Rafiki: Friend

More than a Name

Rounding out the Swahili words I was familiar with prior to Tanzania is the simple word "rafiki." Rafiki means more than just the name of the wise, prophetic monkey in the Disney movie. It means "friend."

Like in Ghana, Tanzania was a remarkably friendly country, with well-intentioned strangers everywhere, ready to lend a hand or help where possible. Relationships in Tanzania are born first from conversations and lengthy greetings, then by common interests and purposes. In Tanzania, I made a number of great friends that will not soon escape my memory. But, as tends to be typical of me, my most memorable friends were those I played soccer with: Jakob and Castro.

Castro

When my small plane landed in Mwanza, my backpack and I skipped the baggage-claim hassles and went straight to the streets, where a taxi-driver asked if I needed a lift. He introduced himself as 'Castro' (maybe not a typical Swahili name), and proceeded to drive me to my hotel on Lake Victoria. Along the way, we talked soccer, and arranged to meet later in the day to go out to the soccer fields by the airport. I wanted to watch some good soccer in northern Tanzania. Castro had other plans for me.

After I arrived, Castro handed me his cleats, and showed me his ankle. "Swollen, see? Injured last week." While he hobbled around as the referee, I put his cleats to use and played striker on his team. Through soccer - which remains the one global language that transcends verbiage or grammar patterns - Castro welcomed me into his group of friends. No longer seen solely as a 'Mzungu', I was now a rafiki. And I was invited to return the next day to take part in a more official match.

Jakob

How's this for a random act of kindness: walk a wandering stranger through your village for 20 minutes to get back to the main road. Show him your home. Ensure his safety. Translate for him when necessary. Jakob - my 15 year old impromptu tour guide in Mwanza - did all of these things for me, the lost, aimlessly wandering white guy who stumbled upon his village. On the walk, he showed me his home, introduced me to his brothers, and made sure my valuables were out of sight when we walked through the crowded part of his neighborhood. Through some Swahinglish, we exchanged life stories over a Coke once we returned to the main road. His showcased his soccer skills for us, juggling a soccer ball made from plastic bags, a rock in the middle, and fishing-wire.

Safari: the Journey

The Swahili word 'safari' means to embark on a journey. To go away. To move between two points. Thus, you can have a successful safari without seeing lions, elephants, or giraffes. And in Tanzania, the thrill of the safari is the process of the journey itself. Like life, the safari is not about the destination so much as it is about the ride itself.

With this meaning in mind, I went on several safaris over the course of my stay in Tanzania.

Zanzibar

It started with a two hour ferry ride across a sliver of the Indian Ocean to arrive at the turquoise waters off the Zanzibar coast, and ended with a terrifying 12-seater flight back to point A three days later. As the previous post describes in detail, my journey to Zanzibar was a weekend I'll never forget.

Mwanza > Musoma > Arusha > Dar es Salaam (by bus)

The second largest city in Tanzania, settled on the southernmost point of Lake Victoria, Mwanza made a great stopping point during my trip's second safari. The city itself is pleasant; smaller and more spread out than Dar es Salaam, it has a more communal feel than either Arusha or Dar. Capri Point provides a nice spot to look out over the fishing boats and trading vessels traveling across Africa's largest lake, and the market - accessible and friendly - shows the life of the city.

People often provide the defining memories of a safari. And the Tanzanians I got to know in Mwanza were truly gracious and welcoming. I was invited to join the airport's soccer team - consisting of taxi drivers who shuttle foreigners from the airport to the nicer hotels in town and several airport employees. Though I didn't produce a goal, I was able to provide an assist en route to a 2-2 draw against another local team. Our team wore Manchester United replica jerseys (completing my transfer from Arsenal to Manchester United; see last summer's post from Ghana). Lake Victoria was beautiful, and Mwanza was an excellent launching point for my safari back to Dar.

From Mwanza, I took three bus rides in three days to return to Dar es Salaam. My safari took me first north to the fishing town of Musoma, then back east via the Serengeti to Arusha, and finally southwest past Mount Kilimanjaro back to Dar es Salaam. After spending 25 hours on a bus in 3 days, I emerged with a new appreciation for paved roads and deodorant, as well as several new friends and fun stories from the journey across Tanzania. It was truly a great safari, and the highlight of my trip.

The Mzungu Safari...

With 18 days in country, I was able to spend some time on what a Westerner ("Mzungu) considers a true 'safari' - driving around for hours in hopes of seeing some of nature's most incredible creatures in the wild, before they run off at the sight and sound of a vehicle. With friends from the embassy, I traveled to Mikumi National Park, a small game reserve a few hours southwest of Dar, which proved to be a very inexpensive yet successful alternative to the Serengeti. And, as mentioned, my safari from Mwanza to Dar took me on a micro-safari through the Sergenti itself, though my bus-driver's break-neck race-pace down a road full of pot-holes and gravel sent the herds of zebras scurrying and kept the larger game out of sight. Still, seeing these animals in the wild - whether at Kruger in South Africa or Mikumi in Tanzania - is truly awe-inspiring.

Hakuna Matata: Zanzibar

"Hakuna Matata."

I can say with confidence that this wonderful (Swahili) phrase, meaning "no worries," was the first I fully internalized. I suppose I owe my thanks mostly to Timon and Pumba of The Lion King. But if the Disney movie taught me what the phrase meant, Zanzibar showed me.

White sand beaches. Narrow, winding alleyways. Silhouettes of dhows sailing on turquoise water against orange-pastel sunsets. Everything about Zanzibar is exotic and welcoming. And to cap it all off, the phrase "Hakuna Matata" not only embodies the island's pace and way of life, but surfaces regularly in conversations.

I found this phrase remarkably easy to incorporate into my exchanges with the locals during my 72 hour stay on the island...

-Bad pass on the beach-side soccer field? No worries. "Hakuna Matata."

-No, I don't need a taxi, a tour-guide, or a porter. Just walking. "Hakuna Matata."

-You're trying to sell me that painting for three times what it's worth? I'm not buying it, but "Hakuna Matata" anyway.

-No idea what I'm saying in English? I can't understand your Swahili, either. "Hakuna Matata" (and a smile).

Making the most of Zanzibar

Language-training aside, my stay in Zanzibar was superb. Zanzibaris are understandably welcoming to the tourists and foreigners who are driving their economy. And tourists who came to Tanzania to relax could easily spend a week in Zanzibar: the beaches on the east coast are pristine. Snorkeling, sailing trips, and tours of the island's spices are easy to arrange. And Stone Town has enough to fill several days worth of historical sight-seeing alone.

With just two full days and a morning in Zanzibar, I spent a night on a quiet beach on the east coast in the pleasant village of Jambiani, spent Saturday evening walking the winding alleys of Stone Town and eating at Foradhani Gardens, and spent Sunday touring the Old Slave Market at the Anglican Church as well as the old Palace Museums. And if soccer is your sport, as it is mine, then stopping by the sporting grounds to join a pick-up game is an absolute must.

If I could do Zanzibar all over again, I wouldn't have done anything differently. Except, perhaps, pick up a bit more Swahili than just the one phrase. But no worries. "Hakuna Matata."

My Crash Course in Swahili

Tanzania: my introduction to East Africa.

Having traveled to West and Southern Africa, I found myself wanting to experience the culture on the Swahili Coast. Time allowed for a three week trip to Tanzania, a country world-famous for its game parks (notably the Serengeti), Africa's highest peak in Mount Kilimanjaro, and its white-sand beaches.

Yet after a couple of days on the ground in-country, warning signs appeared that my choice to visit Tanzania would produce two unfortunate and closely linked consequences: high costs and tourists.

The costs of tourists.

You would think that in a region of the world - Sub-Saharan Africa - where 50% of the population makes less than $1 a day, costs of travel and food would be cheaper than in the West. Not so in Dar es Salaam, the commercial capital of the country. Nor is it so in Arusha, the tourist-capital of the country. Nor in Zanzibar, the beautiful and historic island a two hour ferry ride off the coast. See the trend?

Because of Tanzania's popularity as a tourist destination, prices in urban centers - especially in areas where Mzungu (foreigners) are likely to be present - rival the costs of living in the suburbs of a US city.

"If I wanted to relax, I would not have come to Africa."

The second consequence happens to be the tourists themselves. It's difficult to enjoy parts of the country simply because of the population density of foreigners, eager to take advantage of the white sands, the views, and the wildlife, without the slightest interest in the history and the people of Tanzania.

As a result, taxi drivers, hotel managers, and travel agents flocked to me over the course of my time in Tanzania, eager to tell me where I could go to 'relax.' But that wasn't the purpose of my trip. As Paul Theroux puts it in his travel memoir Dark Star Safari, "If I wanted to relax I would not have come to Africa." Rather than relax with the other foreigners on the white-sand beaches a stone's throw from barefoot children living in homes made of mud, I wanted to see the real Tanzania. Ultimately, it would require leaving the urban centers entirely.

Still, despite the negative externalities of my choice to visit Tanzania, the benefits outweighed the costs in the end, and the country's people, history, and culture left me with yet another unforgettable visit to Africa. It was a crash-course in Swahili, where I learned new phrases and realized that I already had some of the language built into my vocabulary.

Hakuna Matata, Rafiki, Safari.

Those three Swahili concepts account for the better memories of my time spent in East Africa. In the next three posts, I'll elaborate on each one.