet is typically carbohydrates
- Negotiating with taxi drivers when trying to go home – then realizing you are arguing over $1-2 – well, you are actually arguing over principle
I will miss:
- The satisfaction and excitement that occurs when the power or water comes back on, even though you had nothing to do with fixing the problem
- The smell of burning trash when its not nasty; oddly enough, its the aroma of developing countries :)
- Bongoflava tunes
- 80s aerobics classes and general jazzercise at the gym
- Road tunes solo singing by Deo
- HUGE avocados for $0.40
- Untouched Tanzanian countryside
- The sight of a daladala zooming by overloaded with people
In an understatement, I’ve been lucky and I have enjoyed an incredible summer.
I will return to Tanzania in some way in the future – whether or not I make my fortunes in avocado export or help to build the private sector in another way, this is an incredible place. I hope Tanzania continues to stay under the radar but also fights to become less dependent on foreign aid and more reliant upon itself.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Dar Goat Races 2009: Meeting and Exceeding Expectations
It’s not often you can hold the bar high in Dar. However, today we did and the goats valiantly jumped over.
Most races were really won in the final "sprinting" stretch of the track
At the start / finish line -- almost like standing on Boylston at Fairfield for the Boston marathon
The Dar Goat Races attracted the most mzungus I’ve seen since I left Boston. And that’s saying something. It was shocking. It was also surprising how ‘normal’ this event felt; you entered to purchase tickets, you got a wrist-band, there were concessions surrounding a large race track. It made sense. That should not go under-appreciated.
Controlling race corruption and betting collusion :)
Each race is sponsored by a major company – and each goat is sponsored by a team of local residents. Costumes were encouraged. Goat names were required for goat registration. As a result, the public could bet a minimum 2,000 TSH (about USD $1.30) per race to cheer on your winner with hopes to share in the reward prizes.
Fashion inspired by the Derby, with African flair
In my first bet, I placed money on Lamb-sagne. He was the underdog, but did not pull through. The next race? O-baaaaa-ma. Apparently the goat named “Ndio, tunaweza” (Kiswahili: "Yes, we can!") raced before we arrived.
The Obama Kanga fabric transformed well to Race attire
Keeping it classy with Jenna and CJ between races
The "Goat-busters" earned points for creativity and for staying in costume despite the heat!
Cashing in for charity!
The inter-race rivalry among the goats was strongly felt even from the sidelines
While none of the goats I picked to win were victorious (who would have thought Hannah Goat-annah would be the dark horse victor in race 3?), this event made the day. While the Kentucky Derby is quite an affair, the Dar Goat Races are a close second!
Most races were really won in the final "sprinting" stretch of the track
At the start / finish line -- almost like standing on Boylston at Fairfield for the Boston marathon
The Dar Goat Races attracted the most mzungus I’ve seen since I left Boston. And that’s saying something. It was shocking. It was also surprising how ‘normal’ this event felt; you entered to purchase tickets, you got a wrist-band, there were concessions surrounding a large race track. It made sense. That should not go under-appreciated.
Controlling race corruption and betting collusion :)
Each race is sponsored by a major company – and each goat is sponsored by a team of local residents. Costumes were encouraged. Goat names were required for goat registration. As a result, the public could bet a minimum 2,000 TSH (about USD $1.30) per race to cheer on your winner with hopes to share in the reward prizes.
Fashion inspired by the Derby, with African flair
In my first bet, I placed money on Lamb-sagne. He was the underdog, but did not pull through. The next race? O-baaaaa-ma. Apparently the goat named “Ndio, tunaweza” (Kiswahili: "Yes, we can!") raced before we arrived.
The Obama Kanga fabric transformed well to Race attire
Keeping it classy with Jenna and CJ between races
The "Goat-busters" earned points for creativity and for staying in costume despite the heat!
Cashing in for charity!
The inter-race rivalry among the goats was strongly felt even from the sidelines
While none of the goats I picked to win were victorious (who would have thought Hannah Goat-annah would be the dark horse victor in race 3?), this event made the day. While the Kentucky Derby is quite an affair, the Dar Goat Races are a close second!
It’s a Good Thing We Are Not Too Close to the Game Park
Before leaving Morogoro, I spent the day finalizing some vegetable cost of production data with some farmers in the mountain-top village of Mgeta. I was again caught off-guard with colder temperatures upon arriving to speak with district officials. However, the real surprise occurred on the return down the mountain.
As we came down a steeper, unpaved stretch, the car stopped. Engine died. Deo turned the key and it would start, but not kick over. Although he quickly identified this as an electrical problem, there was no quick solution. This happened around 1:30PM.
With the car hood raised, blocking traffic along the narrow passageway, we attracted attention. As daladalas and open trucks passed by with Tanzanians barely holding on or packed in like sardines, each car would pause to check on the status of our mishap. Occasionally a small crowd of men would hop off, give the proverbial “stare” at the serpentine arrangement of wires and parts surrounding the engine, and wish us luck.
Around 3PM, I fell asleep in the front seat. I woke up around 5PM with no improvement in situation. As the sky started to signal the transition towards evening, our options started to narrow. With darkness falling before 6:30PM, I started to think we might want to get in the next daladala to return to town – or, even prepare to sleep in the car. At this point, I was also about to breach the 12 hour mark past breakfast, my only other meal of the day. Deo, the driver, and Mr. Kapera, the district extension officer who accompanied us on our trip, started to show signs of frustration.
However, at 6:10PM help arrived! Another TNS staff member and a fundi gari (car repair man) came by truck to assess the situation. As the fundi got to work, I learned more about the other TNS employee, my hero of-the-moment. As we spoke, he continued to cut and chew portions of a long piece of sugar cane. Tanzanian sugar cane is fibrous, has a stringy interior and you chew like gum. I had not yet tried it and decided to ease my hunger.
Apparently, my asking for some sugar cane is the equivalent of a girl asking for a wad of Copenhagen chewing tobacco to place inside her lip. The look of surprise and confusion faded to acquiescence and amusement as the small crowd and TNS staff watched as I tore off a portion to try.
In short, it’s not good.
At this point, darkness was falling. The spark plug had been identified as the main culprit of car failure, but we were not yet in the clear. At this point, I was still chewing my way through poor-tasting sugar cane when the TNS team member remarked, “Well, at least we are far enough away from the game parks, because its dinner time!”
Before long, the fuse was replaced and we resumed our slow crawl down the steep mountain. While being stranded on the road is usually frustrating, often creates the opportunity for adventure, and always happens when you do not expect it, it’s not often you might be confused as an unsuspecting appetizer or meal for game park animals!
As we came down a steeper, unpaved stretch, the car stopped. Engine died. Deo turned the key and it would start, but not kick over. Although he quickly identified this as an electrical problem, there was no quick solution. This happened around 1:30PM.
With the car hood raised, blocking traffic along the narrow passageway, we attracted attention. As daladalas and open trucks passed by with Tanzanians barely holding on or packed in like sardines, each car would pause to check on the status of our mishap. Occasionally a small crowd of men would hop off, give the proverbial “stare” at the serpentine arrangement of wires and parts surrounding the engine, and wish us luck.
Around 3PM, I fell asleep in the front seat. I woke up around 5PM with no improvement in situation. As the sky started to signal the transition towards evening, our options started to narrow. With darkness falling before 6:30PM, I started to think we might want to get in the next daladala to return to town – or, even prepare to sleep in the car. At this point, I was also about to breach the 12 hour mark past breakfast, my only other meal of the day. Deo, the driver, and Mr. Kapera, the district extension officer who accompanied us on our trip, started to show signs of frustration.
However, at 6:10PM help arrived! Another TNS staff member and a fundi gari (car repair man) came by truck to assess the situation. As the fundi got to work, I learned more about the other TNS employee, my hero of-the-moment. As we spoke, he continued to cut and chew portions of a long piece of sugar cane. Tanzanian sugar cane is fibrous, has a stringy interior and you chew like gum. I had not yet tried it and decided to ease my hunger.
Apparently, my asking for some sugar cane is the equivalent of a girl asking for a wad of Copenhagen chewing tobacco to place inside her lip. The look of surprise and confusion faded to acquiescence and amusement as the small crowd and TNS staff watched as I tore off a portion to try.
In short, it’s not good.
At this point, darkness was falling. The spark plug had been identified as the main culprit of car failure, but we were not yet in the clear. At this point, I was still chewing my way through poor-tasting sugar cane when the TNS team member remarked, “Well, at least we are far enough away from the game parks, because its dinner time!”
Before long, the fuse was replaced and we resumed our slow crawl down the steep mountain. While being stranded on the road is usually frustrating, often creates the opportunity for adventure, and always happens when you do not expect it, it’s not often you might be confused as an unsuspecting appetizer or meal for game park animals!
Pineapple: A Fruit That Takes More Than It Gives
During the last stop on my grand jaunt, pineapple became the fruit of focus. Morogoro region is located at the foothills of the Uluguru Mountains. The elevated terrain creates a climate ideal for pineapple production – little to no irrigation or pesticides needed – but also results in precarious driving conditions along unpaved, bumpy dirt roads.
That said, as our 4x4 adroitly navigated the pathways up to villages in Matombo, Myuguni, and Kinole – the question remains: how do you transport anything without assuming 50% losses just due to road conditions alone?
First arriving to the village of Kiswira, I met with famers who shared this concern. Due to poor road conditions, they rely on buyers arriving to town with empty trucks. As a result, the price offered leaves little room for negotiation and famers often sell below value – and even below cost of production. However, little options for alternatives exist.
Go Longhorns!! (Amazing!)
First stop on the Kiswira Home & Garden Tour
I suspect she does well in price negotiations
After our meeting, the pineapple farmers walked with me to show me a nearby pineapple plot – and another where orange trees are integrated with pineapple. Pineapple requires space for its leaves to fan, but little else. In this region, pineapple can grow to decent size with little to no irrigation, fertilizer, or pesticides. However, unlike citrus trees, which require the same land mass – the pineapple produces a single, or at most, a few fruits. Price does not reward exclusivity in production volume. While the Matombo region is renowned for its “Matombo Sweet” orange variety – with buyers arriving from Kenya to truck back supply – the pineapple is the unfavored child of local production.
Pineapple Glamour Shot
While I learned much from speaking with farmers in the field and professors at Sokoinne University of Agriculture – the resounding message was clear: find us stronger connections to markets. This, of course, is easier said than done.
That said, as our 4x4 adroitly navigated the pathways up to villages in Matombo, Myuguni, and Kinole – the question remains: how do you transport anything without assuming 50% losses just due to road conditions alone?
First arriving to the village of Kiswira, I met with famers who shared this concern. Due to poor road conditions, they rely on buyers arriving to town with empty trucks. As a result, the price offered leaves little room for negotiation and famers often sell below value – and even below cost of production. However, little options for alternatives exist.
Go Longhorns!! (Amazing!)
First stop on the Kiswira Home & Garden Tour
I suspect she does well in price negotiations
After our meeting, the pineapple farmers walked with me to show me a nearby pineapple plot – and another where orange trees are integrated with pineapple. Pineapple requires space for its leaves to fan, but little else. In this region, pineapple can grow to decent size with little to no irrigation, fertilizer, or pesticides. However, unlike citrus trees, which require the same land mass – the pineapple produces a single, or at most, a few fruits. Price does not reward exclusivity in production volume. While the Matombo region is renowned for its “Matombo Sweet” orange variety – with buyers arriving from Kenya to truck back supply – the pineapple is the unfavored child of local production.
Pineapple Glamour Shot
While I learned much from speaking with farmers in the field and professors at Sokoinne University of Agriculture – the resounding message was clear: find us stronger connections to markets. This, of course, is easier said than done.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The Nane Nane Spectacle: Kilimo Kwanza!
Nane Nane (Eight Eight) is a national showcase of agricultural wonderment. While a mainstay party in the capital of Dodoma and Morogoro region, another region is highlighted each year.
Mbeya certainly put on a show!
And people came in droves!
The Prime Minister was supposed to arrive at 9AM; he decided to enter at 11:30AM -- and after 50 minutes of introductions, thank-yous, singing, and general microphone chaos, he got started. He talked for an hour! I asked Deo what he was really saying...after listening particularly intently for a few more minutes, Deo said "He is praising agriculture and wants to do more for Tanzanian farmers." Simple enough, not sure that needed an hour, but it was the honor of the day for many.
Nice job, Pepsi, with the ad space!
However, after the politician glad-handing was over, the district officials returned to their individual buildings where local staff displayed grains, vegetables, crafts, etc. made in their district.
A special area for mbogas na matundas (vegetables and fruits), featuring the crowd favorite: mparachichi - the avocado!
I had a chance to speak with district officials that would have otherwise not been possible -- or required more road miles for scant information -- this was a very efficient way to collect information! The small city of Mbeya was overwhelmed with people traveling far on the daladalas; navigating our exit by car was worse than leaving the Houston rodeo, but it was a very good day to celebrate Tanzania!
Mbeya certainly put on a show!
And people came in droves!
The Prime Minister was supposed to arrive at 9AM; he decided to enter at 11:30AM -- and after 50 minutes of introductions, thank-yous, singing, and general microphone chaos, he got started. He talked for an hour! I asked Deo what he was really saying...after listening particularly intently for a few more minutes, Deo said "He is praising agriculture and wants to do more for Tanzanian farmers." Simple enough, not sure that needed an hour, but it was the honor of the day for many.
Nice job, Pepsi, with the ad space!
However, after the politician glad-handing was over, the district officials returned to their individual buildings where local staff displayed grains, vegetables, crafts, etc. made in their district.
A special area for mbogas na matundas (vegetables and fruits), featuring the crowd favorite: mparachichi - the avocado!
I had a chance to speak with district officials that would have otherwise not been possible -- or required more road miles for scant information -- this was a very efficient way to collect information! The small city of Mbeya was overwhelmed with people traveling far on the daladalas; navigating our exit by car was worse than leaving the Houston rodeo, but it was a very good day to celebrate Tanzania!
Why I Might Launch an Avocado Farm, and Perhaps You Should Too
I have a new hero. He’s from Zimbabwe – based on his timing in Tanzania, the unsaid story is that he likely lost his coffee farm due to the Zimbabwe political shenanigans. He’s now betting his new farm – literally – on my favorite green fruit. Captain Avocado has three young children, a friendly wife, a comfortable home on sprawling land, one huge dog, one small dog, and a donkey. He’s living the dream.
We headed out south to Rungwe, where he currently farms 80 h.a. His main crop is Hass avocado – and his plan is to grow his own and manage a network of smallholder farmers also growing Hass for export to Europe.
Avocados (and more) for as far as the eye can see in Tukuyu, TZ
Seedlings of future greatness
3 month old plant...it takes 2 years of growing to really get going
It sounds ridiculous until he explains the financial margins – severely in his favor.
It sounds ridiculous until he explains that smallholder farmers can earn more from avocado than possibly on any other crop in the area (tea, coffee).
It sounds ridiculous until you learn how low-maintenance the avocado is to grow.
It sounds ridiculous until you realize he has it all figured out.
Who knew the avocado market offered so much global drama? Apparently the Peruvians and South Africans have much of the export market locked up. Even the Spaniards currently fill a gap when Peru and RSA don’t have harvest – but Tanzania can really make its mark during a window of time where the profits favor both the Captain and the smallholder farmers who sell him their volumes. It’s a win-win.
A local farmer standing next to "green gold"
Global demand for “avos” (this is what the Zimbabwean calls his pet fruit, by the end of the day, so did I) is on the rise. Consumption has nearly tripled in three years in the US alone. I attribute this marked increase – without any research or confirmation – to a two-prong combination:
(1) the growing demand for the Wrights of Texas mild green salsa (avo is a key ingredient, I believe; www.wrightsoftexas.com – now available at Whole Foods across Texas) and
(2) our avo-loving, southern NAFTA neighbors who continue to enter the US at rapid rates and who are confirming the vast culinary differences between Tex-Mex fare and actual Mexican food. Thankfully, both Tex-Mex and Mexican foods hold the avocado in high esteem.
After touring his farm – where he’s also trying his hand at macadamia nuts, MD2 pineapples, and arabica coffee beans – this regular Renaissance man then traveled with us to visit some of the smallholder farmers also planting Hass avocados.
I now understand the basics of avocado grafting (attaching a Hass scion to the raised stem of a formerly local variety of avocado). Manure is the fertilizer of choice – keeping it au natural. And the volcanic soil – black in nature and improved through composting – is ideal for planting.
Growing these avos on the sides of rolling mountain ridges did provoke my inquiry on grapes – apparently there’s too much precipitation during the rainy season of late April / May. That said, I had a prospective winery in mind for most of the day until I finally asked about it.
When I moved to Boston in 2004, I called my mother a few times during my first weeks in New England, with sticker shock. The New England “price premium” on everyday goods – compared to Texas prices for groceries, gasoline, etc. was frustrating – both in that I had to pay more for the same item, but more so that no one around me shared this frustration. That was before I realized that speaking to strangers in public places, commonplace in Texas, is a social faux pas in New England. :)
However, I particularly remember calling her from Shaw’s supermarket to complain about the inflamed price of Hass avocados. I now have a new appreciation for what it takes to get one of these green gems out of Africa and on a plane, train, or automobile to the US and Euro markets.
We headed out south to Rungwe, where he currently farms 80 h.a. His main crop is Hass avocado – and his plan is to grow his own and manage a network of smallholder farmers also growing Hass for export to Europe.
Avocados (and more) for as far as the eye can see in Tukuyu, TZ
Seedlings of future greatness
3 month old plant...it takes 2 years of growing to really get going
It sounds ridiculous until he explains the financial margins – severely in his favor.
It sounds ridiculous until he explains that smallholder farmers can earn more from avocado than possibly on any other crop in the area (tea, coffee).
It sounds ridiculous until you learn how low-maintenance the avocado is to grow.
It sounds ridiculous until you realize he has it all figured out.
Who knew the avocado market offered so much global drama? Apparently the Peruvians and South Africans have much of the export market locked up. Even the Spaniards currently fill a gap when Peru and RSA don’t have harvest – but Tanzania can really make its mark during a window of time where the profits favor both the Captain and the smallholder farmers who sell him their volumes. It’s a win-win.
A local farmer standing next to "green gold"
Global demand for “avos” (this is what the Zimbabwean calls his pet fruit, by the end of the day, so did I) is on the rise. Consumption has nearly tripled in three years in the US alone. I attribute this marked increase – without any research or confirmation – to a two-prong combination:
(1) the growing demand for the Wrights of Texas mild green salsa (avo is a key ingredient, I believe; www.wrightsoftexas.com – now available at Whole Foods across Texas) and
(2) our avo-loving, southern NAFTA neighbors who continue to enter the US at rapid rates and who are confirming the vast culinary differences between Tex-Mex fare and actual Mexican food. Thankfully, both Tex-Mex and Mexican foods hold the avocado in high esteem.
After touring his farm – where he’s also trying his hand at macadamia nuts, MD2 pineapples, and arabica coffee beans – this regular Renaissance man then traveled with us to visit some of the smallholder farmers also planting Hass avocados.
I now understand the basics of avocado grafting (attaching a Hass scion to the raised stem of a formerly local variety of avocado). Manure is the fertilizer of choice – keeping it au natural. And the volcanic soil – black in nature and improved through composting – is ideal for planting.
Growing these avos on the sides of rolling mountain ridges did provoke my inquiry on grapes – apparently there’s too much precipitation during the rainy season of late April / May. That said, I had a prospective winery in mind for most of the day until I finally asked about it.
When I moved to Boston in 2004, I called my mother a few times during my first weeks in New England, with sticker shock. The New England “price premium” on everyday goods – compared to Texas prices for groceries, gasoline, etc. was frustrating – both in that I had to pay more for the same item, but more so that no one around me shared this frustration. That was before I realized that speaking to strangers in public places, commonplace in Texas, is a social faux pas in New England. :)
However, I particularly remember calling her from Shaw’s supermarket to complain about the inflamed price of Hass avocados. I now have a new appreciation for what it takes to get one of these green gems out of Africa and on a plane, train, or automobile to the US and Euro markets.
Mount Livingstone Hotel
It’s not fancy. Nor should it have to be. The name is a cute nod to Mr. Livingstone, which I presume (pun not intended) is due to proximity to Zambia, nothing more. However, it should be noted that thus far, the power goes out for about 45 minutes to an hour twice nightly, with about 2 hours between each outage. That’s fine because that’s part of the deal of living in Africa. The odd thing is the response.
Each time this has happened – and that’s three nights running like clockwork – everyone acts surprised. Alternatively, I see a pattern. I see so much of a pattern that if I were running this place, I would have one of the staff standing next to the generator at 7:10PM each night. It would just make more sense to kick it on faster. I truly believe it takes 45 minutes for someone to receive the order to turn on the generator, to navigate darkness to find it in the area behind the hotel, to check if there’s enough diesel to operate, and to flip the switch.
That said, tonight I was transcribing my notes from farmer interviews into Excel spreadsheets and Powerpoint slides (fun! consulting! hooray!) – and sat in total darkness with about 10 other people in the hotel’s café during both patterned power outages. The lights went out and my laptop screen served as the single luminary. It was sorta odd how conversation halted the entire black-out – the same stillness and hanging anticipation as during the “heads down, thumbs up” part of the 7Up elementary school classroom game. The room then sprung to life again when the power restored.
While odd, I can’t complain. Apparently in Dar, the main power supplier, Tenesco, is replacing two of the electrical power stations on the Peninsula. Instead of switching the supply required from those grids to others nearby or offering some other alternative, there will be frequent, if not constant, outages for the next 5-7 days in Dar. Nice job, Tenesco. That makes a lot of sense. It’s a good thing to be on the road!
Each time this has happened – and that’s three nights running like clockwork – everyone acts surprised. Alternatively, I see a pattern. I see so much of a pattern that if I were running this place, I would have one of the staff standing next to the generator at 7:10PM each night. It would just make more sense to kick it on faster. I truly believe it takes 45 minutes for someone to receive the order to turn on the generator, to navigate darkness to find it in the area behind the hotel, to check if there’s enough diesel to operate, and to flip the switch.
That said, tonight I was transcribing my notes from farmer interviews into Excel spreadsheets and Powerpoint slides (fun! consulting! hooray!) – and sat in total darkness with about 10 other people in the hotel’s café during both patterned power outages. The lights went out and my laptop screen served as the single luminary. It was sorta odd how conversation halted the entire black-out – the same stillness and hanging anticipation as during the “heads down, thumbs up” part of the 7Up elementary school classroom game. The room then sprung to life again when the power restored.
While odd, I can’t complain. Apparently in Dar, the main power supplier, Tenesco, is replacing two of the electrical power stations on the Peninsula. Instead of switching the supply required from those grids to others nearby or offering some other alternative, there will be frequent, if not constant, outages for the next 5-7 days in Dar. Nice job, Tenesco. That makes a lot of sense. It’s a good thing to be on the road!
Roadtrip to the Edges of Tanzania
During the 14-hour marathon road trip to Mbeya, the highlight was slowing to a stop while passing through Mikumi park as a lioness crossed the road! I was not fast enough with the camera, but she was also clearly on the move, appearing from tall, grassy brush on one side before disappearing to the same on the other! I took it as a good sign for this trip.
I couldnt even plan this if I tried. :)
Else, there were no major events of note. Thankfully, no tire blow-outs. No major traffic jams. No tragic traffic accidents on the roadside. One successful drop-off of large pineapples and other fruits to Deo’s (driver) brother. Even two cassette tapes of music to play repeatedly!
Colorful onion pyramids lined the roads on our trek south!
One of the images of my time in Tanzania I will remember most is from Chalinze. Chalinze is a town directly west of Dar – from there, you must choose your own adventure. North sends you towards Arusha and Mt. Kilimanjaro; South directs one to Morogoro, opening access to the southern highlands. Large coach buses stop in Chalinze as it is a major trade cross-roads for passenger on- and off-load, as well as re-fueling.
The main road through Chalinze serves as a gauntlet, each bus that stops is well-received by a throng of teenage boys and young men sprinting with full effort to sell a random selection of items, ranging from practical to the absurd. This vigor displayed towards each bus – each bus offering a new marketing opportunity – highlights entrepreneurialism far less demonstrated elsewhere in the country. While some might counter that their actions nearly infringe upon desperation, I do not think so. These are young men who have not yet left to try their fortune (or misfortune) in Dar and who have not yet chosen to join the other 80% of the nation’s population involved in agriculture. Instead, they are trying to make it on the margin – literally and figuratively – and their energy is admirable to observe. While Kenya is known for its runners, I wish the TZ government would host sprint trials out here – there’s some talent! The potential for profit – a glimmer of capitalism amidst an entrenched legacy of state socialism lingering from the 1970s – demonstrates a slow but emerging current of change towards a more economically thriving country.
After 13 hours in the car, the town of Mbeya just sorta happens. I might not have known we were here, versus another village along the way, except for the Castle Beer road marker, “Mbeya.” Thank you, South African imported alcohol, for your multi-purpose advertising. The striking aspect to this town is the tangible sense of movement.
Mbeya serves as the intersection of the TanZam railway (Tanzania-Zambia), as well as the last major stop on the freeway running north-south-ish across Tanzania. This creates a center of trade and transport – particularly in these days leading up to Nane Nane agricultural festival. Sadly, Mbeya also leads Tanzania with the highest incidence of HIV (18%), as a result of its location along this heavily traveled trade route. However, despite all the advantages and drawbacks from such movement, Mbeya offers some of the most beautiful vistas I have seen yet in Tanzania. The forested mountains crest into valleys full of light yellow maize fields – the scattered square-ish plots almost look European in their lay-out and residents continue to smile genuinely at strangers. Mbeya is known for its tea and coffee plantations – the fields of green plantings contrast distinctively from the multi-colored fabrics of those farmers and field hands picking the leaves and beans for harvest. While Mbeya lies on the border near Malawi and Zambia, it remains uniquely Tanzanian.
I couldnt even plan this if I tried. :)
Else, there were no major events of note. Thankfully, no tire blow-outs. No major traffic jams. No tragic traffic accidents on the roadside. One successful drop-off of large pineapples and other fruits to Deo’s (driver) brother. Even two cassette tapes of music to play repeatedly!
Colorful onion pyramids lined the roads on our trek south!
One of the images of my time in Tanzania I will remember most is from Chalinze. Chalinze is a town directly west of Dar – from there, you must choose your own adventure. North sends you towards Arusha and Mt. Kilimanjaro; South directs one to Morogoro, opening access to the southern highlands. Large coach buses stop in Chalinze as it is a major trade cross-roads for passenger on- and off-load, as well as re-fueling.
The main road through Chalinze serves as a gauntlet, each bus that stops is well-received by a throng of teenage boys and young men sprinting with full effort to sell a random selection of items, ranging from practical to the absurd. This vigor displayed towards each bus – each bus offering a new marketing opportunity – highlights entrepreneurialism far less demonstrated elsewhere in the country. While some might counter that their actions nearly infringe upon desperation, I do not think so. These are young men who have not yet left to try their fortune (or misfortune) in Dar and who have not yet chosen to join the other 80% of the nation’s population involved in agriculture. Instead, they are trying to make it on the margin – literally and figuratively – and their energy is admirable to observe. While Kenya is known for its runners, I wish the TZ government would host sprint trials out here – there’s some talent! The potential for profit – a glimmer of capitalism amidst an entrenched legacy of state socialism lingering from the 1970s – demonstrates a slow but emerging current of change towards a more economically thriving country.
After 13 hours in the car, the town of Mbeya just sorta happens. I might not have known we were here, versus another village along the way, except for the Castle Beer road marker, “Mbeya.” Thank you, South African imported alcohol, for your multi-purpose advertising. The striking aspect to this town is the tangible sense of movement.
Mbeya serves as the intersection of the TanZam railway (Tanzania-Zambia), as well as the last major stop on the freeway running north-south-ish across Tanzania. This creates a center of trade and transport – particularly in these days leading up to Nane Nane agricultural festival. Sadly, Mbeya also leads Tanzania with the highest incidence of HIV (18%), as a result of its location along this heavily traveled trade route. However, despite all the advantages and drawbacks from such movement, Mbeya offers some of the most beautiful vistas I have seen yet in Tanzania. The forested mountains crest into valleys full of light yellow maize fields – the scattered square-ish plots almost look European in their lay-out and residents continue to smile genuinely at strangers. Mbeya is known for its tea and coffee plantations – the fields of green plantings contrast distinctively from the multi-colored fabrics of those farmers and field hands picking the leaves and beans for harvest. While Mbeya lies on the border near Malawi and Zambia, it remains uniquely Tanzanian.
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Swansong Journey
Back to the road! I will depart tomorrow morning at 6AM for a 14-hour drive to reach my first destination of this trek starting out beyond Mbeya, a small city in the southern highlands region of Tanzania. I will be gone for about two weeks to visit new places and return to several that I traveled to previously on my initial fact-finding mission. With the plan of heading far out and working our way back, Deo and I will return to the road; I hope he has acquired at least one or even two new cassette tapes since our last roadtrip.
The goal of this Tour de Tanzania is to get down in the details on avocado, tomato, and pineapples. The overarching question looms of whether or not these crops are sustainably competitive – it is our job to steer farmers towards or away increased investment and risk on their part to, let’s say, double down on tomato plantings.
A highlight to this timing is the overlap with “Nane Nane” (literally “eight eight” or August 8th; also, coincidentally, Carleen Raymond’s 28th birthday and I hope it’s a happy one). Nane Nane is a national farmer festival – hooray farmers! The celebration is based in Morogoro region always, but another region is highlighted each year drawing particular government officials and national attention. This year is Mbeya’s time to shine! As a result, I will remain in Mbeya through the weekend, where I plan to be “that mzungu” who approaches these farmers and dealers at the festival to learn more about what they do and how they transport foods and veggies across Tanzania. That should be both helpful and amusing on many levels.
I will then return to the tomato heartland of Iringa region to learn more from processors to plantings to the challenges farmers face with such an abundance of one crop for their livelihood.
Rounding out the Tour de Tanz is Morogoro, where I will return to the land of pineapples to dive into greater detail on the Sweet Cayenne variety.
I hope to return to Dar on Saturday in time for the Dar Goat Races (see earlier posting below; how can it not be amazing) and then it is time to get summarizing, concluding, and recommending!
Even though my time with TechnoServe will come to an end, it is thankfully not yet time to leave. My parents, Scott and Nanners Laidlaw, arrive to Dar at 23:00 on June 20th where we will depart for the northern safari circuit and then some time on Zanzibar. This summer continues to fly by quickly – though I suspect I will have some quiet, slow nights in the field reading and working on data analysis in the two weeks ahead.
Back to Bongoyo
Last weekend was the start to many final moments of my time here in Tanzania – well, for this visit, at least. A quartet of ladies (Caris, Kelly, Sara and I) boarded the ferry out to the island (yes, Dad, there were life jackets) of paradise: Bongoyo.
My first trip was during my first weekend, so it seemed fitting to return towards the end of my adventures here. While in May it was a smaller, quieter crowd, you can tell that the northern-hemisphere-summer-tourism has arrived to Dar. More crying babies, stronger European accents, and general “whiteness” accompanied us to the beach this time around. As usual, the water was gorgeous and clear.
Amazing, great day at the beach!
The fresh grilled fish is another highlight to the Bongoyo food options, as it was likely caught on the backside of the island and grilled near the tourist beach area. I’m not sure it gets fresher than this, even though it’s a pretty skinny fish!
The grill really showed no mercy on this one.
We returned home for a delicious dinner where I contributed by drinking / pouring wine and setting the table while Kelly and Sara dominated the kitchen with grilled eggplant, fresh cabbage salad, cucumber / goat cheese combo, and delicious bread with cheese. Caris made the incredible Betty Crocker cake. You could say we all played to our strengths. :)
Pretty classy at our house-sitting venue - yes, we were even a little impressed ourselves :)
More than anything, I’ve been here long enough to notice changes like the types of tourists -- those en route to safari versus those long-term visitors, the slight change in mix of seasons for some vegetables, and how it is cooler at night – since we are at the height of winter…and it’s in the 70s at night.
My first trip was during my first weekend, so it seemed fitting to return towards the end of my adventures here. While in May it was a smaller, quieter crowd, you can tell that the northern-hemisphere-summer-tourism has arrived to Dar. More crying babies, stronger European accents, and general “whiteness” accompanied us to the beach this time around. As usual, the water was gorgeous and clear.
Amazing, great day at the beach!
The fresh grilled fish is another highlight to the Bongoyo food options, as it was likely caught on the backside of the island and grilled near the tourist beach area. I’m not sure it gets fresher than this, even though it’s a pretty skinny fish!
The grill really showed no mercy on this one.
We returned home for a delicious dinner where I contributed by drinking / pouring wine and setting the table while Kelly and Sara dominated the kitchen with grilled eggplant, fresh cabbage salad, cucumber / goat cheese combo, and delicious bread with cheese. Caris made the incredible Betty Crocker cake. You could say we all played to our strengths. :)
Pretty classy at our house-sitting venue - yes, we were even a little impressed ourselves :)
More than anything, I’ve been here long enough to notice changes like the types of tourists -- those en route to safari versus those long-term visitors, the slight change in mix of seasons for some vegetables, and how it is cooler at night – since we are at the height of winter…and it’s in the 70s at night.
Office Musings
It’s only natural when you place a bunch of consultants in a room, they try to fix, well, everything. Even in Africa.
Restaurants here are few and largely inefficient. Magic math occurs with the bill often, as the initial order that was hand-written seems to disappear when it comes time to pay. Occasionally we are overcharged – and we have to correct the bill to reflect the pricing stated on the menu. However, sometimes, restaurants under-charge and on more than one occasion we correct them in the moral right. When either of these over or under charging incidents occurs, a substantial conversation of efficiency opportunities or money management solutions erupts from our group of traveling nerds. That said, it would take a little effort mostly in implementing technology to make a big difference here – a statement perhaps for all of Africa – but it could start easiest at restaurants.
Paul, another consultant, observed how close the sisal plant is genetically to the agave plant. To be clear, there’s currently no agave in Tanzania right now. The only alcohols are beers (Kili and Ndouvu as the leading favorites) and, of course, Kanyagi cheap gin. He’s only half-kidding when he says he wants TechnoServe to explore launching a “Tanzania Tequila” industry. He says it could re-energize the northeast corner of the country.
I, on the other hand, was offering to start the first TechnServe office in Afghanistan. A topic often in the news is what to do with the poppy trade in Afghanistan. While there are proposed theories to pay farmers NOT to plant (bad idea) or to switch to other cash-generating crops, a group discussion pinpointed that farmers should not switch production, they should switch buyers (ie, no more drug lords). We had a 20-minute discussion (in the horticulture war room, no less) on the potential for Poppies for Peace, a for-profit social enterprise to be launched in the Swat Valley. It would be a muffin manufacturer – essentially taking some of the land with poppies and plant wheat and maize (baking inputs), then use the poppies already there. Al, Caris and I explored the space of rational and irrational ideas to determine what it would take to make this happen. Muffin Tops Against Terrorism was Al’s winning suggestion for naming rites. Satirical kidding aside, there is a huge opportunity for agri-business in these parts of the world that need an economic development vehicle to get out of their current situation.
Caris might remain in Dar to launch the first cake company. We had, by and large, given up on finding good baked goods in Dar. (Exception: Melting lava cake at Zuane) However, at a girls dinner last weekend, enough was enough – a group of four purchased a box of Betty Crocker Devil’s Food Cake mix. This box of cake mix would cost about $3 in the US. The box itself was marked as 2 pounds – almost $5 if in merry England. However, in Dar? We surrendered $8. Yes, $8 for a box of cake mix. And, I’d do it again. After the successful baking of this cake, we discussed the margins of selling it by the slice at Epi D’Or, the closest thing on the Peninsula to a bakery/coffee shop. Margins were ostensibly at 80% --- so, Cakes by Caris was created.
Restaurants here are few and largely inefficient. Magic math occurs with the bill often, as the initial order that was hand-written seems to disappear when it comes time to pay. Occasionally we are overcharged – and we have to correct the bill to reflect the pricing stated on the menu. However, sometimes, restaurants under-charge and on more than one occasion we correct them in the moral right. When either of these over or under charging incidents occurs, a substantial conversation of efficiency opportunities or money management solutions erupts from our group of traveling nerds. That said, it would take a little effort mostly in implementing technology to make a big difference here – a statement perhaps for all of Africa – but it could start easiest at restaurants.
Paul, another consultant, observed how close the sisal plant is genetically to the agave plant. To be clear, there’s currently no agave in Tanzania right now. The only alcohols are beers (Kili and Ndouvu as the leading favorites) and, of course, Kanyagi cheap gin. He’s only half-kidding when he says he wants TechnoServe to explore launching a “Tanzania Tequila” industry. He says it could re-energize the northeast corner of the country.
I, on the other hand, was offering to start the first TechnServe office in Afghanistan. A topic often in the news is what to do with the poppy trade in Afghanistan. While there are proposed theories to pay farmers NOT to plant (bad idea) or to switch to other cash-generating crops, a group discussion pinpointed that farmers should not switch production, they should switch buyers (ie, no more drug lords). We had a 20-minute discussion (in the horticulture war room, no less) on the potential for Poppies for Peace, a for-profit social enterprise to be launched in the Swat Valley. It would be a muffin manufacturer – essentially taking some of the land with poppies and plant wheat and maize (baking inputs), then use the poppies already there. Al, Caris and I explored the space of rational and irrational ideas to determine what it would take to make this happen. Muffin Tops Against Terrorism was Al’s winning suggestion for naming rites. Satirical kidding aside, there is a huge opportunity for agri-business in these parts of the world that need an economic development vehicle to get out of their current situation.
Caris might remain in Dar to launch the first cake company. We had, by and large, given up on finding good baked goods in Dar. (Exception: Melting lava cake at Zuane) However, at a girls dinner last weekend, enough was enough – a group of four purchased a box of Betty Crocker Devil’s Food Cake mix. This box of cake mix would cost about $3 in the US. The box itself was marked as 2 pounds – almost $5 if in merry England. However, in Dar? We surrendered $8. Yes, $8 for a box of cake mix. And, I’d do it again. After the successful baking of this cake, we discussed the margins of selling it by the slice at Epi D’Or, the closest thing on the Peninsula to a bakery/coffee shop. Margins were ostensibly at 80% --- so, Cakes by Caris was created.
Mark Your Calendar: Aug 15th Dar Goat Races
Apparently an annual tradition and local fundraiser, the Dar Goat Races have been on our social calendars here for some time.
Serving as Dar's version of the Kentucky Derby, our crew of summer consultants are making plans to attend this hilarious event. It's for a good cause, and who would not pay a few dollars for charity to support goat racing?
Serving as Dar's version of the Kentucky Derby, our crew of summer consultants are making plans to attend this hilarious event. It's for a good cause, and who would not pay a few dollars for charity to support goat racing?
Saturday, July 25, 2009
James, the Zipline wire, and My Second Visit to the Local Health Clinic
Last week I went to a local private clinic to get tested for malaria. I had some, not all, symptoms, but I passed with flying colors; malaria free. If you know me well, I would be among that “exceptional” 1% who gets malaria despite taking malarone nightly. I have historically referred to this phenomenon as “Laidlaw Luck” or really odd misfortune at inopportune times, but I avoided it unscathed. Although I didn’t feel better, it’s always good to know you don’t have malaria.
That said, it’s also good that I knew how to get to the clinic, as I was there again this morning. On the weekends, the house where I am staying has 24 hour guard service. James, one of the guards, was apparently playing in the yard with Cleo, the rambunctious pup.
As it was relayed to me, James was running around with Cleo and forgot about the little boy’s toy zipline between two trees. By the looks of James’ wounds, he nailed it. By the time James came knocking on the back door in a panic, blood was running down his neck in several places and he was visibly dizzy.
Aside from the Grey’s Anatomy-esque drama of it all, who do you call in this situation? In Tanzania, no less! I asked him to lay down and try to talk to me, while dabbing his neck for an initial clean-up on his wounds w/ antibacterial wet wipes. I wanted to get a sense for how deep the cuts were as I was figuring out what to do. If you are an ER doctor reading this (highly, highly unlikely), I hope that was not the wrong thing to do. No one who I know who lives here year-round and/or is Tanzanian was answering their phone to give me more information. With no other options, I decided to take James to this private, non-emergency clinic.
Thankfully, there is a car at this house – however, it is stick-shift. I learned / taught myself how to drive stick-shift after a 30-minute lesson last weekend from a British friend. Due to Britain being the last colonial “visitor” to Tanzania, the road rules remain and one must drive on the “other” side. It is truly scary how wrong it feels to drive on the left – the stick shift is commanded by your left hand, not your right, but the foot pedals are normal. It's quite a brain teaser. James and I got in the car and I drove carefully to the clinic. For the brief 10 minute drive, James might have become more worried for his personal safety as my passenger, than by his neck wounds. If I provided him that pause from physical discomfort, instead, channeling his pain as fear for his life, I am glad to have done what I could. :)
After some commotion explaining what was going on, who James was, and how this happened, we registered and waited. Despite waiting a long while (still bleeding), James told me how much nicer and faster this seemed than the government hospitals he is used to for primary care. That is, indeed, a statement – albeit perhaps sadly expected -- of developing countries like Tanzania.
This local clinic is fine – it has everything at the minimum with no expectation to offer more. Tanzania is, by numerous mentions even captured in the NYT this summer, a country with one of the highest female death rates during pregnancy due to poor pre-natal education and care during birth. I can’t imagine treatment gets much better after one gets past that.
James will have to go to a local hospital if he wants neck x-rays; the cost of an x-ray from a private hospital would be astronomical. There's aren't very many machines in the entire country. While James was being seen by the doctors, I waited in the lobby area (read as: outside) with the fake Maasi who is paid tips to “watch” your car so that no one attempts a break-in. He told me it was rare to see someone like James come to this clinic. I said James got hurt and deserved the best possible care immediately – the fake Maasi smiled and nodded with a gap-toothy grin.
This could have been a lot worse. This episode was a strong reminder that when things are good in Tanzania, they are actually great; however, there is little infrastructure or available support when something goes wrong.
That said, it’s also good that I knew how to get to the clinic, as I was there again this morning. On the weekends, the house where I am staying has 24 hour guard service. James, one of the guards, was apparently playing in the yard with Cleo, the rambunctious pup.
As it was relayed to me, James was running around with Cleo and forgot about the little boy’s toy zipline between two trees. By the looks of James’ wounds, he nailed it. By the time James came knocking on the back door in a panic, blood was running down his neck in several places and he was visibly dizzy.
Aside from the Grey’s Anatomy-esque drama of it all, who do you call in this situation? In Tanzania, no less! I asked him to lay down and try to talk to me, while dabbing his neck for an initial clean-up on his wounds w/ antibacterial wet wipes. I wanted to get a sense for how deep the cuts were as I was figuring out what to do. If you are an ER doctor reading this (highly, highly unlikely), I hope that was not the wrong thing to do. No one who I know who lives here year-round and/or is Tanzanian was answering their phone to give me more information. With no other options, I decided to take James to this private, non-emergency clinic.
Thankfully, there is a car at this house – however, it is stick-shift. I learned / taught myself how to drive stick-shift after a 30-minute lesson last weekend from a British friend. Due to Britain being the last colonial “visitor” to Tanzania, the road rules remain and one must drive on the “other” side. It is truly scary how wrong it feels to drive on the left – the stick shift is commanded by your left hand, not your right, but the foot pedals are normal. It's quite a brain teaser. James and I got in the car and I drove carefully to the clinic. For the brief 10 minute drive, James might have become more worried for his personal safety as my passenger, than by his neck wounds. If I provided him that pause from physical discomfort, instead, channeling his pain as fear for his life, I am glad to have done what I could. :)
After some commotion explaining what was going on, who James was, and how this happened, we registered and waited. Despite waiting a long while (still bleeding), James told me how much nicer and faster this seemed than the government hospitals he is used to for primary care. That is, indeed, a statement – albeit perhaps sadly expected -- of developing countries like Tanzania.
This local clinic is fine – it has everything at the minimum with no expectation to offer more. Tanzania is, by numerous mentions even captured in the NYT this summer, a country with one of the highest female death rates during pregnancy due to poor pre-natal education and care during birth. I can’t imagine treatment gets much better after one gets past that.
James will have to go to a local hospital if he wants neck x-rays; the cost of an x-ray from a private hospital would be astronomical. There's aren't very many machines in the entire country. While James was being seen by the doctors, I waited in the lobby area (read as: outside) with the fake Maasi who is paid tips to “watch” your car so that no one attempts a break-in. He told me it was rare to see someone like James come to this clinic. I said James got hurt and deserved the best possible care immediately – the fake Maasi smiled and nodded with a gap-toothy grin.
This could have been a lot worse. This episode was a strong reminder that when things are good in Tanzania, they are actually great; however, there is little infrastructure or available support when something goes wrong.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Officially a Local. I am now a Class C Resident.
Requiring a monstrous eleven and a half weeks of bureaucracy and patience from start to finish, I finally received a Class C Resident stamp in my passport. However, the overarching question: does this make me Tanzanian?
Against a simple list of qualifiers, the verdict is uncertain at best but is in my favor.
- Do I speak Swahili?
Basic. I have a strong start but fade quickly when substance of politics or sports replaces greetings and simple exchanges. I smile a lot to compensate for that deficit. (+1 Tanzanian point)
- Do I like to eat mishkaki and ugali?
Simply put, no. (-1 Tanzanian point)
- Do I ride public transport?
Much to my mother’s chagrin, yes. I wholeheartedly support three-wheeled vehicles and the ever popular daladala – a minivan with 3-4x as many people as should be riding inside. If H1N1 is looking for a low threshold with high population density, this would be its entry gameplan for Tanzania. (+1 Tanzanian point)
Well, based on that, its looking in my favor to have legit TZ street cred accompanying my Class C Resident Visa.
It should be noted that my multi-entry Tourist Visa is a full-page sticker; it’s nice, typed and organized. Oddly, the harder-to-get-due-to-bureaucracy Class C is a blue-ink stamp, filled in by hand. Tanzania should rethink its resident branding; this is yet another missed opportunity for a zebra or giraffe printed background or something more “authentic” to show off Tanzania’s selling points.
Against a simple list of qualifiers, the verdict is uncertain at best but is in my favor.
- Do I speak Swahili?
Basic. I have a strong start but fade quickly when substance of politics or sports replaces greetings and simple exchanges. I smile a lot to compensate for that deficit. (+1 Tanzanian point)
- Do I like to eat mishkaki and ugali?
Simply put, no. (-1 Tanzanian point)
- Do I ride public transport?
Much to my mother’s chagrin, yes. I wholeheartedly support three-wheeled vehicles and the ever popular daladala – a minivan with 3-4x as many people as should be riding inside. If H1N1 is looking for a low threshold with high population density, this would be its entry gameplan for Tanzania. (+1 Tanzanian point)
Well, based on that, its looking in my favor to have legit TZ street cred accompanying my Class C Resident Visa.
It should be noted that my multi-entry Tourist Visa is a full-page sticker; it’s nice, typed and organized. Oddly, the harder-to-get-due-to-bureaucracy Class C is a blue-ink stamp, filled in by hand. Tanzania should rethink its resident branding; this is yet another missed opportunity for a zebra or giraffe printed background or something more “authentic” to show off Tanzania’s selling points.
And on the Fourth Try…I Picked up my Package
Steve Gore is a wonder. Steve and I have kept up since our time at Duke, comparing notes on international travels. Steve has found that great professional combo of consulting + travel to cool places – apparently, it’s called “knowing how to navigate your career at Accenture”.
Steve was working for a stint in Nairobi and let me know that he had decided to test the fates of the Kenya to Tanzania mail system by sending me something to the P.O. Box Address of TechnoServe. And here’s where the saga begins.
There is no residential mail system in Tanzania. This is largely in part because there are no addresses for houses. Most people know their home in relation to something else. For example, I tell taxis that my new, temporary address is “near Key West Club” – it’s not really but that’s the best I have for a starting point. As a result, people do not --- nor can not --- send things via mail.
Instead, all mail for the entire city of Dar is filtered through a central location – with 6 blocks of P.O. boxes. If you have a business, you have a P.O. box. The keys to open each box are old-school. In order to pick up a package, you have to have an ID card that states you are authorized to pick up a package – and the person to whom it is addressed has to physically appear in the office.
Here’s the run down of attempts. At least it had a happy ending.
Attempt 1: Arrived to the mail central distribution place – it’s a cacophony of people moving, talking, and also trying to figure out the mail system. We went to the TechnoServe PO box, found the slip to pick up the package. However, we were denied the package because we did not have – nor know we needed – the illustrious ID card.
Attempt 2: Turns out the ID card needed in the first place was actually at the office and had expired. Someone at TechnoServe had to go to another government-related office to get a new one, which requires spending a half-day waiting in line.
Attempt 3: I could either get my immigration Class C visa or return to the mail center to get my package. I chose the Class C since my tourist visa runs out soon. This was good b/c the package slip had to be signed anyways by the office manager who mentioned that her signature was needed only in passing after Attempt 3. I would have been stymied regardless of efforts to get the package this time.
Attempt 4: Arrived to the mail center of chaos and entered in the package office with high hopes and proper paperwork. On a single bookshelf, there lay all packages coming into Dar. I don’t think there was a morning pick-up already – I am pretty confident that no one mails anything. However, success! After some stamping, some identification checking, and general confusion despite there only being one shelf of packages to investigate, I left with package in hand.
The contents? A bag of Starburst from the United States. Amazing!
While I would recommend no one else to try the mail services (even DHL, who operates on motorbikes, seems to face impediments to delivery) – I was glad to see how that worked – and now I have this to enjoy! Thank you!
Steve was working for a stint in Nairobi and let me know that he had decided to test the fates of the Kenya to Tanzania mail system by sending me something to the P.O. Box Address of TechnoServe. And here’s where the saga begins.
There is no residential mail system in Tanzania. This is largely in part because there are no addresses for houses. Most people know their home in relation to something else. For example, I tell taxis that my new, temporary address is “near Key West Club” – it’s not really but that’s the best I have for a starting point. As a result, people do not --- nor can not --- send things via mail.
Instead, all mail for the entire city of Dar is filtered through a central location – with 6 blocks of P.O. boxes. If you have a business, you have a P.O. box. The keys to open each box are old-school. In order to pick up a package, you have to have an ID card that states you are authorized to pick up a package – and the person to whom it is addressed has to physically appear in the office.
Here’s the run down of attempts. At least it had a happy ending.
Attempt 1: Arrived to the mail central distribution place – it’s a cacophony of people moving, talking, and also trying to figure out the mail system. We went to the TechnoServe PO box, found the slip to pick up the package. However, we were denied the package because we did not have – nor know we needed – the illustrious ID card.
Attempt 2: Turns out the ID card needed in the first place was actually at the office and had expired. Someone at TechnoServe had to go to another government-related office to get a new one, which requires spending a half-day waiting in line.
Attempt 3: I could either get my immigration Class C visa or return to the mail center to get my package. I chose the Class C since my tourist visa runs out soon. This was good b/c the package slip had to be signed anyways by the office manager who mentioned that her signature was needed only in passing after Attempt 3. I would have been stymied regardless of efforts to get the package this time.
Attempt 4: Arrived to the mail center of chaos and entered in the package office with high hopes and proper paperwork. On a single bookshelf, there lay all packages coming into Dar. I don’t think there was a morning pick-up already – I am pretty confident that no one mails anything. However, success! After some stamping, some identification checking, and general confusion despite there only being one shelf of packages to investigate, I left with package in hand.
The contents? A bag of Starburst from the United States. Amazing!
While I would recommend no one else to try the mail services (even DHL, who operates on motorbikes, seems to face impediments to delivery) – I was glad to see how that worked – and now I have this to enjoy! Thank you!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
USAID Horticulture Grant Submitted!
The grant is in! Monday was exciting as we tied up all loose ends to submit the horticulture grant to USAID. We literally drove and walked the proposal documents into the USAID office at the US Embassy.
We will find out mid- to late-August if we were successful in our proposal. Til then, I am moving forward with my work where I will return to the field to focus on three main areas across the tomato, avocado, and pineapple markets: (1) Yield, (2) Production, and (3) Price.
If anyone reading (all 3 of you) knows much about the impact of 1gm of fertilizer on a tomato crop in over-worked soil, how much land could be under cultivation in Iringa region, and how prices are determined and change in informal markets, please let me know! :)
We will find out mid- to late-August if we were successful in our proposal. Til then, I am moving forward with my work where I will return to the field to focus on three main areas across the tomato, avocado, and pineapple markets: (1) Yield, (2) Production, and (3) Price.
If anyone reading (all 3 of you) knows much about the impact of 1gm of fertilizer on a tomato crop in over-worked soil, how much land could be under cultivation in Iringa region, and how prices are determined and change in informal markets, please let me know! :)
Moving on Up!
Last weekend I moved over to my country manager’s home to dog-sit and take care of the house while they are away in the States on vacation. It is an incredible upgrade and yet another perspective to consider when evaluating the ups and downs to the expat lifestyle.
Hello Dexter and Cleo.
With the new digs, I have two new roommates – a 5-month mutt puppy and a seasoned, massive Rhodesian Ridgeback.
As you can see, Dexter takes his half down the middle.
Cleo has two speeds: (1) passed out asleep or (2) going crazy. I have been trying a few patterns to their day to see what works best with me invading their space. Cleo currently likes to sleep from 10PM-1AM. He wakes up at 1am and scratches the door until I let him out. Then, he scratches the door until I let him in. This repeats at 4AM and 6AM. Once I figured that out, I asked for the assistance of the guard (askari) who is on the property from 6PM – 6AM each night – as well as their gardener, who lives on the land too. Cleo now spends more time outside at night and I am sleeping better. Good dog, just a lot of puppy energy.
Dexter is a great guard dog. He was already in the habit of taking ½ of the bed where I sleep, so that was just part of the deal. I am now a huge fan of Rhodesian Ridgebacks – they used to be lion hunters in South Africa. Tanzanians are scared of dogs as they are a “luxury” item here and scarce except among the well-off population – so walking Dexter draws attention but also some trepidation by unknowing passersby.
I very much enjoy the change in scenery as this family has a very large plot of land with a lot of outdoor space to enjoy. Their usual cleaning lady and cook, Winnie, came yesterday. Her foccacia bread should be sold at a bakery (if there were any!) and the couscous with dried cranberries was amazing. Again, this is not a tough life.
It’s been a great first week in the house and I’ll be here through the first weeks of August. Good times.
Hello Dexter and Cleo.
With the new digs, I have two new roommates – a 5-month mutt puppy and a seasoned, massive Rhodesian Ridgeback.
As you can see, Dexter takes his half down the middle.
Cleo has two speeds: (1) passed out asleep or (2) going crazy. I have been trying a few patterns to their day to see what works best with me invading their space. Cleo currently likes to sleep from 10PM-1AM. He wakes up at 1am and scratches the door until I let him out. Then, he scratches the door until I let him in. This repeats at 4AM and 6AM. Once I figured that out, I asked for the assistance of the guard (askari) who is on the property from 6PM – 6AM each night – as well as their gardener, who lives on the land too. Cleo now spends more time outside at night and I am sleeping better. Good dog, just a lot of puppy energy.
Dexter is a great guard dog. He was already in the habit of taking ½ of the bed where I sleep, so that was just part of the deal. I am now a huge fan of Rhodesian Ridgebacks – they used to be lion hunters in South Africa. Tanzanians are scared of dogs as they are a “luxury” item here and scarce except among the well-off population – so walking Dexter draws attention but also some trepidation by unknowing passersby.
I very much enjoy the change in scenery as this family has a very large plot of land with a lot of outdoor space to enjoy. Their usual cleaning lady and cook, Winnie, came yesterday. Her foccacia bread should be sold at a bakery (if there were any!) and the couscous with dried cranberries was amazing. Again, this is not a tough life.
It’s been a great first week in the house and I’ll be here through the first weeks of August. Good times.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Random Observations
- At the office, the consultants sit in 2 rooms. My “horticulture war room” has created quite a stir as we work towards the Friday deadline to submit our proposal to USAID Tanzania. While grant writing and data analysis are tedious, I started to think about other ways to capture our horticulture sentiments. As usual, I turned to my favorite poem structure, the haiku. Here’s a good one from fellow VolCon, Al Green:
mango. fibrous fruit.
the only thing sweeter is
farmer profit growth.
- Bastille Day came and went with little fan fare – or French fare, as we went out for Italian after the gym.
- I broke down and joined the mzungu gym. Running outside, no more. There’s something about aerobic classes when the instructor yells in Swahili that is extra motivating. The most ridiculous part is that the gym has entry with a finger scanner. The roads here are largely unpaved but this gym has a finger scanner. Go figure.
- The gym classes here are circa 1995. The “waist/bum” class was close to a Suzanne Somer’s exercise session. I am going to Taebo today (ie, of the Billy Blanks fame; I like you more if you can’t remember who that is). The music played in the classes was circa 1990 – I feel like I should wear something off the shoulder, neon, or leg warmers. Those will be hard to find in Dar, but could be worth it to match the gym setting.
- I drink coffee now. Big time. After 27 years of shunning coffee – and taking a daily dose of Diet Coke, Diet Dr Pepper (still my favorite) or Red Bull (thanks, grad school) – I’ve gone back to the bean. My penchant for jamocha shakes from Arby’s or Blue Bell’s coffee ice cream aside – coffee is surprisingly delicious. I currently favor cappuccino and have already thought about buying a French press when I get home.
- Yoga. I’m not meant to do it. It’s too still and calming – my mind wanders more about what I need to do or want to do in the next 10 minutes, next day or next 5 years rather than “channeling my energy”. At least Bikram yoga (that I tried this past spring) gave you a work-out feeling by sweating profusely – but just standing in poses seems trite. My yoga session was also challenged by the humor of a super-serious (but very genuine) Nigerian instructor wearing a complete Yao Ming Houston Rockets uniform.
- Zuane restaurant has a molten chocolate cake dish. Best, though possibly only, dessert in Dar, hands down.
- The internet, water or electricity (or all 3) have been out at the apartment lately. Not a good combo. I am moving this weekend over to the country director’s home for a change in scenery and to dog-sit her two massive pooches while they return to the US for a few weeks. I am very excited!
mango. fibrous fruit.
the only thing sweeter is
farmer profit growth.
- Bastille Day came and went with little fan fare – or French fare, as we went out for Italian after the gym.
- I broke down and joined the mzungu gym. Running outside, no more. There’s something about aerobic classes when the instructor yells in Swahili that is extra motivating. The most ridiculous part is that the gym has entry with a finger scanner. The roads here are largely unpaved but this gym has a finger scanner. Go figure.
- The gym classes here are circa 1995. The “waist/bum” class was close to a Suzanne Somer’s exercise session. I am going to Taebo today (ie, of the Billy Blanks fame; I like you more if you can’t remember who that is). The music played in the classes was circa 1990 – I feel like I should wear something off the shoulder, neon, or leg warmers. Those will be hard to find in Dar, but could be worth it to match the gym setting.
- I drink coffee now. Big time. After 27 years of shunning coffee – and taking a daily dose of Diet Coke, Diet Dr Pepper (still my favorite) or Red Bull (thanks, grad school) – I’ve gone back to the bean. My penchant for jamocha shakes from Arby’s or Blue Bell’s coffee ice cream aside – coffee is surprisingly delicious. I currently favor cappuccino and have already thought about buying a French press when I get home.
- Yoga. I’m not meant to do it. It’s too still and calming – my mind wanders more about what I need to do or want to do in the next 10 minutes, next day or next 5 years rather than “channeling my energy”. At least Bikram yoga (that I tried this past spring) gave you a work-out feeling by sweating profusely – but just standing in poses seems trite. My yoga session was also challenged by the humor of a super-serious (but very genuine) Nigerian instructor wearing a complete Yao Ming Houston Rockets uniform.
- Zuane restaurant has a molten chocolate cake dish. Best, though possibly only, dessert in Dar, hands down.
- The internet, water or electricity (or all 3) have been out at the apartment lately. Not a good combo. I am moving this weekend over to the country director’s home for a change in scenery and to dog-sit her two massive pooches while they return to the US for a few weeks. I am very excited!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Karibu Zanzibar
Known for its history in the spice trade, as a holiday tromping ground, and for its blend of cultures, Zanzibar is simply fantastic.
Arriving via ferry
Looked a bit like a cattle run through immigration, to be honest
The ferry is run by Azam, part of the largest conglomerate in Tanzania, the Bakhresa group of Companies. Bakhresa also owns grain milling, transport, ice cream, other food and more transport. Rather non-sequitur. Apparently representing 4% of Tanzania's GDP; these guys are king. It costs US$ 35 for economy class and US$ 40 for first class, so we decided to splurge. This was a good decision.
While its fantastic to travel just over 2 hours to arrive to Zanzibar, this is some of the choppiest water I've experienced via ferry. Economy class has the reputation of more people getting sick during this ride, so it was a more pleasant experience in general to be surrounded by fewer potential medical casualties.
Arriving to Zanzibar via the port at Stonetown oddly includes a stop at immigration even if traveling under a visa, despite not technically leaving the country of Tanzania -- but if they were to secede, at least they'd have that figured out. (Texas, take notes!)
Kelly, Sara and I started off the day with a spice tour. We traveled by bus about 30 minutes into the island to enter a village and then walk along a dirt path with the guide cutting off different spices that grow in the fields. Young village boys tagged along, using palm reeds to weave necklaces, bracelets, hats, you name it --- for an expected donation. We had ate local fare that came out of a mud hut and was delicious -- and headed back to Stonetown.
Hand-made palm frond basket & hat/lid
True dedication to hunting down spices
Cool hue; not cool hand stains.
Perhaps J Crew's new look: Man capris and palm frond ties for fall
Kelly, me and Sara: loving the spice tour
Wandering through the small streets of Stonetown was far more reminiscent of a European town, than Africa. The change was refreshing, yet reflective more of the city's history than today's local population. Stonetown is particularly dominated by a Muslim population and indicators - both small and large - were prevalent of this culture's dominance throughout the city.
Lots of this along winding streets
A highlight of the afternoon? Drinks at Mercury's -- of the Frank Mercury (famous singer) fame. We ordered a specialty cocktail (this place was far from Muslim, based on the drinks list) - the Obama.
It's a good thing.
The Obama is a delightful concoction of Kanyagi (local cheap rum; drink with caution), vodka, lime juice and honey (with fresh lemon and lime in the glass). It is refreshing and delicious. We could have sat there with pitchers, but we continued to explore the city.
Great building art!
That night we explored the outdoor markets - featuring sea food, grilled meats, and vegetarian dishes. We then headed to a recommended restaurant for Indian, where we had some of the worst Indian food I've ever tasted (an opposite experience from our Dar dining and it would have made Mrs. Batra in Delhi cry) -- but then we returned for a nightcap Obama at Mercury's with live music. The Obama was a redeemer.
Zanzibar open air food market
Showing off his "pholaphel"! (Perhaps its a Thai influence? Likely not.)
I assisted our chef to make my "Zanzibar pizza" - a mix between an omlette and pancake. It was tasty.
After some morning wandering and time by the water, we returned to Dar via the same boisterous ferry.
Streets of Stonetown
A "kanga" is purchased as a two-part piece of fabric to wear as a wrap-around skirt with matching head cover. The prominence of the Obama kanga outside shops was no coincedence in overlapping with Obama's official visit to Ghana. There was much discussion about why Obama didnt come to Tanzania, as he apparently should have, instead.
Pretty great :)
Zanzibar offers far more to explore than expected and remains loyal to its local culture preserved by the strong religious ties. I already look forward to returning again later this summer!
Arriving via ferry
Looked a bit like a cattle run through immigration, to be honest
The ferry is run by Azam, part of the largest conglomerate in Tanzania, the Bakhresa group of Companies. Bakhresa also owns grain milling, transport, ice cream, other food and more transport. Rather non-sequitur. Apparently representing 4% of Tanzania's GDP; these guys are king. It costs US$ 35 for economy class and US$ 40 for first class, so we decided to splurge. This was a good decision.
While its fantastic to travel just over 2 hours to arrive to Zanzibar, this is some of the choppiest water I've experienced via ferry. Economy class has the reputation of more people getting sick during this ride, so it was a more pleasant experience in general to be surrounded by fewer potential medical casualties.
Arriving to Zanzibar via the port at Stonetown oddly includes a stop at immigration even if traveling under a visa, despite not technically leaving the country of Tanzania -- but if they were to secede, at least they'd have that figured out. (Texas, take notes!)
Kelly, Sara and I started off the day with a spice tour. We traveled by bus about 30 minutes into the island to enter a village and then walk along a dirt path with the guide cutting off different spices that grow in the fields. Young village boys tagged along, using palm reeds to weave necklaces, bracelets, hats, you name it --- for an expected donation. We had ate local fare that came out of a mud hut and was delicious -- and headed back to Stonetown.
Hand-made palm frond basket & hat/lid
True dedication to hunting down spices
Cool hue; not cool hand stains.
Perhaps J Crew's new look: Man capris and palm frond ties for fall
Kelly, me and Sara: loving the spice tour
Wandering through the small streets of Stonetown was far more reminiscent of a European town, than Africa. The change was refreshing, yet reflective more of the city's history than today's local population. Stonetown is particularly dominated by a Muslim population and indicators - both small and large - were prevalent of this culture's dominance throughout the city.
Lots of this along winding streets
A highlight of the afternoon? Drinks at Mercury's -- of the Frank Mercury (famous singer) fame. We ordered a specialty cocktail (this place was far from Muslim, based on the drinks list) - the Obama.
It's a good thing.
The Obama is a delightful concoction of Kanyagi (local cheap rum; drink with caution), vodka, lime juice and honey (with fresh lemon and lime in the glass). It is refreshing and delicious. We could have sat there with pitchers, but we continued to explore the city.
Great building art!
That night we explored the outdoor markets - featuring sea food, grilled meats, and vegetarian dishes. We then headed to a recommended restaurant for Indian, where we had some of the worst Indian food I've ever tasted (an opposite experience from our Dar dining and it would have made Mrs. Batra in Delhi cry) -- but then we returned for a nightcap Obama at Mercury's with live music. The Obama was a redeemer.
Zanzibar open air food market
Showing off his "pholaphel"! (Perhaps its a Thai influence? Likely not.)
I assisted our chef to make my "Zanzibar pizza" - a mix between an omlette and pancake. It was tasty.
After some morning wandering and time by the water, we returned to Dar via the same boisterous ferry.
Streets of Stonetown
A "kanga" is purchased as a two-part piece of fabric to wear as a wrap-around skirt with matching head cover. The prominence of the Obama kanga outside shops was no coincedence in overlapping with Obama's official visit to Ghana. There was much discussion about why Obama didnt come to Tanzania, as he apparently should have, instead.
Pretty great :)
Zanzibar offers far more to explore than expected and remains loyal to its local culture preserved by the strong religious ties. I already look forward to returning again later this summer!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Celebrating Saba Saba
After our adventures to the Saba Saba fairgrounds to explore the wide, random range of goods and exhibitions – the actual day of July 7th (Seven Seven) arrived with much relaxation and fun times. The TechnoServe crew and friends spent Saba Saba at a crowd favorite: Kipepeo Beach.
We took the now-familiar ferry over to Kigamboni Peninsula and set-up camp on the sand. I personally think Seagram’s is missing a HUGE marketing opportunity with the “Seven Seven” holiday beverage opportunity. Perhaps good for Tanzanians in general, but a real entrepreneur could really make that happen.
After returning home, I went to see a limited release of the movie, I Love You, Man, at the only movie theater within proximity to Dar. It was, as usual, a truly Tanzanian experience, as concessions closed (yes, closed) 20 minutes before the movie started because that makes sense. Then, during the movie, the frequent sight of rats running up the walls and along wall paneling, was only a slight distraction from the otherwise humorous film.
Thank you, Tanzania, for a nice mid-week holiday.
A big size group of volunteer consultants from Dar and Nairobi are headed to Zanzibar this weekend to explore Stonetown and the full-moon party (once per month) at Kendwa beach. Nice.
We took the now-familiar ferry over to Kigamboni Peninsula and set-up camp on the sand. I personally think Seagram’s is missing a HUGE marketing opportunity with the “Seven Seven” holiday beverage opportunity. Perhaps good for Tanzanians in general, but a real entrepreneur could really make that happen.
After returning home, I went to see a limited release of the movie, I Love You, Man, at the only movie theater within proximity to Dar. It was, as usual, a truly Tanzanian experience, as concessions closed (yes, closed) 20 minutes before the movie started because that makes sense. Then, during the movie, the frequent sight of rats running up the walls and along wall paneling, was only a slight distraction from the otherwise humorous film.
Thank you, Tanzania, for a nice mid-week holiday.
A big size group of volunteer consultants from Dar and Nairobi are headed to Zanzibar this weekend to explore Stonetown and the full-moon party (once per month) at Kendwa beach. Nice.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Breaking News: Avocados Now on my Radar
I returned to the office after a week of vacation today to a new vegetable to keep an eye on. The avocado.
They are primarily grown in the Mbeya region, in southern TZ near the Mozambique border. These Haas avocados fit the bill for export -- which strengthens TechnoServe's ability to meet USAID requirements as well as diversify the proposed program revenue streams.
Avocados are huge here -- about 4x the size of what one would buy at the store in the US. With the mix of fruits, vegetables and some of the spices I am now researching, I am pretty much marketing Tanzania's future in fruit smoothies and guacamole.
They are primarily grown in the Mbeya region, in southern TZ near the Mozambique border. These Haas avocados fit the bill for export -- which strengthens TechnoServe's ability to meet USAID requirements as well as diversify the proposed program revenue streams.
Avocados are huge here -- about 4x the size of what one would buy at the store in the US. With the mix of fruits, vegetables and some of the spices I am now researching, I am pretty much marketing Tanzania's future in fruit smoothies and guacamole.
The Fourth of July Really Didn’t Get Rolling until the Fifth of July
Well, the Fourth of July was pretty uneventful. This photo above is from the US embassy on America's day-after-Indepdence-Day: July 5th. How did Dar do on the more typical July 4th holiday checklist?
- Hotdogs? Negative.
- Fruit-based red, white, blue baked goods? Nope.
- Watch baseball or any of the news coverage on Americans “being American”? Nada.
I woke up around 8am – went for a longer run around the Peninsula and stopped at a local shop to buy my vegetables and bare-bones staples for the week. I returned home to finish reading a book on our porch, prepared a salad (takes about an hour of step-wise treatment to get the lettuce from “local” to “edible”), and caught up on the news from traveling last week. Perhaps I was a lazy American, but it was pretty boring for America’s birthday.
The crew of TechnoServe had planned on going to the 4th of July party at Trinity Hotel – we arrived by 10:30pm and we doubled the attendance. It was slow to start. Really slow. As in, I don’t think you could register it as a party until about 1am – but then it picked up with lightning speed.
Highlights from the party include:
- Met a guy who is here for a 3-week celebration of his sister’s wedding. That’s right, a 3-week wedding. He has some friends who run a hotel down in the Selous Game Park – a small group of us from TechnoServe might go visit the park and meet up with this guy and his friends. Details to be worked out in daylight.
- Observed a token Rastafarian dance to his own music sorta near the bar but not really on the dancefloor. I hope he didn’t have to pay the cover charge as every party here seems to have its token Rastafarian – just doesn’t seem right otherwise and is a good counter-balance to the working lady population.
- Met a US Marine who is stationed at the US Embassy. He offered to take a friend and I for a run after again advising me not to run solo. Our trio ran the next day at a good, slow pace with decent sight-seeing. The six Marines stationed here share a small motor-boat called “Dar She Blows”. Ha.
- The owners of the bar decked the place out with strips of red, white and blue bunting – it looked great and they definitely catered to the ex-pat crowd. Around 2am – when the party was at full force with no sign of stopping – the party looked like what many US clubs strive to be. They’d be smart to keep up the Red, White and Blue décor as France’s Bastille Day is only 2 weeks away and it rarely rains. Might as well maximize the decoration!
We ended the night around 3am – although the party momentum was definitely still going. This shindig certainly lived up to its hype.
The 5th of July was truly a Tanz-American celebration.
A small group of us then ventured to the Saba Saba market festival. Saba Saba is technically July 7th (Saba means seven in Kiswahili) but the festival lasts for about a week. If this festival had a theme, that theme would be chaos.
Here are a few observations from our fieldtrip to the fairgrounds:
- Budget-friendly entry fee. 2,000 TSH. About $1.75. Nice and low barrier to entry. This worked to enable all Tanzanians to attend b/c it was PACKED.
- Plastic things. While you could buy metal security doors, fresh juice, semi-groun coffee, handi-crafts, cell phones, etc. at this fair – the prevailing good of popularity was plastic. Plastic chairs. Plastic bins. Plastic trays. You name it, it’s in plastic and people were buying. The local Tanzanian brand, “Cello” would have had a big day on the Tanzanian stock market. That said, it’s not listed (only 14 stocks are), but should be due to sheer market presence. Tanzanians do not need to be convinced that plastic is their way to the future.
- Coffee. Tanzania makes great coffee. I usually don’t drink coffee – but I had some that comes from the Kilimanjaro region – which was great tasting and makes for easy marketing. Who doesn’t like Kilimanjaro?
- Herbs. Herbs were available for purchase to cure anything. There was the “avoid malaria” herb – not malarone, but who am I to judge. There were performance herbs and calmness herbs. There was also the HIV prevention herb. That was disheartening.
- Honey. There was a lot of it for sale; it was a funky color. No purchasing by this crew.
- African salad spoons. Kelly and I each bought a pair of matching African salad spoons – large wooden spoons w/ cool detail on the handle. I would say they are authentic and not “Afri-crap” spoons except that locals don’t really eat salads. However, they look classy in that Pier One / Pottery Barn Out-of-Africa theme way; works for me.
After investing our time in local culture, we went to the US Embassy for their 4th of July celebration. Mind you that the party hosted on July 4th was black-tie and invite only for staff and local government officials (our tax dollars hard at work) --- but they did let the crazy American public inside the embassy gates for some fabricated fun for July 5th.
Kelly, Sarah, Me, and Chrissy with an oddly placed replica of New York's tallest Lady
The embassy is a huge complex – its sand-colored buildings contrast nicely with the palm trees and green grass – it’s a nice place. They served burgers, fries and popcorn – featuring fireworks just after dusk. It was sorta strange to look around knowing that everyone had to show a US passport to enter – but it also reminds you that there is a thriving ex-pat community here, albeit small. Fireworks finally felt festive – and I respect the fact that they had the appropriate Bruce Springsteen / Neil Diamond / God Bless America soundtrack to really drive home the patriotism.
After the fun, we returned to the realities of Dar, trying to get taxis to come pick us up – “Yes, come to Embassy Merikani” – and negotiate the price on how to get home.
It was a memorable 5th of July to say the least. :)
Namibia - You Dont Know What to Expect But It Far Exceeded Expectations
A good question to start with was: why Namibia? After 5 days traveling around only a fraction of the very large country, I would definitely recommend it.
I had a chance to travel w/ friends from school: Esther, Alice and Seth. That trio was already headed to a conference in Cape Town and opted for some traveling beforehand. We decided to travel where none of us had visited previously but still in southern Africa, hence Namibia.
Starting in Windhoek, there were a few surprises:
- The city looks like an odd German suburb
- Streets have some pretty great names, particularly when Robert Mugabe Road intersects with Fidel Castro road. Not kidding.
- The roads are in amazing shape
Welcome to Namibia!
This was supposed to happen - except the boat captain didn't really tell us that seals just climb on board!
Walvis Bay! True love at first hug
I have never seen Esther Hsu happier. Her trip goal of hugging a seal was accomplished -- the excursion far exceeded the low bar of fun the rest of us had set for this boat ride. :)
Alice & Esther taking in the ocean view
An 11am champagne toast to seals and dolphins everywhere
Nice splash of color
Leaving a lasting impression on the walls of Walvis Bay
4x4 Driving in Sand Dunes was an aggressive afternoon contrast to our relaxing morning boat ride
Sand dune silhouettes
The dunes at sunset :)
Seth and I gave sandboarding a try. You lie face-first on a piece of malleable cardboard and shoot yourself down a huge dune. I might have under-sold it in that description, but it was pretty fun. The internet isn't strong enough here for me to upload and share the video proof of dune dashing amusement.
The Expeditionary Quartet
Well, look at that!
A standard pose for Seth
Solitaire, Namibia is exactly as it sounds. And, even there, the news of MJ spread.
Solitaire, Namibia is also home to Moose. He makes amazingly delicious apple-cake and other baked goods that offered a rewarding mid-day snack. I left a piece of my heart with Moose; he's quite the cosmopolitan Namibian despite his geographic location.
Entrance to Sossusvlei dunes via Sesriem at dawn
Very early morning smiles before entering the dunes!
The vista of Sossusvlei
Esther at the vlei
Not quite a beach, but it'll do
Sossusvlei
We took a 4-seater plane to get the view from above!
The dunes of Sossusvlei
Sunset over Sesriem
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