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Sacrificial Shoes
Entry 6 of 9 | show all | print this entry |
This morning I sacrificed my shoes to a river god in Tanzania. I didn't mean to do that. In fact, I wish I had not done that. I was walking with a friend into Arusha town and we had decided to take a short cut. The rainy season has just begun here and so the river was much more full than we had anticipated. A lady who was walking along the path handed me a millet stalk without saying a word. I assumed I was supposed to use it as a walking stick, as the path was rather muddy and slippery. When we came to the river, my friend leaped across. Damn those long-legged folk. I stopped and took off my new Campers sandals. I had just gotten them at an extremely good price at a market in Bamenda, Cameroon last week and was very pleased with them. I threw one across the river. It landed, no problem. I threw the other one. It landed in the river. My friend tried to run after it but the water was swift and it was quickly swept away. I tiptoed my way across the cool water to the other side, to join the surviving shoe. A single shoe is a lonely shoe, a useless shoe, so I threw it in the water to join its rogue partner. The path brought us to the backside of the UN Tribunal where trials are still being held for the Rwandan genocide. We had to go through the UN grounds to get to the taxis on the other side. Everyone was wearing suits and high heels. From head to knees, I was looking lovely, but my barefeet were muddy and inconspicuous. People called out to my friend "What is that mzungu doing without her shoes on?" every which way we turned. They all laughed and said "Pole" (an expression of sympathy) when my friend told them the story. We took a taxi to the market to search for another pair of shoes for me. Seeing as I was obviously in dire straits, the shoe sellers had a one-up on me and charged me too much for a new pair of shoes, but I am with shoes once again, and for that, I can't complain
It's been about 3 years since I was last in Tanzania. Things don't appear to have changed too much. Tanzania used to feel like home to me, but with all the new languages that I've learned in Cameroon, Swahili has been pushed to the corners and Tanzania feels more foreign than I anticipated. I keep responding to people in a mixture of Fulfulde, French, English and finally, some Swahili. However, now that I've been here for a couple of days, things are coming back to me. I will be here for just under 2 weeks, visiting friends. I flew into Dar es Salaam, to see my friend Tara, who is here studying at the University of Dar es Salaam. She is doing some interesting research on political participation and how people respond to political stability/instability. It's intriguing to compare what people feel here as compared to Cameroon. Just before I left, Paul Biya (the president of Cameroon) passed a bill through parliament that gave him permission to be president for life and also immunity from any crimes he commits during his stay in office. All over Cameroon, people are talking about this change in the constitution, but no other changes seem too apparent, other than the incredibly high number of military checkpoints across the country. I was forced to show my identification papers about 7 times in the 6 hour bus trip from Bamenda to Yaounde. The military police made all 100 people get off the bus from Yaounde to Douala and show ID before they got back on. Those who didn't have it were forced to pay a little something or not get back on the bus. One can only imagine where that little something ends up. I almost missed my plane to Dar es Salaam because of all the checkpoints and traffic.
I was in Dar es Salaam until yesterday, when I took a bus to Arusha. I am already running into people that I used to know here, which is fun. Tomorrow, I am going out camping/safari with some Tanzanian friends. After this email, I am going to the market to pick up provisions for the trip. Cameroonian food is good and all, but my tastebuds are much more inclined towards all the Indian spices that flavor the foods here and I am looking forward to cooking out on a fire under the stars out in the bush. Hopefully, time will permit me to travel to Kibaya, the village I lived in last time I was here, to visit with my good Maasai friend, Lesika. I just hope that I am feeling up to par with my Swahili by then, otherwise there will just be a lot of gesticulating and giggling, which is fine, but I prefer storytelling with words.
I'm happy to be in Tanzania again but I am already missing the comforts of my home in Cameroon. I had been travelling around Cameroon for a week or so before I left to come here and so the whole living out of a suitcase thing is getting a little boring. Thus, I'm looking forward to returning to my village. That said, I was very ready to leave when the date of departure arrived. Work is going well enough, despite the challenges that keep popping up. The more time I spend in the village, the more secrets I learn about the villagers, some of them quite shocking. People that I have been working with for over a year now are showing new faces. Gross faces. And it's not even that they are showing these faces to me, I am just learning about them by talking with the other villagers. Without publishing details, I will just say that it's pretty discouraging and disappointing to find out certain things. I can hardly believe that I have spent over a year in Bame and I am only just finding out important things about these people that have a huge effect on my working relationships. I guess people don't want to spread bad gossip about people and want to let me form opinions on my own, which I appreciate. But there are certain things that I should know, despite how disappointing they can be. I still have my standard crew of 5 or so people that I have full confidence in and these are the people that share a beer with me at the end of a long day and laugh with me and sympathize at my comic rantings. These are also the people that I often find slipping away before they pay for the beers which we drank together. I don't mind so much though, because otherwise I would be the only one drinking, and that is no fun. Besides, when I am at their houses, they offer me endless calabashes of bilibil or handfuls of peanuts.
I must run to the market now, but before I forget, I do have cellphone number here in Tanzania- it's +255 782 630 852. I hope you are all well!
much love,
Michele
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