Royals

I bought some dvd’s on the street the other day. There isn’t much to do these days so I had to find something to do for the weekend. I knew the risk of them not working, and as it turned out three out of four worked fine.

One of the movies I found was the Queen, story about the British royals. We watched it with two of my friends. They had lots of questions about the royals. I couldn’t really enjoy the movie but that was another case. Bigger problem was that I didn’t really know what to answer to questions like, why do Europeans have royals, why don’t they vote, why do people like them, what really is a prince, how can you become a royal, how can Africa get royals, and so on.

I have always been quite good in history, so answering most of the questions was easy. But to rest I had to be very creative. I mean just talking about Diana’s outfits or Queen Elisabeth’s affection to animals is totally from another world. You try explaining someone who lives in a one room “house” with a goat and owns one suit to wear when going to town that there are others who have a bit different life. Some things should be just left unsolved.

Olympics

Olympics started, you all know that well. Here not so many people know about them. They showed the opening ceremony and some sports are shown during the day in local channels. I don’t really get to see what I want but at least I get to experience some of the atmosphere.

So far I have been watching it with my friends. Again I have had to answer the weirdest questions about different things. What is doping and why do people use it? Why do they have TV screens outside in Beijing? Why shooting is a sport? What is a King Dynasty?

I really don’t know where to start. Yes you can compare doping to Ugali, watching sports on big TV screens to sitting under a tree with your friends, shooting for ivory to shooting for winning a medal, and King Dynasty to tribal casts, but there are just too many things in the world that even I can’t compare.

Commercials

During the seven months I have been here, I have seen the same commercials on TV every day. They have four kinds of commercials: concerning beer, cell phone operator, Coke, and HIV/Aids. If I needed to advertise anything, Tanzania would be the ideal place. First of all, everyone knows commercial clips by heart. Secondly they play them everyday and the cost is not very high. Thirdly and probably the most effectively, everyone believes in them 100 %. That is probably why the Coca Cola has a monopoly in Africa. I only wish that they could solve the problem of HIV/Aids through that channel also.

Miss Tanzania

New Miss Tanzania was announced the other day. Again I happen to be watching with my friends. We started talking about the beauty. I was asked that how do they know that one person is better than the other by just looking at her face and body. Really - How does one know?

8.8.2008 I am back in Mwanza, my home. It is still winter but I don’t see the difference really. Winter here means that it is supposed to be dry and a cold. To me it means that that during the night you might need two sheets to put on you, but other than that, it is hot during the day as it always is.

I am still on “holiday”. Students were supposed to come in July but Ministry hadn’t had time to announce the lists yet. Well, now the names are out and we are expecting students to report on August 25th. Since we are in Africa, this will probably mean the beginning of September.

Last years students are now on their field practise. “My” physical education students keep me posted about their lives and their lives don’t really sound attractive. I know teachers are not appreciated anywhere in the world, they are always underpaid. In Tanzania it is even worse.

The Ministry of Education in Tanzania changed the teacher studies from two years to one year. The change was informed last May, two weeks before students were to leave on a holiday. Students were told that instead of coming back to college after the holiday, they would be posted in different schools around the country to do their field practise. Field practise is supposed to cover all what usually is taught during the second year.

Ministry announced the change in May. Ministry hadn’t allocated any money for the student teachers on their field practise. The students were sent on the field without a guarantee of a salary.

Students left and started their field practise in the beginning of July. They were told to go to the head master of that school to help with the accommodation. They weren’t given any money. Most of these students are poor so they were counting on the head masters.

Now they have been on the field for a month. I have talked to some of the students and I have to say that their situation is not good. Some are sleeping in the open classrooms which have no doors or windows, some have been sent out to find a place of their own so they sleep where ever, fortunate ones in somebody’s house, unfortunate in guesthouses which are cheap so therefore unliveable. No one has been given any money.

While I visited the Ministry of Education in Dar few weeks ago, I asked how this was possible. They told me that the problem had been noticed. Reason was that the decision of change of the studies was done before the parliament had promised to allocate money for the students but now the money was there. Students would be informed immediately. I was just wondering how, since I know that they don’t have any addresses or e-mails.

I talked to my students again last week and heard they had been informed by the head master that they could collect their salary of 120 000 Tsh (about 80 e) from the regional office every month on certain day. Money for July would be handed out on Friday.

On Friday students went to the regional office. All student teachers were gathered there. The number is close to 1000 students in each office. They were asked to line up by each school. If they went somewhere in between, they lost their spot and were handled last. It took the whole day to hand out the money. When my students were done, it was already late night. They said that there were still many who were waiting. I was amazed how patience they had been. And each month they would have to go back to do the same thing.

That is a good example how things are handled in this country. People are used to it. We just wouldn’t take it. Here there is no choice. Of course you can complain, but to whom. It won’t do any good. In some cases it might even heard you.

3.8.2008 Before leaving Dar es Salaam once again, I wanted to enjoy some things which are not possible in Mwanza where I live. There are not that many things that I miss being in the bush, but when you are about to leave, the hysteria starts to take over.

Good example is ice-cream. There are only few places in Mwanza where you can find ice-cream so basically I never get to eat it. While in Dar es Salaam the variety is huge. The Supermarket next door for example is selling family packages. And being very careful with my money, there is no way that I can buy only one litre, which price per litre is lot more than when buying four litres. Then you know with every spoonful you are actually saving money. It would be stupid to buy any less than four litres – right.

There is also another thing which is weird when ever coming back to Dar es Salaam. In the supermarkets they have pet departments. I have never had any pets so I don’t really recognise pet departments or stores in that matter back home. Here the contrast is so huge that it is impossible not to notice. And if you ask any Tanzanian what pet food is, they wonder what you mean by that. It is what ever you give them. Not like there is a special store for pets. Further more there aren’t really any pets, unless you call the goat which is living inside the house your pet.

I have to share you one incident that happened to me the other day at the supermarket. There is this one place called Shoppers Plaza here in Dar es Salaam. It is really out of this world. There is even an escalator there. There are not that many people who have seen an escalator so every day you see people wondering how to get on it. But the other day I saw 12 sisters (nuns) waiting bottom of it thinking how to get on. Then they finally got round to it and there was no ending. It looked like they were going straight to heaven. That is how happy they all were. It was like a short clip from the movie Sister Act.

Safety issues have become more important in Tanzania. Every building is surrounded by tall walls. On top of the walls there are electrical lines or other lines with spikes ensuring that nobody climbs over. When ever they are starting to build something, they start by building a high wall so that nobody knows what is going on behind the gates.

Walls are partly understandable, especially if you are not used to the culture where it is normal to walk across anyone’s garden or front door in that matter. The walls around your property will make sure that they don’t bypass. Bars on the windows, on the other hand, I find something else than safe. In case of a fire inside the house, there isn’t any way to escape through the windows. But everything is guarded by bars here. Just getting into our sports office takes few minutes when opening number of locks and doors.

What amazes me day after day is the relaxed atmosphere especially during the lunch time. Under each tree there is a drive-in restaurant where people sit together and eat ugali. In this case drive-in doesn’t only mean that the customers drive there for a quick lunch. It means that one mama has walked there with her pots and pans and has started to cook. Then everyone around gathers there to eat and socialize. When ever I walked by one of these removable restaurants, I am always welcomed to join them. So far I have hesitated, but only because ugali is not my favourite dish. One day I will try it, I promise.

One last thing about Dar es Salaam concerns again the Police. I hear and experience so many things with the police that I always think that nothing surprises me anymore, but could I be any more wrong.

My friend from Ireland told me about his walk home from a bar the other day. It was close to midnight but he lived quite close to the bar so he decided to walk instead of taking a taxi. There weren’t many people around anyway. Soon after, he found two policemen who chatted with him for a while. He continued walking towards his place and the policemen decided to accompany him. While walking, policemen talked about their families. They explained that they needed food for their kids. My friend was very reluctant to give any money, but after a while he realised that there was no way out of it. He was forced to give money to these policemen. I was stunned. Again being a naive Scandinavian, who thinks that the police is there to serve and protect, makes you wonder, that if you can’t trust the police, who you can trust. It was time to leave Dar es Salaam behind.

2.8.2008 I was invited to a yacht club on Friday night. That sounds amazing doesn’t it? I know, not everyone gets to go inside. You have to be invited.

When I walked in, I said to my friend, so this is where I have to find a date. I didn’t know how things would really turn out.

We walked in and started mingling. The best thing about country clubs or yacht clubs is that you can’t pay for everything. They don’t accept money. You have to charge it to someone’s account. Well, as hard as it is to eat and drink for someone else’s account, I learned it quite quickly.

There are about 800 members in that club, people from all over the world. Some are corporative people, some diplomats, some just people with more money than I do. The world behind the gates is totally different from the real Tanzania. At that moment I didn’t mind.

After an hour I was having an interesting conversation about sailing. And I have never been sailing. I have been out on a boat, but usually I was the one doing all the rowing. Anyway, before I knew it I was set up on a blind date with someone next day on a catamaran. I left to home amazed, anxious and little scared.

Saturday came. I was asked to be at the gate at two to have lunch with the guy. I was there half an hour early, just because I was excited about the sailing part.

I was told that the guy was a bit older than I was, a doctor from Luxemburg and single. What else did I need to know to trust my life on someone’s hands to go sailing?

I called him at two to let him know I was at the gate. He came to let me inside. Well, where should I start. He was a very nice guy. He spoke perfect English and yes, was a bit older than I was. Let’s just say that the “bit” part has to be defined little better. Well, I wasn’t going to let minor things ruin our sailing date.

The person who usually sails with him was away. She is from Sweden and works with Ulla-Maj, so that is how I was hooked up with this guy. My mom’s brothers live in Sweden and half of my cousins are Swedes, so I have always thought they can’t be all that bad. Well, they are not. Just remember not to let them fix you up on a date with anyone.

We were supposed to have lunch before the briefing. Briefing is an introduction of upcoming competition. Yes, we were attending a competition. My “date” started by saying he has a bad hung-over and couldn’t eat anything. I didn’t want eat alone, or with someone who wasn’t eating anything so I decided to go with a little lie that I wasn’t hungry either, since I had had a late breakfast. That wasn’t true at all. I was starving. Instead we ordered drinks.

We talked for an hour while more people showed up and I was introduced to lots of our future contestants. At some point I was almost traded with another sailor. I don’t know if I should be offended by that. My “date” knew I hadn’t sailed before so maybe he was looking for a better “co-pilot”. It couldn’t be the date part. He couldn’t be trading me with for another date, could he? The other guy was a guy. Well, maybe he could, I don’t know. Anyway, we stayed as a team.

Two hours later we knew the coordinates for today’s race. By us, I mean he knew, and I was happy with that. We walked to the shore where the catamaran was waiting for us. We went through all equipment. I was just knotting along trying to look confident and by making him think that I learned them right away. I think everything he said went in from one ear and out from the other.

I started to dress up. I had been told to wear long shorts and a t-shirt. So I had my basketball shorts on and t-shirt. I didn’t blend in at all with all snobs with their Silverquick shorts, wind-proof sailing shirts and up-to-date micro-velvet shoes meant for water sports. I didn’t care anymore. I was just going to enjoy the day.

Stan, my sailing partner - I think it is time to change the “date” to the reality “sailing partner” – helped me to put my gear on. First I put on my “harness” which looked more or like diapers. Then I put my life vest on. I shouldn’t really say mine since everything was just handed to me, but they were my gear at that point.

After ten minutes of battle I had everything on from shoes to gloves. At that point there was no way of thinking of looking sexy, not even decent. So for those who haven’t sailed before, here is a little advice. Don’t go sailing if you want to impress someone by looking good. And another reason is the soreness afterwards. I had blisters but I won’t go to any closer details on that. Let’s just say that there wasn’t going to be any chance to ride a bike or anyone that matter after that sailing experience.

The “boat guys” helped us to push the catamaran to the shore. Stan asked me to walk into the water to keep it still while he fixed the last ropes and things. I did what I was asked to do. I stood in hip-deep water and held the boat until I was asked to jump inside.

I took my spot in the front. Catamaran has two “sidebars” attached with a trampoline. You are supposed to sit on either side or every now and then lean back all the way outside the boat with only feet touching the side while attached to the catamaran by wires from your harness. It looked easy but I knew it wasn’t going to be.

We started sailing. We did some turns which had different names, not that I could remember them anymore. Not that I remembered them then either. He said something like “ready for tag”. And I was supposed to say “ready”. Then he continued “tag”. And then I was supposed to jump to the other side, release the front sail and tighten it to the other side. It sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, it can be after few years, but to me it wasn’t. I learned to be “quick” when jumping from one side to the other. And that is not easy for someone with knees like mine. I can’t bend them well and on a boat you really have to be flexible to get from one side to the other without falling. I didn’t want him to know that I had a problem with my knees, I never do. I think it is enough that everyone sees that my knees look bad. They don’t have to know the pain inside.

So jumping from one side to the other was going well. The releasing and tightening wasn’t really. I could see that it took patience from Stan to keep his voice calm. He did it though. He never raised his voice. Sometimes he released the rope though which showed me that he also noticed that I was slow but other than that he was a very good teacher.

We practised turns few times before getting ready to start the competition. I thought that I wasn’t going to concentrate on the competition; there were enough of worries by just trying to stay on the catamaran.

When the competition started, my mind changed. We had a great start. My competitiveness rose. We were second until the first mark. Then it was time to turn. Then everything changed. I was slow again and the speed just died. I think everyone passed us. I was going through some flash backs of interviews of contestants in Olympics when they complain over the wind that had died. I was thinking that I knew exactly what they were saying. But the truth is that I didn’t. We had stopped only because I had been slow. I knew that. I just wanted to think that it was wind’s fault.

After a while we were moving again. Then it was time to try to lean back, get out of the boat. I was scared. I had to hook myself into a hook and trust my life on that little hook. You are supposed to lean back and push yourself out with your feet. If you can bend your knees, it is a bit easier. If you try to balance yourself out straight away, it will be harder. I had no choice. I leaned back holding onto some wires which didn’t really give me any support. I slid back and was almost totally out. Then we hit a wave and I bounced right into Stan almost knocking him into the water. But I stayed inside. I apologised and balanced myself. He smiled and said politely that it was ok; at least we both were still inside. I knew it wasn’t ok, but was glad that he was such a gentleman.

We kept on sailing and I got better by each turn. I learned how to get out quicker and how to slide in without knocking myself or my sailing partner out. I was still slow with turns but I thought of myself quite good especially being a rookie. While time passed and we were getting better as a team, we (or I, he was probably all the time doing it) started to concentrate on winning the competition. I never knew who was ahead of us and who was behind us. It is not like a marathon; who ever is ahead is leading. First of all there are lots of markers and I never knew which were counted and which were just standing there showing not to get closer to shore. Then there are some kinds of handicaps. Our boat wasn’t the fastest so even if we didn’t come to the finish line first, we could win the race. I just kept asking stupid questions while my partner did all the planning and tactical decisions. I know that my job was to read the marks, but hey, that would have meant that we had sailed to India probably.

There were nine catamarans on that day. One didn’t make it anywhere from the starting line. They lost their sail. We came fourth which I thought was quite good. I didn’t really care but I could tell that my partner did. He said that we shouldn’t feel bad though. There were only one other boat that we could have beaten but the others had much more experienced crew. I felt good, he didn’t, but we managed.

The day at the Sea was awesome. The feeling when you are going 14 knots/hour, your feet barely touching the side of a catamaran which is in the air only the other side touching the water, you know that one wrong move will knock you to the water, it is amazing. Then other times you are still outside the boat attached only by the rope to the boat, you are almost vertical with the water, only a foot from the surface, thinking life can’t get any better than this. How can you even describe the feeling!

The race took almost two hours. It was getting late when we pulled into the shore. I was totally wet. I didn’t notice it through the excitement but I was freezing. It is a new feeling in this country, but it is winter here after all.

We pulled in and took our gear off. I took a hot shower for ten minutes trying to get my teeth from stopping squeaking. I thanked my partner for a great day and headed home.

Well, things didn’t turn out like I had imagined. We didn’t sail into the sunset. Yet I had a great day which I wouldn’t trade for anything. And I have Swedes to thank for. I am ready to substitute for them when ever there is a need, so thank you for the opportunity.

And for all those who have managed to read this far - not everything you read is true!