Kuuliza si ujinga

Take out a map of Tanzania, and look for two towns: Karatu and Dodoma. If you can't find Karatu, look for Arusha instead. Found them? Good. Now, tell me: what do you think would be the fastest route between these two places?

If you said 'Head straight south', your answer is logical...but wrong. The fastest way from Karatu to Dodoma is to go from Karatu to Moshi, Moshi to Morogoro, Morogoro to Dodoma. In other words, to go east, then south, then west again.

Why? Because that's where the paved roads are. The land between Karatu and Dodoma is sparsely settled and undeveloped. As a result, the roads are unpaved, and the buses that travel them are old and poorly-maintained. I have asked many Tanzanians, 'What about the road south to Dodoma?' The answer is always the same: Don't even think about it. Take the paved road through Arusha.

Sound attractive? I thought it did. So about a week ago, I forsook the paved road through Arusha, and hopped on a car headed for the bumpy southern road.

The plan was as follows:
Day 1: Karatu to Mbulu, Mbulu to Babati. A night staying with American missionaries in Babati.
Day 2: Babati to Kondoa, Kondoa to Dodoma, Dodoma to my friend's school. This was iffy, as I'd need to get to Dodoma by 4 pm to catch the car to his school, and Babati to Kondoa is 8 hours if everything goes as planned (and when does everything go as planned in rural Tanzania?).

DAY 1: KARATU TO BABATI

I awoke at 5:30 am with a plan to be at the main road waiting for a car by 7 am. As usual, Tanzania foiled my carefully-laid plans. It took longer than expected to get everything ready: to pack my bags, sweep my floor, and leave my house clean for me to come back to. It also took longer than expected to give neighbors my watering can and buckets so they could water my garden when I was gone. Greetings are important in Tanzania, you can’t hurry through them. And if your headmaster wants you to write a letter for him before you leave, well, you write it and arrive, with a sigh, at the road at 8:30.

I was headed toward the town of Mbulu. Of course, since I was headed toward Mbulu, all the cars that passed were going the other way. I finally got in an Mbulu-bound private car after over an hour of waiting, and reached Mbulu by noon.

A quick lunch and a glance around Mbulu: a quiet, forested town, too bad I’m in too much of a hurry to stay. I asked around the small bus stand for transport to Babati. “The Babati buses all left already, you could come back in the morning.” Umm, no, it’s necessary I reach Babati today. “Then take a Katesh bus and get off at Dereda.” I was pointed to a bus that already looked full. “Can you stand?” the conductor asked. “Um…sure.” I got on and crowded into the already-full aisle.

It was the first day of school vacation, and all the students were leaving their schools in town to go back to their home villages. Hence, a very crowded bus, but also a bus full of the people I’m most used to interacting with: students. The crowded, cramped four hour ride felt a little shorter due to conversations with my neighbors. I did eventually get a seat—with bags and a child on my lap—but was nevertheless very happy when we finally reached the town of Dereda, and I switched for a shorter, much less crowded bus to Babati.

Babati is not a big town. But it is the capital of its region, which means it has paved roads and electricity. We had views of the town’s namesake lake, Lake Babati, on the way in. And the town as a whole was much greener than I expected. Thanks to seeing the lake and the trees and to arriving successfully before dark, I was in a good mood as I got off the bus and started walking to the missionaries’ house.

A side note, in case you’re wondering, how did you meet missionaries? The short story is that another Peace Corps volunteer gave me their phone number. The longer story is that there’s a sort of network of Americans in Tanzania who welcome Peace Corps volunteers to their houses. Not everyone’s in it; there are plenty of Americans living in Tanzania who have no interest in hosting Peace Corps volunteers. But there are others who open their houses to us, and encourage us to pass on their phone numbers to our friends. The missionaries are in this group. Even though the Peace Corps philosophy is very, very different from the missionary philosophy, the shared experience of being foreigners in Tanzania is the same. We don’t meet with the intention of changing each other’s political or religious views, we simply meet to share stories of living here, and to give or take hospitality as it’s offered.

And so, I spent my evening in Babati in America. At least that’s what it felt like. The missionaries have four children, meaning that they wanted their house to be fairly American. A hot shower! Pizza and lemonade for dinner! Styrofoam plates! Children sitting on the floor, watching a movie! I went to bed feeling very thankful for the hospitality. Day one was a success, but I still had the bumpy roads and unknown territory of northern Dodoma region ahead of me.

(continued in the entry above this one)

# posted by Kristen @ 7:43 AM