Ben Wilhelmi

2009, my best of in East Africa…

 

this selection is more a best of my good times or experiences that mattered this year and how I viewed them.

 

it was so good to fly again on a 3 day Flying Medical Service mobile clinic. Here, Ezra Jay, the other pilot giving an injection in Pininyi, western lake Natron, March 09. I was traveling light, only 2 cameras, film and digital.

 

and to fly from one remote village to the next, some areas of lake Natron, a salt lake, have to be flown over, for my greatest joy.

 

 

some portraits were unavoidable, here a young Maasai mother in Habere, Sonjo valley, west of Natron area. Normally shaved, a women with long hair means her baby is less than one year old.

 

 

digital age or not, I do my bits to help the film industry and second because I love films and I still have a lot to learn or practice with film cameras. Here, these 2 B/W shots with the Leica M.

 

this antique Tanzanian air force Mig 19 brought me a little fame amongst aviation enthusiasts. This set of pictures got me a lot of contacts, some publications, and some coverage on the internet, including some thefts.

 

Karine and I did a few trips around Arusha, in the bush. Here a kid running in the dust in Lengijave, north of Arusha.

 

the volcano Oldoinyo Lengai has been quiet this year but that doesn’t mean she didn’t look good.

 

even long boring flights can bring something, even if only a nice sunset.

 

I’ve resigned from a lousy punk company but the first months were decent enough, I got to fly to Uganda a few times and discover a new place, Lira.

 

no way to make a “best of” in Tanzania and not mention Kilimanjaro, here under a splendid sunset.

 

a few long weekends in the Tarangire were also on the program this year.

 

  

 

there were 4 days in Zanzibar this month.

 

and another 4 days in Lengai and lake Natron area. A remote area that is often described as extremely inhospitable, dry and hot. First time Karine went there. She discovered a few things like crossing a river fully dressed, climbing rocks…

the land Rover behaved without a single glitch nevertheless she is more than 20 years old. All those years on African bad roads, she used to belong to a safari company with many drivers. Which is the surest way to send a car quickly to the graveyard… Lengai in the background.

 

     

 

 

2009 was the year Mom offered me a superb Rolleiflex for my 40th birthday. Here on trial with model Karine. 4 years together in December by the way.

 

I didn’t even shoot this portrait in digital, just with the Rolleiflex.

 

a Rollei is a bit of a challenge with action pictures but great photography masters did it before me so I have no right to complain, right?

 

even on safari, you can survive without long bazooka lenses. Here again with the Rolleiflex and its standard lens.

here again, elephants are easy to approach anyway.

 

 

in Arusha, you don’t have to get far to get stunning vistas. Here mount Meru near the airfield.

 

I’ve spent many days in Nairobi. Quite interesting to be there too. Here is an Ethiopian men asking for his picture to be sent to him. No news from him, I hope he got them.

 

 

2009 but there are still things from the past everywhere in Africa. Here modernity, Coke, meets Middle Ages, wooden cartwheel with lousy brake system, Nairobi.

luckily I’m an avid amateur photographer amongst many things like reading, writing and drawing, so I usually find something to do, even in boring places. 2009 was quite a good year in all.

so I have resigned from this company. I don’t know what happened to their curry but suddenly things went really bad, the directors decided to slash my contract big time. “Take it or leave it” they said. I left. You can’t always have the cake, eat it and fuck the cake seller.

so what next in 2010? Some travels here and there. Hopefully a job in the Sudan in a few months. Otherwise more travels. I didn’t go to Belgium this year because of that job. This year I will compensate that fact.

 

happy new year to all.

inside a house in Stonetown

 

this is a neighbor house seen from the hotel restaurant. Slightly decayed.

 

laundry was changing everyday. Today was the jean’s day.

We were walking around with our old cameras when an enthusiast man came around and commented on them, mentioning black and white films. he seemed to remember some childhood memories. He didn’t bother us, just watched and waited patiently for us to finish our pictures before offering something. But instead of the usual crap, he invited us to see the house, the inside of the house. Which was a first for us. This kind of visit doesn’t seem to be proposed anywhere in tourism business. Except open doors showing nothing but darkness and trash, we had seen nothing so far. So we jumped on the opportunity.

 

 

this is the main entrance. Next building is our hotel from where we could see the other side.

 

we were surprised to learn that this house is supposedly on the World Heritage list. True or not the derelict state of the place doesn’t quite match that label. The guide smiled, talked about the government and showed money going in his pocket…

 

my previous readings about Tip was about slave trading and how a ruthless bastard he was. This notice seems quite politically correct, no way to defame one of the rare celebrities around. Zanzibari people were of course enjoying slave trade since they were spared. Slaves were black people, not Arabic, and coming from inland. One of the things that Africans seldom mention when they require apologies and cash back for slavery is that the colonials would have never managed the slave trade on such a grand scale without the help from local tribes. The enemy tribes were very helpful for selling prisoners and finding new enemies when business proved juicy and demand was high.

By the way the only real celebrity from Zanzibar is Freddie Mercury. And the island, or Africa in general, is so homophobic that the citizens mostly prefer to ignore him instead of making money on his fame, quite a feat!

 

Tip was a sultan as well, so his house, a palace by then, was the highest building around. The view is quite nice with a full panorama around on Stonetown roofs. Not worth the roofs of Paris of course but pleasant enough.

 

 

 

 

less attractive, the junk, clothes and other things, on the house roof.

 

the blue Indian Ocean.

 

confirmation of our suspicions, the inside of a local house is rarely attractive.

 

the top storey is potentially great though. Shady and cool with a great view, it could be a great living room with a minimum of tidiness and a few couches.

 

typical unfixed windows…

 

 

the stairs were a bit scary to climb on, not very straight, quite wobbly.

 

nowadays, other houses are higher than this one.

this house is still vast for modern standards but only one family lives in. Most rooms are left empty or littered with trash. Only one seemed to be used by the family, we were a bit surprised to see hardly no furniture in it except a big plasma TV. Nice priorities…

Stonetown, faces

 

 

old man sitting and just smiling.

 

 

kid dreaming.

 

at Jaws Corner, the opposition place.

 

 

 

 

unfinished funny hat.

 

 

 

I felt sorry for him, the heat is quite something on the island, and moist in this month.

 

 

 

another business that doesn’t seem to make the vendor rich.

street life in Stonetown

 

 

 

as said before, he is here and there but not that much represented. We used to see more of Stallone or Madonna some years back. Quite often I’m sad to see that the worst of our western culture seems to make an impression in 3rd world countries…

 

refurbishment highly needed. Stonetown seems to compete with Havana in term of decaying buildings.

 

some political statement.

 

bravely waiting for business.

 

 

already veiled little girl but allowed to carry a western decadent goodie. Weird but usual.

 

  

 

 

 

 

no clue what the owner had in his mind when he chose those names. The Burkina Faso capital might be his home town but “pitiful”??

Stonetown

 

 

tough business to live on a few cigarette packs. I need to precise that cigarette packs are seldom sold as such: due to usual economic constraints people here in Africa buy a cigarette or two at a time!

 

and it is probably not easier to live on some banana sale.

 

this vendor here seems more well off.

 

just outside a girl school at recess time.

 

lost Maasai in Stonetown.

 

charcoal being ferried on a bicycle.

 

 

 

happy little girl with a coconut to savor. Drink the juice first then eat the flesh.

 

local beauty

various scenes in Stonetown

 

a vendor patiently waiting in front of his “Maasai”paintings shop. This one was probably the only one who didn’t bother us with “welcome free look”, “goodi prici” etc. Maybe he remembered us as well.

 

considering this is a predominant Muslim island, this guy must be listed as the local Forrest Gump…

 

cab drivers waiting for a prey.

 

 

Ray Ban, Dior, Chanel…all for cheap prices. Cheap quality too. No police to clamp down on the fake goodies business here.

 

 

delicious coconut.

 

 

Karine making friends. The kid was a bit curious for the Polaroid pictures but not that impressed. She didn’t even ask to get her own copy.

 

most goodies from the Infidels are welcome.

 

the local Hell’s Angels.

 

 

fake Tintin stuff. There was “Tintin in Zanzibar” as well. Hergé’s style is pure and simple. Though hard work to create, Tintin is one of the easiest comics to copy, nevertheless the copies here are really crap, poorly copied. You have to look from close to see what I’m talking about.

 

Stonetown, veiled women but….

 

 

veiled but up to a point! Some seem to fight discreetly against the veil, against the pressure. The initial idea with the veil is to keep women modest, not to arouse the men’s lust, right? Well it looks like girls (and supporting boys) find some ways to stand up…you think veiled women are always dull and dressed in black?

 

 

 

personally I fail to understand why the hair must be covered if feet are to be exposed in nice open sandals with colored toe nails or henne painting all over. Surely it must arouse some guys over there. True, the hard core women wear gloves and socks. Glamour…

 

trendy glasses, fake or not, are very common, as modern bags.

 

 

why don little girls with flashy dresses if bare skin will be forbidden later on? It’s like taking a gift back…

 

 

probably one girl who’s part of the Zanzibar 2% non-Muslims.

 

 

eye brows are trimmed, not sure about make up though.

 

past a certain age, only colorful veils seem the norm.

 

ninja type but nails are done, eye shade is visible too, and a colorful veil with glitter.

 

make up, trimmed eyebrows. Striking face. I wonder how easy it is for the husband to keep males away of this girl… this girl (most likely a Tanzanian-Zanzibari) is a good example to show how the island has been a melting pot during the slavery times. Traders and other people came from Arabia, mainly Oman. Add a colonial touch and the gene pool is much more various than on the mainland.

 

the chick on the right has some throat exposed, isn’t that most exposing than hair?

 

another common scenery was to see couples like these, the guys fully dressed the western way but the women only half way there. Red trousers when modesty is supposedly the main virtue…? Maybe these couples fight a bit the traditional way up to a point, but the social pressure must still be strong. So step by step….

 

 

 

jean’s and veil but bandana or pirate style.

 

girls start to get veiled at an early age.

 

many styles in one shot.

 

this subject reminds me of 2 stories during previous trips in Zanzibar.

- I was flying out back to Arusha, only one passenger. That ninja woman had been escorted to the airport by 4 Bin Laden look alike guys. As soon as she boarded the plane, she removed the cloak and pronto, here was a really hot babe with a mini top, a piercing and all. She smiled when she noticed my surprise.

- Stonetown,I was standing on the hotel balcony at sunset, watching down the streets. I noticed another hot babe, short and tight clothes on, ready for party no doubt, coming down a dark alley. Just before engaging in the main lit street she donned her veil to look anonymous again.

 

these people must be sitting between 2 chairs: a lot of tourists visit the island and some think they are on a French beach…cultural shock is abysmal.

Stonetown, Ninjas and others

 

Ninja woman. I know this is not PC to say so but you know my views on the politically Correct concept…

 

I’m not sure what to think of this guy. A bit puzzling to say the least.

 

 

 

typical modified bike.

 

 

 

 

nice door with detail below.

 

 

 

Muslim culture but this pupil with his studied look and attitude could have been shot anywhere in the West.

Stonetown

 

cool old dudes…they seem to like their sunglasses around.

 

 

 

some streets in Stonetown look more recent. We’ve seen quite some houses being renovated this time.

 

lunch time.

 

 

 

Quran verses on this mosque wall.

 

 

 

the rains can be quite sudden and intense. The drainage system being probably antique, houses or shops in critical streets have been built a bit higher with steps to avoid the flashfloods coming inside.

Stonetown, Zanzibar.

 

old man with cool glasses.

 

 

doesn’t it look like an US flag?

 

I thought of a Cuban scene…

 

 

 

 

thinking she is huge?…

 

here she is, normal size. Just I was sitting low and kept on shooting while she walked closer. So with a 12mm lens (18 equivalent 24x36) the perspective changed dramatically as to make her look fat. So girls, always be nice with a photographer, you never know what he can do to you…

 

 

usually doors stay shut. And on the few occasions we’ve seen inside, it didn’t look very engaging, rather dark and unkempt, as opposed to this interior.

in a perfect world in Zanzibar…

 

I know this is not unique to Zanzibar but the armies of touts, hawkers, street vendors and other plague hovering like shit flies have the power to develop some killer instinct in me. You just can’t walk freely in those narrow medieval streets. Some streets are only a succession of little shops each vendor harasses the pedestrians, some even blocking the way. Welcome here, welcome there, have a free look, good price…then they can get “upset” and abusive because you ignore them. Poor little things, their feelings must have been hurt. Same mess from the taxi drivers and other hawkers on a spree. Even Maasai vendors, fake or not, are harassing people! Historically, they’ve got nothing to do in Zanzibar. You can’t always avoid these streets as there are sometimes located in interesting places. Hence the title “in a perfect world in Zanzibar, I’d be carrying a Kalashnikov” and take care of these assholes. Karine suggested just a perfect world without them would be enough. Nope, in my perfect world, I’d have the need to suppress the frustration built up during all my trips over the years in Stonetown. OK maybe a Tazer would do.

good news, the Forodhani gardens on the waterfront have been nicely refurbished, the street vendors (mostly Maasai as they were probably no rent) have been kicked out! The place is now very pleasant, only food and drinks are available. Happiness doesn’t require much something. Just a bit of pest control to start with…

But once you get away from that situation, the town is quite a dream for street photography…we were a bit of an attraction with our old cameras. The digital ones are very common nowadays but a Rolleiflex, a Mamyia 220, a Leica M or a Polaroid 600 SE…that’s another story. Old people would sometimes smile at us, like remembering an old family moment, or just the good old times when tourists hadn’t flocked on the island and photography was still a slow activity? One man proudly mentioned a town photographer who used such cameras. Younger people were more puzzled. It even made our task easier somehow, looking unusual, less threatening maybe.

 

some people must have a hard time to make ends meet. Just a tray to expose few goodies…

 

this guy doesn’t seem to care a lot about his clothes but he rolled up his jean’s, ready for the next shower.

 

a female beggar. Less annoying than the vendors, far from it though she couldn’t be blamed if…

 

door details.

 

kids are still usually happy to pose. Some run away, few ask for money.

 

light measurement in these narrow medieval streets can be a challenge for the camera light meter: bright light in contrast with dark zones.

 

quite central in Stonetown, this baobab, in full blossom.

 

one of the few large streets in the old town. Pepsi has some trucks too of course but for most of the streets, this contraption is the thing to use.

 

it was lunch time at a school.

 

obviously, the street became the refectory.

 

a few days in Zanzibar…

 

we came back yesterday from Zanzibar and lake Natron. We had only spent one short night in Arusha last week before heading to lake Natron and the volcano Oldoinyo Lengai area, by car this time. The Land Rover was happy to get dusted off.

off to Stonetown by plane, flown by Sarah. I was seated next to 2 stupid passengers: they couldn’t grasp the seat belts and didn’t quite believe she could be a pilot. And they were not moronic males! But females! If even women don’t trust each other…

 

thunderstorm over the island. Tanzania is facing a decent short rain season and so Zanzibar is hot and humid too with daily storms here and there offering dramatic skies and cleaning the streets.

 

reef between the main land and the island.

 

some islands near Stonetown.

 

here is Stonetown.

 

few streets are straight. No urban planning… it doesn’t mean slums though. It can be a bunch of decent houses like packed together by a drunkard.

 

a mosque. Zanzibar is 98% Muslim.

 

remember what I said in an old post about the narrow gaps between houses and walls? Whereas it makes sense here where space is limited, in Arusha…

 

we didn’t do much the first afternoon, some quick shopping, enjoying ice creams at an Italian gelati and bumming on the beach. The scenery was pleasant enough, even if it can be said it looked like a postcard cliché. Well cliché doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it anyway. Just a nice change.

 

 

lovers or soon-to-be. They didn’t touch each other very often. One occasional hand stroke though their feet were touching. The girl is dressed traditionally but the guy is not. That’s something that is very common and that bothers me a bit. Women bear the hot clothes and other constraints imposed by men. More examples in the next posts.

 

 

 

leaving Botswana to South Africa

 

in Gaborone, the capital, we had an address, friends’ friends who were teachers at an international school. Joanne being a teacher too, she made a show and tell. I stood as the assistant only, I felt like the hot chicks assisting a magician on stage….Every bit of gear was explained, the orange mattress as bed, the little spade for the loo or flattening ground for the tent, the stove, the water filter… The environmental message was stressed on, that we don’t need most of the junk we buy in our mass consumerism society.

 

we stopped in Lobatse, with other friends’ friends. We then decided that we had to make another detour, a big one this time. We were way too early in our schedule, though we hadn’t raced in any way. Crossing now the Karoo region/desert to cape Town would make us finish the trip in November 2002 or so, too early. We also had organised to meet a friend at a specific date as well. So I wanted to go via Namibia… and we went east towards Durban. Heat and deserts vs mountains…

 

South Africa is a country of frequent contrasts: medieval scenery like one vs modern villages or towns on a daily basis.

 

this highway didn’t look very engaging so we hitch hiked around Jo’burg on a pick up truck. We didn’t feel the need to see this city nor Pretoria. Durban and Cape Town would fit our city needs later on.

 

I felt sorry for the people living in these depressing settlements. Where is your privacy, your quality of life? At least it is a shelter, i agree but…

 

South Africans well most welcoming. We got invitations nearly everyday, like in this cute tree house.

 

more townships, equally depressing.

and I couldn’t blame this naughty boy for throwing a stone at us.

 

   

that road sign, no comment I’m tempted to say…well yes, one motorist stopped and warned us to fuck off as quickly as possible, people had been mugged and killed on this road. He seemed to have had some bad experience himself. He had a gun on the floor, not hidden, ready for use. That kind of warning came to us very often, sometimes with aggressive words as we didn’t want to change anything in our plan. One guy even started to yell at us “there are savages out there, they’ll eat you alive!! You won’t make it alive!”. I’ll never forget his face when we told him that we had precisely just crossed “there” without any problem whatsoever. Maybe lucky I agree, within a country with the highest rate crime in the world…

 

ok guys, start drooling, I’m off to Zanzibar now. See you in a few days.

bicycle trip, leaving Zimbabwe to Botswana.

 

we did enjoy Zimbabwe. We didn’t run short of food since only staple food was missing, that the only one affordable. Processed food and other “luxury” tin food were plentiful. We didn’t meet that many Mugabe supporters. But the anti Mugabes were careful on who to speak with. We had to leave because we ran out of strong currencies and we couldn’t use our credit card there. I mean you can, but this is a serious huge rip off if I’ve ever seen one. So sad we missed a park where they would have allowed us with the bikes and tents!

  

anyway, here is Botswana. It looks like the foot and mouth disease had been quite serious here. We had to walk and ride the bikes through some large basins filled up with chemicals to kills whatever germs responsible for the disease. We had to dip in our other shoes as well. We only rode on the eastern side of Botswana, which is not the most scenic part of the country. The Botswana country tourists go for is on the other side, near Namibia. But the pans, the famous hot and dry pans were nearby. The temperature was close to 35-40° C everyday. For the first time, we took naps during the hottest time of the day. Personally I don’t suffer at all from heat, I even breathe better than usual, when people pant and feel useless. I discovered that feat one hot summer in Texas that I coped much better with asthma in blistering hot weather. Big distances, hot weather, I got a bit concerned again with water, Joanne precised with “paranoid”. Anyway, we were carrying up to a total of 17 lt of water between us whenever we could refill. We were each drinking 7 to 8 lt of water everyday. Add a few sodas here and there, water from cooking pasta… But we didn’t feel sweating really.

 

Botswana by then, 2002, had about 1.5 million people. A good third was HIV positive! Campaigning was quite visible.

 

once in a while a little homestead, basic but essential for our needs.

 

common scenery on the continent.

 

Baghdad café revisited…

 

the country is dead flat, I don’t remember a hill. We rode easily 100 km or more on a day.

 

a novelty: fences everywhere, to fight the foot and mouth disease. Not so easy to camp on the side of the road in Botswana.

 

Francistown but it could be anywhere, the pavements are often invaded by various traders, hawkers, touts, thieves… you name it.

 

very smart to set a telephone business near a bus stand. Convenient to call friends and family and announce the delays.

 

I’m was puzzled and still is, to know where these guys get the phone connections. It obviously didn’t look the national company stands…

 

these women were selling goodies through windows to the travellers who don’t get down the bus. Usually food and drinks. In Tanzania, I only see men doing this job, with a bit of aggressiveness and competition. Here, sweet behaved ladies, all calm and polite. Refreshing.

wedding racket…

 

I just found this old wedding invitation in my junk. Quite a piece, I couldn’t resist to share it. I have erased last names and phone numbers by courtesy.

 

one of my colleagues had received it and thrown it away. I thought it was worth a little salvaging. From the outside it looks quite normal, slightly kitsch as usual for a wedding invitation. But…

 

 

once you open it, you realise this is not an invitation but a contribution! A world of a difference…. That was the 1st thing that shocked me a bit.

then there is a dateline! No fear no shame, huh?

the word “request” appears twice.

the word “contribution” twice too and “contribute” once.

the word “materially” once.

and a drawing of a wallet and money…just in case you didn’t understand those 6 hints (dumb you), here is a 7th to clarify it was all about money!

a little “god bless you” doesn’t hurt and it’s free, right? So why not…

4 phone numbers so you can’t say they were all busy.

because Mohamed is a friend and a relative…sure thing! He is still not invited!

I don’t criticize grammar issues as English is not the first language here.

and a last general note, did you notice the choice in title? Next to the usual “Mr/Mrs” etc, there is “Prof, Dr, Rev”. That’s title thing is quite a feat in Africa. Title grabbing is a national sport. You can piss off a high ranked somebody by using the wrong title or no title at all. Add a peps of corruption and people buy their title. Universities and other institutions etc are happy to oblige, between crooks, there must be some understanding I suppose, and “prof”, “honorable”, “doctor”, “chief”…are unofficially on sale. Of course there is a devaluation in title if the desk clerk is “prof” or if a colleague is already “honorable”. Too bad for the people who really deserve their title…So some smart Nigerian (as usual) guys created a business for “highly” and other sweet terms to add to existing titles. There was a superb and funny article on BBC Africa.

I’m called captain or capteni quite often by the way though they perfectly know my name, well or think they do: Beni, Benny, Bean(!), Benuwah, Benwa from the local people, and funny enough “Benoir” or “Benwar” from expats. Interesting but I don’t really know why this is the common mistake from various expat nationalities. But I knew from day 1 in Africa this would come, that’s why I became Ben right away. By the way my full first name is spelt “Benoît”. Write it down 100 times now, thank you. Next time somebody addresses me with a captain title only , I’ll pretend to be shocked and require a “ultimate honorable captain” title just to see the reaction, heehee.

just resigned today.

 

well, all said in the title right? I just cycled to the office today and told one colleague manager, a sweet man, that I was out of the company without notice. He was surprised, tried to get me to talk to one of the bosses but I am so pissed off at the way I’ve been suddenly treated that I refused. I’m too old to cope with mean bullshit, to be treated without respect. Sad because it had started quite normally. Then they decided to basically shred my contract, amend it with me having no say, making me feel like a paid slave with only the right to keep quiet. Well bad luck, I’m pigheaded sometimes and they now get a full load of bad karma in their face.

I left the office under a serious downpour but exhilarated, crossed a British cyclist, Peter, on his way to Cape Town from Norway, I invited him for a drink, we exchanged our experience on the bike matter, had a nice time sipping ice cream with thunderstorms all around.

And I cycled home still under heavy rains, made a point to splash through the numerous puddles, felt like a happy kid going home all muddy and drenched. Yes I’m 40 but my brain is lagging…

It was a good day, really.

now let’s be positive about this resignation. I can take my holidays next week, well Karine and I had booked a few days ago anyway, giving up on His (ex)Majesty’s still awaited answer. Monday, we’re off to Zanzibar. I’m bracing myself as Karine booked us in a luxury hotel (well I suppose), heehee. I hope we’ll still get some occasional showers for the atmosphere. This time I don’t fly there myself obviously, as I did last time with Karine and her folks. So as passengers we will have to be reasonable with our bags and limit our camera gear. Which is pretty fine for me, I won’t have to carry on Karine’s collection of heavy vintage cameras along.

Back to Arusha on Thursday and off to lake Natron the next day, by car this time. Karine has never seen this incredible place and I still want to drive further than just around the volcano Lengai. It will be in a luxury camp again. Since I’m now jobless for a while, I’ll use the land Rover and the roof tent on my own I guess.

still looking for an idea where to spend a few days in Xmas. Northern Tanzania is not short of locations. Just the regular rip off to avoid, some lodges feel the right to increase their prices because this is Christmas. I fail to see the link except the rip off…

in January, I’d like to try again a bicycle trip to lake Natron and back on my own, and make it this time! Technical problems last year…

then a friend mentioned a lovely trip she did to Djibouti. A bit of a forgotten destination, but easy to combine with a trip to Ethiopia… There is still a superb atmosphere and a colonial architecture in Djibouti. Not to mention the stories of Henri de Monfreid, a famous French adventurer (well in French culture anyway) who lived there with dodgy characters. To think about.

then Belgium in spring which I missed this year, some holidays again, and then I’ll consider looking for a job.

So obviously you don’t have to feel sorry for me.

Arusha between showers

 

showers usually don’t last and the sun warms up everything pretty fast, as if nothing had happened.

this dirt road is quite damaged but it’s still a nice short cut to go home. On the left a typical water truck. The caption says “maji safi”, clean water. Well I’d still boil and filter it. These trucks are common. Some areas, for various reasons are not connected to water, whether it is due to incompetence from Arusha water supply or because the underground doesn’t provide any water either. On the right, originally a Korean truck, then copied by the Chinese. 90% of all trucks in Tanzania are made after this design. The factory offers the choice for colors providing it is blue. This one has been repainted.

 

after the downpour, the puddles disappear fast. Women carrying burden. As for the pictures below, this area is not a slum, but the side of the main road in Arusha, a few hundred meters away from center town.

lost of street vendors and craftsmen try to make a living near the road side. It’s not always clear what they’re up to. This one looks like a shoe shiner with 2 idle accomplices.

 

sofas and furniture display in front of a grocery.

 

tractor salvaging. I like the half buried tyre, nice seat. Won’t be stolen at least, priceless.

 

grilled corn for sale.

 

cops and traffic jams. You can’t help wondering if things shouldn’t be left to motorists. 4 of them at this junction, only one working, 3 looking at girls, chaos is the rule. I sometimes have the same feeling in Belgium though. It reminds me of a reader’s letter in the local newspaper. Something about Middle Ages in Europe when road thieves ransoming travellers were tortured and hanged but nowadays in Tanzania they were given a white uniform and a salary (obviously not enough he added). I thought it was a gutsy double comparison, thieves and cops, and Tanzania and Middle Ages, but maybe the local editor missed the second allusion…

 

 

Muslims, 33% of TZ population. Some Indians, animists…the rest is Christian. The Coast is mainly Muslim though. Cohabitation looks pretty fine. It gets a bit hotter during elections but it is quite contained. Well it depends where you got your standards from. In Zanzibar street fighting can be hot with cop heads displayed on spikes! I can’t imagine how a crowd can get that crazy as to behead cops in the streets! In turn cops got on the revenge mood and started to fire in crowds a bit indiscriminately with their AK47’s. Dozens died. Then they were also accused of sinking fleeing boats with a total of 300 dead people, this with the help of a gunship helicopter. Problem is there is no proof as no bullet-riddled bodies have been found, only so-called survivors. I can imagine cops doing that but propaganda has no limit either or the overloaded boats might have just sunk …

 

ninja women, luckily not so numerous. I feel sorry for them and I pee on the “Politically Correct” concept. I don’t care about mean comments or jokes on Belgians (from Froggies), I don’t get upset when girls make comments on men’s numerous faulty designs, well that’s easy since most don’t apply to me ;-) and  I don’t care about jokes on bald people. If we leave the PC reigning free, humorists will be endangered species soon. Some stiff asses even attacked Walt Disney’s “Aladdin” because a carpet seller was too stereotyped (that is middle east). Sigh…

 

street market, daily occurence.

 

20lt jerrycan, a 25kg flour bag and I don’t know about the bag with the red stripe but it must be heavy too as the 25kg bag is on top! Kudos to these bikers.

 

I’ve never tried this kind of ice cream because I don’t trust the cold chain efficiency of these coolers.

 

cop with AK47 being distracted.

 

market ladies going home at the end of the day.