The Race at Sunrise...or not...

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Every morning in Africa,

a gazelle wakes up.

It knows that it must run

faster than the fastest lion.

Or it will be killed.

Every morning a lion wakes up.

It knows that it must out run the slowest gazelle.

Or it will starve to death.
It doesn't matter whether you are a lion

or a gazelle; when the sun comes up

You had better be running

That is an African Parable. 

According to the above, Dar es Salaam is very un-African, because around here, people are rarely in a hurry and even more rarely running...except for the Masai...but that is not the point as they don't operate the business centers.  The culture around here is very much of the procrastination kind - "hamna shida, kesho" (no worries, tomorrow)!

But I can't really blame them  - if I lived in a place where I didn't need shelter from the cold, I could do a little fishing everyday and when I walk home a paw-paw falls on my head (tada, salad!) - who would want to run anywhere?  Let's rather...DANCE!  Yeah!

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Andizi

"Street Level" Exhibition by Sarah Markes

Graphic designer and illustrator Sarah Markes is holding an exhibition of her beautiful graphic prints at the Alliance Francaise this month. Many of us are familiar with the vibrant street and people scenes, and we now have the opportunity to view and buy the original drawings and paintings (I've been saving!)

I have collected many of the authentically 'Dar' sketches that are now at home in South Africa waiting to be framed, while Andizi's colourful collection is displayed around her room. When my dearest Pop came to visit from SA a month ago I bought her a heap as a keepsakes for everything that she had seen and experienced in this city, as the prints make great gifts (especially for inspiring fellow designers)!

The full range of the prints are also available at the green room, Slipway.

See you all at the exhibition!

Frangipani

Barbeque/"Braaivleis" Dar es Salaam Style

Our favourite local restaurant for mishkaki - which is like a meat kebab

Watching the soccer - Obviously!  This was the game that sent England "Out of Africa"

Handogg washing his hands - this gets done before every meal as a knife and fork does not feature in this type of establishment.

Mmmmmmmm...nice pink tomato sauce!  But we go back for more every time!

Washing hands after the meal.

The uninvited guest that accompanies most meals in Dar es Salaam - this mozzie met a sudden end at the hands of Handogg - no pun intended!

It does not beat a good old "skaap tjoppie" (lamb tjop) and "braai broodjie" (toasted sandwich) on the South-African braai , but it sure is damn tasty!

Andizi

Mooshi Malva Pud

Ayoba to you all!  What has grabbed (and I use the word because I find it difficult to describe it any other way) all of us here in South Africa, from townships to tea parties, is nothing short of a very infectious fever.  The maddening sound of the vuvuzela that you loathe to hate because it's drenched in patriotism, along with everything else - it's a new experience for me, for South Africa, and Africa.  I like it.  I could go as far to say I love it.
Along these lines, I was thinking of a terribly patriotic dish.  The vuvuzela of the kitchen.  Desert rose has covered the bobotie - and a fine cover that was of finger licking deliciousness - so it left me with the thought of sugar.  Something sweet to follow the spiced mincy meal... why it has to be melva...!
If you havent made the bobotie yet - do it, and then make this to follow.

  The always present in SA recipes - apricot jam - (somebody bless the stuff) in the soft, spongey mixture, which is then drowned in butter, cream and sugar.  Happy everyone?

180g sugar
2 eggs
1 tbsp apricot jam
1 tsp bicarb
pinch of salt
15g butter
1 tsp vinegar
100ml milk

For the sauce:
250ml cream
100g butter
150g sugar
100ml water

1.  Beat the eggs and sugar well in a food processor until thick and creamy, add the jam.
2.  Sieve together the flour, bicarb and salt.  Melt the butter and add the vinegar,  Add this butter/vinegar mixture to the milk, and then fold into the egg mixture alternately with the flour.
3.  Pour into an oven proof dish, and cover tightly with foil.
4.  Bake in a hot oven (180C) for 40 minutes.
5.  Melt together ingredients for the sauce and pour over the pudding as it comes out of the oven.
6.  Serve - and yes I'm sorry but you have to - with generous splashes of cream.

~ hibiscus

vuvuzelas in dar!!

                                                                                 (www.rjrossphoto.com)

Wooohooo for Tanzania..... and vuvuzelas!!

What fun! Tanzania played Brazil last night and we decided it's time to dress the part, get the vuvuzelas and support our team!

We all piled into a local dala dala (specially arranged for us) and set off to the National Stadium in Dar es Salaam. We all had the trademark vuvuzelas that are available all over South Africa for the upcoming FIFA World Cup, with us and we took on the job of being proper football/soccer spectators!

Our fellow supporters were very impressed by the vuvuzelas and we had great fun entertaining them with the hooting and blowing throughout the game!
But I must say we did get sideward glances every now and again.......
it was like, come on guys, SHUT UP! You are making TTOOOOOOOO much NOISE!

We had a blast and even tried to see if a vuvuzela can do the job of being a beer glass.......

down down down down

Enjoy the World Cup everybody and support your teams!!

~ desert rose (with ringing eardrums!)~

Africa Time

(Image from: Abby Fitch)

I have been in South-Africa for nearly two months now. What should have been a simple four week exercise, has turned into an endless operation with an uncertain outcome. Or maybe I was being foolishly optimistic - we are after all dealing with Tanzanian immigration officers here!

Being in South-Africa now, one cannot help but get swept away in the FIFA World Cup mania! I had to smile when I read in the newspaper a government official urging fans to arrive at the world cup matches on time. I quote: "We are not going to be operating on Africa time". For all the differences between South-Africa and Tanzania, this one thing they DO have in common - Africa time! And as frustrating as it is at times - like right now - it is very much a part of life on this wild continent. You can either choose to life with it, or leave...and I am certainly not going anywhere! Sunshine, sea and space vs slow pace...I guess you just can't have it all!

Andizi

Hakuna Matata etc

Recently heard read…

“more than 300 million people in the world speak English and the rest, it sometimes seems, try to. It would be charitable to say that the results are sometimes mixed.

Consider this hearty announcement in a Yugoslavian hotel: ‘The flattening of underwear with pleasure is the job of the chambermaid. Turn to her straight away.’ Or this warning to motorists in Tokyo: ‘When a passenger of the foot heave in sight, tootle the horn. Trumpet at him melodiously at first, but if he still obstacles your passage, then tootle him with vigour.’ Or these instructions gracing a packet of fast food from Italy: ‘Besmear a backing pan, previously buttered with a good tomato sauce, and, after, dispose the cannelloni, lightly distanced between them in a only couch.’

Clearly the writer of that message was not about to let a little ignorance of English stand in the way of a good meal. In fact, it would appear that one of the beauties of the English language is that with even the most tenuous grasp you can speak volumes if you show enough enthusiasm – a willingness to tootle with vigour, as it were.

To be fair, English is full of booby traps for the unwary foreigner. Any language where the unassuming word fly signifies an annoying insect, a means of travel, and a critical part of a gentleman’s apparel is clearly asking to be mangled. “

(from Bill Bryson: Mother Tongue The English language)

Now lets take Swahili. Fusing Arabic with the African Bantu, the word Swahili is derived from Arabic Sawahili meaning ‘the language of the coast’. The correct word to describe the language is Kiswahili and the people who speak Kiswahili as their mother tongue, are Waswahilis.

A fine language, full of many onomatopoeic, monosyllabic words that appeal to anyone vaguely interested in picking them up. Take ‘lala salaama’ (sleep well) for example, or ‘sasa hivi’ (right now – why oh why does that one jump out at me…?!). These phrases are heavy with meaning– exactly what is intended. Although one must be honest – I definitely had more success from the first phrase regarding rest and relaxation, than the latter which seemed all too much in the slow pace of this marvelous land.

Again from Bill Bryson: “Usually in English we strive to preserve the old spelling at almost any cost to logicality”. In Swahili – not so – its all as it sounds. Not that one ever has to go as far as spell, lets be honest. But it is within realms of possibilities...

There are many great websites to help and perfect our day to day Swahili:

http://wikitravel.org/en/Swahili_phrasebook

http://www.jambokenya.com/jambo/swahili/swahil03.htm

http://www.word2word.com/course.html

Post Script Note:

One sentence rather notable on the wiki page:

Stop! Thief!

(saying this in Swahili could likely result in violent death for the thief at the hands of self appointed vigilantes. your item may or may not be recovered.) Simama, mwizi

Rather practice your Swahili in the privacy of your own home, then?!

~ hibiscus

Mitumba Shopping

Literally translation:  2^nd hand clothing/shoes/lingerie/anything you can think of hanging in a tree

I remember when we came to Tanzania we only had a backpack on our backs and that was it. Needless to say  - there weren’t many clothing items in it as we would’ve liked, space was limited and we had to ensure we had everything to   survive in deep, dark Africa….. 

Our parents made us pack several packs of batteries for our torches, army issue dry packs, (terrible food that you rehydrate to make it more terrible),toilet paper, a tin cup, the extra tin of bully beef and the likes off.

After my first 3 months when it seemed that I might actually stay in this gorgeous place, I realized I had a problem. My clothes were now in tatters and I desperately needed something to wear to my first “dinner party” in Dar.

After consulting the 3 clothing shops that existed during those days, I humbly went for my first Mtumba shopping spree.

It was the best shopping ever – we got 4 beautiful “garments” (for lack of better word) for under Tsh 3500 each(about R20). Bargain at twice the price if you ask me!

I then never went into any clothing shops (not that there really were any as I said before) but continued to buy all my clothes from the Tree Shops next to the road.

We were such frequent buyers (ha ha) that the one gentleman proceeded to give us a few “garments” on “apro” and we could take it home, try it on and see if it fits and return it the next day if we didn’t like it.  We got enormous bargains and even got a few compliments on how nicely we were dressed.

You can even find the odd GAP dress, an ARMANI skirt, a CHANEL shirt...... What more do you need!

I still to this day enjoy going Mitumba Shopping!

desert rose

 

A malawian's take on the traditional fruitsalad

Nothing makes my day like coming home and finding these ingredients for my weekly fruitsalad bought by Houseboy;

1 Papaya

1 Pineapple

2 Mangos

2 Avos

1 Cucumber

The only explanation I have for this is that fruit are in season again, thus cheaper and now he has more cash to spend...hence the interesting choice in fruit salad ingredients! Made amazing guacamole with the avos though!

~maisha

Red Light with Green Arrow

Photo: www.xafricachallenge.com

Aaahhhh, do you drive, do you stop, the dala dala is coming at  you with  the speed of white light….. aaaahh, but the light is red, what do you do!!!???

Covered in kebab sauce from a catering event which I had to wake up for at 3 am this morning to make sure everything is in order,  I find myself sitting half asleep at the intersection close to Dar’s Game Department. There are currently 4 lanes of cars (in real life only just 2). I look in my rear view mirror at this special shocking pink and mint green dala dala racing down with two wheels on the pavement and two wheels off the pavement,  wondering to myself, this guy is SERIOUSLY not going to drive this dangerously to gain a whole of 3 cars to get to the front…..….. inevitably, he comes screaming past and turns the corner…. We had 5 lines for a moment there!

Every Dar es Salamite (if there is such a word) will know that you secretly cringe when your beloved family or your dear friends from somewhere in the world, state with a hop, skip and a jump in their voice, that they’ll be arriving in Dar at 14:00 on a Monday for a two week visit……. Don’t get me wrong – you don’t cringe because they are coming, your heart miss a beat, because you’ll have to drive to the airport to go and fetch them. Upanga Road – probably my least favourite road in this colourful city.

You have to bob and weave through the lanes (2, 3 or 4 , depending on the dala dala situation) and make sure you don’t find yourself in the lane where there’s a feed off to the right or left, because then your in for a long wait! I created my own lane today, a dala dala was dropping people off at a road side station and there was a car coming from behind, luckily it was a Maruti Suzuki – known in my family as a loaf of bread – and I could ssqqquuueeeezzze past.

Driving in Dar is special as is. One of my first lessons by Impi, was to drive LIKE THEY DO, otherwise you are going to have many many accidents. So I proceeded to drive LIKE THEY DO for the last 6 years. And I must admit, touch wood, I haven’t had an accident!

General rule of thumb, if the light is red and there a green arrow to the left and your on the straight lane – DRIVE. If the light is orange, DRIVE. If it’s late at night and the light is red – DRIVE!

…….. but in saying this, my dear friends, please please be very careful.

 ~desert rose~

Queen for a Day

The whining, high pitched nag of a kid... "Moooooooom, pleeeeeeease its not a really tattoo it fades"  goes hand in hand with the smell of sunblock and the sounds of crashing waves on any busy Natal beach in December. I mean who haven't walked past two long haired  hippies smoking something (?) under a tattered gazebo advertising "Have your name on a grain of rice" or "Henna tattoos, any design". The answer to my nagging was usually..."Your body is a temple, I will not allow you to desecrate it!".

So I would spend the rest of the vacation enviously glaring at girls (with COOL parents) who had tattoos on their backs and arms. THEY could go back to school in January with something cooler to show their friends than a bikini tan. But as I grew older the tattoos on the beach started to loose their appeal, but I still got my name engraved on a grain of rice (who didnt?).

A weekend on Zanzibar brought back all these memories when a friend from South Africa insisted on having some Henna(the tattoo) done. We found a tiny swahili lady wrapped in colourful khangas in a duka(small shop) on the beach. After enquiring if she does henna she produced three different albums filled with designs, and not your usually chinese writing or dolphin jumping through a heart. Beautifully crafted patterns to be applied to hands and feet. I immediately fell in love with a particular hand design and just had to have it. With the back of a matchstick she carefully drew out the design, using the thickness of the henna to aid the design. Her hand was so steady as the henna stains wherever it touches. It takes about 20minutes to dry and then the henna starts to flake off, beneath it the skin is stained and stays that way for about 2weeks.

After this experience, which was so glaringly different from the Natal beach version I was interested in the history and tradition surrounding Henna Body painting. According to Wikipedia Henna has been used to adorn young women's bodies as part of social and holiday celebrations since the late Bronze Age in the eastern Mediterranean. In Tanzania Henna is used to adorn the Bride's hand and feet to make her more attractive for her husband. The bride is more elaborately bedecked, more deliberately attractive than the groom, and stands out above even the bridesmaids and female relatives; in essence, she is queen for the day. This tradition is taken very seriously and my henna painted hand suddenly took on great significance.

{Images from Rahim Yar Khan Online}

So, after years of whining I eventually got my tattoo, although I would rather call it a henna adornment and so experienced a tradition that is older than time.

~maisha

Swahili Time vs Mzungu Time

Photo Source: Google

Monday wasn’t a good Tanzania day for me. It took me 7 hours to buy two Zanzibar beds and makuti (braided palm leaves) for my gate. ….. Really not difficult items as far as I’m concerned. Both items are available to buy next to the road. All you have to do is pull your 4x4 up onto the side of the road, haggle a bit over the price, load it up, and off you go….

Look, I speak the language fairly well, after all, I’ve been here for 5+ years, AND one of the 1^st things that I learnt was to keep time – the SWAHILI way!!

It works like this: as we are almost on the equator, you tend to have perfect 12 hour cycles, no matter what the season. The first hour after sunrise is 1 o’clock (what we know as 7 o’clock in the morning), hour number 2 after sunrise is 2 o’clock, therefore – in SWAHILI TIME – midday (12 o’clock for us) is 6 o’clock.  The same for night time “usiku”, not too difficult – even logical if you think about it, but you need to make sure you have your wits together when discussing time with our local friends. 

Coming back to the story…. Time was of essence on Monday, my mom was visiting and I was really anxious to have a decent bed in the house for her. After repeating VARIOUS times what time I’ll collect my precious new beds and makuti – IN SWAHILI TIME , I paid my 50% deposit to dismantle everything and went away in a flurry of hand shaking and huge smiles.  The agreed return time was in 2 hours so I gave them half and hour extra as I did not want to be upset, the required job should take a whole 15 min.  Returning later as discussed to find that neither items were anywhere near ready, everyone was sitting exactly where I left them. No one would look me in the eye and explanations were all over the place with some dust kicking and shrugging of shoulders…. “samahani mama…” (sorry mama) Eish.  

My frustration was mounting, my mom arrived in a few hours time and I had no bed in her room. Biting my tongue, we agreed on a second time – in SWAHILI. It was one of those really hot days where the humidity surrounds you like a cloud, hampering your breathing and clinging to every inch of your body.

I returned the second time to find the situation wasn’t any better, the day just ended up in pure frustration (and tears….) and my duka (shop) friends couldn’t understand why this mzungu dada (white sister) promptly voiced her disapproval at the utter lack of co-operation after literally paying for everything upfront, she promised that she’ll never come back EVER to buy anything from them. I mean how difficult is it to unscrew a few bolts and tie a couple of makuti leaves together…….

Alas, my mom arrived to a bedroom without a bed. Finally at the dusty end of the day, hot, humid and without power, I heard this chink chink on our gate and here stood these wonderful people of Africa with what I’ve been fighting for all day….

Question remains: Who’s time is the right time? We got our bed and makuti, no one slept on the floor, so why was I so impatient?

 

…..

 

I went back two days later to buy another bed.

Desert Rose