:: louder than swahili

It feels like having sex without a condom....

...when I have to plug in the great variety of USB flashsticks in my laptop, when I cooperate with people here.

I'm so left with no choice, but that or laying down the work. And yes, give me all your good advice, but this is rural Africa, and we plug the USB sticks in whereever, forgetting the anti-virus protection, or maybe it just isn't an option, when here's no Internet.

My laptop is now suffering from a wide range of virusses popping up, while I try to kill them with a virus detection programme, slowing down my machine. I hope it doesn't die before I reach Dar Es Salaam!

Man, I'm tired of this.

Today's Best Photo: Woman with a healthy laughter

I feel absolutely on top of the world, when I come home with a photo like this. Best thing is that I have a range of them.

In spite of the fact, that I need a hot shower, power is cheating on me, I freeze (not as much as yesterday), and I long for a cold beer and the tropical climate.

After all I'm a Dar Es Salaam girl...

But for now, it can all wait, this photo is worth all the kilometres, the cold bucket showers and the people observing me repeatedly.

Yeah!

Southern Highlands: Vastness & Solitude

It is Sunday night around eight o’clock.

 

Above me is the serene, dark sky, edged by the four walls of the little yard of the house of the family I’m staying with.

 

The moon and the stars are shining bright. The view is healing. I don’t know why, but it gives me the impression that there is more to life that an office job in the big city, though I doubt I could ever exchange the remote vastness of the Southern Highlands for a longer period of time with the kilele of the big city.

‘Have you ever seen such a clear sky?,’ my host, John asked last night.

 

I have. Once in northern Uganda, where we drove by the back roads between Arua and Koboko one night. And once I went by dhow from Bagamoyo to Zanzibar. But it doesn’t happen often. To see such a clear sky you need to be far off the infrastructure. In Denmark it isn’t possible.

 

I have no exact idea of where I am, but far off the infrastructure. The village is called Kanani, and it is no more than a few scattered houses, two churches and a school. I left Iringa Sunday morning at 9 o’clock, and met with John in Makumbako two hours later. Makumbako is a trading centre and a junction for the traffic moving up from Zambia via Mbeya, and to and from Songea, a town close to the Mozambique border.

 

BuI lost track when we drove off the road at Halali Village 22 kilometres after Makumbako on the road to Mbeya. We circled for 30 kilometres through Ilembula Village, where I waited for John to have a haircut; then to Mambegu junction; and finally the last 2,5 kilometres to Kanani.

 

To our right we had the blue Livingstone Mountains at Lake Nyasa. Livingstone made it all the way down here, entering from Mikindani at the southern coast of Tanzania. Years before he did another trip, the one he died of. (I think) 

Someone is beating the drum, walking round the few houses which make up Kanani.

‘All people are requested to show up to make bricks tomorrow for the school toilets,’ my hosts explain.

We are far out. At least that is what I’m thinking as the life here is such a contrast to where I come from.

Even to Dar Es Salaam, which in this perspective has got it all; power, newspapers and people; network and tarmac.

 

The wind rustled the house all night. It was freezing cold when I woke up this morning, and slid my feet into a pair of cold malapa. The procedures for my morning toilette were another cold affair, and I’m soon to long for a warm shower.

Nevertheless, how often does an mzungu get a chance to stay with a local African family? I get it too seldom. And if offered we are likely to say no, because it takes extra energy to stay without these amenities we have grown into not living without.

 

Today I have been facilitating a training session on how to make a newsletter for John’s organisation, Njombe Agricultural Development Association (NADO), and right now, here at the end of it, I’m impressed with our progress, and the fact that it got concrete. Tomorrow will show if I’m too optimistic.

 

More about it later, my laptop battery is running low.

Iringa: May I recommend the Copenhagen Suite?!

I still find it overwhelming and far out to take my car and drive into Africa, and find a hotel. All on my own.

Several times I have also hung out the car, asking my way, in spite it now seems obvious. The first time I drove to Iringa two years ago, I couldn't find the town itself.

I now know that it is hidden away on a cliff 1600 metres above sea level. But nobody said anything about that.

A classic European idea, in this case the German colonisers, to build a town here where the climate is cool. The Germans though had trouble settling issues with the local chief from the Hehe tribe, Mtwa Mkwawa, who later committed suicide in 1898 rather than surrendering himself to the Germans. Tanzanian core history took place in this area.

On Uhuru Avenue I parked my car outside Annex of Staff Inn. The place has this peculiar thing - every room has a name after a town.

No evident system, but I got the Copenhagen Suite.

Photos: Baobab Valley and the Great Ruaha River

I have arrived from Dar Es Salaam to Iringa. Quite a drive, I must say, partly due to road works along the way. Sponsored by the Danes by the way. Almost felt proud to be Danish for a moment here today; frequent readers know how happy I am of tarmac.

It is almost two years ago I drove this distance, and I kept thinking of it as longer.

Stunning scenery, nevertheless. The drive from Mikumi along the Great Ruaha River in particular is a breathtaking experience. The river flows massively through green vegetation below reddish brown cliffs which are covered by thousands of baobabs.

Today the sun made the baobabs beam like silver lathered over the mountain sides; their branches reaching for pieces of the blue sky.

And I caught a bunch of smily bi-cyclists shouting 'mzungu' and 'picha'.

Nakwenda bara ya Africa: Off to the Southern Highlands

I have made strong coffee, fresh tangerine juice with ginger and a packed lunch, burnt soundtracks on CDs (lots of Morcheeba and obviously Johnny Clegg), found warm clothes for the Southern Highlands (which is very cold at this time of year), organised medicine, malaria test kit and a net, sorted the photo equipment, the cables, the laptop, the external harddrive and the Vodafone modem (believing I'll be online in bara ya Africa). Now trying to localise the panga for the car; up-dating my Facebook status; then off to Iringa; Sunday to Njombe.

Buying the coconuts for Njombe on the road. Life's an adventure and I'm taking a big part of it.

Follow my trip here.

Contemporary Tanzanian Design: The Watchman's Chair

I'm shaped by a culture which puts an enormous pride into its design of i.e. furniture.

Danes pay a lot to decorate their homes with furniture and assecories carefully selected. Design is part of Danish culture and the identity of our home.   

Personally, one side of me loves Danish design, and I do appreciate that it is characterised by Nordic lightness and pure, natural fabrics of good quality.

But in most cases I can't afford it, or I simply find it too 'clean' or 'thought about'. Within my collection of furniture and items, which at present are stored at my brother's farm in Denmark - and supposedly are to re-make my home in Denmark - I do expect to relocate a few items which can be tagged 'classic Danish design'. But they are either inherited or bought second-hand, and besides, after four years in boxes I don't even remember what I have, and I don't really care that much.

Living here - on a way more minimalistic level - makes me feel conveniently free of the demand to come on as someone who has got her Danish design in place.

The Tanzanian street design is based on what you have, is what you got. And to make that function. Functionality appears to be key. A classical Tanzanian design is the 'watchman's chair'. Any compound or shop has a watchman who needs a chair. It often appears that if it wears out, he'll have to fix it himself. And he does.

Resulting in the fact that watchmen's chairs are highly, personalised items of contemporary Tanzanian design.

This one on the photo is from Kisutu in central Dar Es Salaam, and is in fact constructed by two different chairs, living fully up to the principle of making what you've got,  function.

Simultaneously action along the Swahili Coast...

The first of three undersea cables bringing high-speed internet to eastern Africa goes live on Thursday (today or next Thursday?), according to BBC Africa. The switch will take place simultaneously in the Kenyan port city of Mombasa, Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, Maputo in Mozambique and Mtunzini in South Africa. The switchover from relying mainly on satellites to the submarine cable is expected to massively increase connection speeds.

Mr Salim (Symbiotic Media Consortium, a software firm in Nairobi) says that Africa's potential is being hindered by the absence of fast internet connectivity and this technological advance will open new avenues. 'You'll see a lot of YouTube and Facebook stuff now made for Africa by Africans', he says.

In fact, I think we can't even imagine what that means. I've by far gotten used to the speed of my connection, but I do have access to the Internet, and I know how to use the Internet. Many out of the 43 million Tanzanians are likely not to be frequent users in the near future.

Hence, I'm holding my breath a tiny bit longer. Because, finally getting the undersea cables in place along the coast is one thing; the cables also have to go underground when they reach land, and then from Dar Es Salaam to the rest of Tanzania, at least parts of it. And finally, there has to be power, computers and know-how.

Apologies for hitting a pessimistic note; development takes time and this is the right way.

Unfortunately, I'm on the road on Thursday, I'd liked to experience the impact of something happening simultaneously along the Swahili Coast. Also I'm slightly curious on how soon Dar Es Salaam actually can feel the difference.

Link: Bongo the Film

I'm passing on this link to Bongo the Film. Check it out: 

From the streets of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, comes a film about opportunity. Bongo, from the Swahili word for “brain”, represents the cunning resourcefulness that it takes to survive on the streets of Dar es Salaam and, for that, the city takes its nickname.

Also thanks to Bongo the Film for Twittering a cool reference to me: 'bongofilm - Came across some amazing shots by artist/aidworker/blogger living in Dar es Salaam. Check it out: http://tinyurl.com/lyhkhd @PernillaAfrika.'

(Makes me feel very cool).

Tanzanian Logic: How to serve Konyagi correctly?

I was at a party some weeks ago at a roof top terrace in Namanga, in Dar Es Salaam, where people were drinking Konyagi.

A witty guy explained that when to serve a bottle of Konyagi correctly, it has to lie down.

'Why?,' the ignorant mzungu asked in anticipation as were the guy about to reveal a national secret.

'Because the man on the label will get tired if standing up all night.'

I hope they have Konyagi in stuck for the Bongo Flava party in Copenhagen (below), or it just isn't right.

Bongo Flava Party in Copenhagen (with Mzungu Kichaa)

The poster is in Danish, but I'm sure that English and Kiswahili work fine at the party. But hurry up, the tickets move fast.

Girls and boys wear ear plugs. Not just in Africa.

There's a Flickr group for almost anything. Now here's one for girls and boys wearing ear plugs (!), which I initially thought was another project to make Africans look overtly tribal.

But in fact, it isn't.

My contribution is this little girl in the photo above collecting water at one of the bomas in Orpopong'ni Village in Kiteto District in Maasailand. The Maasai girl have their ears pierced - this one recently. Fascinating, if you can avoid thinking of the pain.

But - take a look at the other photos in the group here: Other people outside Africa go tribal, too.

Stop Making Sense: Once In A Lifetime

The lyrics of an old Talking Heads song popped up in my head yesterday:

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself - well...how did I get here?

Sounds relatively familiar.

Blogging from paradise: How to use blogging as a part of your job?

My Kenyan friend, Liz Mwambui, who's also among my favorite bloggers at The Deeper Meaning of Life, has left Nairobi for the Seychelles. To save paradise.

She's now blogging on Saving Paradise - while working for a leading environmental organisation in the Western Indian Ocean and the Birdlife partner in Seychelles.

The blog is regularly updated with photos and text about very specific issues related to the organisation's work. However, I'd like to emphasise Saving Paradise in particular for Liz' way of using blogging and other new media as part of her job, and I believe it could serve as inspiration to others.

Bagamoyo Wall Grafitti Poetry

No retreat

No surrender

No true love

No job

No house

No money

No girlfriend

No car

A grafitti poem on a wall in Bagamoyo.

I love it.

Don't we all know the feeling when we hit bottom:

No girlfriend.

No car.

I take it that the inspiration must have come out of trying to make a living from being an artist - and from the Civic United Front slogans...

Swahili Style Obsessions

I'm obsessed with a certain motive, which for the past 10 years has repeated itself over and over again. From my time in the Balkans, Uganda and now in Tanzania.

A circular object, presenting something full of colour and texture. Preferably on a table, which adds depths to the motive.

I went to Bagamoyo today, and didn't realise till I saw my photostream that this motive must be a favorite.

These three motives are truly Swahili:

• Kahawa na kashata.

• Cashew nuts.

• Fried cassava.

Purinam Restaurant. (Yes, there's a life outside the Dar Es Salaam Yacht Club...)

A personal, favorite mantra is to hate the Dar Es Salaam Yacht Club (but not enough to stay away if invited). Basically I'm against the idea that a certain group of people can decide who else they'll allow access to its premises through procedures which are too conservative for my liking.

Besides, if you end up finally becoming a fully granted member, you have to spend every f***ing single night in the rest of your Dar es Salaam residency life there among all the other sun-dried wazungu in order to benefit from your membership fee.

I could go on & on about this phenomenon, but it wasn't the intentional plan for this post.

I am, however,  wondering why many wazungu in Dar es Salaam never go anywhere else, but in circles on Msasani, the most expensive area in Dar es Salaam, also called the Peninsula. Nice area, but also such a diluted version of what Dar es Salaam really is.

At least that's how I look upon it. Or maybe I am rendering a projection, as I don't get invited enough to the Yacht Club?

Which might be the reason I have to go other places.

Today I went to Kisutu again with some friends, who were in town looking for dresses to wear for a wedding. Somewhere around Libya Street we found Purinam Restaurant, which I was told is a must. Smiling faces behind the counters, opening up and talking as soon the camera got out. A place like this has operated for decades in the same fashion.

History. And culture right at your hands.

Fascinating.

AIDS and Polygamy: A fairly relevant question (where I live)

Ugandan Insomniac launches this photo above of a poster under the headline 'AIDS info for the 'real' African man' here.

In Tanzania polygamy is permitted by law with the consent of the man's first wife. Upon registration before marriage, parties are to declare whether marriage is polygamous, potentially polygamous, or monogamous, and marriage may be 'converted' to polygamous or monogamous by joint declaration.

Imagine having to answer these questions when someone proposes to you (or set it up for you). I hope I am not being too culturally insensitive, but somehow this arrangement seems to be mainly in favour of the man, at least when it comes to sex. Take a look at the illustration on the poster, where the man's position is clearly put in perspective.

And finally, for the advice on polygamy and AIDS on this poster: Though highly relevant in a country where polygamy is a widespread and socially acceptable fact, there is in my opinion too many unknown factors (to many 'ifs'), which makes it rather useless in the real world, aka Africa.

Truth. Come to Africa, and we'll give you the truth.

I don't think I have ever received a compliment here in Africa without it having a realistic touch to it. Or maybe I should call it a statement, and not a compliment, for what I regard as positive might be negative here and hence not necessarily a compliment in my perspective.

I.e., I'm being told that I look thinner than usual, that it appears as if I'm slimming (which is not always a compliment here, where fat people are considered free of 'the disease we don't talk about'), but that before I used to be very fat.

Right. Eh. Whatever. Sema tena...!

Somehow, I like that. I mean, I don't always like to be told the truth, but I suppose there really is more in a statement when you know it is uttered free from the heart and based on what that person really sees. Cutting to the bone.

In Denmark the concept of giving compliments is, in comparison, that much more complicated, as compliments are not always based on the truth, but maybe only uttered when you have something good to say, or given based on what you believe the respective person wants to hear.

But it is somehow strange to receive a statement which is meant as a compliment, just not in your own culture. In fact, it can mean the complete opposite.

Or maybe I don't get any of it.

I'm only 23...

'I'm only 23,' my friend replies, while we are drinking champagne, struggling with the amount of candles on the cake at her birthday party tonight at Slipway.

'But how old are you for real?' 'one of the guests repeats the question.

'I'm only 23,' my friend repeats.

'But how old are you?,' the guest turns to me and asks.

'I'm one year younger,' I say. Which is true. I happen to know my friend's real age.

The deal here is that you always state your age younger. It is just not a question of vanity. Partly maybe. However, here the age for retirement is relatively low compared to Europe, so many Tanzanians lie themselves younger in order to keep up employment.

'And that's why I won't say my real age,' my friend explains. 'Because then they will add on to that, assuming I'm much, much older.'

Champagne on an ordinary Tuesday surely makes me feel younger. 

Today's Quote

You have to be lost in order to find a place that cannot be found.
--Capt. Barbosa (Pirates of the Carribbean)

Obama in Africa (only a reflexion in Tanzania)

Yesterday I came by this Tinga Tinga painting in Oysterbay in Dar Es Salaam.

A young boy is holding up a mirror (?), reflecting Obama in front of the Kilimanjaro.

But he wasn't here.

Was he...?

NB. The painting isn't finished, and is lacking some colouring.

What is it with Johnny Clegg's wife?

After a Johnny Clegg concert in Johannesburg on June 29 2008 I ecstaticly admitted that I had googled 'Johnny Clegg's wife'. No interesting results came up, though. But I realise I am not the only one. In fact, at present 'Johnny Clegg's wife' seems to be the most popular top search word leading to my blog.

Last Searches (max 25 shown)

• freshwater fish species (18 hours ago)
• johnny clegg's wife (1 day ago)
• johnny clegg's wife (1 day ago)
• obama (1 day ago)
• mzungu kichaa (2 days ago)
• obama in africa, pernille (3 days ago)
• nkoaranga (4 days ago)
• saba (5 days ago)
• johnny clegg's wife (5 days ago)
• indian, dar es salaam (5 days ago)
• johnny clegg's wife (6 days ago)
• johnny clegg's wife (7 days ago)

Apologies to Mrs. Clegg.

Africa, How' You Doing?!

Stole the graphic icon from my friend at Scarlett Lion Liberia.

And I love it, too.

Originally it comes from this site, where Bono shares his somewhat predictable views on Africa, though I gotta give it to the man: He doesn't sit still.

Maybe things really are changing in terms of rebranding Africa? Or maybe Bono comes round too seldom?

Tanzanian Kanga Tribute: Michael Jackson

If the Tanzanians love you for real, the image of your face wil eventually be found on a kanga. In Uhuru Street in Kisutu the MJ kanga was found in bulk yesterday.

The kanga sellers reported a bit differently on the progress of the sale. That it sells quuickly, or that it takes some time before people will know of it.

With the kangas it works like this: You see someone else wear a specific kanga, you want it, and you start asking at your local kanga shop - or you go to the place nearest to the source: Uhuru Street in Kisutu.

Today's Photo: Kanga and kahawa in Kisutu

Testng RAW and Lightroom.

On innocent people in Kisutu, Dar Es Salaam.

I really need a decent, comprehensive and professional photo course sometime soon.

And a sponsor.

Obama is in Africa today

Today President Obama is heading to Ghana. It's his first trip to Africa as President and the ONE campaign had just posted a short film, "Yes, Africa Can" that captures the excitement on the ground. The accompanying text explains that Ghanaians of all ages and backgrounds tell about their country's progress and its prospects for the future. What you'll see in this film is an illustration of Ghana's success and the palpable pride Ghanaians feel about their democracy, peace and unity as a country.

View the film here. I personally know too little of Ghana to question what I do read as a bit saturated positivity, but reading this article here on BBC Africa by Elizabeth Ohene, a former government minister in Ghana and former BBC journalist, balances things a bit more.

Having Obama coming to your country is a big thing in Africa. Ironically, in spite we are talking high politics, it is also a matter of emotions and pride. Basically very human. East Africa has its obamania, as documented in photography here and words here, and it is interesting to observe the competition for being the first African president to welcome him.

Kenya wasn't lucky this time, and according to the Times Online'The Kenyan Government and its notoriously corrupt and quarrelsome ministers are not happy. Last week President Obama spoke of his worries about recent developments in Kenya. “I’m concerned about how the political parties do not seem to be moving into a permanent reconciliation that would allow the country to move forward,” he said.'

I believe that on Obama's list over places to go, not just Kenya, but many African contries come last. However, do note Elizabeth Ohene's words here.

When home is where you family is: At the other end of the world

These are not my photos, but I wish they were.

They are taken by my Icelandic brother-in-law's cousin, Hjalti Arnason, who lives in northern Iceland - Saudarkrokur in Skagafjordur. Hjalte is an excellent photographer, and I have just realised how much it means to know someone in the other end of the world putting daily photos of high quality on display in cyberspace.

June-July is the best period to visit Iceland, and it is way too long since I went there. Hjalti makes me miss my family in Iceland big time, but I can also see that they are well: On the two first photos my nephew, Baltasar, is playing with his friend, Hjalti's daughter. And the last photo is from the fell above Saudarkrokur looking into Skagafjordur, where my sister lives with her family.

This is what eventually will pull me off the continent. And home.

Visiting the Kamusi Project working in Dar Es Salaam

I am a very fond and frequent user of the Kamusi Project’s dictionary, and Wednesday last week I was invited to visit the Kamusi Project working in Dar Es Salaam.

The invitation said that 'the week had been organised by tzLUG (the Tanzania Linux Users Group) and Kamusi Project International in association with ANLoc (the African Network for Localization), with the support of IDRC (International Development Research Centre), and that it is hosting a blitz to complete at least 15 Tanzanian language locales this week.’

The Kamusi Project is a collaborative work by people all over the world working to establish new dictionaries and learning resources for Kiswahili - both within Swahili and between Swahili and English. Kiswahili is the most widely spoken African language, with as many as 100 million speakers in East and Central Africa. Kiwahili is a national language of Tanzania, Kenya, and Uganda, and it is an official language of the African Union.

I found the tzLUG group after walking up five stairs in the NRC Life House building on the corner of Ohio Street and Sokoine Drive. Hamna umeme - no electricity. On the 5th floor I found a tiny room full of Tanzanian twenty-somethings scattered around laptops and cables.

They almost lost me there.

And I still don’t know exactly what a ‘blitz’ or a ‘locale’ is. And I had to google ‘kamusi’ only to find out that it means ‘dictionary’.

So I asked them why they had decided to spend all their free time in a tiny room in the centre of Dar for a whole week - to do something so unusual: to volunteer?

Some of the answers were:

- My name appears (on the product), and I feel proud.

- No other person will do it.

- You learn.

- It is the future of IT in Bongo (Dar Es Salaam). 

One of the concrete ideas behind the Kamusi Project is to make it possible that you don't have to know English in order to use IT. Another that the different IT products use the same vocabulary for the same things.

In Tanzania, along with other African nations, the oral tradition favours the written word. In today's world managing the written word gives power. Hence, securing and developing a language in terms of structure and vocabulary adjusted to the current development is of great significance - not just for a national or cultural identity, but also on an individual level: If you use Kiswahili to formulate your first thought, or if this is the language you dream in, Kiswahili is a fundamental part of you.

Check the Kamusi Project here, and note that you can support the project.

10 things to do in Dar Es Salaam...what are your favorites?

I get that question quite often. I usually know what to suggest (though a lot of people forget to explain what they expect in terms of price, interests and quality).

Most guide books tell you to skip Dar Es Salaam and go straight to your next destination. In fact, the majority of visitors to Dar Es Salaam tend to follow that advice, but if you appear to come through Dar with time to kill or if you as an expat have visitors to entertain, – or simply as me – actually like Dar Es Salaam for what it is, give it a try.

Amongst my favorites are (click):

1. Kanga shopping in Uhuru Street.

2. South Indian food at the Badminton Institute.

3. A walk from Mission Street via Mosque Street - maybe all the way down to Kariakoo.

4. Music, art performance or drinks at Dar Alive/Malaika House or the next door Cine Club.

5. Mishkaki at Jackie's on Haile Selassie

6. A visit to the National Museum and a walk round the Botanical Garden

7. Swimming in the Indian Ocean at the Southern or Northern Beaches.

8. Flying over Dar Es Salaam.

9. Exploring the colourful nightlife - from Mediterraneo, Cine Club, Dar Alive, Trinity to Level8.

10. A trip to Bongoy Island.

But there is so much more. I am about to write an article, encouraging people to check out Dar Es Salaam, in stead of rushing through.

 

If you have any favorites, you'd like to share, please do let me know.

African Weather

I know I write a lot about the weather in Africa.

I am such a cliche, I want it to be African sky blue and copper sun sinking low all the time, which also makes up a main reason for why I like to live in Dar Es Salaam. Lakini, looking out my window from the office in Upanga the weather resembles an average Danish summer: Gray, unpredictable and cold.

Yesterday the weather was - fortunately - as it should be on a Saba Saba - crossing with the Magogoni Ferry from Kigamboni.

Kenya: Tackling corruption via spitting image puppets

From the BBC Africa:

At a recent prayer breakfast in Kenya, religious matters were pushed aside and instead gluttony was the order of the day.

President Mwai Kibaki struggled to eat a whole chapatti in one go, Prime Minister Raila Odinga spilt tea down his suit and Vice-President Kalonzo Musyoka struggled after getting a sausage stuck in his mouth.

Luckily, these were just puppets being filmed in the cramped dining room of a Nairobi home for the latest of 13 episodes of the XYZ show.

More here.

Tanzanians soon to be introduced to a national dress

African Bambataa puts politics in interesting perspective in a blog post called Things That Make You Go Hmmmm... when linking to this article from the Guardian, which certainly also made me - along with African Bambataa - wonder about the government's priorities:

Tanzanians will soon be officially introduced to a national dress, a move that would help put in place a dressing code to preserve African tradition norms and culture, the Parliament was told yesterday.

Responding to a question by Hafidhi Ali Tahir (Dimani, CCM), who had wanted to know if Tanzania has a national dress, Deputy Minister for Information, Sports and Culture, Joel Bendera said the process of introducing a national dress was progressing well.

Bendera admitted that the style of dressing by most young Tanzanians was not satisfactory despite efforts made by the government and its stakeholders in sensitizing the community on decent dressing.

“If this habit is left unchecked, it might lead to moral decay among young Tanzanians,” he said, adding that dressing in provocative outfit presents a negative picture of the nation. “The whole nation, I believe, is not impressed by this,” he said.

He said the government has been issuing directives on indecent dressing through music groups, artists and beauty contestants.

Bendera said the government realizes that if this culture is left unchecked, it will also affect the future generation of the country.

“The task of discouraging this habit should not be left to the government alone. The whole community, especially the parents and the guardians should play a role in this,” he said.

Unfortunately the article is avoiding asking questions which could shed light on why and how this proposal is going to be implemented in real life.

Acclimatising: Tropical Winther and Warm Beer

Acclimatise means getting used to a certain climate. The sign board is from Kilimanjaro Airport, and I simply don't understand it:

Arusha is already cold, so, why would someone have a cold beer to cool down?

Weather changes significantly in June and July in Dar Es Salaam, which is usually tropically hot and humid. It gets colder, windier, more cloudy and less humid. The temperature drops from 32 to 25-27 degrees.

I never use air-condition, but during the past months I have switched off the fan. I sleep with two duvet covers, where I'd sleep with a kikoy the rest of the year.

I don't like it. I prefer it as tropically, steamy, hot humid as it gets. 

A final note on the beer; It is not unusual that the waiter in your local bar asks if you like your beer warm or cold. It is usually a question which makes the majority of wazungu frown.

But you don't drink cold beer, if you are freezing for real, and I think a lot of Tanzanians are at the moment.

And this this is our winther.

Repetition: Saba Saba

Last year I forgot that it was the Saba Saba, and went to work. I won't tomorrow.

Saba Saba is not meant for working.

The seventh day of the seventh month is an important day in Tanzania's history. On July 7 1954 Tanganyika African National Union (TANU) was founded by Julius Nyerere, who lead Tanzania to its independence in 1961. It also refers to the Dar es Salaam International Trade Fair held every year at this date in the Saba Saba grounds in Dar es Salaam.

Make the most of it. Expat Existentialism

Quite a few of the people I have got to know over the past four years living in Africa have left or are in the process of returning to Europe. I don't understand how they do it. I know it sounds irrational, and it is nothing but a completely irrational feeling: I don't understand how they can leave Africa. I do know on the rational account that contracts terminate and that some of us are tied to places in Europe due to family, friends, bank loans and work.

A final return is simply an avoidable part of the deal. My brain knows that I have to get a real job in the real world at some point down the line. That I need to reconnect with my family, that it is highly absurd that other people get to spend valuable time with my Icelandic nephew, while I am away. But the rest of me simply doesn't reconcile with the fact that Africa can be over and maybe never be again.

The last time it happened in June 2007, I left the decision to the destiny (and it worked).

I know that the returnees struggle with the return as a concept and with integration into European life. I know that I will when my turn is up. My time is in fact approaching again, and hard decisions must be made. Four years in Africa, which initially was only meant to be two years, is a long time. For the last couple of months I have made minus-and-plus lists, balanced rationality with emotions, the fantastic options I get via my job contra my personal dilemma with the development world in general.

I haven't made a clear decision yet. In stead I end up saying yes to all I can get my hands on. More trips deep inside. More dinner invitations, parties, drinks, lunches, trips to the beach, more photography, more interesting assignments, more walks into the centre of Dar Es Salaam. Squeezing out what ever possible of Africa while I am still on the continent.

I feel so extremely priviledged when friends in Denmark tell me that they are missing Africa. I congratulate myself that it isn't me.

Yet.

The Kilimanjaro Beer slogan says 'Make the most of it'. For now it feels like the only right thing to do.

I'm off to fetch some water...

...am back in some hours.

Sauti za Busara 2010

Now is the week of the Danish Roskilde Festival, held every year in the first month of July. I don't do Roskilde anymore - it seems - but I'll use the opportunity to pass on a message from East Africa's friendliest music festival, Sauti za Busara:

After six successful festivals in Zanzibar, Busara Promotions urgently needs to acquire its own quality sound, lighting and stage equipment. If you have contacts for organisations that may be able to supply us with new/used equipment either by donation or at a reasonable price, do let us know. A full list of requirements can be supplied on request.

Such technical equipment is in extremely short supply in Tanzania and is a resource that can be used throughout the year to generate employment and enhance the social and cultural lives of the region, as well as to build financial sustainability for the festival.

Read more here. Busara also calls for artists and sponsors.

And finally, do read my previous blog posts from Sauti za Busara 2008 and 2009 here.

Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world...

When I was in Maasailand in January, I had a bit of time to kill in Kimana Village, while we were filming.

A rather rough place. Evidently heavily marked of the general pressure on land. In Kimana Village the Maasai live side by side with the Wagogo and the Wahehe – people from other tribes deriving as far away as Dodoma and Iringa.

In fact, to me it resembled the Sudanese refugee settlements and the internally displaces people’s camps in northern Uganda: Sun burnt land. People scattered around the trading centres waiting for the rain.

Hanging out.
Getting drunk.
Very drunk.

On cheap karanga.

The smell of fermenting millet greets you from the afar. Well mixed with the smell of fresh meat put out to dry in the sun. Sort of the Maasai version of the South African biltong.

‘How to make karanga?,’ I asked.

A woman with a utensil resembling a paddle, explained that you take a bag of millet, a bag of sugar and some water. Then you pick enough firewood from around, and put the ingredients in a big oil drum. Boil it all day, while you stir. You leave it overnight to ferment, and it is ready to be sold.

Karanga is not just a Tanzanian phenomenon, it comes in many variations all over Africa. In South Africa and Zimbabwe it is common to throw in meat (!) or fruit, I have been told, to support the fermenting process - and the flavour, maybe?

One portion costs 25,000 TSH to produce, and will make about 100 servings, 250 TSH a cup. Hence, the profit is about 15,000 per portion.

The woman, I spoke to, will do this once a week. Most women do this in order to support their children.

I asked if the karanga caused any problems (while trying to get out of the way as an old man subconsciously wobbled his way through leaving a pong of liquid still in the process of fermenting.)

‘Not really,’ the woman stated. ‘If you drink a lot, you’ll sleep.’

Abuse exists everywhere in the world, in particular in places with high depression and potential conflict. For the ones who don't fall asleep, the karanga fuels agression, making life even more basic and raw, from the ingredients to the impact.

However, here, it is a way to make a living

3 interesting articles from the East African

Sex in a time of famine

An example from Kenya on how one specific problem leads to another: climate change→draught→famine→prostitution→HIV→

EA has to wait longer for Seacom, Teams cables

The thing we are all waiting for: A decent Internet (price and speed wise) in Tanzania. However, the process is delayed, but who would have guessed that the reason for the delay is to do with the Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean (!!)

“They’re (the cable-laying ships) very slow when they’re laying the cables and they really can’t get away,” the article explains.

Pornography, drugs boom as our cities fill up with lonely people

When I lived in Uganda 'the personals' in the Ugandan newspapers were always splendid entertainment as they usually put a very explicit life on display. “Newly arrived Indian girls” and “European ladies,” is only one example.

Enjoy.