Monday, December 28, 2009

A Journey Through Tanzania and Zanzibar

by Ashlee Fritz
Our adventure started in Serenje, Zambia. The Serenje train station was exactly what you would expect of a train station in Zambia. There was one light bulb to light the entire station, four wooden benches, a flooded bathroom, and a lovely stench in the air and the train was three hours late. I was, to say the least, a little skeptical as to how the trip was going to turn out. The train arrived at 11pm and we climbed aboard. We boarded the train in the third class section and walked to our berth in the second to last car on the train. There were eighteen cars in all. We had a first class cabin and after seeing second and third class I was glad that we had “splurged” on first class. The train was probably built in the 1960’s and I do think there have been any changes since then. Actually, I am not sure that they had even done any maintenance either. In order to turn the lights on in our cabin to had to twist two naked wires together, when you did this sparks shot out at you. Also there were electrical outlets, reading lights and a fan, none of which worked. I was not sure what I had gotten myself into. I felt like fifty hours was going to be a long time to spend on this train. (Be sure to check out the link to the Flickr account for clearer pictures.)
I was totally wrong!! The train was amazing. We woke up the next morning just outside of Kasama, Zambia and at about noon and crossed the border into Tanzania. While waiting for the immigration officers to come through the train and stamp our passports Trevor thought it would be a good time to get out of the train and teach a few of the local children some yoga. It was quite a scene, but it was good entertainment while waiting. Trevor:
Tanzania is much more mountainous than Zambia. Not big mountains but big enough to give the train a good workout. Tanzania and Zambia seem to be just about the same, but there were subtle differences. The construction of houses was different in Tanzania. In Zambia the main form of home construction is mud brick, but in Tanzania it seemed as though most of the village houses were constructed using a wattle and daub technique. I do not know why the construction practice would be different, but it would be interesting to figure out.
By far the most exciting difference I noticed crossing over into Tanzania was the food. In Zambia you have your standard “window” food (this is the food you can buy out of the window of any form of transportation) peanuts (boiled and roasted,) fritters, roasted maize, hard boiled eggs and fried chicken. I personally will not eat the chicken, I think it is just asking for severe stomach problems to buy chicken from a women out the window of the train not know when or how the chicken died, how long ago it was cooked, and how long it has been sitting in a metal bowl on the side of the road/train tracks on a 100 degree day. It just seems like a bad idea to me, but of course Andy loves it. So far he has been lucky, but one of these days it will catch up with him, at least that is what I keep telling him. But once we crossed the boarder there was a whole new selection of food to choose from! Cashews, coconuts, chapati and plantain!!! Cashews!!! So good! You could get a small bag cashews for about 25 cents and a good size coconut for about ten cents. The only problem was trying to open a coconut on a moving train without hammer or at least a pointy rock. This was not problem for our porter, he just leaned out the window and bashed it against the side of the train. You could also buy food in the train dining car, but it was expensive and not as good as eating cashews. There was also a bar car where you could buy softies(soda), water, and, much to Andy and Trevor’s delight five types of beer. Warm beer on a hot train just is not my idea of a good time, so I stuck to warm Cokes.
The best part of the train ride though was the time we spent traveling through a national park. Out the train window we saw giraffes, elephants, puku, antelopes, wart hogs, monkeys and zebras. It was amazing. The only bad part of the game park was that the animals are attracted to the train tracks because of the trash that people through out the window. In our case an elephant was attracted to the track and our train hit it. There were many BIG bones scattered along the tracks so I have a feeling that this was not the first train casualty.
About 50 hours after boarding the train we arrived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Dar es Salaam is a city of about six million people, but you would have thought you were in a town of about 500 people by the size of the train station. We climbed off the train into the dark night and found a nice taxi driver Ali to drive us to our hotel. After about thirty minutes of trying to get out of the train station parking lot (for some reason the streets were in gridlock at nine o'clock at night) we headed out. It took us about fifteen minutes to get to our hotel from the station. During that time we say a man run up to the car ahead of us in traffic grab a cell phone that the driver was currently using and run off. What a first impression. We decided we did not need to spend any time in Dar es Salaam and that we would head to Zanzibar island as soon as possible.
After one of the worst nights of sleep of my life (Dar has to be one of the hottest places on the planet) we headed to the port and boarded a ferry to Zanzibar. It took about two hours to get to the island. Along the way we saw giant freight liners (Dar is one of the busiest ports in Africa,) dug out canoes and traditional sail boats called Dhow all sharing the same waters. It still amazes how you can see a hug modern freight liner and a hand built boat together, but that is life in Africa, villagers who have Internet phones but still carry water home from the river. It is crazy.
Zanzibar has a long and complicated history. It has been ruled by the Portuguese, the Sultan of Oman, and the British. It is now in a union with main land Tanzania, formerly known as Tanganyika, but if you ask a Zanzibari they will tell you that they are not part of Tanzania. It was an important trade port between all parts of the world for many products including ivory, spices and even slaves. The island has been influenced by many different cultures over the years and this can be easily seen through the architecture they have left behind.

The many influences could be seen from the moment we entered the port in Stonetown. It was beautiful. I could tell we had a lot of exploring to do. But that would have to wait a few days. First, the beach! After getting off the ferry we grabbed a taxi. We told him we wanted to go some where cheap and on the beach. He said he knew just the place and off we went. Any time you get into a taxi in Africa you are taking your life into your hands and this guy was no exception. I think he drove about 60 mph on tiny two lane roads, but we arrived at our destination safe and sound. We went to the village of Nungwi. We got a bungalow on the beach for fifteen dollars a night. And when I say it was on the beach, I mean it was literally on the beach. It was a two minute walk to be in the water. It was just what we needed. We spent three days doing absolutely nothing. The beach had lots of tourists, but also lots of locals. At about 10 am the fishermen would come in with their catch in tow. Fresh tuna, red snapper, lobsters, and octopus. The local women would gather seaweed at low tide and there were lots of children (naked children) playing in the water. On the last day we went snorkeling. We sailed out on a traditional Dhow for two hours to an atoll on the way we say a dolphin swimming just a short distance from the boat. The boat stopped and dropped us in the water. The water was crystal clear. Andy had the time of his life! He spotted every fish from Finding Nemo except Nemo. After snorkeling for a few hours we got back onto the boat and sailed about twenty minutes to another beach for lunch. Lunch was fresh caught tuna, mangoes, pineapple, bananas, chapati, and salad. So good! After lunch it was back on to the boat and back to out hotel. The whole day cost ten dollars. The ı next day we traveled back to Stonetown and checked into our hotel, the Zenji. After our welcome cappuccinos we head out to explore the town. Stonetown is a maze of narrow windy streets. We walked along the water front and into the maze. All along the streets were little shops and restaurants. We stopped to get some lunch and got grilled sandwiches and fresh squeezed juice. I had Bango juice, it was a sweet tangy juice that tasted unlike anything I had ever tasted. After a little more exploring we headed to Mercury’s. Mercury’s is a restaurant on the water front that is a monument to Freddie Mercury, For all of you who do not know who Freddie Mercury is he was the lead singer for Queen and he was born in Stonetown. While wondering the streets we were always on the look out for the birth place of Freddie, but we never found it. We did however find a house with a sign telling us that it was not the house of Freddie Mercury. The next day we went to the Sultans Palace Museum, museum I must is a term that is used very loosely in this this case. The museum was mostly a collection of the furniture the Sultan had owned over the years. The Sultan had quite eclectic taste the collection included everything from Ming vases to Formica furniture from the 1950’s. While touring the museum we noticed that an intricately carved desk that was at least two hundred years old was sitting in puddle of water. So our tour guide and Trevor jumped over the barrier that was separating us from the furniture and moved the desk. After a few more hours of exploring we headed back to the hotel and enjoyed the air conditioning.
The next morning we left the island and head back to the main land. Due to our past experience in Dar es Salem we decided to head straight to the airport instead of exploring the city. We arrived at the airport about seven hours early. When we tried to check in for our flight the told us we could not check in until two hours before our flight. Even though Dar es Salaam is the capital city with six million people there was no where to sit except the floor. So we sat on the floor of the airport for 5 hours. Two hours before our scheduled flight time we tried to check in again. They told us to wait we still could not check in. One hour before our flight we still had not checked in. Then finally about 45 minutes before our flight was supposed to leave and we where still trying to check in we were told that our flight had been canceled and rescheduled for the next day. This would not have been nearly as annoying if we had not talked to at least six different people trying to check in and we had sat in the airport for 6 hours. Needless to say we were a little bit testy. It took another hour for a representative of Malawi Air to arrive. When he did arrive he informed us that they would put us up in a hotel for the night. My expectations were not high for the quality of the hotel the would put us up in, but I was very wrong. The hotel was amazing! We had room service and cable TV. Sitting at the airport for for seven hours sucked,but the hotel made it totally worth it. The following morning we got up to travel home. When we arrived at the airport we actually checked in for our flight and boarded the plane. All seemed to be going well until we landed and a man on the plane whom we had befriended came over to our seats and told us that we had not landed in Lilongwe, Malawi (our destination.) We went to the stewardess and asked where we were. She informed us that we where in Blantyre, Malawi and apologized. She then told us to get off the plane. Not knowing what we were supposed to do next we got off the plane, went through customs and were ushered to a waiting room full of people. We were then instructed to get back on the plane, which we did. The plane took off and landed in the right destination. There was no explanation ever given as to why we had landed in Blantyre. We then took a taxi back to Chipata, Zambia and we where finally home sweet home.

The Bat Migration of 2009

by Andy Fritz
Every year in Zambia’s Central Province is the single largest mammal migration on the planet. Millions of bats (around ten million this year) congregate in the caves and trees at Zambia’s Kasanka national park. They stay there from early October to early January which is the first few months into the rainy season. Ashlee and I planned on going with a group of volunteers form our province, but were waylaid by the beginning of the rainy season. The first heavy rains blew out a window in our house and poured through our roof in buckets(literally). Since I had planned on seeing this phenomenon last year, Ashlee sent me on my merry way to see the bats with a few other volunteers while she stayed in Mansa with a few sick volunteers and to keep an eye on the temporary rain protection I had put in place.

Those of us going down were able to hitch a ride with the Peace Corps truck on its way to Lusaka. They dropped us at our campsite for the next few days with all our food, gear, and bicycles for both Grayson (our nearest volunteer neighbor in Mansa) and I. Over the next few days we saw the bats numerous times and amazing wildlife. We had a park guide walk us around some of the park and point out some things, including hippos. While we didn’t see other major game, their tracks were everywhere in the morning when we woke up. Elephants passed right by our site in the night and we were not even aware.

We huddled together many times to wait out what were incredible storms, but by the last day the sun was shining. Grayson and I woke up at 3 am packed our bikes and made our way to the Guides’ camp by four. Our guide from the day before said that Grayson and I were free to cycle the 25 kilometer (15 mile) out of the park without a guide. So that began our 285 kilometer ' (171 mile) bike ride back to Mansa. Unaccompanied for an hour of bush riding through a national park with lions, crocodiles, hippos, and lord knows what else.

By midday we had crossed into Luapula Province via the largest bridge in Southern Africa. We rode continuously taking short breaks in the shade until close to dusk. With no hope of making it to our nearest volunteers house we set up our tent in the back of a farmers cassava field hidden from from view, ate a pile of food, and passed out hard. We woke the next morning to find we were less than 100 kilometers (60 miles) from Mansa. After a brief stop for a rest at a new volunteers house we were back on the road and in Mansa before late afternoon. While the national park was a great time, the two days on bike was equally fantastic.