Kasumulo to Dar es Salaam

Beef street kabob. Maybe one of my favorite snacks since I’ve been here.

Off to a Dar-ing start

After delaying my entry into the country due to the election protests, I finally crossed the border into Tanzania. For days, I had been asking as many people as I could, people who had come from Tanzania, people who lived there, and people who had friends living there, about whether they thought Tanzania had finally put the protests to rest. There were a lot of conflicting stories at first, but as I got closer and closer, people began saying things were pretty much back to normal, so I crossed the border. Immediately, the first building I see has scorch marks, broken windows, and equipment strewn in front of it, with caution tape cordoning it off. That was the building where people used to get their visas, but after it was burned down, they relocated to a building for semi-trucks, which was a bit harder to find since there weren’t any signs posted saying they had moved. Finally, I get through immigration and hustle to the lodge. The town had a curfew after it had burned down the border post building, which I didn’t know about until after I crossed over. There was a nearby lodge which probably wouldn’t have been my first choice, but with the curfew looming, I took the first option available. I learned my lesson because, as cheap as it was, I should’ve known I’d get a toilet that didn’t flush, not have a shower or electricity that worked, and not have any ventilation in the room either. After a hearty breakfast and lunch, not checking whether the toilet flushed first was my big mistake. Second was not checking the shower, and third was giving up and going to sleep in a sweaty swimming-pool bed.

A rough start to my first day in Tanzania, but surely the second day has to have been better, right? Well, I’ll let you decide. I go to a local dealer to get a SIM card, then find a taxi to take me to Mbeya. A miscommunication led me to book a private taxi for Isa and me, and to pay far more than we wanted to. I found out that the SIM dealer forgot to give me the PIN, so I can’t send or receive money, access any of the funds I previously put into the account to pay for the taxi (it’s a mobile wallet that you can preload with cash and use like Venmo or CashApp) and, to add to it, it's all in Kiswahili, all while in the car trying to get to Mbeya to catch the Tazara train to Dar es Salaam.

Luckily, I’d managed to pull cash out from an ATM before I left. We reach Mbeya, and the taxi takes me to the train office. I speak with the Station Master, and he tells me the next train might be on Saturday. He doesn’t know for sure, but he gives me the Booking Master's number and tells me to contact him about the train schedule, emphasizing that I shouldn't buy a ticket until I've seen the train with my own eyes. Well, since I can’t take the train for a couple of days at least, I figure I may as well explore Mbeya and find a place to stay for a couple of nights. There’s one listed on Google Maps that seems pretty nice, but after getting to the area, walking around the block a few times, I can’t even find the entrance. I reach out to the owner, who tells me the place isn’t ready for visitors yet and shows me to another hostel. It’s actually a Catholic Youth Center that runs a hostel on the side, still confused by the logistics of it all. Still, it was a nice, clean, comfortable space close to town, and the dorms were empty of other backpackers, so I didn’t have anything to complain about. The next day, I texted the booking master to learn more about the train, only to find out there wouldn’t be one for at least another week. It’s pretty standard for this train to be unreliable, and even the hostel owner told me he didn’t think there would be a train. To pass the time, I walk the city, find a cobbler to repair Isa’s sandals, meet Mickey, the manager at Namala Kitchen, who tells me about the fifty+ countries he’s been to, and try whatever street food is available. Mbeya is a wonderful city, and you can find everything you need if you know where to look, but after a while, I’m ready to move on, so I catch an overnight bus to Dar es Salaam.

St. Joseph’s Cathedral in Dar es Salaam

Sixteen hours spent on a bus, and I arrive in Dar. The city is alive in the midday, so I go to check into the Airbnb before going around the town to meet a friend’s friend. I made the mistake of not asking the bodaboda for the price beforehand. I didn’t know it, but I was heading into the neighborhood where all the people who work abroad for their embassies and consulates live, so imagine my surprise when he quoted 5 times the actual fare. I can’t argue because this was my mistake, so I hand over the money with shaking hands, knowing that I’ve been caught. I wander around the neighborhood before it’s time to meet up, and I’m just surprised at how removed it seems from the rest of the city. Quiet, manicured streets without the usual street stands, dotted with brick and mortar supermarkets and restaurants filled with foods from back home, dedicated to expats, it seems like I’ve stepped away from Tanzania for a minute. Finally, I catch a bodaboda back to the Airbnb (asking the price beforehand) and let my poor wallet rest for the day. I’m up for a relaxing day after yesterday, so I hightail it to an island, lounge in the white sand and crystal blue waters, and finish up my book.

Dar es Salaam is a city with a rich history, so I went on a walking tour to learn more. We visited some notable places, including St. Joseph’s Cathedral, College Park, their botanical gardens, and the Dar fish market, a bustling hub where all the seafood shipped to restaurants in town passes through. I tried some fresh-caught calamari and some of the locally made spice that goes with all their seafood. The tour comes to an end, and after that, I take refuge in an ice cream parlor to try and wait out the stifling midday sun. After I’ve cooled down, I continue exploring the city center, heading for the big market to do some shopping. Kariakoo market is by far the busiest market I’ve ever seen. Colors pop as people display their wares before your eyes, trying to entice you to their stall to buy something, calling out for your attention, and sometimes just grabbing your arm and pulling you aside. We navigate it like experts until we get caught between a stall and a hard place. A truck was coming down the street, and another was moving in the opposite direction. It caused a bit of a standstill as the trucks had to wait for one of them to back up and clear space for the other to pass. The market is set up on the sidewalks and has grown to spill into the street, leaving just enough room for cars to pass if everyone stands very still, holds their breath, and sucks in their stomachs to make way.  I make it out intact and meet up with another friend from Lusaka who moved to Dar for dinner, to catch up, and to get recommendations for other places to visit.

Live lobster’s best lifted like this.

Stuck between a truck and a table full of shoes as we walk around Kariakoo Market.

The Airbnb I stayed at was nice, but it seemed a little like the expat area, a bit removed, so I moved across town to a popular hostel in a better location, Slow Leopard, where I coincidentally met Peace Corps Volunteer Hayden. He was in town finishing his own Peace Corps service and COS’ing. We go around to a couple of his favorite local places before we say goodbye for the night, as I go out to karaoke. I never would’ve guessed it, but Dar-es-Salaam goes hard when it’s karaoke night, and on a Wednesday no less. Amazing performances, a contest featuring some fantastic performances, and then listening to the DJ flip the karaoke bar into a club, it was a whole night.

But Tanzania hadn’t finished showing off itself yet.

Book that’s currently distracting me from writing my next blog post: Paradise X Abdulrazak Gurnah

Song that is probably getting played way too many times: Tell Me Why X Gotts Street Park