Cenene

Early in the morning I pass the market on my way to a meeting. The market is crowded, people are shouting around and it looks like something really important is happening. I decide that work has to wait 5 minutes for me to be able to find out what is going on. I push my way through the crowds and see people hassling over something in white bags. Negotiations are tough and it seems that the price is going more up than down. I push myself a bit more forward to be able to find out what is in the white bags and why people are so excited about it. The bags are moving, that’s what I am sure about, but what is in it?

After I find out, I walk to the place where my meeting is taking place. Of course, being 5 minutes later is not a problem; I still end up waiting for half an hour. That gives me time to chat with the secretaries in the office. I learned before that it is very important to befriend them so that in case you need some printing job to be done, you can avoid queuing at the little secretarial offices by just going to one of your friends to do it for you! One of the secretaries is very excited today. She just came from the market to buy the last harvest of this season. ‘And they were good this year!’, she says. ‘Let me show you how to peel it’. While peeling she asks if I have ever eaten this delicious meal, which is not only her favourite but also that of all other people of the Kihaya tribe who live in this region of Tanzania. Upon my answer that I never really tried, she invites me to come to her house for dinner. ‘We will cook them and you will love it’. I thank her for the invite and am happy that right at that moment her boss calls me into his office. On his desk: cenene: the food I am talking about. After greeting me the traditional way and expressing his satisfaction with my ability to answer all his funny greetings (how are you, how is your house, how is your village, how is your family, how is work, how is the rain this morning and how are the cenene), he continues his informal chat. ‘Have you ever eaten cenene? It is the best food we have and we just got the last harvest’. I tell him that I passed the market on my way to his office and how surprised I was about the excitement of the people. The last harvest is reason for everyone to go out and see how the harvest of this year looks.

After this meeting, I meet with my employer. His first question is whether I have seen the market place today. I start laughing and tell him that by now I am fully informed about the cenene. His addition to the story is that when he travelled to the UK last year, he took a bag of cenene which he bought for 10 pounds sterling. In the UK, he was able to sell it to Tanzanian people from the Kihaya tribe for a total amount of 200 pounds. Well, I know what I have to bring home next time I go to Europe!

Grasshoppers are the things that people here are making such a fuss about. Before you cook them, you take of the wings, the head and tail and what is left is the delicacy of the region. I will gain some more courage before I will try. At least to be able to tell people around that ‘yes, I have eaten it’. I am sure that will help my integration process in the country.

Police

I have written quite a number of blogs about the police during my 2.5 years stay in Africa and I am quite sure that some are still to follow. The guys in the blue uniforms are definitely one of my biggest challenges in this lovely continent. Also last week, my patience was tested by one of those guys.

During my first weeks in Tanzania I got my learners’ license to be able to ride a ‘pikipiki’ (motorbike). Now, after 3 months, the learners’ license expires and I have to apply for an official one. One morning last week I left the house to go to town to sort this out. And it became a long long long day of hard work.

The first thing I had to do, people told me, is to go to the Tanzanian Revenue Association to get a form to apply for my license. So, my first stop this morning is at the desk of a government official. After a brief exchange of greetings (how are you, how is work, how is the house, how is your family), I get the form, fill it in and am told to go to the police to have the form stamped. Of course, how could I expect anything different, is the police station on the other end of town. In the pouring rain, I walk to the police station where I knock at the office of the ‘traffic police, while dripping from head to toe. The normal exchange of greetings is in this case suddenly not necessary. The fat man behind the desk must have left his bed on the wrong side this morning, since even my sweetest smile doesn’t get him to open up, not even a bit! My request to speak English is also not granted. ‘You just speak Swahili!’. And so, the tone of the conversation is being set. No friendliness but rudeness from his side and a lot of begging and pleading is expected from my side. I try my hardest to be as humble as I can and stumble my way through the Swahili words I know, while offering the form to the Officer in charge. The Angry Man glimpses at the form and pushes it back into my direction. ‘You should have used a blue pen, not a black pen. Go back to the TRA office and fill a new form’. ‘Oh I am so sorry sir, thank you sir, see you later sir’. While talking a lot to myself and not using the most positive vocabulary, I walk back in the rain. My friends at that office have never encountered this problem before, but they are so kind to give me a new form and a blue pen to fill it in. Not long after that am I walking again, avoiding all the puddles of water and trying not to get too wet, in the direction of the police office. The Angry Man has granted one of my requests which is to speak English. ‘Thank you so much Sir, that is very kind of you Sir’. He looks at the form again and pushes it back to my side of the table. ‘Now you go back and get a learners’ license for a car, otherwise I can’t give you a Tanzanian car license’. With all my patience that is left, I try to explain the man that about 20 years ago I passed all tests in Europe and have been driving a car ever since. ‘Do I really need a learners’ license for a car Sir?’ The look on his Angry face, says enough: ‘Yes, you go now’. And so, very soon after I arrived am I on my way back to TRA. The biggest mistake I made in this whole issue, of course, is not to offer this fat man a bribe. But, I refuse to waste my money on these type of people and so I need to be prepared to be treated like this! The people at the TRA office are very happy to see me at their desk again. They can’t believe what I am going through and upon my request they write a short note to the police officer to ask for his cooperation.  When I get back to the police office, lunch time has started. After I waited for more than an hour, the man appears, looks at me and slams his door before I even have the opportunity to turn my face towards it. The other 7 people waiting are probably even more annoyed than I am, although I can’t believe that being possible. After another 20 minutes of waiting and complaining about those ‘police who are not serious’, the door opens. Apparently the nap of the man has taken long enough. Mister Angry looks at the note of the TRA people and stares at his computer screen. After another 5 minutes I leave his office with a stamp and his signature on my form. Hurray, I am out of there! ‘Thank you so much Sir, good bye Sir’.

My delight does not take very long, though. My friends at TRA tell me that Mister Angry has ‘forgotten’ to enter my data into the computer system. I need to go back. I already ran out of patience a couple of hours ago and this is just too much! Luckily enough it is still raining and during my walk back to the police station, I cool down a bit. It is already late and I expect that the policeman will have left his office or will send me away because he wants to go home. I prepare myself for the worst when I find my place in the queue. But, Oh what a miracle, after only 20 minutes waiting and a last unfriendly look, I am ready to leave again. Job done! My anger, the coldness and rain have absorbed all my energy and by this time TRA has closed. So I decided to leave the rest of the job till tomorrow.

And ........ this afternoon I left the TRA office with a brand new, shiny, Tanzanian green driving license! I am ready for another encounter with my friends of the police, which I am sure, won’t take long before it happens!

Walk at night

I have just finished a meeting and a nice meal and am on my way home. The venture of the meeting is not far from where I stay, the evening is beautiful and so I have decided to walk. The last few weeks the temperature has decreased to Dutch levels. Most days it rains at least for a couple of hours and sometimes it rains so hard you can’t see a thing. My sleeveless shirts are on the bottom of my pile with clothes and I find myself wearing my one and only fleece too often. The locals have changed their wear to winter clothes. People wear warm jackets and a lot accompany them with gloves and a shawl. I do agree with them that it is cold, but since it’s still around 18 degrees I am still comfortable without these accessories.

Today, however, was a beautiful day. After impressive thunders during the night with even more impressive rainfall, the sun appeared from behind the clouds this morning. My meeting took place on a terrace overlooking the lake. Even after sunset the temperature was nice. And so, I walk home. The electricity just went off and everything I can see is darkness. The moon is there and lids my way. There are numerous stars in the sky and I can even see the Milky Way. I walk and enjoy. The only things I hear are insects. Behind me a motorbike appears from the dark, passes me and disappears in the dark again. I leave the main road and turn to a small dirt road. The heavy rainfalls have turned this road in a muddy path with a lot of holes, rocks and puddles. I am careful not to hurt my ankle and see why people in the villages don’t go out after dark at all. Only one moment of carelessness and you can easily wound yourself.

I reach the gate to my house safely and our Massai security guard walks slowly into my direction. I realise he has a big bandage around his ankle and ask him what happened. He tells me he just got bitten by a snake and the neighbour has cut his foot to allow the poison to leave his leg. And I was just worried about stepping in a pothole!