Way out West, where the roads don't run

  Rususu, Tanzania
Friday, May 15, 2009

way ot west

We left Claudio in the safe hands of Swiss diplomacy and we set off for a peak at Africa's highest mountain. Kilimanjaro rises out of the flat expanses of northern Tanzania, many people actually believe it to be more impressive than Everest. The consensus being that Everest is a bit of a cheat. Already loitering around with a high brow crowd and hasn't really had to work that hard for its lofty perch. Meanwhile Kili has to assert all 6000m of itself from a lowly and grounded position in life...much harder work. However before we could stand beneath the African giant, we had to negotiate 17 more police officers dedicated to ensuring our safety...although they were willing to let us live on the edge without a fire extinguisher for a mere $20. To avoid parting with much needed funds, we had to improvise ways to negotiate our way out of the clutches of the Tanzanian Traffic Police. Here are just a few methods we employed:

Method A (The God Card)

Many African people are particularly religious. So when an officer pulled us over and proceeded to run through the familiar list of travel requirements until he reached article 37...the fire extinguisher... ( The looks of disappointment are quite palpable as we meet each demand and the size of the 'fine'exponentially decreases. But then a flicker, the spark of potential civic duty i'd like to think of it as, lights up the eyes of the law at "do you have a fire extinguisher?")... I explained to him that I knew fire extinguishers were only legally required for commercial passenger vehicles and we unfortunatley did not fit into that category. Seemed reason and legitimacy did not always do the trick, it greatly reduced the 'fine' so it was 'Jesus Time'. I put forward the theory that God was watching our discussion and if Mr Policeman felt good about his actions then I would hand over my money. He looked slightly perplexed and further reduced the 'fine'. Maybe a low 'fine'would not count as sin. I further explained that because of his actions I would not be able to suppport African people even worse off than him. And again casually mentioned I would hand over money if he could live with himself knowing the Lord was eavesdropping. I promptly had my licence thrust back into my hands and was told I could go. I didn't need a sign from above to jump back into RUFUS and go go.     

Method B (The Diplomat Connection Card)

Our car been parked in the yard of a friend of a friend who worked for the Swiss Embassy so we decided to drop the words "Embassador", "Embassy", "Consulate" and even "Minister of Police" into our conversations about fire extinguishers with some of the police. Again the 'fines'seemed to dramatically reduce and in most cases disappeared completely after asking for a name and informing the uniformed officer about a conversation we'd had with high ranking justice types at a Suaree at the "Embassy" about reporting any suspicious 'finage'....and fire extinguishers had definitely been on the suspicious list we had been privvy to.

Method C (The Pretend to not See & Run)

In most cases, the police of Tanzania set up their check points on a bend, under a tree or next to a large pile of bananas. In these instances we felt we had a  legitimate reason to keep going past, with a "shit, didn't see you there" expression. Sometimes we would smile and wave back like idiots, pretending to have mistaken an authoritative gloved hand waving us down as merely a friendly wave wishing us a pleasant and corruption free stay in their country. Of course Method 3 often only presented itself as a truly (safe) and viable option when we could clearly see that the officers of the law did not have a pursuit vehicle at their didposal...in Africa this is 87% of the time.   

We rode into Moshi, our heads and necks craning about trying to catch a glimpse of Kili. Something rising 6000m directly from sea level shouldn't be hard to spot. Unfortunately for a major drawcard in Tanzania's deck of trumps, Kili can be a shy. She tends to spend most of her time shrouded and hidden behind and beneath a layer of clouds. But we had a few days so we would wait patiently like dedicated peeping toms, and when she slipped out of her gown of white and grey cotton wool we'd be ready for a flash of peak. The only true way to really cop a real feel of Kili of course would be to ascend her slopes and shout down to the rift valley below...Unfortunatley the only shouting I could do was to the poor bugger who happened to be Safari Tout number 702. "I would love to bloody well have a go mate BUT I don't have the $1000 US". An expedition up to the summit does not come cheap, and the budget on this trip did not cover such extravagances...actually the budget was now barely beginning to cover necessities...thats the only reason i began 'borrowing'toilet rolls from some of the hotels...only the ones with spare mind you... So by our fourth day, we had enough peering through a window waiting for Kili to reveal herself, so we headed west. The road lead us to Lake Manyara near the Ngorogoro Crater and Serengeti. It was a beautiful part of the country (and we'd also noticed that the distance between check points had gone from 14km to 114km) We passed herds of cattle being watched over by the Masai. It was the first time we had seen these warrior pastorialists going about their lives and not posing in a mall or on a beach for gawking tourists. Their erect and tall manner, the way they lent against their staff and the way they huddled in small groups on the plain carried a sense of natural belonging. This was their land even though modernity has created problems and tensions for the Masai tribes. And a Masai or even 2 Masai on a bicycle is a wonderful sight, their traditional shukas (checked or striped blankets) flowing behind like a cape.
 
Tanzania is a beautiful country. However its like getting a date with one of those high society types you see on the back pages of some trashy magazine lying around a doctor's surgery or in a basket in your grandmothers toilet . You think it would be a dream come true. Living it up with the most popular, beautiful and famous. Unfortunately you are still just you, not popular, not beautiful (well...no , not necesserily the beautiful part) and not famous. AND definitely not filthy RICH. You get to the front door, rap the giant gold embossed lion head and wait expectently. The door opens slighlty, then slams in your face. Was it the cheap suit, reservation at Sizzler's or just the general odour of 'strapped for cash'. Tanzania is the most popular, beautiful and famous, high society of the safari set and we whiffed of 'low on cash'. So the $200 a day of Ngorogoro and Serengeti were sadly not even opened slightly. (Hopefully we'd see some animals down the road who would  charge less for their services)

As we continued west towards Rwanda, the road disappeared a became a vague line of dust, sand and rocks. It took us four days to cross from Arusha and reach the Rwandan border. We swallowed lungfuls of dust, were shaken like frogs in a blender, got lost amongst the small villages and big cows, misplaced (ie fell off) our bumper a few times (luckily we still had some string) and stayed in some slightly run down establishments (we seemed to be in the minority by not paying by the hour and a syringe lying on my pillow was an free added extra... though I would have preferred soap or shampoo, even a mint.) However, out herethe people seemed more hospitible, generous and geniune. Mzungu's in a golf are not quite as common in these parts. When we reached the Rwanda, we were exhausted but had been re-invigorated by the warmth and friendliness we had found a little lacking in some of the other parts of Tanzania we had visited.