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africanpete-blog · 7 years

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Part one

African Blog

14. Aug 2016.

I’m here at last in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. One life has ended, and at the grand old age of fifty eight, another is about to begin. The journey from London was long and tedious. I endured two long sleepless flights, baffled along the way by the regular dumping of a mass of plastic packages of horrible airplane food. Dar airport was complete third world chaos and old Pete began to get irritated by the lack of any logical border control, the long queues and bizarre antiquated administration, with officials taking passports away and using old typewriters to copy out information from them. Then it dawned on me that this is how it’s going to be and in the end I chilled and waited like everyone else. New Pete is learning fast to be a great deal more patient and tolerant..

The minibus ride through this third world city was shocking and thrilling at the same time. It made me think - “Oh gawd, what have I done!” - It’s all so very very different to anything I’ve experienced before - live goats tied to the back of motorbikes, tribesmen in bright robes and spears waiting at the side of the road for the bus, ancient bicycles ridden by madmen through chaotic traffic, naked kids crouching in the dust beside crumbling half-built office blocks. It’s a very poor country and many of the people I saw on the street looked like they owned only what they carried around them. This is quite a drastic change from Tring, Hertfordshire.

The hotel is on the coast and my room overlooks the Indian ocean. There was a band playing on the beach on the first night. They were good. I even enjoyed their rendition of Lionel Richie’s ‘Hello.’ I walked along sandy beaches after breakfast the following morning and then found a quiet room, (reserved ‘for our venerable guests’ ) to try to connect my new laptop to the thinnest of wifi.

Today I had hoped to buy a cheap local phone today but the shop had run out of sim cards. It will take a while to get used to things not working or not happening immediately.

This evening I waited an hour at the hotel restaurant for the food to arrive. African time. In South Africa, hotels would be run by whites so you wouldn’t have to wait long, but then you’d have to suffer the whites being arrogant bullies to the black South Africans all the time. I think I'd prefer to wait.

I visited the school today. The roads leading to it were so unbelievably rough we were tipped out of our seats in the minibus. The junction leading to it is a comical chaos, with lorries, cars, and bikes weaving through each other recklessly at dangerously high speeds.

The school however is lovely, brand spanking new, well designed, with modern classrooms and grassy lawns and palm trees between the buildings. The teachers, all much younger than me, are very pleasant. I feel old. The music room has just one grotty piano, five keyboards, a plastic box of plastic recorders and a few battered bongos. A room has been earmarked as a possible drama studio but it doesn't look like it will be ready soon. I looked around the school grounds, and saw the swimming pool and watched two Tanzanian women digging trenches in the tennis court with huge pneumatic drills in the heat of the midday sun.

Back at the hotel this evening I watched a group of very rough looking Russian gangsters get pissed on vodka on the restaurant terrace, while a beautiful but bored young black women, a prostitute I guess, sat with them looking very bored and unhappy. I must have been watching too attentively because the boss of the group clocked me and started shouting something, before leaving with the young woman. I came back to my hotel room expecting to find a horse’s head in my bed, but I didn’t so I think I’ve got away with it this time.

Goat was on the menu tonight, but I resisted it. I need to pace myself. No need to try everything at once. I paid nearly 39,000 shillings for a meal the hotel restaurant, which included two glasses of local wine (not bad) and a very lovely coffee. I think 10,000 shillings is about £3.

It’s winter time here but today was still hot. I cannot imagine how it will be in a month or so when summer kicks in. I saw a mosquito in the men’s toilet this afternoon so I oulled out a gadget I'd bought in the UK. It's a small battery operated sonic device, which emits the sound of the female mosquito mating call. I held it out to the whining mozzie to test if it actually worked, and sure enough it did. The mozzie immediately flew away into the cubicle and hid behind the toilet bowl. So it seems that as long as I keep it on me, I'm protected. What a relief.

It is indeed a wondrous thing to arrive in a completely different world. It will take time to get used to it. I’ve not ventured far from the hotel yet, but plan a trip in the next few days to the city centre and where the port is. There are also plans to visit a local island later in the week (which I can see from my hotel window) for some snorkelling. I imagine that might be fun. I’ve not snorkelled since I was eleven. Eastbourne if I remember. I am hoping the fish here will be a bit more exotic.

A morning at the school, sorting out my classroom. I can’t believe I am doing this. Noticeboards and wipe-board markers, stationary and timetables and staff-meetings….

My colleagues and I lunched at some leafy cafe hut up a dirt track somewhere and waited and hour and a half for what ended up being rather unappetising club sandwiches. While I was waiting I stepped out onto the mud track street for a cigarette, and a monkey appeared. It approached, ambling down the track towards me. I backed off and watched it leap up onto a wall and disappear. It was white, with a long stiff black tail, and quite a thrill to see. Smokers get to see stuff like that…

I looked at apartments this afternoon. I think I have found a good one near the school. It’s brand new, with views of the ocean from the balcony and there’s another teacher form the school living next door. As we pulled in, a strikingly handsome young African Maasai warrior, dressed in elegant sandals, long red robe and a round scar on his cheek stood watching.

The landlord, a cocky dutchman, chatted about the pace of life inTanzania. He said the west have clocks but in Africa they have time. How true. Here even the most simple task, can become very complicated and everything takes longer than you think it will. No one however seems to mind much. I met more staff this evening back at the hotel, all very young and pleasant.

20 Aug 2016

Today I decided to have an adventure. I took a bajaj (which is a sort of enclosed three wheeled scooter with a two seat bench at the back) and then a daladala (a small battered white bus) into the city centre. The daladala is not used by westerners but I decided I wanted to rub shoulders with my fellow brother and sister and climbed aboard. I certainly rubbed shoulders with them. It was ten times more tightly packed than the Piccadilly line in rush hour. I’ve never been so squeezed in my life.

Westerners and ex-pats tend to congregate around the peninsula, where the big hotels, European restaurants and bijoux shops are located, but they rarely venture into the city centre and I can understand why. Dar city centre boasts very few tourist attractions, and instead it throbs with huge street markets and narrow passageways of shops and stalls, filled with cheap Chinese goods. Not a Starbucks or a MacDonalds in sight. A welcome relief.

I strolled around for three of four hours, edging gingerly through hoards of people and traffic, and saw only a couple of westerners, looking like me - way out of their comfort zone. I visited the port and the fish market, which were chaotic and rough and fascinating, but the locals looked at me with a ‘what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here?’ look. Fending off the beggars and tricksters was difficult. One young black guy approached, asking me where I was from and as I tried to gently edge away he said - ‘Hey, don’t worry, I’m not a thief. I lived in Liverpool!’ The central market was a real eye-opener, pure and uncompromising Africa, no Irish bars, no place to buy cappuccino or yesterday’s Guardian - no space or time for western luxuries or sensibilities. I got a bit nervous at the end because another wide boy got chatting to me and showed me round a bit and then told me he’d get me a cheap bajaj for the journey home. I had no idea where I was. He found a bajaj, chatted in Swahili to the driver and the next minute he got in beside me and we took off through the crowded streets. The driver, a mere teenager, began to drive very fast and very dangerously. I had no idea where they were taking me. After a few minutes my nerves were shattered, so I demanded that they stop, and quickly made my exit, choosing to take a cab back instead. I was probably being neurotic.

On the way back the taxi driver had the radio on. At the end of what I assumed was the news (my Swahili isn’t quite perfect yet) I heard the reporter talking about ‘Mourinho’ ‘Manchester United’ ‘West Bromwich Albion.’ The ubiquitous bloody English Premier Bloody football. It’s everywhere. I see matches on huge screens in most of the bars. Is there no place on earth I can go to escape it?

Now I am safe back at the hotel, but I notice that I’ve been bitten. Either I’ve come across a deaf mosquito, or my sonic device is actually crap.

25th August…

Almost through with the second week. I’ve been anxious about not being able to move into the apartment in time but I’ve just found out I can move in on Sunday and I won’t have to find another hotel, so now I’m ok again. I’ve also sorted out internet there too. Bit by bit. Step by step, and trying to operate in a non-negative, non catastrophising sort of way… Still got bank accounts to organise, and well, maybe a bicycle. Or a motorbike.

School… well, yes there are still ‘what-the-fuck!’ thoughts that come into my mind. Staff meetings, and teachertalk… I am already starting to hanker after some dry wit and irreverence. The teachers are very nice. There is a good mix of western - mostly Brits and Tanzanian. I think I’m the oldest, older than the head-teacher.

My flight case of musical instruments may not arrive until christmas.... Here, nothing arrives on time. Food ordered in restaurants often takes an hour and a half to appear. Everything takes so much longer than you think. African time. My landlord, a Dutchman, says in the West they have the clocks and in Tanzania they have the time. I think this is true. I’ve also discovered that in Tanzania the clocks are in reverse, so one o’clock is seven o’clock and three o’clock is nine o’clock. Very odd but strangely logical. I’m guessing that because the day starts at 6am when the sun rises - why shouldn’t it be the start of the clock too?

28th August

I’ve just moved into my apartment - after spending two weeks in the Giraffe Ocean View Hotel. The hotel was fine - right on the beach an all, but I'd eaten my way through the restaurant menu and was becoming a bit institutionalised. It’s really good now to be in my own place. Tanzanian food is ok. The fish is usually good, but the rest is mostly meat (usually overcooked and salty) and a lot of mysterious spicy things. I'm trying to be a vegeratian. My stomach has been used to a mediterannean diet - olive oil, red wine, garlic, more red wine, so it's complaining a bit about what it's having to digest. My apartment is on the 4th floor, spanking new and with very modern fittings and fixtures, and with a balcony view of the ocean.

The apartment block seems to be guarded by various characters including a young Maasai warrior, dressed in a dark red gown, with strange tribal bobbles on his leather flip flops and a round scar on his cheek. He usually carries a long stick too. After the landlord left, I found I didn’t understand how to get the plug from the plug hole in the bathroom sink. Masai warrior man was keen to help and he showed me how you do it. You just push the plug down and it pops up… So there you are. What the Maasai tribesmen around here don’t know about modern bathroom fittings isn’t worth knowing. I’ve just been to the local shop and managed to find olive oil, local garlic, excellent tomatoes and even mayonnaise, so I’m sorted for the moment. The apartment is close to the school, which is nicely manageable. There deosn't seem to be a street name, or apartment block address. Very few houses have numbers or street names. I guess there's no need.There are no postmen because there's no post. If anyone wants to come and find me I’m in the Kinondoni district, near the Africana roundabout, that’s it.

I want to get a bike here but everyone tells me I'm nuts to even think of it. The main roads are virtually lawless and frenetic and the smaller roads are just pot-holed and uneven dirt tracks. People usually travel on a bajaj, (which are those tiny three wheeled covered scooters with a two seat bench at the back) driven by youths, and you have to haggle with the price every time which I don’t like because I’m hopeless at haggling. I’ve tried many times. I can look them straight in the eye and tell them what I’ve been told is a reasonable price, but most will knock me upwards pretty easily and in the end I cave in.

There's a junction near the school - which is effectively a mud track crossing a motorway, with no traffic lights or lighting, no right of way, just everyone charging towards each other in the hope that everyone else swerves out of their way in time. Utter chaos. Almost everyone has to negotiate it to get to the school, and I shit myself every time we cross it. At night it's even more crazy. Once you’ve survived that you have to drive up another incredibly pot-holed and uneven track to get to the school. All around are goats and cows wandering aimlessly among the shacks.. If I do get a bike, then ten years of cycling through London will have prepared me well for this.

Term starts on Monday. I met the new students on Friday and it's clear to me I've made of the mistake of thinking the they’d be older and more accomplished. But they're going to be really young - younger because of their innocence too, and most of them are African and so their English isn't great. Hey ho. May have to rework some lesson plans tonight. Mozart wrote a symphony aged six. Mustn’t forget that.

Once I have settled into teaching I shall be keen to do other things. I've met people who will introduce me to the sailing club, and others who will help me to get involved with local theatres and choirs. All in good time. There's not much to do in Dar except drink and eat in bars. The local drink is called ‘Konjagi’ which is a sort of cheap gin. It’s fine when you mix it with something. When the waiters bring the bottle they lay it down flat on the table, apparently as a mark of respect for the drink. I was of course a little disrespectful the first time I came across it and paid a heavy hangover...

I miss mates, English cynicism and the wit of other mature cynics like me. It will take time to adjust...

A couple of the new teachers are crapping it about malaria, but the dangers are probably overstated. I was told recently that only one in a hundred mosquitos carry the disease. Quite a few of the other teachers have had it. Everyone has their particular theories about how to avoid it. I carry my little sonic device about with me all the time, even though I'm not absolutely convinced it keeps the blood-thirsty mozzie bitches away. But I've still only been bitten twice, by the only two deaf mozzies in Dar. I'm also sleeping under a net at nights, spraying my bedroom every few days, and rubbing anti mozzie cream on exposed flesh every morning. And I am taking vitamin B every day and drinking gin and bloody tonic at night because of the quinine in the tonic. Not sure how much all that helps. I read an article yesterday which said malaria carrying mozzies don't like the smell of chickens, so maybe I get a chicken in the flat. There are a lot of chickens around here so I may be ok.

I came across this quote the other day...

"I believe there is no sickness of the heart too great it can not be cured by a dose of Africa. Families must go there to learn why they belong together on this earth, adolescents to discover humility, honeymooners to seal marriage with a shared sense of bafflement, those shopworn with life to find a tonic for futility, the aged to recognise a symmetry to twilight. I know this all sounds a bit much, but if i have ever seen magic, it has been in Africa" - John Hemingway, African Journeys

It feels like it might be true. Hope so. We shall see.

1st September.

My first week of teaching is almost over and I seem to be smiling still. The start of the week was a little tough as my stomach, unsettled already by the unfamiliar diet, finally decided to react violently and I was pretty sick. I couldn’t sleep for a few days either so the first couple of days were tough. I stayed awake, listening to the sounds of my neighbourhood, weird bird calls through the night, a call to prayer at five am and then a chorus of cockerels. But it’s settled a bit now and thanks to some herbal sleeping tablets I’ve found at the bottom of a bag, I’m getting some reasonable sleep.

I’m beginning to settle to a routine. I stand on my balcony at six fifteen am with my morning coffee and cigarette and gaze out at the Indian ocean to watch the ancient brown sailing boats (dhows) coming back to port from their night fishing. The ride to school is still a pretty wild experience and if I’m not fully awake before I get into the bajaj, I’m shaken up and alert by the time it reaches school.

The children are great. Two days ago I was sitting at the piano and a class of nine year olds was standing around me, singing along with such joy and fervour, I was deeply moved, and I realised that everything was going to be all right.

I am missing London friends a great deal. It’s a huge sacrifice I guess for the journey I’m taking. Every day I realise what a mind-fuck all this is. The country is uncompromising for lilly-livered westerners like me and every day I see something drops my jaw in an instant. I went on my balcony this afternoon and saw the largest black beelike waspy creature I’ve ever seen. We clocked each other. I left him there. I wasn’t going to cramp his personal space. No worries. I’ll go onto my balcony another time. On the way back to the apartment I watched a guy walking along the side of the road with a thick double mattress balanced on his head. Wow. The times I’ve tried lugging those things up and down stairs by myself. Very hard things to move about. But this chap wore it like a hat and did not seem to be struggling. And then this evening I discovered what I thought was a tiny lizard in my bedroom. I remember from my childhood in France, how quick they are and hard to catch. (My father used to promise my brother and I huge rewards if we could catch one, knowing his money would be safe and we’d be kept amused for hours). My neighbour has since informed me that its a gecko and they’re harmless and I should let him stay because he will eat any mosquitos in the flat. Every day here brims with new challenges… I’ve tried to catch him, but he’s quick. Wish me luck with my new bedroom companion. I think I will call him, Francois.

11th September

Cycling in Dar

After much deliberation I have finally bought a bike. Many advised me not to be so foolish. The roads in Dar are generally terrible and the driving is equally bad. There seem to be very few rules, and even those appear to be broken constantly. Drivers pull out in front of other drivers, and neither seems to mind a jot. There is a road we take to get to school, wide enough for two lanes of traffic, one going one way and one going the other. However in rush hour, drivers use both lanes to drive and to queue up in the same direction, so the bajaj driver has to ease his way past in the narrow gap between the approaching cars and the deep ditch at the side of the road. It’s both baffling and dangerous. Someone needs to paint a white line or two along the middle of the road, but I fear it probably won’t make a bit of difference.

Despite the fears of friends, I have gone ahead. I’ve cycled all my life, and I love it. For years I have cycled through the busy streets of London and survived. I’m not afraid. In London, cyclists break the rules all the time, overtaking on the inside, going through red lights, so cycling in Dar isn’t going to be a huge difference.

A bike I have decided will give me the freedom to roam wherever I want, to explore the city at a leisurely pace, and to see things I’d miss in a car, or bajaj. A bike will also mean I’ll be less reliant on the bajaj. Don’t get me wrong, they’re fun to ride in, but it’s the haggling bit I find difficult. As a lilly-livered English Southerner, I am hopeless at haggling.

(I remember buying my first car, in Hull many years ago. It was a Mark 1 Ford Escort and the owner wanted £230 for it. I had no idea it was a rusty heap of shit and after a cursory look round, not knowing the first thing about cars, I agreed to pay him £230. He looked at me strangely, thought about it for a moment and then said ‘Listen mate - just give me £150.’ That’s how bad I am…)

So yesterday I found a shack at the side of the road which sold second hand bikes and after trying out half a dozen, I settled on a red mountain bike. I survived a bit of minor haggling and paid 200,000 shillings which is about £60, probably way over what I should have paid. I can imagine the guys in the shop giggling with delight as I climbed upon it and disappeared up the dusty road. I rode all the way back to the apartment, a journey of about five miles, and despite the heat it felt good.

Today I cycled to the the local supermarket and bought my weekly supplies and having dropped them off at the apartment, I took off on it again to cycle back towards the city centre, in search of a bicycle bell. There’s no doubt about it, the roads are terrible. I was constantly trying to avoid the pot-holes and the broken glass. Cars and lorries approaching from behind tend to honk their horns, not aggressively, but to indicate that they’re behind you. They drive very close, and several times I was driven off the tar mac and onto the rough muddy track alongside. Several motorists pulled out in front of me, giving me curious smiles as they passed in front. Heads turned. People grinned. Not many white men on bikes in Dar. I don’t mind that too much. Fuck em.

I haven’t bought a cycle helmet. I’m probably a fool but I tend to think bike helmets are like life jackets in planes. When push comes to shove, one is about as useless as the other…

I cycled for miles. I passed other cyclists on ancient rusty bikes, carrying huge piles of bananas, crates of coconuts, trays of eggs. I saw my first two baobab trees, which was both thrilling and moving for me. Le Petit Prince is responsible for that. At a huge junction I veered into the middle of the road in order to turn right, and gallantly held out my right arm. Judging by the looks of approaching drivers and motorcyclists, I think I was the first cyclist ever to do that in Dar. Maybe it will catch on. I got back to the apartment, safe, exhilarated and covered in dust and sweat. I shall definitely be going out on another two wheeled adventure tomorrow.

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georginamarsdenfmp · 7 years

Photo

When looking for locations I straight away thought about the field, which is a five-minute, walk from my house. It’s very accessible and easy to get to, as it’s not far this means I won't waste anytime having to get to it. I decided to go to the field to check it out and make sure that it’s appropriate. When I went there were buttercups and dandelions covering the grass, which made the field, look summery. There are also trees and benches, which can be used to make the shots look more interesting. However, I know that this field often has cows on the field. So me and my cameraman need to organise our time and make sure that we go on a day where there isn't any cows as this can be distracting and would look odd on my video. I would have to watch out for any mud and cow faeces on the ground as this could ruin an outfit. I also know that a lot of people on their own or with dogs go for walks there. We would need to pick a day and time that wouldn't be so busy as someone walking in the background could ruin a shot. Apart from these small issues, I think this location is perfect for my video. It’s very convenient and on a sunny day the field would fit my videos theme and style perfectly and will compliment the outfits.

I also thought of another interesting location, which is an old telephone box in a village called Oulton, which is about a thirty-minute walk. I felt like this could be interesting when it’s sunny as the box will be a nice bright red on the video. I could also scenes of me in the box on the phone. So I decided to go and check it out. Unfortunately when I went I realised that it doesn’t have a phone in it anymore, instead there is information about the village. I think it would look strange there were shots of me in the telephone box with information on the walls of it behind me. It would still look nice to stand next to in an outfit but it’s quite a far walk for one shot. I will still consider this location if something goes wrong with another option and I need a backup location.

For one my ideas for locations I chose the tennis club courts in Stone. I felt like this would be an interesting location paired with sunny weather, as the light will reflect the blue of the courts. The brightness of the location can be related to summer and also having fun. So I rang up the club and told them what I was doing for my project. I asked if I could use their courts as my location and asked for their permission. They agreed and said the best time to film would be in the weekday as it’ll be very quiet. I was really happy about this as court at night will be busy and I didn't want any nighttime shots in my video. I will go to the courts next week to film shots for my lookbook. I will credit the company at the end of the video.

Another location I am considering is the park near to my house. This park has lots of nature such as grass and many types of flowers. It also has a bowels field, tennis courts, birds in cages and a play area. I think this location will be good because there are lots of places to walk around and film. Such as, the different types of flowers arranged nicely could make for some good shots. Also areas such as the birdcages and the play area could show the fun sides to the videos theme and links to my playful clothing style. The tennis courts could also be used as a backup plan if the tennis club location doesn’t work out. A problem with this location however, if that there is often a lot of parents with small children there. There are often people there at anytime of the day, any day of the week so it will be quite hard to go there when it’s quiet and empty. Also filming around a park can be quite evasive and strange to parents.

I have another idea for a location, which is near my house. This is past the field location, which I’m considering in woods. So it is surrounded by nature, which will fit my lookbooks theme. A lot of nice shots could happen here such as, the sunlight through the tree branches, flowers and walking around paths. As this place is easily accessible, it relates to my theme and is free. I think this location is good as there are lots of different shots that could be taken here. I would have to be careful when walking, as there are lots of uneven paths and slippy surfaces. I would also have to avoid people walking with their dogs as they are often there and they could ruin the shot. Apart from these small problems I would really like to use this location.

Finally, my last location that I am considering is the canal in Stone. This is about a thirteen-minute walk from my house so it’s very easy to get to and not far away. I think there could be some interesting shots here such as, of the water and by it. I think this would create a range of different shots so they wouldn't all be nature but also shots of water away. There are also locks and bridges along the canal, which could be interesting to pose on. The canal barges could create nice shots as they have a lot of bright colours and details on them. I will consider this location and use it if I have time as I already have quite a lot of locations to use.

#production

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