Morogoro, success for tomorrow

If you think heading out of Toronto on the 401 on a Friday afternoon is busy, wait while I stop laughing. We left Dar es Salaam at 6:30 a.m. thinking we would beat the rush. No such luck. The beeping diesel parade took hours to put behind us and that was actually fast because Remmy, our driver (must get a picture of my Mchaga tribe rafiki) knows his way around these parts.

It struck me that as we demand greater environmental stewardship from our governments, we forget that Tanzanians and other poor populations are struggling just to eke out a meagre living and it would be impossible for them to abide by stringent rules drafted in the plush board rooms of Europe. In theory, I knew that before but now, seen through the colonial lens, it really sinks in. It doesn't get Obama off the hook like he says it should but it does make the issue even more complex to me.

Having said that, Tanzanians are starting to embrace off-the-grid technologies like solar energy simply because they can't rely on the patchy electrical systems here. Solar technology makes sense here at the equator. Now if they could just find money to expand the train system...

Once the slums and the vending stalls and the dalla dalla buses thinned out west of Dar, the land opened up and finally, we got a glimpse of what most of Tanzania looks like. Rolling mountains and trees and crops. Bloody gorgeous, y'all. The school for girls at SEGA put everything into perspective. We showed up and Fran Bruty, the volunteer we'd come to interview, beckoned us into a classroom of 13-15-year-olds who sang us a welcome song that was so rousing and animated, we were agog with admiration. The girls all come from dirt poor homes, some of them are HIV-AIDS orphans. One girl showed me a story she'd written in Kiswahili called "The Orphan Who Becomes a Princess," and she'd illustrated the cover with a drawing of what looked like Barbie.

The drive home brought first an ochre storm of dust and then the rains followed behind in sheets. Looks kind of spooky eh? Surreal actually. Note the mountain profiles in the background.

The three-hour drive from the morning turned into five hours coming home. When our exhausted Mchaga man Remmy dropped us at the City Inn Hotel, Scott and I left our gated, security guard entrance and went down to a street vendor for a crazy concoction of fried eggs, homemade french fries, skewered beef, cheese, and tangy vegetables all drenched in some kind of hot sauce. Tanzanian poutine! We each paid $2,500 shillings (about $1.50 CDN) and brought it back to the hotel. It's the best thing I've ever eaten. And since I'm getting absolutely no exercise, this kind of food is ideal for my girlish figure!

I know I promised pictures of Dar but we were outside the city all day and it was dark when we returned. Samahana (sorry). Tomorrow we pack up and head to Zanizbar on the ferry and maybe we take a day off. Or part of a day off...

njozi njema (sweet dreams)