Running in Tanzania

Neither my office nor apartment really has a street address. No one really does. Everyone has a P.O. box and I’m assuming that letters have the potential to make it here – but packages aren't likely. Someone might declare it their gift before it ever reaches you. However, the lack of addresses continues to be amusing, nonsensical and distinctively African in the way that people cope without it, instead of solving the problem. For example, our apartment is best described as “across from the George & Dragon bar, along that dirt road” --- taxis pretty much know exactly where to go.

I live in an apartment compound tucked in ways off one of the major streets on the Peninsula, called Haile Salassie. The road is one of the muzungu running routes – which means you see other people running too. Sadly, it’s not safe to run along Toré Road along the ocean – and I’m glad I was told that before I took off for a scenic run! It’s sorta annoying running without my iPod and along a straight road – as opposed to my usual route along the Charles River and through Cambridge – but that’s not a fair comparison.

The benefit of repetition in running is that you can more easily notice change along Haile Salassie. For example, two new “bars” have opened along the road (this means metal shack to serve drinks / plastic chairs & tables out front) – and there always seem to be people there. You could say, there continues to be excess demand and who’s to blame for serving the people.

Also, we drink clean water from these huge water jugs – it costs about $2 for a jug – it’s more painful to get them home. However, the other day I was running and saw a woman with one balanced on her head! Running has been more a way to add to the day otherwise largely repetitive (in a good way) but I hope to find some other routes to run with others too soon.