The last couple of days at Sokoine went well; On Thursday, I had a meeting with a group of final year students, and also went to a third year practical class on mastitis, at the University farm, which was really interesting. That night, I went out with Angie and the SACIDS crew, to a restaurant in Morogoro called Dragonaires which was good fun. Paul and Hamidu were in need of some local ugali and chappatis, so didn't join us, but it was nice to get a chance to chat with everyone from SACIDS.
We had spent the last night in Morogoro in a different hotel, as ours was fully booked, and so the next day we started our day early, with a breakfast that varied in quality and quantity depending on the price of your room...interesting! For us, this meant sharing a sausage between us, and dodgy cup of black tea. We got to SUA early, to join one of the final year ambulatory classes on a herd health visit. We followed their very packed landrover in our vehicle, and after a long drive, arrived at the farm, about half way to Dar Es Salaam.
The farm visit was very different to herd health visits that I've been on in the UK...the problems on the farm were glaringly obvious...unlike the few inches of insufficient trough space or sub optimal ventilation that we might discover on UK pig farm visits. The majority of the pigs had mange, and were really underweight, and a number of them were just dying there in the pens. The bedding was a rice husk bran, which the farmer refused to change, as he thought this made the farm organic (!), and this was only cleaned out once a year, so was absolutely filthy, and stank. There were too many other problems on the farm to mention, but it was a really interesting visit to go on, especially to find out about vet and vet students' attitudes and approach to animal welfare on farms.
We spent a good few hours on the farm, and it was nearly 12 by the time we left, deciding to head straight towards Dar, as we had no other plans for the day that warranted a 3 hour round trip back to SUA! We drove the few kilometers to Chalinze, a small but busy town, and Paul and I went to get the bus. We waited on the side of the road, watching the young boys running up to every bus that passed, carrying boxes of juice, biscuits, bread and various other things up on their heads to reach the high bus windows. Every time a bus approached there was a frantic commotion as they shouted to each other, and filled up their boxes before running to greet it. Eventually our bus arrived, and we jumped on, finding plenty of space at the back. I soon found out why there was so much room at the back....it is the absolute worst place to sit on a bumpy bus, especially one with a dodgy back tyre - as ours had. The journey was so bumpy it was actually hilarious, and before long, Paul and I were in hysterics, watching the seats in front of us be shaken almost off the floor! The hilarity did wane a little though, after 3 hours of being shaken up and down.
It was a good vantage point for people watching, and at every stop there was something to catch my attention. At one point, almost an entire wooden house of window panes, doors and wall panels were loaded onto a waiting bike cart from our bus's luggage hold. Taarab music; a very repetitive, African/Arabic sounding music was blaring out from various speakers at most of the stops, and there were people going about their daily business; soldering windows, making beds (hammering the bits of wood together - not just spreading the sheets!), dancing and lazing around playing draughts all the way along the journey - it was fascinating. And then of course there were the boxes of food and drink that floated past the window at every stop!
The bus journey took almost twice as long as we naively expected it to, and by the time we got to Dar, we only had an hour before the last ferry of the day. This is when our ill fated trip took a turn for the worse. Knowing that the ferry and accommodation, and pretty much everything else on Zanzibar was expensive, I went to get some cash out, but after three failed attempts, I realized that HSBC had taken this long to realize that I was in Tanzania, and...once again, blocked my card. By the time I had unsuccessfully tried to sort it, and had a very comprehensive tour of all the ATMs in Dar, I had well and truly missed the ferry, and resigned myself to a night in the polluted, noisy, mosquito-infested sweat pit that is Dar Es Salaam!
Thanks to my wonderful and extremely fast acting mother, I was able to get some cash out before too long, and after an afternoon of trawling round Dar, we were hot, tired, thirsty and downright miserable, (although Paul did commend my 'emotional stability'!) and I treated us to cake and milkshake to cheer us up! With a considerably brighter outlook, we decided that our bad luck was done for the day, and we went to meet Paul's niece who works in Dar, and had a nice evening with her. We checked into the YMCA, (the cheapest place I've stayed, but the fan didn't work, and the mosquito net was riddled with large holes, so I can see why!) and got an early night ready to catch the first ferry.
Woken conveniently by the early morning prayer call from the local mosque, we headed to the ferry port at 6am, to catch the first ferry. I'm really not quite sure how we ended up on the right one, but somehow, amid hoards of women in the traditional boiboi headscarves, carrying suitcases on their heads, men with boxes stacked upon boxes, and surprisingly few mzungus, we made it. The crossing took about an hour and a half, and was nice and smooth - Africans however, don't seem to travel too well, judging by the number of people vomiting into their sick bags around me - nice!
At the other end, we were accosted by touts offering us spice tours, hotels and taxis, but decided to walk the short distance to the daladala stand. Daladalas are like trucks with seats in them, that act a bit like the matatus; beeping and touting for business all the way, regardless, we discovered, of how full they are. We picked a fairly full looking one, (how naïve we were!) and managed to find a spot right at the back. Our luggage was hauled up onto the roof, and we were on our way. Gradually, as we headed North towards Kendwa, more and more people jumped in. Even when I was thoroughly convinced that there was no possible way to fit another human in, a family of five were let on. The 45 minute trip took 2 very painful hours, squashed into the corner, but one local woman still had the nerve to say 'grrr...these mzungus just don't know how to squeeze!' - I had a fully grown man on my lap at the time! Just as I was praying that I'd make it to Kendwa alive (I was struggling to inhale fully by now) and wondering how this could possibly be legal, and we were stopped by the police, and upon counting 30 people inside, they fined the operator, and demanded that he attend the police station to be prosecuted.
Finally we arrived at Nungwi - and were immediately joined by a group of local guys. I'm not sure what they wanted or were offering, as they only spoke to Paul, in Swahili, but I assume they wanted to take us to their various hotels or bars. We jumped straight in a taxi, and headed to Kendwa, the nearby village, with apparently better beaches and a more chilled atmosphere. Paul had made a bit of an error in judgement accompanying me to the North of the island, despite my protestations, as he needed to get the ferry back to Dar that night, and we only had about an hour together on the beach before he had to leave! It was the most stunning beach I have ever seen though - bright white sands and the warm, calm turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean, and lots of chilled out beach huts to stay and eat under.
I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about in a hammock, swimming, and chatting to the local guys - all of whom were thrilled to hear my limited repertoire of Swahili, and were keen to teach me more! They were all very friendly, and whilst they all had an ulterior motive - to sell me their artwork, snorkeling tours or taxi services, they weren't at all pushy, and seemed to be genuinely nice guys.
After watching the sunset with a group of German guys who I had befriended, I had an interesting shower - whereby brown water poured out of a hole on the other side of the bathroom every time I turned on a tap - and then, though only slightly cleaner, went for dinner. My hotel had a power cut, and so, although they could somehow make me a pork kebab or fish curry, even a sandwich was a problem, as this apparently required power! I had my doubts about their food, so headed next door, which was livelier anyway. I had a delicious lobster dinner, and a couple of beers, all for about a fiver - bargain!
The next morning I had to get up super early to start the mammoth journey up to Arusha. This consisted of about 5 legs; Kendwa to Stonetown to Dar to Chalinze to Arusha.....and nearly every leg went wrong. The Kendwa to Stonetown part wasn't too much of a disaster; it just cost about double what I'd planned for. I did however witness a wee spot of Tanzanian corruption on the way. As we drove past a police checkpoint, the policeman on duty clocked me in the back of the taxi, and immediately flagged us down. After a brief conversation in Swahili, and some sort of payment, we were allowed to continue, and my driver explained to me that if the police see a mzungu in a taxi, they demand payment from the driver, threatening to scrutinize their car for problems if they don't pay up. Shocking - and so blatant too. When we did arrive at the port, the ferry was running about an hour late. Even once we set off, it took double the time to get to Dar - possibly due to the choppy seas, or maybe just a laid back captain! Paul met me at the Ferry port in Dar, and we got a taxi to the bus station, via three out of order ATMs. The fourth attempt to get cash out was the least successful yet...it accepted my card, whirred a bit, then gave me a receipt to say I'd taken out £200, but no cash. Great. Another half hour wasted on the phone to the ATM service people, who eventually assured me that they would recredit my account - we'll see! Getting increasingly fed up, and once again dripping from the humidity, we trudged to the bus station, where we bought a ticket and were told to run for our bus which was just about to leave. We did run, and thank goodness did...we would have missed an hour sitting on a hot, sweaty, stationary bus! All this time, Hamidu our driver was waiting for us in Chalinze, convinced that we were just enjoying a leisurely ice cream in Zanzibar! I wish. Eventually, about 6 hours later than planned, we were reunited with Hamidu and car, and, with our sincerest apologies, set off on the longest leg of our journey. It passed pretty much without note, the surroundings getting greener and more mountainous, and the weather getting cooler with each kilometer, until we hit an electric storm...which soon became a torrential downpour. At about 10pm, we stopped about half an hour out of Moshi for a quick dinner of Chips Mai - basically a chip omelette - apparently it's a Tanzanian specialty, and a sure way to speed you towards a heart attack. The meal was made considerably more interesting by the sudden powercut midway through. We were plunged into complete darkness, without even a torch or phone to light our meals, so we spent the rest of the meal laughing hysterically, whilst - literally stabbing around in the dark, trying to find our food on the plate....I think we continued trying to find food long after we had finished!
Eventually, the journey ended, in Moshi, where we were lucky enough to find a nice hotel on only our second attempt. Aside from the predictable power problems, we slept well, and then headed to the Vetaid office in Arusha, where I sit now!
This morning I have had a fascinating chat with Dr. Roggers, one of the vets here who is working on the HIV impact mitigation project. This involves giving chickens and goats to families affected by HIV, as well as other aspects of support; legal help, education, support groups and help setting up kitchen gardens to improve their nutritional health. This afternoon I am going to one of the villages that has been helped by the programme to meet some HIV sufferers, and aid workers.
I also had an impromptu chat with the District Veterinary Officer. She is a woman, which is almost unheard of for a vet in such a position, and she told me all about the gender segregation in local communities; women not being allowed to talk to the men in meetings, even having to face the opposite direction; girls not being allowed to go to school, and in the pastoral communities, how women are not allowed to touch the animals. It's a whole different world, although it sounds like attitudes are slowly changing.
I can't believe this is my last week of work - the time has just flown by, but we have a busy week of field work planned, and will hopefully be going to a number of farms on various vaccination visits, as well as meeting some of the Community Animal Health Workers that work with Vetaid.
I should be back in Arusha at the end of the week, so will let you know how it all goes then!
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