Month: September 2010

Small Change Hoarding

The common bills used in Tanzania are 500, 1000, 2000, 5000, and 10000. (Divide by 1400 to get Canadian Dollars equivalent). When I get money from the ATM, it is usually all 10000. I usually get 400,000 Tsh (Tanzanian Shilling) at once. Imagine carrying that around. Actually I had just paid rent for the next three months, which amounted to 1,819,000 Tsh. Imagine getting that out of the ATM and storing it in my house. Craziness.

Anyways, the reason why I’m saying this is that it’s extremely hard to get change for the 10000 sometimes. Especially if you’re buying vegetables from a local stand, or buying a newspaper, or taking a bujaj (small open air taxis – super cool and fun to be in). Therefore, everyone desperately tries to save up their small change all the time. When we go out to eat or go to a larger supermarket, we always try to take as much small change as possible.

I think the fact that we have to consciously always try to save small change tells us a lot about the economy here. There’s basically a divide between those who always get lots of 10,000 Tsh bills and those who almost never get one.

I guess in Canada, it would be the equivalent of me taking a $50 bill and buying a newspaper. All the time. I guess that’s why foreigners seem so rich (we are in comparison to many; of course there are many, many, many really rich Tanzanians too).

Hujambo?

It feels like greetings form the basis of life here. Everywhere you go, everyone you meet – greetings! Just learning them requires a whole class of Kiswahili.

But I grew up with two cultures that don’t really greet people you don’t know. At least in North Van and on hiking trails in Canada, you would greet people you meet. In Hong Kong, don’t even think about it unless you want the whole bus to think you need to go to the hospital to get your head checked.

Over the years of living in Hong Kong and Vancouver, I’ve learnt the highly needed technique of avoiding eyes and staring into space on a very crowded bus. I’ve learnt to survey and enjoy my surroundings, but not have eye contact with anybody. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

Here, though, this is all crap. You’re supposed to look at random people on the street and greet them, especially since it’s a form of social insurance*. I still haven’t figured it out – who should you greet? It can’t possibly be everyone you see on the side of the street. The locals seem to only greet certain people, but I can’t see a pattern. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like they don’t know each other.

It doesn’t help that people stare at me, everywhere, all the time. I’ve learnt to ignore the stares, and actually I feel quite comfortable most of the time, despite sometimes men making comments that start with “hey baby.” It makes it really hard for me to know if they are just staring or if they would like us to say hi.

If it’s one thing I’m having a hard time navigating, it’s this greeting culture. It literally drains me to walk from the house to the office sometimes because I’m always thinking who should I greet and not. It just feels so much better when I’m walking on a main street so there’re too many people, so I don’t have to greet them.

*The more you greet people, the more you become part of the community near where you live. If anything bad happens, people are more likely to help you. And of course, vice versa.

Categories
Uncategorized

so much is going on recently, sorry I haven’t updated more frequently. I have some ideas for more posts. They’ll keep coming. I promise!

Categories
Uncategorized

Protected:

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Perceptions of Space

Post I wrote for the Sustainable Cities blog:

—————————————————————————-

“How do you think the perception of space here in Dar es Salaam differs from in North America?”

This question popped up during one of my attempts to understand my urban geographer roommate’s work. Leslie McLees’ PhD research focuses on investigating the meaning of space for the inhabitants of Dar es Salaam through urban agriculture activities.

While this is a hard question to answer, especially since we are only brief visitors of this city, it is an important one to ponder when considering urban planning. A city must be planned to suit the local needs and customs to function properly for those living within. Part of the problem is that a lot of the planning aesthetics, theories, and models are built on experiences of large “developed” cities such as London, New York, or Tokyo. Challenges arise when these values and principles are imported without adaption to local contexts.

Her answer?

Please go to http://blog.sustainablecities.net/2010/09/07/perceptions-of-space/ for the rest of the post.

I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately about myself, as self-centred as that sounds…

My future, my present.

My work, my personal life.

It’s so wide open right now, I love it. At the same time, it feels like there’s no grounding other than my family. It’s all up, floating, ready to go whichever way, whenever.

Mzee Purple Kanga

I pass by this elderly man on the way to work every morning. He’s an mzee – a respected elder – as Tanzanians would say. He always sits on the same bench at the same spot, right after I turn the corner. Sometimes reading the paper; sometimes just staring in space. He usually wears a purple kanga (a traditional (East?) African piece of colourful cloth with lovely designs and sayings) wrapped around his lower body and a white, unbuttoned shirt.

I started greeting him a few days ago.

‘Shikamoo.’ (me: respectful greeting to elders)

‘Marahaba. Hujambo?’ (him: reply to greeting. How are you?)

‘Sijambo (and big smile from me).’ (me: I’m fine.)

‘aoidsxfnaeoidsncodijscamodsi’ (him: some sentence in Kiswahili)

*blank look* (me)

‘You’re looking smart today/you’re a bit late today/etc’ (him: translates in perfect English)

‘Thank you/actually I’m on time today/etc’ (me: answers in English)

And so it goes. It’s so fun. I love how he makes the effort to talk to me even after the greetings are done. I love how he always says it in Kiswahili first and then translates when I need it. I hope this would go on.

I can’t wait until I learn more Kiswahili. Once a week lessons are just not enough!

Dual personalities?

I was on a conference call with my supervisor in Vancouver and my fellow Dar intern yesterday. I remember my supervisor asking if we were settling in alright; are there any daily life annoyances we want to talk about.

I seriously didn’t have many (or any, to say the truth). As I wrote before, the life I’m having in Dar is luxurious compared to my time in Kampala and Nyandira. I loved both, but it’s different. I was almost over prepared to come here this time.

As I was trying to explain why I didn’t feel uncomfortable, I realised that it’s mostly because I’m quite a different person here. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve kept my morals, values, principles etc, etc. I haven’t suddenly started eating kuku (chicken) like everyone else or started thinking I should try out a polygamous relationship (which, by the way, I morally have no problem with as long as it’s gender equal i.e. both women and men can have more than one spouse, and everyone involved agrees – as Trudeau said (slightly modified), nobody has any business concerning what happens in other people’s bedrooms).

But my mind is much calmer here. I have way more patience.

As most of my friends, family, and probably colleagues back home can attest, I am quite an impatient person. I need things on time. I love schedules and timelines and to do lists. I like organization and if things don’t go as planned, I would stay up all night making sure they do (no, I’m not a workaholic). I want things summarized and concise. I get impatient while long-winded people are telling stories, even if I’m planning to spend the whole evening with them.

But here, things just flow. Traffic jams? Whatever. I’ll just look out the window (or at someone else’s armpit if the daladala is crowded – oh, that’s a whole other post). Waiting for meetings to start? Oh, well, people will come when they do. Waiting for food? I’m not that hungry, I’ll just people watch; it’ll come eventually.  If I can’t control it, then let it be.

I really don’t know why. It happened to me last time too. I suspect it’s because my brain and body treats it all as a learning experience. Or maybe the energy of this town is just so much more soothing, even in the busiest of intersections.

Of course, bursts of Tiff-in-Vancouver/Hong Kong still come out, especially in strange moments.

Hong Kong Feet

I have Hong Kong feet.

No, people from Hong Kong, I don’t have athletes’ foot (yeah, don’t ask me why in Hong Kong athletes’ foot is called Hong Kong feet).

This morning, I was about 2 minutes “late” for work (“late” is in quotes because I’m supposed to get to work at 8 am, but since I had the keys, I had to get there at 7 am…very long story). So I was automatically walking faster. And suddenly, I realised I was walking past everyone else on the street. I was cruising by, Hong Kong style (if you have a chance to go to Hong Kong, I would suggest one of my favourite places – the walk from one side of the Central MTR (underground metro) station to the other, through this long, white corridor. During rush hour, the marching sound of all the business people going to/coming from work is amazing. It’s so Hong Kong).

Now you see, in Vancouver, this wouldn’t normally cause any kind of concern for me. I walk fast, therefore I pass people; simple. But here, it seems like, walking fast almost has a bad connotation. I’m told by Ms. Research Assistant that only mzungus (white people/foreigners/correct plural = wazungu) walk fast and don’t say greetings. If she, or any Tanzanian, walks like mzungus, people would point and say she’s trying to be foreign. I also noticed that when I walk fast, people don’t greet me as much – I’m probably being too mzungu.

Or more precisely, I have Hong Kong feet.

Chinese medicine in Tanzania

My roommate’s research assistant and Swahili translator told me what “Chinese medicine” means here.

Apparently people here believe that there is Chinese medicine that can make your butts and breasts larger (according Ms. research assistant (she’s so awesome, it’s always fun talking with her), the number one criteria for beauty here is a nice bottom). Apparently, it works.

So she says sometimes walking down the street, you would hear people saying mchina (chinese) to some local women, that means they think they have used that Chinese medicine.

Unfortunately for me, I hear mchina all the time…..I highly doubt it’s for the same reason though :P

Spam prevention powered by Akismet