Moshi Market

Moshi is the nearest town to where I live and its where I shop for major European type food like Orange Juice and New Zealand cheese and proper bread and yogurt - those little luxuries that I haven't yet left behind.  Normally I travel there by the Dala Dala but of late I have had the opportunity to travel there using the  Project car.  A lovely white Suzuki.  It is always an interesting journey because there is much to see as you drive through different small villages on the main route and hardly any other transport other than occasional heavy lorries or large buses from Dar es Salaam or of course the Dala Dala.  But you have to keep your level of concentration high as there are big bumps/ sleeping policemen to negotiate and they often come at the most unexpected time.  When I came out here last February I travelled to Kilimanjaro airport in the evening and followed a tipper lorry who obviously missed a bump and hit it too fast and his tailgate flew open and dumped 3 ton of sand and gravel onto the road which we narrowly missed and did it again at the next bump before we flagged him down.  So even in the daylight you have to give full attention.  But the purpose of this posting on the blog is to show the pictures of the market in Moshi and I have been distracted!! My age I think!!??  In Moshi  this is a covered market and you can buy anything there.  I go just for the food and particularly the vegetables and there is always hard negotiation.  I bought  a cabbage last week that started at 1000/- but actually finally bort for 500/-. It helps of course if you have fluent swahili!!  But it is very interesting and I love to visit. Enjoy the pictures.

The significant pictures?

I am learning more and more about the way of life her in Tanzania and in particular in Mshiri Village where I live.  I am following a teach yourself Swahili course and there are real protocols in addressing people.  Who speaks first and the response you should give to the greeting.  The unfortunate thing for me is by the time I've spoken what I want to say they have gone passed and even if I rehearse what I'm going to say as they approach their response is different. It is all related to age, the time of day, whether your walking uphill or down hill. I've come to the conclusion if I mumble everything I know as they pass it seems to work. They keep you guessing  So I attach two pictures with this blog and provide a puzzle.   I would like you to identify the link between the two pictures and their significance.   You can comment on the blog.  I'm got to find some way of seeing if people are reading the blog. Very valuable prizes for the right response!!

Left holding the baby

You never know when skills you learned years ago will be needed.  At a recent leaving gathering for an employee of the Project there was a need for me to leap into the breach.  Gladness's baby, Elizabeth, required holding while mother was eating.  She is a beautiful baby, even when awake, and the gentleness of  my holding thankfully kept her asleep. But you never loose the old skills

Childrens' lot seems a happy one

Life out here for children can be a very busy one.  Once school is over and at weekends and even each morning you will see them busy doing a whole lot of chores.  For some it is the daily carrying of water from the stream source to their home.  For others it can be the washing of their cloths in the local stream or sweeping paths and often working in the garden watering the plants or cutting grass for their cattle. They certainly earn their keep Despite all they have to do they always pleased to see you and the greeting is always the same Good morning sir! How are you!  You always go through the ritual of giving them the opportunity to see the few words that they have learned at school.  You always ask them their name.  And course there is lots of play - very primitive play. The sort that the more mature of us engaged in when we were children. No fancy equpment or computer games.  I've seen the equivalent of hop scotch.  Their balls are made out of paper tightly wrapped in string and they play football continually and what skill. The best views of them are on Sunday when they trip passed my house in their Sunday best.  You wouldn't recognise them.

Visit to Dar es Salaam

Two weeks ago I travelled to Dar es Salaam, the capital of Tanzania to  obtain a certificate of  exemption which would allow me to work in Tanzania for the coming year.  I flew to Dar' on the way out and travelled back by coach to enable me to see a little more of the countryside. The flight out was spectacular because I managed to take a photograph of Kilimanjaro majestically rising above the clouds and the cloud formations were also special. 

I had to pick up my permit from the Ministry of Immigration but involved journeys to Ministry of Education and Internal affairs before I finally received the permit.  It was touch and go if we would receive it before out departure.  But the Immigration official took pity on us when we said we were traveling back to Maragangu Mtoni the next day and we got it at the end of the day.

I didn't see much of Dar' it was a typical large city and the major port for imports into Africa.  But visited some nice restaurants and had cocktails at the KIlimanjaro hotel overlooking the harbour.  But my interesting two days were not over!!  The bus ride back to Marangu Toni should have taken 8 hours but it took twelve hours because there was a crash on a one way bridge and we were held up in a  2 hour stand off with no traffic moving and nobody willing to give way.  There was a police station on the bridge but they stayed inside until it was sorted by a member of the public.  The bus driver then drove continually for 6 hours trying to make up time with only a 20 minute stop.  I was on the front seat and had my eyes glued to him looking for any signs of tiredness.  I noted that he drank a can of Red Bull.  I was delighted to get off the bus and return to the slowly slowly of my village.  A trip to remember

The Dala Dala

To visit the nearest town Moshi which is 40 miles away.    You first have to walk down to the Marangu Mtoni village about 40 minutes walk and there you pick up the local bus service.  When I say local bus service it doesn't run to a timetable that has any sense or meaning. There are either 5 there or none.  Mind you those of us who now have a bus pass would say ever the same!  The service is run my individuals who own a mini bus.  They are usually beat up old vehicles that have been modified to increase the number of passengers from 13 to 20.  Two Saturday's ago I travelled to Moshi for shopping.  I was fortunate to be one of the first person on the bus as so I had a pick of seats I opted for one half way down the bus.  By the time the bus left it had 18 people on board.  The bus can be flagged down at any point on the journey.  Before we had travelled 5 miles there was 23 on the bus with 5 people standing including the conductor who seemed to get much pleasure from hanging out of the bus the whole journey.  It is certainly a way to get to know the local people.  They only drive at two speeds either flat out or stop.  On my return journey I was not so fortunate as there was limited choice of seats.  I ended up on the back seat which should have seated 4 people but which had 8 and a baby.  The baby for some reason cried every time I looked at her?!  I did consider asking to see the drivers MOT and insurance certificate before I got on but thought better of it.  They are certainly dangerous and surprise surprise we passed one in a ditch on the way home.  Happy days 

A woman's work is never done

On all my walks in the surrounding woods and forest and on the parthways down to Marangu Village I have never seen a man carrying anything.  It is the women who seem to do the fetching and carrying.  So walking up from the village after market day it is the women you see carrying the shopping. It might be sacks of grain or heavy water containers and the other day I met one carrying a grate of Kilimanjaro beers.   Their work outside shopping is also very demanding as you often see them cutting grass for their cattle but also collecting firewood to enable them to do their cooking.  These pictures where taken when I walked up into the forest above where I live.  Gathering firewood is illegal from the forest but there were many mums and daughters carrying these heavy loads on their heads.  It really is a man's world here