Jambo Tanzania! - Part One

“Where is your yellow fever vaccination card?”

After a 28-hour journey in planes, trains, and automobiles, mixed in with a few hours of waiting in lines and lazing around at airports, I was physically and mentally drained. Mix that in with not being able to sleep in the nearly upright economy class seats and you get a cranky person.

“You need a vaccination card to enter Tanzania,” the immigration officer at Dar-es-Salaam International Airport emphasized to my brother and me. After being advised by my family and the Tanzanian consulate in New York that I needed no such thing, I had had just about enough.

“I already have an approved visa from the consulate in the United States and they already cleared me (for yellow fever),” I replied through gritted teeth.

The officer arched his eyebrows and waved us to the immigration line. One hurdle down, two to go. Of course, this next step wasn’t smooth either. Just as we got to the front of the line, we were told that the computer wasn’t working, and so we had to merge with the adjacent line. I glared at the kid inching towards the counter, and he backed off just a bit to let my brother and me through. A couple of stamps and a “Karibu” (“Welcome”), we rushed to the baggage carousel. Half an hour later, after some pushing and shoving through the burgeoning crowds, we proceeded to the customs counter, where the officers there sized us up and asked us to open our suitcases. Pointing to some feminine toiletry items in our largest suitcase, the officer asked us how much they were. I made up a number, since I hadn’t bought them. He asked for a receipt, and I replied it was back in the United States. Last hurdle down, and we were through.

After a brief search, we found our cousin Ammar and Uncle Baker’s driver Suleimani in the crowd. As we climbed into the car and exited the airport, I noticed the heat and humidity. Here we were, half a world away, and had transitioned from a temperature of 25°F (-4°C) the morning of our departure to 90°F (32°C) two days later. The next thing I noticed was the names on the public minibuses, the dala dalas, such as “Inshallah” (“God willing”), “Alhamdullilah (“Thanks to God”), and the ubiquitous “In God We Trust”. Quite apt for the driving styles we observed along the road.

There were two things that were the most striking to me. The first I had grown up observing and was still there every time I visited: beggars. I would be lying if I said that didn’t bother me. My heart broke every time I saw one, especially the blind, the young, and the disabled. I think Suleimani’s example was best. At a couple stops, he rolled down his window, gave a few coins indiscriminately, and drove on. The second thing I noticed was the changing face of the city. There were skyscrapers everywhere. When I grew up in Dar-es-Salaam, there were maybe 2 or three buildings above 6 stories. Now, there were probably a couple dozen, and many more were under construction. Dar-es-Salaam was quickly becoming more cosmopolitan and even more congested.

Even Alykhan Road, off which my family used to live and my relatives still live, was fully paved. No more “craters” and “swimming pools” which we had to artfully navigate around.

The first thing we did after we freshened up was to visit our beloved Nana, whom we had not seen in almost 5 years. She was on bed rest, but was delighted to see us. Oh, you should have seen the twinkle in her eyes! We spent maybe 15 minutes talking to her, but a lot was communicated through unspoken means. The wrinkles uncreasing on her dear face showed a burst of rejuvenation. When it was time to go, I felt sad but knew that to truly savor every moment with Nana, it was better to enjoy a trickle of quality time rather than overwhelm her with a flood of experiences.

The next day and a half was a blur. Barbecued chicken and chips with my uncles and cousins. Paying my respects to my grandparents and aunt at the cemetery. Enjoying some mix (potatoes, fritters, beans and chutney in a thick soup) at Al Qaim. Prayers at the mosque. Coconut juice from a street vendor.

Late the second night, we went to observe a lunar eclipse from the rooftop terrace of Zahraa Towers in the city center. Following a brief presentation by the Astronomy Club, we took our positions on the terrace, taking out our binoculars, cameras, camcorders, and iPhones. While I didn’t get to try out the fancy telescopes, I quite enjoyed the spectacle, and more so, the view of the changing nighttime skyline of Dar-es-Salaam, a scene that I had never observed from high up in my eight years of residence there. Following the eclipse, we had a small literary discussion over hot chai (tea) and marble cake. We then bid adieu and went home.

The next morning, we woke up at 5 a.m. and headed to town for a 6 a.m. departure to Arusha.

Up Next: Part Two – Arusha

Click here for pictures from my trip: http://travel.webshots.com/album/576647760xxpRyj

An Apres Ski Adventure

I know it has seemed lackadaisical of me with regard to updating my blog over the last few months. I intend to rectify that with a smattering of my adventures more often. I'll start with an incident a couple of weekends ago that led to quite an adventure. I have given my friends some anonymity to save them some embarrassment...

The day before Valentine's Day, 2010, a couple of friends and I headed to Alpine Mountain in the Poconos, Pennsylvania for a ski lesson, followed by endless runs down the slope until we were "too sore to move," as stated by "Hamster". All began well. After an early start (6 a.m.), fueled by Dunkin' Donuts, the drive through New Jersey to the Pennsylvania border was a breeze. We arrived at 9 a.m. and spent the next hour getting into our "ski gear"- big puffy jackets, athletic pants, tuques, and bulky gloves complemented by rented boots and skis. Hamster, Mongoose, and I lined up with Caroline and Mark, a couple from near Philly, near the base of one of the runs for a 90-minute lesson from Glenn. The lesson was uneventful for the most part. We went in circles with one ski at a time, learned how to make wedges ("like a pizza"), bended our knees in ways we didn't know how, took quite a few spills, and most importantly I think, learned how to put on and take off our skis. The lesson culminated in my only fall of the day, when Caroline, unable to stop, ran into me from behind and our skis got tangled up. I turned to Mark, the only one in our group with prior and recent skiing experience and said, "Please take a fall for our sake!" He responded, "I have fallen enough in the past. No more!"

We were then turned loose by Glenn and practiced several times on the bunny hill, our runs punctuated by a couple of breaks to catch our collective breath. My best memories of the bunny hills were the times when little tots formed V's with their skis and called out to their parents, "Look! I made a pizza!" After the final break, Hamster, Mongoose, and I decided we would attempt the easiest of the long downhill trails, Alpine Way. As we climbed over the treetops on the lift, the tension built up and we noticed that we were at triple the height of the bunny hill. The arrival at the top was anticlimactic, as both Hamster and Mongoose took a tumble coming off the lift. I doubled over in laughter and couldn't stop until my tummy hurt. Hamster and Mongoose, after much difficulty in getting a picture at the top- due to Mongoose losing one of his skis and Hamster sliding backwards towards the initial drop, took the plunge down the slope. I passed both as they were picking themselves off the snow just a third of the way down. To be honest, my first run on this slope was scary, as I lost my balance after the second bump in the slope so that my butt was scraping along the snow, but both legs were upright, and I didn't fall. Thankfully, I recovered in time to make a wedge and come to a complete stop at the bottom. Our subsequent runs were better, but H & M just couldn't perfect their lift exit strategy and continued their tumbles. Hamster was a beast in our final descent, just taking off straight past me and gathering speed as I was making wide S-turns on the slope. He didn't fall until the end, when he couldn't stop and had to turn sharply to avoid hitting other skiers at the bottom of the slope. As we regrouped at the lodge and returned our rented equipment, the real fun began.

Hamster had gone during the last break to Mongoose's car to drop off a few things and held onto the keys. Unfortunately, during one of his countless falls, he seemed to have lost it. We made numerous forays up and down the slopes to look for the keys (in our boots, not skis, thankfully), all to no avail. In the meantime, we communicated with Mrs. Mongoose via phone to get a AAA-covered tow truck to the lodge. The tow truck arrived around closing time (9 p.m.), and after a struggle, the driver managed to get the car onto the bed. The only problem was that he could only take one person with him, so he took Mongoose to his mother-in-law's place 109 miles way in Central New Jersey. Just a few minutes earlier, his mother-in-law and brother-in-law left from their house to pick up Hamster and me. During the two-hour wait in 28 degree weather, Hamster and I strolled around the now-closed lodge looking for a cozy corner, keeping ourselves warm. I got to try out my balaclava and finished my pack of gum. Time flew by relatively fast and before we knew it, Mongoose's mother-in-law had arrived. She took us to the nearest Wendy's for a nice hot meal, and then we were off to Jersey. Within 30 minutes of arrival, all three of us were asleep on sleeping bags in the living room of Mother-in-Law's brother's house.

Sunday dawned with snoring coming from Mongoose, and with those earthly sounds, I came to the realization that I was in someone else's house a 100 miles away from home with two friends in a deep slumber, with a car outside that was useless since all the dealers were closed on Sunday. I momentarily panicked. However, the day turned out better than expected. After a wonderful breakfast (I hadn't eaten omelettes in ages), we were treated to sumptuous biryani and tiramisu in Mongoose's mother-in-law's house, at 11:30 a.m. nevertheless. Hamster and I caught a bus to the Port Authority in Manhattan, then a train to Ronkonkoma, and my brother gave us a ride back home to Centereach. Estimated time of arrival: Saturday, 10 p.m. Actual time of arrival: Sunday, 5 p.m.

Yes, the loss of the key was frustrating. But that was the only negative in a sea of positives. I had a great time with two friends. I practiced my survival skills and avoided getting frostbite and hypothermia. I experienced the kindness of strangers everywhere- at the ski lodge, on the road back to Jersey, and in Jersey itself. I enjoyed good food (biryani) that I had been dying to have for ages. And I got a story to tell.