Each morning we have had some time with Rosie and family, and breakfast together. This morning we tried a new, even cheaper place. We had cups of tea, chapattis and rice cakes for $A2 between the two of us. The children are benefiting from having some time in playgrounds and the chance to have afternoon sleeps at Giovanna’s. Nevertheless, Sebi has said that he wants to go home. Rosie and Ticha have been able to catch up with friends, and we have met some of them too. Rosie showed us all the goodies that she had bought, and they were beautiful, so we decided to look around a little more ourselves. When we did, we fell in love with a table cloth with elephants and vivid patterns on it.
The computer was to be ready in the afternoon, so we walked down towards the Central Bus Station, a place to beware of, according to the Lonely Plant Guide. Before we even got there, while we were only at the fruit and vegetable market that looked as if it would be very interesting, touts came swarming around us. We didn’t feel that we could go into the market comfortably at that point, since a man had latched onto us and wanted to be our guide. Perhaps we would come back later. There were many fabric shops and tailors in the area, and I was keen to find some material for Kathryn, but wanted one that I was sure that she would like. I turned my head towards a shop and now Richard in the yellow shirt joined the other two in trailing us, telling us that his mother had a fabric stall and that she was old like me, that she would give me a good price etc. Keith told all three who were now following us that we were not going to go to shops with them, nor were we buying anything just then, and eventually he told them to go away, that we wanted to walk around on our own. Two took the hint but Richard started tailing us, darting from hiding spot to hiding spot. It was pretty horrible and neither of us liked it. When we arrived at the bus station, he was still only about four metres behind us. I went into a fabric shop to have a look, but there was nothing there that was suitable. When I came out, Richard jumped out from behind a display of scarves and said accusingly, “See, I knew you were going to buy fabric, even though you said you weren’t. I am a Christian and we would give you a good price if you came to my mother’s shop.” Keith was fed up with Richard and told him that on no account would we go to his mother’s shop or any other shop that he recommended. The message finally got across. There had been no pleasure for us in going shopping in that area, and I don’t know which tourists this sort of harassment would be appreciated by.
Buying a bus ticket to Tanga was an experience. Once we had stepped onto the open parking ground of the central bus station, we were fair game. There are different bus companies who sell tickets for their buses, but there are other ‘companies’ or individuals who sell tickets for the buses too. The prices are all different, so just going to the office, really a kiosk, with the bus to the place you want to go to is not enough. Then there are the luxury buses, the semi-luxury buses and the ordinary buses with no suspension, no seat padding and people standing up in the aisles all the way. Trying to work things out while five or men are grabbing at you and shouting about their buses is fairly daunting. Nevertheless we looked at different places and chose a cheaper one where the man said that the ticket was for a luxury bus. I made a special point of asking if the luggage was free with that ticket, and since it was, we bought two tickets. He had made phone calls that seemed to check seat availability, and produced a seating plan to show us the seats that would be ours. He wrote our ticket numbers on the seating plan, and when I asked him if that plan was for the Saturday, the day that we had requested, he said that it was. I pointed out that there was no date on it, but he assured us that it was the plan for the Saturday. The secretary, who was said not to speak English, wrote out our tickets and handed them to us. Keith paid, and then the man asked me how big our bags were. When I described them, he claimed that they would have to go under the bus, so they would have to be paid for. Only smaller bags were free and could go in the bus. Keith was absolutely wild and said that the man had tricked us into paying, thinking that the bags were free. I quoted the Lonely Planet Guide that says that bags are free. The man just said that big bags are not. At that point we should have asked for our money back and gone elsewhere, or at the very least said that we would pay when we brought the bags on the Saturday. It is easy to have sensible ideas when you are not being harassed and pressured, but we were at that point, and not feeling very happy, we paid the extra. The sales man walked us up to the area where our bus would leave from on Saturday and said that we would need to report in half an hour before departure time.
We were glad to be out of there, and heading towards the other end of town where the people took a polite ‘No thanks’ for what it was.
We purchased our plane tickets from Tanga to Pemba in a quiet office in a real room, where the sales woman used the computer to check ticket availability and printed out our tickets. Next we sampled the curry and rice in a more western style patisserie, although the Indian cooks seemed to have had quite an influence on the menu. It was a place where tourists used the free wireless internet if they had computers, or paid to use the shop one. A little boy was there with his parents, and we watched as he looked at all the post cards without touching any of them. He was very happy to look around everywhere while his mother used the internet, and finally sat down with his father to wait patiently.
We visited the Maasai Craft Market, which had no visitors but us. Lanes and lanes of tiny stalls waited for tourists, and since we were it, everyone wanted us to look in their shops. We became quite adept at making a ridiculously low offer in response to the ridiculously high initial price, and only entered into this game if we were sure that we would buy an item if it was at a reasonable price. The stall holders were all very polite and while they tried to interest us in items, and responded to our interests, they were not pushy. Once we had made our purchases, we were only about a quarter of the way around the market, and so we made a quick exit down a lane instead of threading our way through the whole lot. All these goodies would go back to Australia with Rosie.
The computer was ready when we called in and it now has its own keyboard operating again. It just had a dirty connection in a very easy spot for a technician to fix. I asked Baraka, the technician, if he knew anything about the scheme to have cheap wind-up laptop computers for third world schools, and he said that he hadn’t heard of them in Africa, only in South America. He believed that the scheme required the applicants to give evidence that the school existed, and that there would be ongoing technical backup for the computers. It doesn’t sound possible for Farkwa right now but it is definitely worth more investigation.
I finally found a beautiful piece of material for Kathryn, and having looked at lots at the market and not liked them as much, I went back to buy it. Of course its price had gone up, but it came down again when Keith suggested that I tell them the price I had been offered earlier. We are learning.
A stroll through the cemetery showed us that, although in their own sections, Muslim and Christian graves are in together. A much needed working bee had been taking place in the Muslim section and the Christians really needed to have one too.
There were tall trees, creepers and shrubs, and lots of grass and rampant ground covers. It was also the meeting place for dogs.The power was off again, but at least after dinner Keith could use the computer on the battery for a while. Unfortunately the CD burning program had not bee reinstalled and so that would mean downloading one from the internet. I wrote some notes up in my book, as a good old fashioned back up. We chatted to Rosie, Ticha, the children and Rosie and Ticha’s friends,Martin and Godi, with the candle lit passage acting as our lounge room for socialising.
Coca Cola is big in Tanzania. This is one of many such kiosks in public places and in many cafes the choice of cold drinks is between Coke and Pepsi.
Market wheelbarrows
Dalla dallas are a great form of public transport. They are cheap, frequent to many places and they are flixible in where they will pick up and drop off passengers. The down side is that they are often overcro
Infrastructure is in very poor condition all over Tanzania.
This large house is strangely out of place in the same street as our guest house. Most of the decorative features seen from the front are actually the security bars.
Anyone for a haircut?
The clock tower in Arusha - look carefully at the face to see that it is sponsored by Coca Cola
No comments:
Post a Comment