| |
| Who are we | >> Diary << | Alex Diari | Photos | Project | Answers | Videos | Questionnaire | Itinerary | Sponsors | Other travellers | Collaborate | Contact |
Diary This is Jan's diary. If you want to receive this diary by mail, write your mail on the contact form.
‹ Previous (14/09/2007) MONTH Next (2007-11-13)› ‹ Previous (2007-09-28 - Botswana) COUNTRY Next (2007-10-16 - Malawi)› Zambia Lusaka (see on map) 14/10/2007:
We have spent another relaxed week in Lusaka, expecting the power supplier to arrive from South Africa, fixing a problem of the car (we have changed a bearing of the alternator that made the belt screech), carrying out the visas to enter in Malawi and Tanzania (the Romanians do not need visa for Tanzania) and met very interesting people. First we met Jonathan, a boy from Zambia that works as marketing manager for an important company that imports paper from South Africa. Jonathan was complaining that his boss was Indian and that 90% of the owners of companies in Zambia were Indians. Jonathan did not feel too well treated by the company and that's why he planned on creating his own company and taking the customers of the one where he was working, but he needed money and the banks did not let him any. Jonathan seemed a very responsible boy, working and of confidence, that's why I asked Mick if he wanted to invest in his project, but he answered me: - The number of Zambians that can be entrusted can be counted on the fingers of a hand, besides, if he plans on fucking his boss, he can also plan on fucking me further on. Yesterday, Jonathan invited us to eat in his house (a small dining room where he had an office table and a small room with two beds, for whether he had guests). During the lunch he explained us that he had been born in a very humble family, orphan and without economic possibilities to go to school, but a nun, observing his aptitudes, paid for his studies, till he reached a business school in Ireland, but could not finish the first course of university because the nun died. After eating he has accompanied us to the neighbourhood where he was born, camp Linda, where 1000 inhabitants lived without school, hospital, running water,... Even like that, the people were very open and happy with white people (or "muzungus") visiting them. Today we have met a Spanish guy. He Has left us his card in the windscreen when observing the Spanish plates of the autocaravan. We have called him and we have met this afternoon. The man was called Pedro and has come accompanied by a girl born in Zambia called Debbie. Pedro works for one year now in Zambia directing a computer programme for the ministry of finance. Off of record, Pedro has commented that in the government of Zambia there is a lot of corruption, for example his company had to pay before being granted the project. We have kept conversing on policy comparing our opinions (he has a franquist background and me a background of Catalan feeling), also on religion comparing my opinions to those of Debbie (I opined that one can be been mystic without having to believe God). Pedro commented that the Europeans, when they arrive to Africa in general have the complex of being white, a feeling of guilt for the poor situation of the blacks, however the Africans (or Zambians) have the complex of black, a feeling of misfortune that believe is provoked by the whites. These two complexes are combined so when the whites, they start to help, at the same time the blacks try to be make the most of it, then the whites realise that the unfortunate situation of the blacks is provoked by themselves and the complex finishes. Pedro and Debbie explained many cases to us to show this reality: • They had a guard that stole them 7000 € throughout a year, little by little. In the end they caught him with all the receipts of currency exchange in the pocket. • They had another guard who gave them a cheap excuse not to come to his night shift. Afterwards, he came after three days explaining that he had had to attend a funeral (Jonathan had also explained a similar anecdote of other workers). • Debbie has a gardener that whenever he can, takes the car without her permission to visit his friends and denies it afterwards (even if they have caught him sometimes). • In the school of Debbie they needed a professor. A girl that was recommended arrived for the interview, but instead of showing minimal interest on the work she was only interested to know the salary and when it will be increased (did not seem interested in giving anything in exchange for the money that she would get). They explained many other similar anecdotes to us, and the pity is that Jonathan, being African, also confirmed to us partially this way of being of the Zambians: they are very warm, little troubled, help each other, but at work are very vague, little responsible, liars, dishonest, undisciplined... For this motif, to all in all the businesses the owner always has to control that he is not being robbed and that everybody works (this is what we observed). And, in the same maybe due to this there is no industry in Zambia. Anyway, Pedro and Debbie also explained that the Zambians get very little (for example the personal guards of the ministers only get 100$/mth) and that probably makes them think on themselves and not on the company. It’s like a fish that is biting its tail. It is a pity, but after these months going all over Africa I think that the opinions of Pedro and Debbie are not too far from the reality. In general the Africans do not have the same values as the Europeans do, in this capitalist world this values would be very useful to them. --- After not taking for quite a lot of time the pulse to the world, I interviewed Jonathan who said that the main problem of the world is the mentality of the people that are usually pessimistic obstructing the progress and the attainment of goals. Educating for the individual independence would be the solution. The Zambians are not poor materially but they are poor in mentality. He tries to be different and thinks that this is a good way of affecting his environment. The main problem in Zambia is the education that is very expensive and the high % of unemployment due to the lack of industry. The solution would be to receive investors that generate work and to try to make the banks trust more the enterprising Zambians. Jonathan feels happy personally, but, not when he observes his environment, because the Zambians are not free economically yet. He would be happier if there was more work to develop Zambia. Jonathan thinks that the secret of happiness comes from God. Malawi Liwonde (see on map) 16/10/2007:
In Mali and Niger we had a lot of heat with the sun shining from the centre of the sky, but we are now crossing once again the vertical line of the sun and fortunately the temperatures are much more temperate. I feared that we would encounter 40 degrees in temperature and that the inversion in foods that we had made in South Africa would be lost. We had bought two big boxes of cans of groceries to save ourselves from buying the same products at double prices in the countries more in the north. But if we follow the itinerary towards the north, will soon leave the sun towards the south and will be in winter and the foods will be saved. 18/10/2007:
According to the travel guide, Malawi is the warm heart of Africa, a country to be visited obligatory for the beauty of its landscapes and the cordiality of its inhabitants. Anyway, Lilongwe has not complied with the expectations, perhaps because it is only the capital and the reality of the country is not represented. Lilongwe is not a touristy place. According to the guide book it was recommended to visit the main market, but this did not exist any more, although the area was a mishmash of shops and activity. We have also visited the Natural Shrine, where the guard of the entry has warned us about the danger of thieves hidden among the bushes and about crocodiles near the river. But I haven’t seen anything (no animal at least). The most interesting thing of this visit has been the tension of whether I found these dangers, so i was with the knife open ready to jump behind and run away through the path between the bushes. In any case, Lilongwe has been a good point to solve a couple of problems of the car (for its low cost): changing a peace of the brake that was completely used up and raising the protection of the car installed in South Africa not to touch the ground. Cape Maclear (see on map) 21/10/2007:
Cape Maclear was only about 100 more kilometres in the south of the route by the coast of Lake Malawi towards Tanzania. However, although Cape Maclear astonished us, we would probably not have gone there if we had known the state of the road. It took us about 4 hours to cover the last 70 kilometres on a track that reminded us of the roads of Cameroon, or worse Gabon. Anyway, from Lilongwe we had the opportunity to enjoy the landscape compensating the fatigue of the journey. Along the road, most of the land was cultivated, with women, men and children working the land with hoes, or others walking or pedalling with bicycle for the side of the road loading the cultivated products. On the other hand, the houses and the small villages followed one another, with small shutdowns selling fruits and vegetables and others selling other products made by hand: floor mats, sofas, beds... It gave the impression that, on the contrary to what they had explained to us about the Zambians, the Malawians cannot be blamed of being lazy. This would be a good reason to explain why Malawi is a relatively prosperous country without having mineral or fossil resources. Although we were surrounding the Malawian lake all the time, we could not contemplate it until we arrived to Cape Maclear, a small village settled in front of some islands that highlighted the unreachable horizon of the lake. It would have been complicated to put the autocaravan near the beach unless we had not camped in a "Lodge", but we found a very economic, calm, very pretty and frequented one. And there we have been able to relax ourselves all the weekend, reading, conversing with other travellers (there was a Swedish couple that were carrying out an itinerary similar to ours on bicycle), walking through the village and the beach, and doing snorkelling (swimming with feet of duck and glasses). Swimming alone through the beach of the village I have been able to observe small fish, snails and dirt that would stay there forever due to the lack of waves. I would have probably seen much more interesting fish if I would have hired a small boat towards the next islands, but we have to keep watching with the budget and so I have discarded it. Yesterday in the afternoon I went out to walk through the village. A boy from the village started to accompany me giving me conversation, but I explained to him that i could not give him money for his company. He seemed disappointed at first, but he accepted to come in the end and we kept walking (I ended up giving him a tip afterwards). The boy, was called Solomon, explained the meaning of the words that the children addressed me: "do a photo me", show the photo" to me" (I do not remember the original pronunciation). If i photographed a group of women or men working, they would have normally asked Solomon why, who – by his own initiative - explained to them that I worked for an ONG, who had delivered balls to the school of the village and who after the journey would send the photos to the school. Although it opened me the door to do the photos that I wanted, I did not feel comfortable with this lie, because when somebody asks me i normally attempt to explain that I travel for many months and that I can not send the photos. We were walking through the beach, where the children played; the women washed dishes, clothes or children; and the men fixed nets or played Go or cards. We returned walking through the centre of the village, crossing the cemetery full of goats, and visiting the cinema of the village: a home of straw where the people paid about 5 Euro cents to see a film on DVD on a normal TV. Little before arriving again to the "Lodge", Solomon told to me that i resembled Chuck Norris, the actor of cinema. I would not have given any importance if a little further another guy called me again "Chuck Norris". Afterwards I explained it to Alex, but she told me "The only resemblance with Chuck Norris is that you are both very ugly". Parc Natural de Liwo (see on map) 22/10/2007:
If we wanted to avoid the horrible track that took us up to Cape Maclear, we had to circulate about 100 kilometres more in the south, and we did it without thinking twice. On the other hand, this not foreseen stretch would allow us to visit the Nature Reserve of Liwonde (economic as those of South Africa). We slept at the entrance of the Park and this morning very early we have crossed the gate. We have covered quite a lot of kilometres on a dusty track without seeing almost any animal, but when we have started to see them it has been great. The road went by the side of the river Shire (which obtains the waters from lake Malawi) where crocodiles and hippopotami swim and every type of antelopes, quite a lot of wild pigs and also elephants graze, one of which scared us a lot. We were circulating observing how two young elephants were fighting, when one of them has suddenly separated and he has started to be moved towards us. I have changed quickly on reverse gear while Alexandra screamed with all her energy provoking the elephant stopped and started to move the ears. More ahead we have found some other elephant that did not seem satisfied too much with our presence and we have ended up deducing that the elephants in this park are not used to the cars as in the other parks. The entry of the park was valid for 24 hours, so, I have decided to spend the night in the park, in spite of the disapproval of Alex, who was convinced that one of the elephants would attack us during the night. But it has not been like this, some strange shout of some animal has only woken up us without any consequence. Mzuzu (see on map) 25/10/2007:
From Liwonde we started to go towards North, crossing small villages and cultivated landscapes. In Malawi there are few cars on the road, but many people on foot and with bicycle circulating on the side of the asphalt. When passing, the children and the women usually greet us smiling and moving hands; the men, also lifting the hand with the thumb up as a sign of approval. We always try to return the greetings, although sometimes they greet us from the fields and we do not realise until we are passing. In Salima we met the Swedes of Cape Maclear again. They were looking for a lorry that could take them up to Lilongwe, the girl had the bicycle broken and they thought that there they could fix it. The Swedes recommended us an economic restaurant in Salima and Alexandra convinced me to go to eat. Beans with Nshima (a mass made with corn flour) asked Alex. Nshima! In Zambia she never wanted to taste it and there she wanted to taste it and she liked it (she told me after to buy corn flour to cook and to eat more). We kept circulating towards north, bordering Lake Malawi but without observing it. But mid-afternoon we decided to approach the edge and spend the night. We followed a road up to a "Lodge" where we camped (I understood that it would cost us 1 $ in total, but the day after they communicated us that were 10 $, anyway I only paid 1 $ as I explained them the limited budget that we had). In the evening I swam with the glasses and feet of duck, but I did not see anything due to the waves (yes, waves in a lake)that were lifting dust muddying the water. On the following day in the morning, Alexandra also bathed. Taking advantage of the beach being very shallow, I helped Alex so that she learned to swim. And finally she could, managing to float on the water swimming as a dog. Later we will improve the style, but she is at least losing the fear of the water. Around midday we reached Nkhotakota, a town that had been the centre of the trade of slaves in the area. One should not be surprised that the town (in the same way that many other towns in Malawi) has some mosques, since in the east coast of Africa, the trade of slaves was dominated basically by the Arabs. Anyway, the main touristy attraction of Nkhotakota is an old mission and the spectacular tree on the side, under which Livingstone convinced chief Jumbe to finish the slaves’ trade (in the 19th century). We got out of Nkhotakota with the intention of stopping to eat under the first "uninhabited" shadow, but the surroundings of the road continued with villages and the only big trees were always near houses or villages. Finally we have parked under a big tree in the courtyard of a school that seemed deserted and we have started to cook. But after little while children shy and curious appeared, that have started to ask us for our names through the window and to ask us also to give them something (I think that they only wanted to interact, but one of the few words that they knew in English was "give me"). In spite of being surrounded with children, we have been able to eat relatively calm and without Alexandra being stressed out. In the afternoon we have followed north, stopping to sleep next to the road, few kilometres from Nkhata Bay where we have arrived today in the morning. We have read that in the south of Nkhata Bay there was a fantastic beach, and like this it was, even though to arrive we have had to pass a path equal or worse than Angola. The beach reminded me of some beaches of Costa Brava, in the North of Catalonia: a small beach surrounded of rocks. This time, Alexandra did not swim because she had the back burned from the previous day. I also, but I have put on protection and have thrown myself to swim among the rocks with the glasses and the duck feet and this time yes I have enjoyed. The waters were clear and full of fish of blue, yellow, grey and black tonality. It was magnificent, but of all the marvels, there was one that has left me stunned. There was a group of minuscule fish that had a form similar to another bigger one that roamed through the surroundings. In approaching me the minuscule fish grouped together and the big fish became suddenly nervous and the minuscule fish have gone towards the big one, the big one has opened the mouth and all the small ones have entered in his mouth. It has not eaten them, it only protected them, because after a while, when the mother trusted that I was not any danger it has opened the mouth and has left out all the small ones. In the afternoon we have gone towards Mzuzu (the capital of the North), stopping half way to buy different types of collars and bracelets thinking that we could sell them in Europe or Australia to finance part of our journey. Before nothing, in Mzuzu we have connected to Internet, which we did not do since Lilongwe (it is difficult to find cibercafés in Malawi). Afterwards we have looked for a place to spend the night. We have circulated through a neighbourhood on the outskirts and observed a house with a very pretty and wide garden. I have gone down to ask them if we could park and a woman has given me the approval although her husband was not home yet. Later, the husband knocked the door and invited us to enter his house. Alexandra remained in the car but I have accompanied him thankfully. Werton and Maria (like this were called) have explained me that the Malawians are hard working people, not as in Zambia, and they are well received to work even in South Africa. The work of the Malawians allows the country to have an acceptable economy, based on the export of tobacco, coffee and tea. On the other hand, the country does not need to import food and therefore, there is no one that passes hunger. But not everything is positive, they have also explained me that the secondary school and the universities are very expensive and few families can register their children to school. 27/10/2007:
Yesterday we go out of Mzuzu with rain. Alexandra told me that the landscape reminded her of Cameroon, and the truth is that it resembled: red and clayey earth, mountains, some forests... Although, on the contrary to Cameroon, the land was cultivated almost everywhere. We reached Chitimba crossing a port, of arid ground, from which a marvellous sight was enjoyed on the lake. In Chitimba we found the deviation towards the town of Livingstonia which we planned on visiting today. So, we spent the midday and the afternoon relaxing in a "Lodge" and left at night because the camping was too expensive. We parked a little further, close to a charming beach (as all around lake Malawi), and while i was captivated observing the waves of the lake, a man approached explaining that we had parked on his land. He thought that he would ask me for money but after asking us mutually about our families, he asked me whether i wanted to buy his land. I asked him the price and answered me that less than 2000€. A land in front of the beach to build a house and to have a big garden was magnificent! I said that when finishing the journey perhaps i would return, i would buy the land and would install myself (Alex also liked the idea), in any case I told him that if he sells it, he should not sell it for less than 3.000 €, and that in Europe, the same land would cost 300.000 € (he did not realised what would mean to have this quantity of money in Malawi). Today in the morning, Alexandra woke up with belly pain; I also, but not as much. Alex said that somebody had done voodoo to us because the day before yesterday i had killed accidentally a hen when crossing a village. Anyway, I thought that the belly ache was provoked by another hen, a cooked chicken that we had bought and eaten yesterday. Today in the morning it also rained, but even so, we have started to go towards Livingstonia, a town founded by missionaries at the end of the 19th century that today preserves a mysterious air of calmness due to its isolation. But this insulation has been the one that did not allowed us to arrive. The dirt track was in a very bad state, but we have kept threading it until we have found a sharp curve for the autocaravan. When trying to pass it the wheels have skated until we have knocked with the snout of the car on a rock unhooking the bumper slightly. Alexandra became hysterical; I have become again annoyed with her new crisis. I have gone out to walk a little, with the car blocked in the middle of road and when I have recovered the calmness I have decided to go back and lose also this visit (some days ago i had wanted to visit the magnificent island of Likoma, in the centre of lake Malawi, but the boats only pass twice a week and would have obliged us to spend 3 nights on the Island, which were out of our budget). We have followed the last town circulating towards the north, till Karonga, before arriving to the border with Tanzania. We have eaten near the beach in Karonga, but we both still had belly ache and were did not enjoy the lake, so we have decided to cross today the border, which we did without too many problems. We have only had a fright when the officers of Tanzania have informed Alexandra that she needed a visa. Alexandra became well annoyed explaining to them that in the embassy in Zambia they had assured her that the Romanians did not need the visa. luckily, after half an hour they have confirmed us that Alexandra did not need an entry visa and that she should not pay the 50 $ that they asked us. Tanzania Iringa (see on map) 29/10/2007:
If the lands of Malawi seemed very cultivated, those of Tanzania seemed overexploited. The earth was black coloured - fertile - and every corner, for where we went, was cultivated with different crops, among them tea. As in Malawi, the small villages, houses and people walking did not stop disappearing in any moment along the road. Anyway, reaching Mbeya, at the beginning of a big plain, the vegetation started to be dry and the lands to be useful only for grazing. In Mbeya, a big town without any interest, we took out money, to put diesel (the price keeps being maintained next to the euro/litre) and to buy a telephone sim card to be able to receive calls. Afterwards we returned to the road; towards the coast and Dar Es Salaam. The lands followed dry and like this have continued until today. Today in the morning, before entering in Iringa, I have visited (Alexandra has preferred to remain in the car again) the archaeological site of Ismila. About 60.000 years ago, in Ismila there was a lake where the wild animals approached to drink and where a group of men ambushed them with lances and other manufactured weapons with cut stone. Many of these weapons and utensils were lost in the water and around the area and nowadays, that the lake is dry, many have been recovered, although some still rest on the earth without anybody deigning to collect them or to classify them. Anyway the archaeological findings do not have any interest in comparison with the impressive clayey formations that there are behind the former lake. The waters have worked for millennia in the valley cutting fantastic walls and isolating impressive columns made of earth. It is worth of visiting it and Alexandra has regretted not coming when seeing the photos. After visiting Ismilla we have reached Iringa, a town built by the Germans at the end of 19th century as a bastion against the tribe Hehe. It’s been a lot of time since the Germans lost the war in Europe and they had to abandon Africa, but Iringa has preserved an European air, especially in its architecture and distribution. Wanting to know better Iringa, today in the afternoon I have done a long hike towards the rock of Gangilanga, a place where the head Mkwawa (one of the most rebel heads of the Hehe against the Germans) used to meditate. The landscape of rocks, high grass and small trees was impressive and I have kept walking (sweating and snorting) up to the summit of the mountain where a great view waited for me. Dar Es Salam (see on map) 31/10/2007:
Yesterday in the morning we walked a little through the market of Iringa, provided with fruits and vegetables of every type. It has been some time since we have seen a market so well provided. In the markets of the villages they sell only two or three types of products: tomatoes and onions, either onions and mango, or mango and cassava, or cassava and tomatoes... In the market of Iringa there were also spices and one should not miss the charming island of Zanzibar( that we will not visit because it would be too costly) that I remember from my previous visit about 4 years ago in Tanzania. In the afternoon we have turned to the road crossing arid plains, green mountains, valleys of baobabs and a nature reserve, where we have seen antelopes and baboons. It is a pity, but in Tanzania (and in Kenya) we will not visit any Nature Reserve, for they are 5 times costlier than in South Africa or Malawi and they are also out of our budget. As we advanced towards the East, we also kept passing sporadic masais by whom Alexandra remained fascinated, looking at them with eyes opened as oranges. She was captivated by their reddish clothes surrounding them from the shoulder, the masses hanging from the waist, the white sandals; their serene look and the paused walk, but especially she was astonished that they were relaxing in the bars drinking beers, they played pool, or they circulated through the road by bicycle or in motorcycle. Anyway, it does not seem that Alexandra wants to emulate the protagonist of the book and film "the white masai"; Alexandra has adapted more to Africa, but not up to these levels. Today in the morning we have arrived to Morogoro, a town without interest where we had to meet a boy from Couchsurfing (www.couchsurfing.com). We have been waiting for him but he didn’t come. So, at noon we have continued towards Dar Es Salaam, where we have arrived late in the night, in the middle of a terrible traffic chaos. Luckily, there we were being expected by another contact, an Australian of Asian origin that lives in a pretty apartment in Dar es Salam. 04/11/2007:
In Dar Es Salaam (Paradise of Peace, translated from the Arab) we have had quite a lot of time to relax in the house of Paul and also to work. I have the intention to present the diary of the African stage to a competition of histories of journeys (in Catalan) and have started to revise and to correct the writings from Morocco. Rereading the journal I have started to realise the time that we are travelling through African lands, with very few contact with the land where I grew up. But I do not miss it (nor I have missed it), probably due to the intensity of the journey in some moments and to the enjoyment in others. On the other hand, when rereading the journal also I have realised that lately I am writing a lot less than at first (during the journey in Europe i also wrote more than at the beginning of Africa). I have thought that maybe the experiences were more thrilling at first, but have ended up concluding that, I am writing less on experiences that are related to every day (where we have slept, where we have eaten, how we have loaded water...), but I am also writing with less detail on the friends that we make, on the cities that we visit, on the emotions... And that I would like to solve, although not necessarily in this chapter or day. Paul, as the majority of Asians, is a man (little older than I am) introvert and reticent to explaining his personal life. However I have a natural trend to ask about the personal privacy of the people (and to explain mine if they question me). Anyway, we have understood eachother very well and Paul has kept opening throughout the four days that we have been parked in front of his apartment, and finally I have found out that he worked for an ONG in Dar Es Salaam. In any case, Paul appeared much more open and enthusiastic talking about his projects and dreams: journeys to Barcelona and Latin America, writing of a book, photographic reports... One of the main interests of Paul was to eat and, although he always preferred cooking, the first time that we ate together it was in a restaurant in the old town of Dar Es Salaam. It was a popular restaurant, with crowds that occupied tables and the waiters running as mad people among them. After eating we went to take a tea in a "te shop", also popular and not very clean. Paul commented that the "te shops" are very popular in Asia and he felt as home. When finishing, Paul returned to work and we walked a little through the old town, with old and fallen buildings (some of the colonial period) next to new and modern buildings. Paul had explained that in two years the city had been modernised quite a lot but I, that i had visited it 4 years ago, did not see it too much changed. The atmosphere was quite Muslim, although one of the main icons of the city that we visited was a lutheran church in the front of the beach which was occupied with bars and very humble restaurants. More in the north, the beaches were more interesting and prettier, but not to swim were full of algae and in plunging with glasses and ducks I did not observe fish, but many hedgehogs. Paul wanted to cook something special on Saturday night and, in the morning I accompanied him to buy in the fish market of the city. The market boiled with movement. Under a shack, there were different low and long tables on which the people met to buy small quantities of fish through auction. To the outskirts, there were more crowds selling fish on plastic bags. In another shack, the cleaner vendors, with the biggest and prettiest fishes, were gathered together and were more persuasive with the possible white buyers. At dusk, while Paul was cooking part of the fish, a friend of Paul, came Ziggy, a German woman 50 years old who worked for the embassy of her country. While we dined the delicious fish that Paul had bought (squid, small fish and another big fish that he had boiled and afterwards submerged in a Soya sauce) Ziggy was explaining amusing anecdotes on the countries in which she had been working as a secretary of embassy. For example she explained that during the communist Poland, one day she complained in her flat out loud exclaiming: "Poland would be a magnificent country if there would be bath plugs", and the day after she found a plug for her bath in front of her door, as proof of the splendour of the country and of the secret services listening to her at all times. Although it’s been two years since she worked in Tanzania, but she did not have good opinions (the Nature Reserves were expensive and the country did not have other appeals apart from these, except for Zanzibar) and commented that as South Africa there is nothing. Today Sunday at night, Paul has cooked fish again; the same delicious menu of yesterday, but the invite has been different. We had invited Xaveria, a tanzanian friend of Paul that we had also gotten in touch with through Internet. But the evening party has not been as interesting as the previous one, basically because Alex was not in a good humour and she has had us all amusing looking at tv: "big brother Africa". Anyway, even if we have not maintained any interesting conversation with Xaveria, before leaving I have asked her for an interview and she has accepted. --- Xaveria thought that the main problem of the world is Aids because it’s uncontrollable. The people should act with less risk to stop the illness. The main problem of Tanzania is the laziness that they maintain without improving the country. Xaveria considers herself happy because she looks at the positive side of things. Bagamoyo (see on map) 07/11/2007:
On Monday in the morning we left towards Bagamoyo, a town in the north of Dar Es Salaam that I also had visited 4 years ago and where i had spent about 3 or 4 wonderful days. Anyway, at present I did not have the intention to stay so many days, I had already visited the people and Alex is still disappointed with Africa in general. While looking for a place where to park, we have crossed a street of former colonial houses half in ruin, until we arrived to the last hotel of the town, where we have asked the manager to park for the afternoon in exchange of taking some cool drinks. But afterwards I have returned to the manager and showing him some photos i have suggested to take some more photos of the hotel in exchange for being able to remain one or two nights camped there, and surprisingly he has accepted very thankful. We have spent the afternoon walking through the beach in front of the hotel where mangrove swamps grew and relaxing in the pool where Alexandra has done new breakthroughs of swimming. At night after looking a film in the computer I started to exclaim: - Alex, you should not worry. Please, do not worry. - What is happening? - she asked me. But I kept repeating the same words while i noticed in my interior how it grew a bad belly pain and general uneasiness. In the end I explained to her that i did not find myself well and I lay down in bed. I felt like vomiting and I deduced that the fruits and the milk that i had eaten before had provoked a cut of digestion for me, although Alex opined that the evil of belly was owed to the meat that i had eaten at noon, which she thought was not in very good state. In any case, the uneasiness kept being unbearable and in the end I decided to provoke myself the vomit to finish with the suffering. It has been so long since i did not vomit and i did not remember how to do it, but i kept trying, with pain, until in the end I managed to empty my stomach. Later it seemed that with every vomit the uneasiness decreased, but after the uneasiness increased, and I even had fever and tremors. I passed the night being delirious, imagining doors that were not closed and I was having discordant thoughts that did not let me sleep were (also Alexandra couldn’t slepp cause she was taking care of me). But finally, and maybe unfortunately, the dream overcame the frenzies. And I write unfortunately, because in the morning I realised that I had pooped on the bed - yes shit, and even if i repeat it, it does not mean that I am not ashamed. It had such liquid diarrhoea that if i was not awake it slipped out to the minimum distension. Alex woke up much loathed. But there was no other solution but to clean. In any case, i did not have pain of belly nor general uneasiness, but in order to not repeat the unpleasant anecdote we have directed ourselves to the town to buy an anti-diarrheic. But luckily there were no pharmacies in the town that sold medicines and they have advised us to go to a clinic where they sold medicines. There, we have paid a fee of 0,35 € for a consultation and the doctor has started to listen to my symptoms (I have not described the shit of the bed). I thought that he would prescribe me directly an antidiarrheic, but has recommended me to do some blood tests and of excrement and like this we did. After an hour, the doctor has called us again and communicated the result of the analysis to us: In only one drop of blood they had extracted from my finger they had counted up to twelve parasites of Malaria! For a part I have cheered up cause the name of the illness was terrifying enough as to justify my shit, but on the other hand I have thought that I did not find it bad enough to have such an illness, although it is also true that I was only one of the 400 million people that catch paludism every year and of which alone die 1 million, mainly children smaller than 5 years. On the way to the hotel of the previous night, I have taken the prescribed medication and have spent all the afternoon resting, assuring my sphincter with two doses of anti-diarrheic. Meanwhile, Alexandra has kept taking care of me and practiced in the pool. Afterwards I have woken up, have done some more photos through the hotel and have continued to sleep until today in the morning, when i already found myself quite well. We have decided to leave the hotel and to visit Bagamoyo a little, before continuing the journey towards the north. We have parked under a big tree near the old colonial germanic constructions and gone out to walk. Bagamoyo had been the port of "dhows" (small vessels ) one of the most important on the African east coast and was not up to ends of the 19th century that the Germans started to promote the use of the small port of Dar Es Salaam as better alternative for the big boats that arrived to the African east coast. Of all this glorious past some colonial constructions still resist (I suppose that the Africans prefer to build new homes than maintain an architecture that they do not know) and a few more Arab ruins in the south that we did not visit (i had visited them 4 years ago and they only had archaeological interest). Between the colonial buildings and the new African houses there were many shops of Tanzanian artists (many of them Rasta) with very interesting sculptures, distancing themselves from the typical and copied sculptures observed up to the moment. On the beach there were many small boats anchored in the sand (the tide was low) and among these there were different groups of people fixing the small boats, selling fish, and more in to the background boys that were putting algae together, as for eating them. Next to the beach there were some shacks of straw that generated a big place for frying small fish, probably to sell towards the interior of the country after some days. After the visit of Bagamoyo and recording a telephone conversation for Catalunya Radio we have taken a path of sand to save us 150 kilometres and to pass through Dar Es Salaam again. After about 2 hours and a half we have arrived to the asphalt, but Alexandra had started to have a strong headache and commented that she felt like vomiting. We have followed the road wondering whether Alex had also contracted malaria. When we have stopped to rest mid-afternoon, Alexandra has complained about the headache as being more intense. I have suggested to her to do a test of malaria (in Congo we had bought one) but she did not want for fear of the puncture in the finger, although finally she has accepted. We have been almost half an hour deciding whether she or I should make the puncture, and in the end I have done it , after that she cursed me for another half an hour with the finger pouring blood. Anyway, I have been able to collect some drops of her blood and have introduced them in the small Chinese laboratory of 3€ and after 20 minutes the test has indicated a negative result. Alexandra did not have malaria. And like this it had to be, because she has calmed down and the headache disappeared. Maybe Alexandra is a little hypochondriac, but the headache is also normal from the tension that has suffered because of my malaria and my shit. Tanga (see on map) 08/11/2007:
Alexandra woke up without headache and pleased, so, without too many delays we have followed the journey towards Tanga, but after few minutes of conduction Alex has started to scream as a hysterical and to cry as a small girl, while she verbalised something about an insect or bee. I thought that she had seen (or even touched) some horrible insect, but as she did not stop crying I have stopped the car and then she has been able to explain me among weeps that a bee (or some type of wasp) had entered for the sleeve of the shirt and had bitten her two or three times in the shoulder. And indeed, the insect was moribund on the window. I have put a little anti-allergic gel on the shoulder and once she has calmed down we have followed the stretch up to Tanga. Tanga is the third biggest city of Tanzania, but in spite of this ranking, Tanga is a quite calm city of colonial atmosphere. And walking through this city, one can imagine that Tanzania is one of the countries less urbanised of Africa. Tanga possesses a park that borders the coast with a good sight on the sea, the port and a next island. About four years ago the surrealist image of almost ten boats oxidised and sunk next to the port had surprised me, but today it has surprised me not to see them. We have followed the avenue through the centre of the town, under the shifting boards of colonial buildings dated at the beginnings of XX century preserved but without too much interest. The avenue finished we have decided to arrive today to Kenya, although before we have used up the last shilings: we have eaten three big fruit salads (the three for 0,90 €), we have bought coca-cola for the road (the three for 0,70 €), some sandals of skin for Alexandra, and other small details. Next we have followed the road towards the north of the city that immediately has turned into a track of sand. It seems strange that Tanzania was linked with Kenya by a track with a speed limit of 30 km/hour. Mid-afternoon we have arrived to the border of Tanzania with Kenya, crossing it without too many problems. We already crossed since South Africa four countries and had not arrived yet to the half of the road to go out from the continent (in East africa, the equator passes near Nairobi). And in a certain way I already feel ready to go out of black Africa and to continue knowing new cultures. I have the sensation that I have gotten the chance to discover the different African cultures very superficially, but my journey does not stop being superficial and general, with the will of enriching myself only a little from each of the main cultures of the world. And Africa has already complied with its goal, and I yearn for new treasures. On the other hand, I have probably lost part of the illusion to enter in Tanzania and Kenya, countries that I had already visited four years ago and that do not surprise me any more as the previous countries. Perhaps it is that, black Africa stopped surprising me and for some weeks now I have the illusion focused on Ethiopia, Egypt and Middle East, regions that I entrust will surprise me again and enrich my knowledge. Kenya Mombasa (see on map) 09/11/2007:
We have reached mid-morning Diani Beach, a touristic beach in the South of Mombasa with banks (where we have been able to take out money), trades (where we have bought groceries, despite being quite expensive) and many luxury hotels occupying all the length of the coast. Diani Beach is a preferred destinacion for the European tour operators, but it has not been for us (and even less for Alexandra). In Diani Beach there was no bar or small hotel near the beach to relax. We have only found a small road between two hotels where we have been able to park, and while I was going to swim Alexandra has stayed in the car crying and screaming that she did not like the place and that she could not relax, not even to walk the beach, nor anything. In spite of the bad humour of Alexandra, I have been able to enjoy of my snorkeling observing some very interesting goldfish, although I have not been able to arrive to the corals, because the tide pushed me towards the coast and because in a given moment I have seen myself surrounded by small transparent jellyfishes that have frightened me, making me return to the beach. In the car, Alexandra followed with the bad humour and realising that we could hardly enjoy Diani beach we have decided to reach Mombasa. Mombasa is a city settled on an island, connected to earth by two bridges in the West and in the North and by ferry in the South, from where we came. When arriving to the ferry we have seen the listings of prices in a big mural and among them the price of "cars of up to 6 meters: 0,60€". When arriving to the ticket window I have delivered the marked quantity but the collector has told me that the price was the double. And here it has started a sour discussion, because the collector wanted to price us as lorry and I told him that the autocaravan was not a lorry. I did not want to lower of the donkey and "to be tricked" for being white ( even if it was for 0,60 €), but the ones responsible for the ferry neither were ready to give up, and meanwhile, the police has arrived because I was blocking the crossing of other vehicles. In the end, after half an hour of arguments and of shouts, a policeman has taken me separately and explained to me: "See, you do not understand Swahili, but the people here - we were surrounded by people - are talking very badly about you, say that you do not want to abide by our laws and that you behave like some new coloniser". Afterwards the same policeman has shown me as other vehicles smaller than mine (pick-ups, vans, 4x4...) they were also paying amounts similar to what they wanted to charge me. And with these two arguments I have convinced myself of making a mistake, that if in the wall it had the typification of autocaravan then i would pay the same as a lorry or more. So, still annoyed but abiding by the reason I have paid the claimed amount and have returned to the car where Alexandra kept insulting the blacks accusing them to be to the only ones responsible for their underdevelopment. The humour of Alexandra has changed radically when in Mombasa we have met Sebastian, a Polish boy who three months ago started to manage a company in Kenya and who has a pretty house with pool where we have been able to park the autocaravan. Alexandra was euphoric of refinding a bit of Europe or of development to be able to be relaxed. And making use of the joy and energy of Alexandra, we have gone out at night to take some beers to two sites of Mombasa with Sebastian, which has confirmed to us that in Kenya he flirts a lot, and if he wanted, every night could leave with a different black girl. I had already experienced the same four years ago, when in Mombasa I was with three different girls, without asking me for money in exchange, only asking me for the opportunity of stealing my heart from me to run away towards Europe. But that does not only happen with the white men, by the streets and sites, white women are also seen in excess of age or of kilos, accompanied by young kenyan boys. What I do not know, is why the girls of Kenya have this predisposition to the sex with whites (maybe more that in Zambia) and in other countries as Tanzania, the behaviour is radically different. After that an attractive black girl asked us to seat with the three of us (we have said her no) I have thought that if Alexandra were not with me, my behaviour in Kenya would be very different. Afterwards I have valued if our relation had future, especially thinking the problems that Alexandra has to adapt to the countries that we visit (or to adapt to my way of traveling), again. But finaly I have concluded again that, hardly i would find a girl with whom i would have less problems than with Alexandra (or which could adapt better to me); and that if we surpass this journey, very probably they will not exist again moments as critical as those that we have passed; and that deep down I love her and that it is not difficult to imagine a future with her. ‹ Previous (14/09/2007) MONTH Next (2007-11-13)› ‹ Previous (2007-09-28 - Botswana) COUNTRY Next (2007-10-16 - Malawi)› |
|
