Assante Africa

I am sure there are many sides to Africa. I can't pretend to know them all in only a few short days. But 1 of which we are all at least peripherally aware, and I have now had a chance to see first hand, is the poverty. I doubt you could come here and not see it. 


It's pretty visible, even from the passenger seat of a safari jeep. If you are paying attention you can even see it in the most luxurious hotels: the service is exceptional, and for the hope of a 1 or 2 dollar tip you are treated like an absolute king. I've seen grown men bend over backwards to do the simplest things I could easily do myself, handle my disgustingly dirty laundry with the utmost care, not to mention meticulously manicure the hotel lawns by hand, and then beam when they see my hand go into my pocket. The people here are very willing, even eager, to work and will do whatever they can to improve their economic situation. But their options are limited. My only regret leaving here was that I didn't bring more cash with me to be able to tip more generously. 

If you have any amount of conversation with the guides, hotel staff, and shop keepers, which I did a lot since I was traveling alone (and now glad that I did... I would have learned a lot less if I had been in a group and more drawn to just comparing travel stories and first-world-problems), you will be asked a lot of questions about how much your trip is costing, followed by silence as they try to comprehend that sum, and told a lot about the relative incomes, costs, and hardships here. I am sure some of it is targeted, perhaps even choreographed, to draw out the largest tips and best prices they can get. I don't mind at all. I know you are supposed to haggle but it feels close-to-immoral to be able to pay thousands to come here and then nickel and dime the locals. I am happy to tip well and pay the asking price, knowing its still far less than what I would pay at home. The reality is, when it comes to money and being from Canada, there is more where that came from. By the way, if you are German and coming here, you need to do your country proud - leave any colonial attitudes at home open your wallet a bit - to a man every person I asked said your country-men were usually the worst clients. A shame given how friendly I've found you in your own country. British, Italians and French - you aren't too far behind them in their lists. Canadians and Scandinavians, we can hold our heads high as being at the top of their lists. Americans too, this is one area of the world you are loved. 

Yesterday I had a relaxed agenda, and so spent much of the day waiting around for my guide, Freddy, who was busy trying to find someone who could fix a problem we were having with our jeep. His concern over what his boss might think if he returned it in defective condition was evident, and he spent more than a quarter of his monthly income trying to rectify it. It gave me incredible opportunities to peer more into this side of Africa, and while not as exciting as the safaris, it was far more impactful. 

Jacob, the young manager at country lodge Karatu, upon hearing my guide say he will be at least another hour, said "do you want to go for a walk?"


Why are the unplanned events of a trip always the best?


We walked for an hour as he told me me about his life; his uneducated but good parents, his 9 brothers and sisters (common here, although everyone I've met under 40 has only 1-3 children), his daughter's schooling, his own schooling - he is taking a tourism diploma on top of a full time job (like I said, hard working people), and his dreams of starting his own business. Everyone I've met here shares that dream, and it's vital for the African economy that some do. I believe he will. He was determined and intelligent, the only one in his family to complete secondary (grade 8-12) school - his eldest sister married early, got a job, and made a lot of sacrifices to pay for that. He wouldn't have been able otherwise. 

We went to a field where a market had been held the day before, which meant it was now "the day for the bird's market" and was indeed filled with birds picking over the remains. There were people roaming about too, but I paid them little heed thinking they were just cleaning up. I did ask Jacob if that's what they are doing though. 

"Oh that is the street children". 


You know those moments when you notice something you hasn't before, and the whole world seems to shift in front of your eyes?


All of a sudden I realized those "people" were in fact young kids, rummaging through the garbage piles looking for food and anything else that might have some value. 

"They live on the street?"

"Many. Some in the government houses. Some have the parents, but they don't know the importance of education. Or, it is common here, for the woman to get the early pregnancies, maybe before she is married, and she has only a small place to sleep and uses the drink a lot instead of fighting with life. So her kids will come here to look for food, even though it is a school day. The teacher will not repeat the lecture again so when there is an examination they will fail. Their parents will not care. The government tries to help and provides them free schooling. But you know, the parent is your first teacher."

I was moved deeply as I stood there taking in all the information, verbally and visually, not sure what to say or do. 2 young boys kept looking over curiously, giggling with each other. I was picturing my own nephew doing this, and they were even younger than him, and was having a hard time not crying.

I had a half eaten corn-bread muffin in my hand that I had been eating on the walk, but wasn't sure if that was offensive to offer it - homeless people in Canada wouldn't accept it. But I asked and Jacob said sure, so I started walking towards them. They got even more excited and started running towards me, waving, smiling, and laughing, yelling "hello" over and over again with the most delightful sounding childish African accents. Even like this, kids are still kids and are - both full of, and a source of, joy. Another young girl approached with them, seeming more cautious and somewhat like a mother to the two boys. I suspect they know and look out for each other. Everyone here seems to, helping each other with whatever little they have. 

I broke the partial muffin in 3 and they each stepped forward with an open hand and gratefully ate the meager offering. I was mad at myself for not bringing my bag and being able to offer more, knowing I had a few granola bars left. Heck, I wanted to put them in my bag and take them with me. How could you not? It's hard to even write this and not tear up. I did have a litre of water left. It was hot and we had to walk back still, but again, there's more where that came from. I gave it to her and Jacob translated my request for her to share with the boys. 

Her name was Oseana. She was in standard 6, and already apparently fending for herself and looking out for the younger children. One boy was Nada, in standard 2. The other was Edward, who had never gone to school. Likely none of them will finish, and will struggle to eke out an existence their whole lives. The government houses and schools are there for them, but like Jacob said "your parent is your first teacher". 


By the way, thanks mom and dad. 


"you had good parents eh?" I asked. 

"ya. My dad was not bad, but my mom mostly - she was a good teacher. She was so strict and made us work so hard!" haha. Well, he was one of the youngest people I conversed with here, and the only one who had already bought some land and started building his own house - his family already living there without being able to finish it - so apparently it worked. The others were all saving what they could (you can't get a loan here anyway, unless you have a government job), but all just hoping to one day make that kind of progress. "If God wishes" they like to say. 

Freddy came back with the truck shortly after we got back and we drove to quietly to the next town, he a little worried about the repairs they didn't have the tools to complete and myself still a little disturbed by the economic inequality of my situation to the locals and wondering what I could do about it. We got to mosquito creek village (nice name eh?) where I was dropped off to meet my local guide Latif and Freddy headed out to try to find another garage. Latif took me on a walk through the village. With 20,000 people representing over half of the country's 120 tribes. (despite my previous assumptions of inter-tribal tensions in Africa, at least here in Tanzania they have done a bang up job of moving past that in the post colonial era. Freddy said their first president was a great man who made sure that "first, we are all tanzanians - one language, one people". I've not seen any hint of tribal boundaries, they intermarry freely, and speak highly of each others customs.  )

Despite its size, the town has only the paved highway, 2 dirt roads large enough for cars, and the rest is just mud walkways between people's houses and "farms". Mud and stick structures are as common as brick, and occasional "businesses" pop out in the most random locations - anywhere someone had a home and the capital to acquire something to start with: a barber's chair, a store inventory, or just produce from their garden. I could go on but when I post pictures in sure they will describe it better than I. 

Our tour took us to a local "pub"- a woman's home where she brewed banana beer that we got to try. It's unfiltered (you have to scrape the fermented schlopp off the top first) and quite frankly terrible. But the locals love it because it's cheap, abundant, and has almost 2% alcohol content. Personally I was just glad they showed me the fermenting room after I tried it. It's in large buckets of what looks more like cow dung than beverage, complete with buzzing flies all around, in, and on it. Did not get sick thankfully. 

Next was a local house where the family had prepared a traditional lunch for us. Some boiled polenta, plain rice, and also several vegetable and beef stews, some of which were so good I had to have seconds, even though I wasn't sure what was in it (ochre, eggplant, and tomatillos I think). 

Again the best part was the unplanned part. Freddy hadn't returned yet so we wondered through the central "shops" and market - my favorite being butchers row that had meat hanging everywhere and live cows you could see in the back. I tried a red banana from one vendor who had just picked it out of his yard that morning - it doesn't get any fresher than eating with people who literally live off the land. Then I bought us a couple of drinks and we sat at a local pub to cool off in the shade, and Latif told me more of his life. He has no salary, all the guides at the town's "cultural program" are self employed - meaning they are just given a little money when a travel company books a walking tour with them, plus whatever tips they get. His rent is only $25 a month (in Arusha it's more like $200), but is only 1 room and has no electricity. A cold water tap. A radio he can use when he can afford batteries. No tv or computer. His meals are mostly just boiled polenta and he seemed to enjoy the home cooked meal as much as I did - it may actually have been a big part of his "income" that day. He seemed a little more beaten down than the drivers and hotel staff I encountered in bigger town. I think here, like in Canada, there is more wealth in the cities than rural areas, only here lack of wealth really means something. On the flip side, the rural areas are also safer and friendlier than cities and we were able to walk around mostly undisturbed, except with frequent school children laughing and running up to say "hello" and grab my hand. You should have seen the look of bewilderment on one boy's face when he did that before I had finished re-applying sunblock. Why is this white guy slimy?!?! Hahaha!

Before driving bak to Arusha, we made one last stop at a Masai village. The Masai are the poor people in this poor country, living in mud and thatch huts with each large family camp surrounded by 5 foot high walls of thorny bushes for protection. They sang and did a bit of traditional dancing, gave me a tour of their homes, and then we were on our way. Apparently their payment is in the form of food as I saw Freddy give them some from a bag he had in the back. I remembered I had a couple large bottles of juice in the back we never needed and asked if I should give them those too which Freddy quickly approved. It feels so good here every time you have the opportunity to help in even a small way and see how gratefully it is received. 


What I think I've concluded in seeing this side of Africa is that eventually, the situation here will improve. As much as people talked about how life is now hard and things are getting more expensive, especially gas and electricity, they also all acknowledged that it is getting better, and they love their country. Here especially they are grateful for the peace they enjoy which many other African countries, including their neighbors, do not have. But it will take time to really get where it needs to be, and a happy ending is not guaranteed. 

I'm certainly no expert, but from the "Poor Story" book I read 2 years ago, 6 days of hanging out with locals, and my 30+ years of, um, "wisdom", my oversimplification of the problems here are this:

-  it has nothing to do with lack of resources: the country is rich in arable lands, gold, diamonds, tanzanite, tourist attractions, and recently some oil discoveries. 
- it has nothing to do with the people. They are incredibly amicable, eager to please, and willing to work far more so than we are. Almost every hotel staff that waited on me at night were the same staff waiting on me in the morning too. They have built a social fabric of trust and reciprocity here that is on par with (and required for) the best economies in the developed world. 
- that said, corruption and rule of law is a bit of a problem. Not as bad as other African countries, but still an issue that has to be remedied. 
- an uneven playing field with developed countries... That was the main take away I got from "Poor Story", a great read if you want to understand more. Short version is the rich get richer. 
- colonial era damage - as if the psychological damage of the slave trade wasn't bad enough (it's hard to ask questions about it to be honest), the traditional tribal ways of living were simply not prepared for the more developed and imperialistic European cultures they were hit with, and the power vacuum created afterwards has left much of the capital in the hands of south African and Indian business men. They've been left scrambling to catchup in a world that is changing ever faster and getting more expensive ever since, and it's not easy to catch a speeding train. 
- education - until recently, access to it has been very poor and being here is an eye opener to how important it really is. The difference in life quality between those like Jacob and Freddy who had good parents and got education, and the street kids who eventually grow up to be not-so-cute-but-even-more-desperate street vendors is, well, that description describes it actually. Even the Freddie's and Jacob's are a long way behind the average Canadian. The newspapers and magazines I've read here are written in very simple language that I doubt surpass a Canadian junior high reading level. Very few are able to get university degrees, and even a college diploma to learn how to work at a hotel is hard to afford. I just finished reading a local article about how the hotel industry can't find enough "skilled workers" to staff properly.  
- lack of capital - there's just none to be had here and most people live day to day with no option to access financing. Getting invited to apply for a credit card while walking through a mall might make their heads explode. 

I'll be honest, I haven't the slightest clue what to do about the first three issues. But I think there are a few things we can do about the other two, and I can't imagine anyone being able to come here and not want to help more (aside from those darn Germans :). 

1) contribute to education in developed countries. It wasn't that long ago Canada's education system was where tanzania's is today. I still remember my cousins being excited when the book mobile came to their town so they could borrow new books. I've seen the 1 room school houses that many rural Canadians went to as recently as 1 generation before mine. And I remember my grandma, just 2 generations ago, telling me she didn't go past grade 3. It's already better here than it was a few years ago, but anything we can do to speed that up will go along way to ending their poverty. The people here all talk about starting businesses but they really have no idea how to go about it... simple accounting and business plans that we could probably intuit well enough to succeed here without any further training entails concepts that are still quite foreign to average secondary school grad here. I'm willing to bet that local farmers could vastly improve their production if they simply had the ability to navigate around the Internet properly for even a few hours. There are so many other simple problems here that could improve the country's way of life if basic education was enhanced. 

I saw a sign last night with a picture of kids and a caption that summed up my feelings beautifully and precisely:


Nourish their bodies.
Feed their minds. 
Secure our future. 


 I probably should have just posted that and spared everyone my long-windedness. And my thumbs. They hurt now.  

2) make capital available through micro loan organizations like Kiva. You'll get your money back so it costs you nothing, but could help 1 person go from barely providing for his own family to providing employment for several others. 

3) travel. It's fun to do, and every dollar you spend here - for services people work hard to provide and truly earn versus just get - helps. 


I don't believe in handouts, but do in providing a hand up. I think the above actions qualify as such, and plan to do more now. I am confident that the more people who have do these for those who don't, the faster the Tanzanians will pull themselves well above the poverty line. And it is themselves who need to do it. I'm now confident they can and will. 


Freddy shared a very cool insight with me in the Serengeti. The national animal is a giraffe, which is first of all much cooler than a beaver. :P But he said the reason is because a giraffe is incapable of walking backwards so it always has to move forward. And this is the attitude the people have here, we have to always move forward. I think as their lives and economy improve they will solve the other systemic problems in time also. While there is some "hard feelings" towards a few specific European countries, I haven't sensed any of the bitterness one might expect. Only a lot of smiley people, and a determination to roll up their sleeves and get work.  


But a helping hand along the way never hurts. 


If you have a few more minutes, I'm hopeful the descriptions of what I've seen will encourage others to offer another one. Many hands make light work. 

Assante for reading. 

Gregor 
(What everyone seems to call me here, and I actually caught myself introducing myself like that this morning)

PS. Swahili is a beautiful language. I'd like to learn it someday. And the tribal languages that speak in clicks. :)

PPS. I love how they call everyone here "my friend"

PPPS. I got to the hotel last night just in time to drop off laundry, grab dinner, and get an email that my 3:30 flight had been cancelled and I needed to leave for the airport at 6AM, precisely 6 hours before my scheduled transfer. Thankfully Freddy had given me his phone number so I was able to call him and he made arrangements to get me an earlier ride. Also the Nairobi airport is pretty decent. I was worried what I was going to do in an Addis-Ababa-like airport for 7 hours. Shudder.