Some Other Stuff

So this blog is as long as it is unimportant. Please do not feel like you have to read all of it (or any of it, for that matter). I thought it might be good to catch whoever is interested up on the more day-to-day happenings here in Africa. It is randomly organized for your convenience.

A True Story From Iganga, Uganda

I was in the tiny backseat of someone’s compact SUV (comparable to a Tracker), when the driver tentatively pulled onto the road, attempting to make a right turn (which, because Africans drive on the left side of the road, meant getting across one lane of traffic before joining the flow of traffic moving from our left to our right). The opportunity he took to execute this maneuver would probably not even be classified as an “opportunity” in the States. There was a boda boda (motorcycle taxi) headed straight for us as we edged out onto the road. However, in Africa, forceful driving is the norm, and I trusted this would be another success story. As it turns out, it was too aggressive even for Africa. Perhaps if we had stepped on it, we would have given the motorcyclist the easy decision of slipping past us to our rear. Easier still would his decision have been if we had just waited, allowing the motorcycle (and its two riders) safe passage in front of us. As it were, there was complete indecision. It was like the street version of all of those awkward instances you’ve had in hallways where you and the person you are trying to pass going the opposite direction step to the same side. You then stop, but so does your counterpart, only to move again (but to the other side) at exactly the same time you do. Our driver, realizing he had made a bad decision in pulling out at all, hesitated, as did the motorcyclist. Upon seeing this, our driver accelerated a bit, and the motorcycle also sped up. At this point, we resolved to stop completely. The motorcyclist swerved to his right and accelerated even more, attempting to make the pass in front of us. However, as you may have guessed, these differences in resolve, to stop and to go, came too late. The motorcycle clipped our front bumper, taking off one of the lights as it toppled over on its side. Both the driver and the woman he was carrying hit the ground. I held my breath and then opened my mouth (which I quickly covered with my hand).

We then finished our right turn, and began to accelerate again! I and the other American in the car urged our driver to stop and make sure no one was seriously injured. He muttered something about driving to the police station before heeding our advice and pulling over. We waited for a minute or two, and then the motorcyclist (having picked up his bike, started it, and turned around) pulled over in front of us. Then they began to deal, and the man, his leg bleeding, got compensation for his ripped pants (which were his main concern). They settled on 40,000 schillings, I think, which is less than 20 bucks. This was double the price it would have been if there had been no Americans in the car, but since we are made of money, the ante was upped. The woman who had fallen off the back of the bike was apparently fine, because as the deal came to a close, she walked up and handed us the light that had been knocked off of the car.

In our driver’s defense (and before you think him to be a heartless felon), I later found out that you are actually supposed to drive to a police station after an accident. This ensures safety, because people here tend to take things into their own hands (like settlements) and can get angry, violent, and dangerous. Bystanders then often eagerly leave their peanut gallery to fight for justice, themselves being the judges, the jury, and the sentence-enforcers. This is especially true when mzungus are involved.

A Couple Of African Fun Facts

Uniquely Kenyan is sheng, their slang language that is a crude mixture of English and Swahili. I was told that younger people (my age and below) began speaking it so that their parents could not understand them. It has its own expressions, such as, “Otherwise…,” to which you are supposed to respond with a bit of mundane news. It’s like saying, “What’s new?” Kenya has a bad reputation for having horrible Swahili (according to Tanzanians), and I suspect sheng to be one of the reasons why,

The Massai tribe is a people group that lives in both Kenya and Tanzania… and quite possibly Uganda, but I didn’t hear of them. The Massai live mostly in rural areas, practicing their animistic religion and strongly clinging to their African culture. Why? Tribal pride. They don’t want to be diluted by modernization, losing their historic traditions, beliefs, and practices. They live in small family groups, many practicing polygamy. A lot of them still educate their children in schools, but the Massai still dress in traditional African garb, many carrying large staffs. Some can be seen in big cities, driven to take up jobs there as security guards by the Rift Valley Fever, which struck some years ago. If you recognize the name from one of my earlier blogs, yes… they are the same ones who took advantage of me in the Nairobi market. These Massai were certainly not out of touch with society, for they knew at least enough to get a comparatively immense amount of money out of me as I naïvely and helplessly cooperated.

Also, Barrack Obama is wildly popular in every African country that I have been to. In Kenya, it made sense. His dad was Kenyan… but as it turned out, his popularity reached to Uganda and Tanzania as well. There is paraphernalia of all kinds, ranging from belt buckles to t-shirts, and everyone asks me about him when they find out that I am from America.

Transportation

I already shared with you an unfortunate transportation story from Uganda, but allow me to briefly list the transportation woes from Kenya and Tanzania. From Nairobi to Molo, we had to stop for repairs three times. Needless to say, we arrived much later than we had planned (but we also left 5 hours after we had planned). On the return trip from Molo, we got a flat tire. In Dar es Salaam, as I have mentioned before, the traffic is horrible. As Brittany and I were on our way to a college to help with registration for a conference, we got stuck in traffic. Our driver would turn the 1986 Toyota van off every time we stopped to conserve diesel. One such time, it would not start again, and I helped push the van to the side of the road. After tinkering with some parts, making some calls, and talking with some bystanders (who were helping so that they could receive some compensation), our driver found the battery, knocked off some corrosion, poured some water on it, and hit it with a wrench. The van started and we have used it as-is ever since.

This also reminds me, getting gas in Africa is different. There is always an attendant who pumps the gas for you and handles the transaction. Half the cars here take diesel, and the gas stations are called petros stations. Petros is fuel for cars. Gas is fuel for cooking.

Food

Kenya – People here “take tea” more frequently than in the other two countries. I really enjoyed this. They made it with half milk and half water, and usually put in a lot of sugar. At least three times a day is the norm, although this is often greatly surpassed. A staple dish in Kenya is ugali. Ugali is a white cake that is made of maize. It has less taste than white rice but a similar thick and sticky consistency. They eat it with their hands, mashing other food together with it. It isn’t bad when you do this, but it gets old for my taste buds. Maize is sold here as corn on the cob on the side of the road everywhere. People roast it over hot coals and sell it for a cheap price. If you’re lucky, you can find a stand that has chili seasoning which you can apply with a piece of lime. People eat corn almost as often as we chew gum, a quick, convenient, and on-the-go snack. I really liked this.

Uganda – The staple dish here is matoke. Matoke is steamed mashed bananas. It isn’t bad, but odd for someone who has only ever eaten bananas raw or dried (unless banana Runts also count…).

Tanzania – While I have yet to discover a food that is uniquely Tanzanian, rice is served daily, which is more than it necessarily was in the other two countries. Fish is also a favorite, although this too, I had eaten before arriving in Tanzania. Fish in Africa is served eyeballs and all. Mom would love it. One time here, Brittany and I were served mashed yams (which neither of us really loved).

Other African favorites are beef, goat meat, chicken, chips (french fries), buiscuits (closer to vanilla wafers), stew of all kinds, steamed or boiled vegetables, sugar cane (for another side-of-the-road snack), really good juice, oranges, beans, nuts, etc. I have enjoyed it all for the most part, but miss the unhealthy snacking between meals.