Notes from a visit to Dar es Salaam

9/15/07
Today I made a friend. She came up to me at the orphanage while we were doing some permaculture on the grounds. She held my hand, and swung from my arm, and rode around on my hip. I figured the tiny little girl was about 4, but she would suddenly burst out with incredibly confident instructions for her friends: "get that water" or "let me see what you're holding." She said she was 7, but it's hard to tell when nobody celebrates birthdays, and many don't know when their birthdays are. We spent the day at the orphanage here in Dar and were part of an ongoing project to turn the grounds into a thriving, food-dense farm and gardens.


9/14/07
I'm in the land of giants. Living in a village where I can see the tops of almost everyone's heads, it's striking to come to Tanzania's biggest city where I'm not towering over the majority like an awkward snowman. And there are so many melanin-lacking individuals who I have never met. People like Dar because you can get anything you could ever imagine here, but you can also get anything you could ever imagine stolen here. My friend just bought a cell phone for a villager, and had it for 5 minutes before he was ever-so-gracefully relieved of it while using public transportation. I like to stick to splurging on food (from ice cream to elegant Ethiopian food), as it's safe once you get it in your mouth.

One thing I like though is the feeling of meeting a Hehe person here in the melting pot, and the feeling of solidarity that grows between us when they realize that I live with other Hehes. Strangely enough it's a stronger feeling than when I meet another American.


9/11/07
It's time for another quiz:
What is the most culturally inappropriate thing you could do in my village?

a. Pick your nose while giving a speech

b. Ask someone his religion when you've only just met him

c. Ask a pregnant woman when her baby is due

d. Tell your friend she is fatter than a barrel, an elephant, a blimp, etc.

To be honest, I have been involved in all of these situations. I have not, personally, picked my nose during a speech, but it will surely be some sort of rite of passage. I am constantly having to fend off offers to be baptized at the Roman Catholic Church or be saved at the Pentecostal one; usually by people I've just met. And I have, of course, been compared to all-things-fat in this world. I'm told I must stay in Tanzania, because the weather here likes me, which is why I am so healthy and plump. But I have avoided the embarrassing subject of pregnancy, which is referred to as an illness. The correct answer is therefore d. A pregnant woman hides her belly as best she can, coming down the path suddenly with a newborn, causing me to suspect delivery-by-stork or baby-stealing. It is best to also avoid asking people directly about their husbands, instead referring to them as the father of their mutual child, as in "Baba Gail". That would be my father. Many of the very traditional women are more likely to utter the word "my fungal infection" than the words "my husband."