I caught a dalla-dalla at 9:30am from a stand near the Barker's house. The bus system in Tanzania is all privately owned and there is always room for one more on the bus. They are cheap, even by Tanzania standards (about 20 cents a ride) and they are perpetually overcrowded. I made it down to Posta, the main post office, and waited until Godfry, one of the Tanzanian interns at CARE, arrived. He had promised to take me all over Dar today and warned me to wear good walking shoes because we were going to cover a big chunk of the city on foot.
First we walked around City Center and he pointed out various buildings of interest: the tallest building in the country, the national bank, various ministries and embassies, etc. Then we went into the National Museum, which has a rather hodge-podge feel about it, but was interesting nonetheless. The museum is undergoing some major renovations so only two buildings were open. The first building contains the history of Tanzania from the stone age to the near present, documenting the settlement of early Bantu peoples, almost two thousand years of global trade, colonialism, and independence. A big chunk of this part of the museum was dedicated to describing the life of Mwalimu J. K. Nyerere, the first president of Tanzania and leader of the independence movement. To get to the second building, we passed through a courtyard that contained all of the cars that Nyerere used while in office. For a self-proclaimed socialist leader, the man rode in style in his BMWs and Rolls Royces. The second building was much less coherent than the first and contained things like two million year old human skulls, Masai weapons, and a bicycle made completely from wood.
Next we walked along the beach past the state house, president's mansion and his neighbor, the prime minister's house. This road led us directly to the fish market where Godfry wanted to stop and say hello to a former CARE employee who had taken up the fish selling business. I guess you can make more as a fish monger than a NGO employee, even in a third world country. He was a very friendly guy and, in typical Tanzanian fashion, he invited me over for dinner.
From the fish market, we caught another dalla-dalla to Kariakoo, which Godfry claims is the second largest market on the continent. I believe him. The market is literally the size of a suburb. Just imagine if your city placed all of its business establishments into one place, everything from the shopping mall to the hardware store, the office supplies and beauty boutiques, grocery stores and road side stands. It's all there in one crowded, loud, dusty place. There are little shops crowding both sides of the street and there are hawkers selling everything from electronics to ladies' underwear overflowing off the sidewalks. The streets themselves are filled with people. It was like the streets of New York during a festival, except today was just an ordinary day at the market. We spent an hour walking around, never seeing the same street twice and never leaving the boundaries of Kariakoo.
When 1pm rolled around we were both tired and hungry. Godfry was worried that the food wasn't good at the market. I'm inclined to be cautious about food here, since a mistake can leave you chained to a toilet for two weeks. We hopped on another bus to ride out to a place near where Godfry's brother lives. I had a fried fish with rice and Godfry had fried chicken. I paid as a thank you for taking me around and the bill came out to around $5 for two people. He escorted me back to Posta where I said goodbye and took the bus home. I was really worn out from the day, so I spent the evening reading the Barkers' copy of Jonathon Strange and Mr. Norrell.
Sunday Sally and I both woke up late. This means I got out of bed at around 7:30am and lounged around in my pajamas until 10am or so. Then Paul rode over with his laundry since the place he's staying at doesn't have a machine. He did a load and we set off on our bikes to pick up his friend, Gaysha. We rode down New Bagamoyo Rd until it became Bi. Titi Mohammad Rd and we split off down Ocean Rd, which ran parallel to the beach path Godfry and I had walked on Saturday. Even before you get to the ferry, you know it's coming up by the long line of cars waiting to board. I'm so glad we were on bikes because we passed them all by and rode right up to the ticket booth. It was only 200/- (17 cents) for the ride from City Center to Kigamboni peninsula. The ferry takes 5 minutes to cross the channel. There really should be a bridge there instead, and the government claims it will eventually build one, but there is no sign that that will happen soon. Pedestrians and those on bikes get across easily and those driving cars have to wait hours. Driving around the inlet would also take hours, so either way, car drivers are screwed. Here's a map to show you what I mean:
The top arrow is the ferry and the bottom is the direction we rode in for the beach. I've also included a black dote that is where I live and a red dote that is where the CARE offices are located.
After we got across it was another 10 kilometers to our destination: a beach resort on South Beach. It was 3000/- to get onto the beach, but the attendant handed us drink vouchers for the bar worth the same. The beach was so beautiful! I have this idea about myself that I'm not much of a beach person, but every time I'm at a beach I definitely become one. The combination of water, breeze and sun just makes me want to lie in the sand and sleep for hours. I splashed around in the water for a bit, had overpriced veggie curry for lunch and then napped in the sun for a few hours. My drink voucher eventually went toward a mojito, which was too heavy on the lime but still pretty good. Tanzania doesn't have silly things like a trade embargo with Cuba, so you can actually buy a mojito here with Cuban rum in it. Imagine that.
Since we are right on the equator here, we only get 12 hours of sun, no matter the season. At around 5pm the sun was beginning to set so we brushed the sand off ourselves as best as possible and hopped back on our bikes. It was much easier getting back to the ferry since it was slightly down hill in this direction. The trip back was uneventful, except that I almost ran over a chicken that dashed in front of my bicycle. Stupid chicken. All in all, the ride was over 30 kilometers, which is probably the longest I have been on a bicycle ever. My butt will probably be sore all week and it really doesn't help that I have to ride to and from work every day. This morning was uncomfortable, but I think the beach was definitely worth it.
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