Daladala, Danlee na mwalimu wangu

The daladala is the equivalent of the Kenyan matatu or dolmuṣ in Turkey. The sidekick does not tab your shoulder, but shakes the coins he is holding in his hand when he stands in front of you. Opposed to some matatu’s that act like a Saturday night club, most daladala do not have radios. Hurray! Also, the price is fixed accordingly to the distance you are traveling to. In Kenya you end up paying more when held up in a jam or in the rain. The Ms Debate in me tends to surface. Yet, I do understand their point of view. One journey less to and from town reduces their income for the day. Another difference is the amount of customers you are allowed to take. In Kenya it is according to the available seats or let’s put it a bit more accurate: in Nairobi they stick to this rule. The further away from town the more people get squeezed into this tiny bus. Hehe. In Tanzania you are squeezed anyway. No limits. This results in a game of Twister. Red for grabbing the bar above you, blue for putting your feet in between the legs of your neighbor, green for having your purse preventing the view of a sitting neighbor and yellow as a Joker. The latter is of great importance. You can be lucky and have a free hand to take the seat and balance yourself. Or your European but can be pushed by an African but onto the lab of somebody else. No disrespect. But one needs to acknowledge that their anatomy is slightly different. Hehe. In Tanzania they seem to care a bit more about you not missing your stop. They shout the name of the bus stop and you respond with ‘shuha’ if that is the place to be for you.

On some hours of the day these buses are not so crowded and then the folklore is so lovely. Muslims and Christians, men and women, young and old, police men in white which makes you wonder how they can sustain it that white, youngsters with a bucket filled with ice and fish taking a fish out and presenting it to you as a proposal to buy it and so on and on.

Danlee, my fellow colleague student, is not too fond of this means of transport. She rathers travels with the bajaj, also known as tuk tuk in many parts of the world (Thailand, India, Peru, Mombasa-Kenya). Or for those who are not familiar with it: kinda of a motorized (Indian) riksja. Anyway, Danlee is more comfortable in a small bike taxi opposed to being squeezed in a bus. She is tiny and cannot reach the bar easily, so you can’t blame her. She is a very sweet lady. Originally from the state of New Mexico where she rents a room for tourists/ guests, two dogs and finds peace after stressful months on a movie set as a make-up artist. How cool, right? She is in Tanzania to volunteer with the Jane Goodall Foundation - if I say Tarzan, Jane's name should ring a bell - for six months after which she wants to continue to India. I can’t get rid of the feeling she is on a Eat Pray Love – tour. Hehe.

Our teacher(mwalimu) is called Benjamin. He likes pizza and warm beer (gosh!). He has two children. For now. He has been quarreling with his wife. She wants a third, he does not consider it as a bright idea. Currently it is cold war at that house. He just opened up about this. Quite surprising, because it is my impression Tanzanians are far more humble and introvert than Kenyans. This is portrayed in their speech. Tanzanians say ‘Ninaomba…’ or ‘I would like…’ whereas Kenyans can’t see a reason to be that polite if you are a paying customer. So they use ‘nipe…’ or ‘give me…’

Another reason for their silence might be the fact their English is not that fluent and my Swahili not yet good enough for a sweet conversation. Once they do speak English better a lot of jokes still go down the drain and my kind of humor is not understood. Maybe I am not funny or maybe they have a different kind of humor or maybe there is a language barrier. Too soon to judge on that.

One thing is certain: the impressions are piling up, so hapa hapa! (stay tuned)