Eureka Vocational Training Centre - Arusha

Leigh Carpenter January - April 2009

3-5 April 2009

Strangers in the Night

I went in on Friday prepared for my trip to visit Julius’s family at Lake Natron. I had weighed up the pros and cons of undertaking this trip but figured how many times am I’m going to get this opportunity. As long as the rains held of I figured everything would be fine. If the rains came I could be stuck there to July. And Julius promises me that the Somali bandits have been chased away.

It was overcast in the morning. I went with Julius early on to buy gifts for his family; three bags of sugar, some Maasai cloths and some sweets for the kids. We went back to the college and I started the English exam. I then rushed out again to buy some food and water. I also found a barber and had a fresh haircut. More expensive this time but competitively priced at £1. Back at college I took my computer lesson. Then I met Julius at 12.00 and we set of to the bus station.

We got a Dalla Dalla pretty quick and we soon travelling along the main road towards Longido. This was all familiar from my previous visit. The road was still bad but perhaps I did the road constructors a disservice last time. There seemed to be some progress on the road and some improved stretches. Still a long way of completion though. Two hours later we rolled into Longido. Julius confirmed we could travel from here and so we disembarked.

We would have to take a Landrover across country to the town of Gelai. There was two cars preparing to make the journey. They were already laden with goods. This being Tanzania they weren’t going to leave until there was enough customers. We had lunch while we waited. Having sussed out which one was going to leave first (the old, battered one in a bad state of repair (actually they both were!)) we loitered around with some other Maasai waiting for something to happen. Time ticked on. It was now nearing four. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity as the Landrover was descended on by a group of school kids (Easter break) and this prompted a rush by people to get aboard. In seconds, about thirty people were crammed in the back of the Landrover. Only then did Julius suggest we board. I looked at the situation. I had been warned that they get notoriously crowded but never imagined this much.. I reprimanded Julius for waiting so long before deciding to board. He told me the driver had promised me a place in the cab but then rescinded on it in favour of two Maasai Elders. I performed a risk assessment. It didn’t score highly. After much discussion and soul searching, I wedged my self in the back, while my bag was strapped to the bonnet. We then set off.

So here I am uncomfortably stuck in the back of a Landrover crossing Africa. I am not exaggerating when I said there was thirty on the back. I counted them. There’s also another two hanging on the back and two sitting on the bonnet. These later turned out to be the drivers essential ‘outriders’ as would become apparent. My mind kept jumping from ‘this is fantastic’ to ‘this is stupidity’ to ‘this is madness’. We pass the sign that says 125km to Lake Natron and hit the dirt road. We begin to get thrown around and the dust starts kicking up. We are moving between 10 and 20 miles an hour. This is going to be a long journey!

As the point of no return passes, I try to relax and enjoy it. You wanted an unique African adventure and this one is definitely no tourist trip. As Mount Longido very slowly moves into the distance we see some ostrich and giraffe roam that makes for a pleasant distraction. After a while a few of the Maasai start singing around me. We trundle, rock and roll on. I jostle myself into a position where I can perch on the roll bar so am no longer standing and where I am wedged in protective cushion of Maasai. I tentatively begin to enjoy the experience.

After three hours of this, the sun starts to set. We see the ‘Mountain of God’ in the far distance (the only active volcano in Tanzania) and there is the most spectacular red sunset. The driver has to stop at every steep incline as we are overweight. Sometimes people have to get off to lighten the load. The outriders job is to wedge rocks under the wheels every time we stall to stop us rolling backwards. When this happens we have to wait a while for the engine to cool. Before the light fails the driver collects everyone’s fare and then suddenly its dark. I suddenly realise how much more dangerous this has got. The road is getting worse and we are driving in the dark. I have also become pushed to the side and am exposed on the edge. The Landrover lisps through one section. I realise that if this went over now I would properly die. My life is in the skill of the driver.

Eventually, I relax again and enjoy the spectacular starry sky and the resumed Maasai singing. Eventually after about four hours we roll into town. Only this is Kitumbeine about halfway! Julius says the road gets bad after here. After a toilet break we find that a group of women with babies had boarded and taken their place on the floor of the Landrover. Great, more passengers. We all squeeze back on. I find a position close to the front this time so I’m almost sitting on the cab. On we go.

The road does get worse. I’m resigned to the fact we will get there when we get there. The pattern is set. We stall a number of times. The engine is overheats. Then, oh joy, we have a puncture. We all have to get off while the wheel is changed. We bounce on through the night. The singing starts again, a mixture of tribal chanting and gentler hymn like songs lead by the school girls. This is my soundtrack as I ponder the night sky. Julius keeps promising me its just round the next hill. A giraffe jumps out in front of the Landrover at one point. Other giraffes lurk in the vegetation. Its funny how a dark Giraffe silhouette at a certain angle looks like a T Rex (or maybe I’m tied and hallucinating)

At 1pm we roll into the deserted town of Gelai. Nine hours on an overloaded Landrover! Julius had promised me a four hour journey. Given his power of time and distance estimation I had assumed six. But nine! I could have flown home in that time!

We find the guest house and I hit the sack. We need to be up at 6am so we can get to Julius’s Camp, and still have time to start the return journey.

So early Saturday, I am up for a quick cold wash. I shake the dust from my shirt and put it back on. We start a ninety minute cross country trek to Julius’s home.

In the daylight this is a spectacularly beautiful remote location. Lake Natron itself is hidden by a hill. But we are in the shadow of Oldoinyo Lengai volcano, the aforementioned ‘Mountain of God’. The view is rimmed by other mountains of he edge of Great Rift Valley and a plain stretches out below. The weather is hot even this early and the terrain is hilly. We eventually come in sight of the first group of family Bomas. This is where Julius’s uncle has set up a secondary camp for him and his wives as the original site became too crowded. As Julius’s father died when he was young, his uncle is considered his farther. We are soon surrounded by many Maasais coming to greet Julius. The small children walk up close to me one at a time head bowed and wait. It is a show of respect. I am expected to touch the head of each one. I feel like the pope giving a blessing. I then have to go round everyone giving them sweets. It feels a weird handing out sweets to a line of adults with open hands but it seems to be expected. After a quick greeting with his Uncle we head the short distance to the main camp. Here we go through the same greeting and sweet ritual. I meet Julius’s Mum and I hand over the gifts I had brought.

Julius shows me around. Essentially the camp is a circular corral where the goats are kept at night. Outside this there is a circle of individual round Bomas. The Bomas are thatched huts made from dried dung. Around this there is a fence of prickly vegetation to keep predators out. I am shown inside two Bomas. The first is his mothers. Its dark, dirty, cramped and smoky. It has two sleeping areas lined in animal skins off a central cooking area. There is also separate compartments where goats can be kept. Julius tells me that bomas are a popular cool hide out for poisonous snakes in the heat of the day. Great! Lets leave now. He shows me his brothers boma. This is a little more organised and roomy. The husband and wife have separate sleeping areas. The man is not allowed in the woman’s area, but the husband can summon his wife to his at anytime.

They are going to sacrifice a goat. Not for me but to celebrate a recent birth. I’m asked if I want to eat some meat. I have to decline. What sort of man doesn’t eat meat? I’m asked through Julius. He explains about health issues and luckily this warrior doesn’t eat meat in Arusha for similar reasons. I was (strangely) interested in seeing the goat killed for the experience but it was already being dissected by the time we reach the clearing. Nothing goes to waste. One warrior was already supping up a nice warm mug of fresh goats blood (which is a mainstay of their diet).

I’m given a mug of hot tea (as the kettle boils smoke slowly seeps through the thatched roof) and some of the ladies give me necklaces as gifts. This has been a fascinating experience and I’m privileged in being here. It’s a shame we can’t stay longer. But we need to go. After two hours we walk back to town in the midday sun, with a short detour to the patch of ground where Julius’s father is buried.

Gelai is now a bustling market town on market day, unrecognisable from the early morning. We rest in town. Julius finds me a room while he investigates transport. I sit and watch life go by outside a bit. I’m a bit of a sideshow here. I’m stared at by everybody. I’m harassed by drunks for money and children and women start offering their jewellery for a ‘good price’. Eventually I retreat to the room and doze in the heat. When I wake Julius tells me he has found two cars. The first one, the Landrover from yesterday will set off at 2pm. Another will leave at 4pm. Given that 2 and 4 probably means at least 4 and 6, I persuade Julius that we ought to get on the first one even if its not his first choice.

I have been promised a cab seat again. This time I stand out the door for an hour to make sure. A group of small children become amused by me. One offers me a biscuit. I amuse my self by teaching them to say please and thank you in exchange for chocolate cookies. True to form its four before we are away. The car pulls away for fifty yards and then stops again for twenty minutes. Just a ruse to try and get more passengers. I got my cab seat and am squashed in next to an elder. The truck only has six in the back this time, but much more cargo. So eventually off we go again. We make good time to Kitumbeine. Day light certainly helps on bad roads (its easy to see how these roads become impassable in the rains). The passenger door where I sit keeps flying open, but hey I’m past caring. We have a puncture as we arrive and as its fixed, I watch one of the outriders lash up the broken back suspension.

The evening is really nice and I contemplate taking a stint in the back for the final thrill of it. I decide I’ve had enough thrills. As darkness falls other things start to give. Something goes bang around the back axis that delays us for a while why they hit it with a hammer. We break down, stall and overheat a few times more. The door still randomly fly’s open. Still, unbelievably we have still made better time and we come out on the main road about 10pm. However it has been decided that rather than stop in Longido we would be dropped of in Namanga another 30km up the road the wrong way from Arusha (the driver had a delivery to make, passenger wishes come second).

Namanga is the town at the border with Kenya. It should be easier to get transport to Arusha here than in Longido. Only its late and I don’t want to travel back tonight. Two of our Massai travellers say they know a cheap guest house. So me, Julius and the two of them make our way to a rather dodgy looking place. The receptionist says they cant guarantee a muzungus safety as they have been broken into before by locals. The Maasai says we should share two rooms and sleep head to toe for security. They will protect me. I inspect the rooms and contemplate the situation. There’s not much choice really and I’m dead tied. And besides I reason that with three Maasai warriors protecting me, I should be pretty safe.

I sleep well. We wake early and I bucket shower. The Maasai have found a Dalla Dalla back to Arusha. Me and Julius are soon aboard. We set off about 7am and start thinking about a hot shower and a change of clothes. But then suddenly the bus swings into the immigration section of the border compound. A woman immigration official comes to the window and starts demanding papers. Of course I’m not carrying my Passport as I had no intention of leaving Tanzania plus I was not expecting to end up here. She informs me that all cars from Namanga have to go through immigration and as I’m clearly not from Tanzania I might be entering the country illegally. She seems unmoved by my argument that I have never left the country. After a standoff period she insists that I get out the bus and remain at immigration. Accompanied by Julius we are escorted to the office to make statements. I am told we must wait until the Officer in Charge reports for duty at 8am who will make a decision. And so this Sunday morning I find my self held as a potential illegal immigrant.

At about 8.30 the Officer in Charge arrives. Eventually we are brought before him. After questioning Julius and dismissing him, he plays the game of ‘ I’m a important man in charge’ with me. In silence he checks his mobile phones, arranges his papers and pens, checks his phones again, contemplates something, reads his notes, checks his phone again. He asks me a couple of questions. I reply. He then goes through his routines again. I just patiently wait. The charade goes on for some minutes until he eventually permits me to go on my way.

We find a new car for Arusha. Of course it must swing through immigration. Of course this cars occupants are completely ignored by immigration officers this time. The office is busier now with real arrivals. I got an overzealous official at a quiet time in the morning.
So eventually I reach Arusha at about midday after an epic eventful journey. I feast on chips and coffee, part with Julius and head home for that shower. I feel though I’ve experienced many sides of Africa this weekend. I have put my life fully in the care of others. I’ve had no control in my fate. I’ve relied on the friendship and hospitality of strangers. They came through for me.