Sunday, September 30, 2012

Coconunt Crab

Please meet my friend the coconut crab. Locals tell me that his kind are the largest crabs in the entire world.  The name is appropriate because this guy loves climbing palm trees to feast on coconuts, which he can open with his bare claws.  Being a hermit crab, he probably used a coconut for his protective shell when he was younger… and he will sometimes even mimic being a coconut.  If he tries to take my finger, or grabs a hold of anything else he shouldn't, the locals have a secret way of rubbing his tummy to loosen his grip.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Intersections

Dar es Salaam can be translated from Arabic as “haven of peace”, although when you travel through its streets you might find the name slightly misleading.  The trick to being a good driver here is to have the bigger vehicle - it’s a constant game of chicken.  There are no speed limits and no traffic enforcement…in fact, I have not yet been able to deduce any rules beyond the suggestion that you should try to drive on the right (as in “not left”) side of the road.  And although Dar is Tanzania’s largest city, there are only a couple traffic lights.  And so, it is standard procedure when approaching an intersection to just inch into the cross traffic, get the timing, and then make a move to squeeze through – it’s like playing a high stakes version of skip rope. 

Sunday, September 23, 2012

First week impressions


Dar es Salaam, like any city, is a maze of streets packed with buildings and people.  It’s just that the packing is a little tighter than Canadian cities and there aren’t any parks to escape to. None of the roads have signs, and only the main roads have referable names.  Also, it’s only the major roads which are paved.  The rest of the dirt roads constantly kick dust up into the air making things…well…dusty.  Poorer quality side roads frequently instigate meetings between you and your vehicle’s ceiling. While particularly deep holes in the road are usually repaired with a couple bricks and some dirt, in desperate situations they are just filled with garbage...and sometimes a metal pipe is implanted across the chasm for support. Some side streets are peppered with chickens, others with cats and dogs, and still others with goats.  But every street, no matter how remote or at what time of day, will have people on it.  People walking to work or school, people carrying outrageously large amounts of materials on their head, people yelling about the football match, people playing checkers, people sweeping the front of their shop, people buying food, people selling food.  If you are stopped on Bogamoyo road, people will run up to your car and try to sell you a coat rack. Yes, an entire coat rack.  Or a skipping rope, or hangers, or sunglasses, or any one of a hundred other trinkets.  And if you are one of these pedestrians on the Dar streets, you better watch out - motors always, always have the right of way!  I’m not sure if all these people filling the streets have a permanent residence.  It doesn’t always seem that there are enough houses to fit everybody.  And yet, people are constantly stepping in and out of the small huts and shops.  These buildings are moderate and simple…built from cement…or sometimes from sticks, mud, and bricks…and topped off with a roof of sheet metal or clay tile, but I’ve also seen roofs made from palm branches.  I’m eager to explore some places further outside the city...and maybe spend some time on the coast.  I wonder what the islands are like! And where do I find some mountains?!

Friday, September 21, 2012

Master Facility List

The end of my first week at work has been extremely exciting.  After a tour of the office on Monday morning (followed by some jet lag naps at my desk), MEDA asked me to attend a 3 day conference put on by the Tanzania Ministry of Health and Social Welfare.  The goal of the conference was to outline the technical requirements in developing an online registry of all the health facilities in the country.  A number of stakeholders were contacted and about 25 people attended to give their input on what was required from the "Master Facility List".  I felt very privileged having a front row seat to watch the beginning stages of what I feel is a very significant project.  It would be so useful for Tanzania to have a centralized and reliable list of hospitals with their provided services. And to make the information available to other health projects and to the general public, well that would just be a great thing.  Mostly I sat back and enjoyed the experience, letting the more experienced members discuss what shape the project should take.  However I did get a chance to chip in when I noticed some flaws in the chosen database constraints.  And boy was my heart pounding when I said my piece.  After being understood, I promptly sat down and returned to my more comfortable role of observing.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

The Bajaji

I can’t think of a better way to be introduced to Dar than by Bajaji.  Soon after my arrival in the city, I had the pleasure of riding in one of these three-wheeled vehicles and quickly realized that this would be my main mode of transport.   There is a single seat in the front for the driver and a seat in the back which can fit 2 people comfortably.  But the driver will often have a friend or two along, and we will often try to pile 3 or 4 in the back to make the whole thing a wonderful entanglement of limbs.  Smaller than cars and trucks, the Bajaji is free to weave in and out of traffic and often bypasses traffic by making its own path in between oncoming traffic and the proper lane…or by simply driving half on the road and half on the pedestrian walkways.  Due to the absence of doors, it is not out of the ordinary to white knuckle the seats in order to prevent ejection from the vehicle.  It’s also prudent to keep appendages inside the vehicle during the numerous close encounters you are bound to have with other vehicles.  Bajajis are a cheaper alternative to taxis, but it is important that the Bajaji customer be a quick judge of character – to be able to look a driver in the eye and predict exactly what level of rationality he is willing to show on the road.  I have been using the same driver every day to get to and from work.  I feel Siprian has found a good balance between making the trip exciting and taking relatively few gambles with my life.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Packing

It's a difficult thing to do – leaving everything you love.  I love home.  I love my grandparents, my parents and siblings and extended family.  I love my friends. I love my bedroom and my pet dog.  I love road trips and weekend adventures.  But it’s probably that appetite for adventure which allowed the whispers of flight to materialize into action.  So where did the whispers come from? By nature I’m an incredibly curious person.  I often find myself wondering how things work.  I find delight in exploring and discovering.  Naturally this leads me to sometimes wonder what the lives of other people around the world might be like.  What’s happening in the developing world?  What is their culture like? What are the people like? Why don’t they have what I have?  Do they even need or want what I have in Canada? Why are things unbalanced?  And why is humanity so broken anyway?  I’m not naive enough to think I will find answers to all these questions.  Nonetheless, it was time for me to find a way into the developing world and scratch the surface.  So now I’m on my way to work with Mennonite Economic Development Associates doing an IT internship in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.  The project I will be involved in is the Tanzania National Voucher Scheme, but I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunity to discuss the details of my job position in future entries.  Today I’m focusing on what it’s like to leave.  And of course the emotions are intermingled…yet I find that when I suppress my apprehension, I’m excited to live in a new culture. When I suppress the sadness of leaving family, I find I hope to make new friendships.  I hope to find creative and practical ways to serve the local community.  I hope that I will find my work meaningful.  I hope that the sacrifice will be worth it.