The weekend, then off to Tanga

This weekend I tried to relax and get some work done. Saturday I mostly stayed around the house, but I did take a nice bike ride around the peninsula and stop by the Slipway for some ice cream.

On Sunday, I wanted to go to Bagamoyo to see the ruins and the old slave trade head quarters. I was reading through my Lonely Planet guide book, and it turns out the tourist information center isn't open on Sundays. The thought of trying to deal with touts without the respite of a paid official to tell me which tours were legitimate didn't sound like a good idea. Instead I decided to check out the Village Museum. The guide book told me that the museum was across from the Mwenge carver's market, so I hopped on a dalla-dalla up to Mwenge. I got out and wandered around for 10 minutes, not seeing anything that resembled a museum. I finally asked someone, and it turns out the museum is back towards where I came from and nowhere near the market. Lonely Planet: you suck.

I headed back to the market, which was a mistake! I went into a shop and was talked into wandering around the market with the owner. We visited the stalls of his friends and family and I picked out a few really nice pieces. I had originally intended them to be gifts, but after the price I paid for them, I think they're all going to be mine. Haha! I have a wee bit of buyer's remorse from the price, but I think in the end, they are worth the cost. Now the problem is, how do I get heavy chunks of ebony home??

After our business transaction, my new, much richer friend took me out to lunch. His name is Sigari and he can't be much older than I am. I asked him about the carving business, which his family has been involved in for generations. Each of the statues I bought took one to two weeks to carve. His family now owns two stalls in the market and rents another two. In typical African fashion, all of his friends and family in other countries are being used as business contacts. He says he is now starting to ship carvings to LA and Helsinki, of all places. He knows a guy in Boston, and is trying to set up a seller there.

After our lunch, I told him I still wanted to see the museum. It was now 3pm and the museum would be open until 6pm, so I had plenty of time. He flagged down a top-top for me. I've seen tons of these little vehicles driving around, but had never had the courage to ride in one. They are very cute: three wheels and open on the sides. Their tiny little engines make high-pitched whirring sounds as they weave through traffic at break-neck speeds. Also, they are much cheaper than taxis, owing to the gas conservation of their small engines. At one point, I thought we were going to tip over, but we made it to the museum without incident. It turns out I could have easily biked to the Village museum from my house. It's probably closer than the CARE offices. I don't understand how the guide book could have such blatantly wrong information...

The museum is really neat. It's filled with the traditional houses of about 30 of the tribes in Tanzania. This country has over 120 different tribes and the museum showcased the largest groups. The houses ranged from domed huts made entirely from grass, to complex, many roomed mud brick houses with intricately carved doors. Many of the houses had corrals inside, so the people had to sleep only a few feet from the cows and goats! It must make for quite a stink.

I paid the extra 2,000/= fee to see a performance of traditional dances. It turned out to be a performance just for me, since no one else was visiting the museum at the time. There were three percussionists and four dancers. The dancers also sang and one of them would occasionally blow on a whistle. If I was asked to interpret the dances, I would say they were about farming. The women spent most of the dances bent over and sweeping their arms back and forth. After the performance ended, one of the drummers called me over and handed me the sticks for the marimba. Haha. Little did they know, I have no sense of rhythm. I actually handled the first song alright, since it only had three notes. The second one was more complex and I was completely hopeless. After about 15 minutes, I gave up, thanked them and then wandered around the museum grounds some more.

Today, I'm supposed to head to Tanga for my second workshop. This time it's with the environmental sector and I'm just tagging along as the note taker. I'm a little hesitant about the trip, because I'm running out of time here. I think it will be an interesting learning experience, however. One of the sector's main issues is land and resource governance in communities with refugee populations. Anyway, they're paying for my housing and food, and this time the conference will be in English. Many of the program directors are ex-pats who do not speak Swahili fluently. I'm at the offices now, but I'll have to leave soon with a driver to pick up my luggage. The man I'm driving with, Balaram, is apparently prone to leaving when he is ready and not at a set time. This means we will be leaving at some unspecified time before 1pm. Haha. Not much time to get work done...