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Bus window hawkers in Tanzania are very strong and very cheeky people. I will be sitting, reading my book when all of a sudden the next thing I know, one has pried open the window and stuffed a BBQd corn on the cob into my face, on the end of a long wooden stick. I turn to look at him, which is immediately taken as a sign that I’m interested, so out of no where, another five corn sellers shove their burnt corn in my face too, hoping I might choose one of theirs instead. So now, I have six bits of burnt yellow lumps wiggling in my face without me even uttering so much as a single word, and I thus try to pretend to read my book once more or say "Hapana ashante" (no thank you), hoping they will get the idea and hurriedly move on to the next window, trying to get a sale before the bus moves off.

Tanzania - Of bus hawkers and mountain life

Simon Wadsworth
2007-08-28 19:27:35

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stupidly dangerous bus, past his house to collect his toothbrush, to night camp, the Rangwe Convent at 2000m asl, complete with stereotypical candles, and table-cotton-doilies, and a less-stereotypical nun channel surfing Tanzanian digital TV. A pleasant, if somewhat cold night - the first time I've seen my breath since trekking to Everest; temperatures I'm going to have to get used to again with a British winter just round the corner, *sigh*. Though I hear it's hotter in England at the moment than here at the Equator - what a strange world we live in.

On the second day, Amri and I joined up with two fun Australians and their guides, Anna, Melodie, Johny and Kilanja, adding to the day's enjoyment, especially as they spoke pretty good Swahili attracting even more kids. The walk took most of the day, stopping for a long lunch and at a small pottery factory. There must have been some hidden alert system because as if out of nowhere, within ten minutes of sitting down on little wooden seats, we were surrounded by dozens of people of all ages, each with a bucket full of pottery that they then insisted on spreading all around us, drowning us in it - pots, little models of dogs and even a couple of clay mobile phones. I bought a little tortoise from a girl who eventually owned up to making it, and I think I made her day, bless her. Before leaving, my parting gift was to show the kids how to make popping noises using your thumb in the corner of your mouth. Something tells me, there will be popping noises coming out of the valleys for weeks now...Oops.

The views were just as great of course, passing farmers at work tilling, watering, planting crops and drying tobacco and corn. Kilanja also had a remarkable ability for spotting chameleons, known for their camouflage I might add, from twenty yards away - one of which Melodie named Fred. Eventually, we made it to Mtae, a small village on a cliff-top setting, perfect for those cloudy sunset moments sitting on the edge of the world chatting about everything random, while listening to a small wedding band playing in the distance.

No specific funny events to tell I'm afraid, but it was a great walk and just the right medicine after Moshi. Along with Melodie and Anna, we then took two more hellish bus journeys - the first at 4am, incredibly bumpy and very cold as the windows kept rattling open (though the misty morning views nearly made up for this), and the second (and final ever bus journey on this trip!) a seven-hour journey to Dar Es Salaam, in narrow uncomfortable seats and very hot (I can't win can I? - hot/cold) sitting on the sunny side and once again having corn thrust into my face. Not even McDonalds could compete with the speed of this fast food!

So with no more buses left to take, there's only one place left to go - ferry to Zanzibar, the Spice Island. Woo! Final blog coming soon to a computer near you. Take care! xx