It has been eight years since I’ve been here – here is Iringa town, Iringa Region, Tanzania. Suffice to say much can change in eight years but things also stay the same too. For example, eight years ago I was still trying to finish my PhD and I had *only* left my husband behind while now I have not only finished my PhD but have a tenure track position at an incredible institution. My husband is the same but the arrival of my kid five and a half years ago has made me a mom. The last time I came as a student, this time I have brought along my own student to mentor (Editor: you’ll hear from Dr. Biittner’s student in a future blog post).
Upon arriving in Dar es Salaam – the City of Peace, or just simply “Dar”, after three long flights (Edmonton to Toronto, Toronto to Zurich, Zurich to Dar via Nairobi), I was happy to see the airport was pretty much the same. The line to get visas stretched long but we could bypass it having already secured our visas from the embassy in Ottawa. The lines through passport control were short but progress through them was slower than I expected as it was here I had my first sign of real change – finger print scanning technology wasn’t used the last time I passed through. The air outside the airport smelled and felt the same – different from Edmonton but still home.
I was travelling with my student Keyna and a PhD student from the University of Alberta, Jeff, who is part of our research team. We arrived at night so we did not see much of Dar as we made our way pole pole (slowly) to our hotel. It was a familiar drive as traffic was heavy (yes even at 11 pm at night) and vendors and piki piki (motorcycles) wove through the cars and dala dalas (city buses).
We checked into the Heritage Motel – a new place for me as the hotel we’d stayed in previously was unsafe to stay in any more – and the familiar greetings slowly crept back in. Hujambo (Hello). Sijambo (Hello). Karibuni (You are welcome). Asante sana (Thank you). Habari za usiku? (How is your night?) Mzuri sana (Very fine/well). Pole za safari (Sorry for your trip). Asante sana (Thank you very much). My swahili is not very good but greetings are well rehearsed and practiced.
Our rooms were clean and comfortable. I remembered that first night to let Keyna know about the call to prayer so it wouldn’t surprise her. Hearing it again first thing in the morning – as the sun rose – only reinforced my feelings of being back home. Breakfast at the hotel (included!) would trigger my other senses – delicious smells and tastes of chapati, plantains, papaya, watermelon, pineapple, donut-like pastries, and chai.
My place memory kicked in as we walked around Dar to recover from jet lag our first full day. We bought SIM cards to be able to stay in touch (though it looks like most hotels have wifi – another new change). I was able to remember the way to the kanga market at Uhuru Street, to the City Center market, and then to the National Museum. We walked every where – so I could remember again and so Keyna could experience Dar for the first time. We got caught in the rain and that was ok too. We bought snacks at the supermarket – loading up on goodies from the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and South Africa. We stayed up late to try to get on local time but hit our beds hard as we’d successfully tired ourselves out.
The second day in Dar we connected with my dear friend Dr. Pastory Bushozi. It had been eight years since I’d seen him in person and I was so happy to give him a hug and share news of our families. Bushozi introduced us to our driver Nico (we’d arranged transportation through Bushozi), and then he was off to do other work – as the head of his unit at the University of Dar es Salaam and a collaborator on several international projects, Bushozi is incredibly busy but he promised to join us in the field shortly. Nico took us to a famous tourist shopping spot – the Slipway – to try to stay busy in the most relaxing way possible as we’d be heading to Iringa in the morning.
In the past we would drive straight through to Iringa but the drive often extended to eleven hours or more and for safety sake we’d decided to stop over night in Morogoro. I was surprised at what a busy city it is; we’d only passed through before so I hadn’t realized its extent. We had a pleasant night (even without water and power for most of the evening – definitely a familiar experience in Tanzania!) at a small hotel run by the most pleasant woman (we’ll definitely stay with her again on the way back).
To get to Iringa we have to drive through Mikumi National Park – my favourite part of the drive. We were treated to seeing giraffes, baboons, warthogs, zebras, wildebeest, and so so many antelopes; they were grazing on the fresh shoots of grass growing out of the recently burned landscape (note: this is prescribed burning done to address wildfires; it ensures the burn is controlled versus wild, protecting the park, people, and animals).
Following Mikumi we begin the long slow grind up into the mountains. As much as I love the animals of Mikumi, I really start to feel at home once we begin our ascent. Iringa is in the Southern Highlands of Tanzania and it is truly beautiful. Baboons frequently line the road way and it is not surprising to find men roasting full cobs of corn at small turn offs along the highway. The stands in villages sell onions, tomatoes, and green peppers but the bucket full. One valley is full of baobab trees, which are beautiful and haunting – I love them so much they are on my list of tattoos to get. The air is cooler and drier here too – much cooler than the high temperatures, high humidity of the coast.
Finally we reach the turn off to Iringa town – the highway splits with one way heading further south to Mbeya (and eventually the southern most extent of the East African Rift Valley) while the other way heads up to a flattened playa of sorts upon which sits Iringa town. The number of piki piki and boda bodas (passenger trikes) surprised me as a new development as did some of the new buildings but mostly Iringa town was the same. I was able to direct our driver to my home away from home – the Isimila Hotel. We’d been booked into the newly upgraded rooms (including a larger bed and bed nets, hot water on demand, a mini fridge, and a tv!!!). I couldn’t believe that we would even have free wifi during our stay; in 2006 we relied on internet cafes while in 2008 and 2010 we had internet sticks and plans we could purchase for our laptops.
Home and yet not-home. Same and different. It feels good to be back. Karibu sana.