What does $9,138 get you?

Well, last week I would have said a wonderful, recycled 1991 Suzuki Escudo. This week? Yet another colorful adventure to add to the blog.

I left Arusha on Sunday headed south for Lushoto, a small, mountain village, for a week of intensive language study. By car, it’s about 250km away from Arusha; an estimated 5-6 hour drive. As this is quite a long and expensive trip for most Tanzanians, I had agreed to give one of the men from Imara, Paulo, a ride to Lushoto.

We set off in my newly purchased Suzuki Escudo. About 2 hours into the drive, I heard an odd knocking. Within 10 seconds, the following happened: the knocking got very loud, the temperature gauge flew into the red zone, smoke engulfed my hood and power was lost. I pulled over. Paulo immediately told me to turn the car off. I distinctly remember hearing the words: Hakuna shida (no problem!).

Fields of maize on one side, a few small buildings on the other, and my EXTENSIVE knowledge of car mechanics and Swahili led me to conclude: Houston, we have a problem. Within two minutes, a crew of locals had appeared (think Field of Dreams, “if you break down, they will come.”) One of them, being a fundi in mechanics (a “supposed” expert in a field), began to pour water into the engine…

Two hours later, the engine still would not start. We decided that the best course of action would be to flag down a passing bus and make our way to Lushoto and leave the car at a local gas station to be picked up. So, with my stylish new skirt on, I got behind the car with my new friends and we pushed while Paulo steered the car the 1/3 mile to the gas station.We are told at the gas station that the next bus is due to arrive in about 20 minutes. Sure enough, the bus pulls in and the next leg of my adventure begins.

Before I get into the rest of the story, let me explain a few things about African culture that I learned that day which are KEY to this story:
1. If you give someone a ride somewhere, anywhere, YOU are expected to pick up the tab for his food on the journey, as well as his return trip transportation fee and the food for that trip as well.
2. Should some mishap occur along the way ( perhaps, say, a car breaks down) you are then further expected to pick up all costs, including lodging, as well as add on transportation for both of you, even if you are doing him a favor and giving him the free ride. After all, you are MZUNGU so you have LOTS of MONEY.
3. If you are white, you WILL be taken advantage of. Expect to pay 2-3 times more than anyone else.

So, we board the bus. The usual fee from Arusha to Lushoto on the bus is TZS 12,000 per person. Since there are two of us, when the driver quoted TZS 22,000 I figured that wasn’t too bad, even though I had already driven for two hours. About 2 hours later, we arrive into a small, but somewhat busy town. I know that it is not Lushoto, but am hopeful that we are at Mombo, the last stop on the main road and the turn off to Lushoto. So far, not too bad. We have now been on the road for 6 hours and I figure I am only an hour or two away.

I am husked off the big bus onto a dala dala, with the surrounding crowd shouting “MZUNGU! MZUNGU!” while pointing at me. You would have thought they had never seen a white person before. For those of you unfamiliar with the term dala dala, a dala dala is a local taxi bus. Usually, there is seating for about 16 people but somehow about 30 are in the vehicle. People use the door to get in and out, as well as the windows. People are also seen hanging out of the dala dala as it drives down the road, weaving in and out of traffic. It is not uncommon to bring your goat, chicken, or other livestock on the dala dala with you. No, I haven’t asked, but I don’t think that the animal has to pay as well. The driver quotes us TZS 6,000 for two people. No worries, the locals pay TZ 300 so I have only paid 10 times as much. In what has become a common trend, I hand over the money.

As we drive along for the next 2 hours, I notice that 1) we are not gaining elevation and 2) we have not turned off the main road. After two hours, my little heart sinks when I see the sign that clearly says Mombo. It is now 9pm. My trip began at noon but fortunately, I am only about an hour away from Lushoto. We get off the dala dala and wait at the gas station for the next bus.

As we wait, a young man comes over and beings speaking with Paulo. He and Paulo talk for a couple of minutes. I notice that Paulo is no longer smiling. In fact, he does not look very encouraged as the conversation progresses. The other man pulls out a cell phone and about 2 minutes later, points to a cattle truck. What I learn is that the bus in not coming and that the cattle truck will transport us up the mountain for only TZ 11,000. What a deal! So, into the cattle truck we go, again, in my beautiful new skirt.

An hour later, we arrive into the village of Lushoto. I am to call Sabine when I arrive and she will give me directions. Whipping out my new cell phone (yes, I had to buy a new one because for some reason, mine does not work in Tanzania), I dial. No ring, no welcome tune, no nothing. Bateri kufa. Yes, gari kufa but now bateri kufa? In case you don’t speak Swahili, it means dead battery. Paulo doesn’t have a phone so now we need to find someone who will let me use his phone to get directions. For once, I did not have to pay for a service and we get directions.
Now, for the taxi. Yup, for just TZS 3,000 I can get a ride to her house. At this point, I don’t care how much, I just want to be there. In about 10 minutes, I am at the entrance to Sabine’s house and am receiving a warm welcome and greatly appreciated hug. I give Paulo TZS 50,000 to head on home and finally, FINALLY, I go to bed.

In all, to get to Lushoto, a local would have paid TZS 12,000. A mzungu will pay TZS 92,000. And don’t forget, I still have a car that is broken down in the middle of no-where and have to take the bus back to Arusha on Saturday.

Till nex time...