PART 1
I had known for some time that I wanted to demarcate the occasion of my 40th birthday in a special way and I knew that to be true to me- the celebration would need to be an adventure. The trip took all sorts of shapes and formats along the planning process - I had (as usual) started way way up high with an extravagant journey that involved visiting many loved ones along the way and having little mini celebrations at every stop. I had imagined as well, doing a dive trip-or possibly skydiving- something to get the old ticker ticking! I turned to my own 'dream list' and explored ideas of a hot air balloon over Cappadocia or learning to surf in Indonesia and on and on- but many options were proving to be too much for the time frame or pocket book or the weather wasn't the best in January. I had considered Tanzania early on as Zanzibar had been on my radar for some time- but I shunned it as I wasn't looking for a laying on the beach vacation and the idea of exploring Tanzania mainland seemed way out of reach. We settled on Sri Lanka- and excitedly so- it seemed to have everything! Rich culture, amazing historical sites, romantic looking train travel, jungle, wildlife, beaches- it was perfect! We bought the guide book and familiarized ourselves with the names of places- chose a basic route and watched a tonne of other peoples wonderful travel videos on Vimeo. A couple of weeks before the trip (and we fly standby so no flights had been booked as yet) I was talking to Mum and she asked me "do you think this is the best time to be visiting Sri Lanka? I think they are having some bad weather" Not wanting to have my plans ruined I brushed the comment off and said it was fine. Then I went and googled the weather...ehem well...monsoon rains and massive mudslides had displaced thousands of people, train tracks were covered in many areas and this certainly would put a major dent in a lot of our plans.
...back to the drawing board.
Feeling somewhat rushed now- we revisited the idea of Tanzania. Starting with flights- it looked easy KLM the whole way. Read as much as I could online and things started to feel good- so I traded in my Sri Lanka guide book for the Tanzania book and it was decided!
We began our journey on January 6th - got stuck in Toronto one night due to weather and arrived in Kilamanjaro Intl Airport late on the eve of the 8th. Juma- the driver from our hotel was there to meet us and he delivered us to The Protea Aishi Machame (which is a Marriott property) where we were welcomed, enjoyed a couple of cold beers and went to bed.
The morning of the 9th was my birthday and I opened our windows to discover monkeys in the trees right outside! It was such a magical moment! We needed a day to relax and so we spent the day by the pool, sunning,swimming testing the local brews and bites and it was perfect! We had the entire place to ourselves- not sure if it was low season or if people had gone out early for Safaris etc but either way it was lovely.
At dinner that evening we were enjoying a lovely bottle of bubbly and some fine conversation with our server Alex and sharing our plans for the next couple of days.
I think he thought we were never going to make it on our own with our plans to travel as the locals do- and he offered to come with us to the next town to be sure we got on the right buses. We were thrown off a little by his kind gesture and of course in the back of my mind I start questioning if he is honest, good, is this a bad decision- what would he want from this etc. It's a shame that all those thoughts have to be present as we came to learn that Alex is a very kind and caring young man who lost his father early and had to help raise his younger siblings. He dreams of going to the local college to study to be a guide. As promised he met us the next morning just off hotel property (and had asked us not to mention anything to any staff so he wouldn't get in trouble for not allowing the hotel to provide us with 'pricy' transfers).
Up until this point we had been protected inside the walls of our cush hotel but now-- we were in it. Standing on the side of a hot and dusty two lane road- backed by lush jungle. It was Saturday morning, market day, and so there was a lot of activity on this little road- women in brightly coloured clothing walking along carrying large bags of rice or giant stalks of green bananas on their heads. We witnessed probably a dozen near head on collisions between vehicles trying to pass each other.
We noticed Alex randomly attempting to flag down certain passing vehicles- they were 9 seater vans called Dalla Dalla's and they are the local taxi. I noticed right away that they were jam packed - some with items balancing on top and many so full that people were hanging off of the outside with their arms wrapped in under the door frame through the windows. I started getting a little nervous wondering where our backpacks would go and how the hell we would ever get a seat in one- especially on this very busy market day.
I suppose I haven't been clear about exactly where we were going- have I? We were near a town called Moshi which is basically at the foot of Mt Kilimanjaro in the northern most part of Tanzania almost on the border of Kenya. Our plans were to take the local transit to a town called Karatu which was 220km away. Karatu is the town that sits just outside the gates of the Ngorongoro Crater which is where we had decided to go and piece together a DIY safari. We knew that it was possible and had thought we might try and rent a vehicle and guide there to keep costs down rather then book a big expensive package deal- this was keeping with our adventure theme. We had chosen a guest house from the Lonely Planet guide that had used the words "sparkling clean" to describe the cheap and cheerful rooms. So we had a loose plan and we were ok with that.
Before I could blink Alex had flagged down a Dalla Dalla that apparently had room for the 3 of us and 2 backpacks which were quickly whisked away and into the back of the van (much to my dismay- which there was no time for)
"get in! get in!" was what I was being told... Matt and Alex behind me...there wasn't an inch of space at the door frame or inside any semblance of sense in the chaotic mess of my mind in that moment- so one foot up and in i went. Matt would tell me later that I literally disappeared. Somehow there was a small pocket of space beyond the people that had been crowding the door and i grabbed a hold of the bars (like sturdy curtain rods) that were above the windows and held on as Matt and Alex's hands were all I could see wrapped in from the outside. I placed my palm over Matts knuckles and pressed as hard as I could - hoping it might help keep him there...
PART 2
...it was hot inside the van and as I stood there hunched over and keeping my balance I was worrying about whether or not I should worry about my ass in someone's face, how long this was going to last and whether or not we would see our bags again. Matt's death grip on the door jam came loose and his hand disappeared - we had stopped and just as quickly as it all happened it was over. Our bags were on our backs and the Dalla Dalla was off honking at a dog to get out of the way. The dog was limping and of course my eyes followed it as it made its way from too close to traffic to the opposite side of the road sniffing around and eating bits of...bits of...my gaze moved up to the concrete slab just behind the dog it was attached to a small delapidated cement building with a sort of store front and a wooden framed window with hanging meat and at the very end a man with a machete chop, chop, chopping on a very large tree stump. The dog had made its way up onto that slab of concrete but was being vaguely shooed away by another machete man who was leaned over struggling to cut something from what looked like a giant wet towel that had been carelessly left on the bathroom floor. My brain was on sensory overload that smell of burning was in the air- what are they burning...brush- garbage I don't know but I have smelled it often in my travels and its odd familiarity was welcoming. We were standing on the shady side of the road and there were a lot of people around us waiting. Men on really cool motorcycles sitting around socializing with each other- women with their shopping and babies wrapped in colourful cloth and cradled into their backs it was hot but most were dressed for snow- touques and puffy jackets. We were all standing together in the red dirt on the side of that road waiting to move along. I poked at Matt and pointed to the dog and the man with the machete who was moving around that wet towel "what is that? what's he doing?"
"its a cow hide babe- they probably just killed it right there"
My eyes scanned along the building again and it all made a lot of disgusting sense. Super thankful I had taken my sweet ass time at breakfast that morning...I unzipped the front pocket of my bag, reached in for my phone so I could catch some images but as I raised it ready to go- I heard a very stern angry voice yell "NO! No picture" So...I have no pictures but that little building in its jungle setting on that roadside is burned into my memory and I wish I was an artist because I would render a sketch or painting of it if I could.
Alex had told us that this was a better place to catch a ride to "the junction" where we would then catch another bus to the town of Arusha to the bus station. I had read about the Arusha bus station in the LP here is what it says :
"The bus station is intimidatingly chaotic...and a popular haunt for flycatchers and touts..."
Yes, I'd read it but I felt confident that I could handle it- I mean I'd done the SE Asia stuff and faced a lot of touts back in the day- I was prepared with my sunglasses and knew not to make eye contact as Chris Messervey and I had learned while in Cambodia. I was steeling myself for Arusha and also for that next ride to the junction. This time Matt and I had seats on a tiny wooden backward facing bench that had been secured to the back of the drivers seat. I was beside the door and Alex was hunched over us along with several other people. My window seat afforded me quite a view. Mostly of the young man who was clearly in charge of operating the door at the several stops along the way- each time he would jump out- rush people in and then run alongside the van until the last second when he would jump back in and slide the door closed- he was skinny and he was wearing an old beat up Bob Marley shirt that was clinging to his chest as his breathe would slowly return to normal. The sun was on full blast now and the light pouring in the window was falling across him and I could see all the dust from the road in the little hairs on his arm and in his eyelashes. The scenery outside had opened up from thick jungle into farmland and then suddenly I saw Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance, it was breathtaking.
The Junction as it turns out was where the little side road from our hotel met the main Highway and so we ran across and in no time at all Alex had flagged a safari vehicle down and we 3 were on our way to make this 75km journey in style. Matt would have me tell you that it was a brand new extended Toyota Landcruiser that had all the fancy trimmings like a built in cooler and usb ports. There were 3 guys up front- the driver and his pals and us. It was roomy and as every good safari vehicle should- it had a lot of windows so the views were great.
We spent the time talking with Alex, going over a few questions and getting to know him better. After his father had passed away he worked a lot of jobs that he hated to help his Mother raise the other children. He worked as a porter carrying things up and down Kili for tourists and he also worked in the mines pulling Tanzanite out of the earth. I was and am still blown away that this man would take his Saturday morning to help us for no other reason then to potentially get a tip out of the deal. As it goes- in hindsight Matt and I would never have been able to do that on our own- we would have gotten to Arusha for certain but for a lot more than the few dollars we were spending doing it this way.(and a lot less adventure) Alex didn't think we were crazy after all- he said "I think you guys have a good idea to do it this way"
When the farmland gave way to buildings, storefronts, people in more urban clothing, dirt sidewalks and small green parks I knew we had arrived in Arusha and the relaxation I'd allowed myself to have was gone. I followed Matt and Alex down the sidewalk taking it all in- the Muslim call to prayer was audible, the traffic was heavier and someone was burning a pile of garbage just there next to the sidewalk on a patch of grass. We got to the bus station and it was as chaotic as expected there was so much action, everyone busy with their tasks- vendors selling, passengers finding buses, bus drivers piling and tying down peoples belongings to the roofs. Alex became concerned with our plans beyond the bus station and like a little mother hen began questioning us:
"Where are you staying in Karatu?"
"The Vera Inn"
"Do they have a room for you?"
"I don't know" I felt like a jackass...
"I will call them"
We gave him some money to put credit on his phone and waited while he spoke in Swahili.
"Ok- they have a room for you and they are expecting you"
He ushered us to our bus and it began to dawn on me that this was it- this was where we said goodbye to our Alex our safety net and security blanket...all of a sudden I had a rush of a million questions I hadn't even considered. We pushed our way through people and up the stairs onto the bus it was hot and crowded- Alex made his way down the aisle with us following him- he made an old man get up from his seat and move so that Matt and I could have 2 seats together. People were fussing about putting bags in the overhead, a man with a very sweaty upper lip and a fistful of shillings and bus tickets was yelling - we refused to give up our bags and stuffed them onto the floor between the seats at our feet and sat quickly. Alex hovered over us from the aisle:
"How do we know where to get off the bus???" i asked him
"you will know- it's a major stop"
he then turned his attention to someone behind us-
"Ok I talked to the girl behind you she is a student and speaks English- she will make sure that you get off in Karatu"
I have done a lot of independent travel and had been in a lot of overwhelming and panicky situations in the past and up and until this moment I had been feeling confident but suddenly as I sat cramped up in that seat with my feet balancing on my backpack and my knees up closer to my chest then I would have liked- I reached my breaking point. With all the sights, smells and sounds my senses snapped a little and I could feel my heart beat quicken- I grabbed Alex's arm and pulled him close to my face:
"Are we safe???" my eyes felt as big as saucers
"Yes, very safe" he said calmly.
We said our goodbyes to Alex, thanked him with our hearts and a little money and watched him make his way back down the aisle of the bus and cross paths with 2 very tall Maasai Warriors who took seats in the back. Out of my window there were vendors with baskets of snacks and other things for sale - vendors selling hot meals and as I spotted a plate of rice and beans I realized I was hungry. I slid my window open and without needing to gesture for anyone a man with a giant basket was right there- we decided on some amazing looking cashew nuts and some chocolate biscuits- paid with shillings and closed the window.
Just as I turned to Matt there was a tapping on my window and I wondered if I had not paid enough- but it was Alex...he had brought the bus driver over to our window to show us and tell me that the driver knew who we were and knew to be sure we got off in Karatu.
Angel Alex. We still keep in touch on WhatsApp almost every day.
Our bus pulled out of the lot slowly like a whale that had eaten far too many fish - and Matt and I held hands we were on our own now- born into Africa with our trusty LP at the helm...and our "cash nuts" for sustenance.
I took a few of the chocolate cookies out of the package and shoved them between the seat and the window to the little girl behind me...better pay up front- we just might need her ;)
PART 3 or "Caught Up in Super Sticky FlyTape" aka "When I Wonder Why I've Been Eating Mr. Noodles for the Last 2 Weeks...I Remember Karatu."
There is much to be said about travelling as the locals do- I mean sure- we could have hired a private vehicle to take us in air conditioned comfort to Karatu but we would have never discovered that they play the entire Bob Marley "Legend" album on the bus and we would never have witnessed the toothless elderly Maasai women (who sat in the aisle on a water jug with a pillow for 90 minutes) get kicked off the bus (presumably for non-payment) and wander off into the fields...I wouldn't have felt the excitement of the little girl behind me as she poked me through the seats and urged me to "look look" out the window- to see the baboons playing near the side of the road as we climbed the hill overlooking Lake Manyara. No, this type of travel is not of universal interest and it asks you to go way outside your comfort zone. Over the next couple of days Matt and I would be forced into trying to understand our role in these challenging socio-economic circumstances we were witnessing.
As our bus turned into the lot in Karatu- I started to get jittery as there were a lot of people waiting there - many of whom I am sure were touts and flycatchers...and since we were the only white people on the bus we were for certain heavily targeted. Having had some experience in the past with touts in my travels I had shared with Matt that the best way to deal with this is 'don't make eye contact, don't say a word and walk with confidence like we know exactly where we are going"
We jumped off the bus and beelined it for the main road. Haha! We did it...we were so smart we got away with no hassles. (Insert proverbial high-five) Shit, now what- we had no clue where we were except for on the side of the road in a shantytown with a red dirt road and no clue where the Vera Inn was.
"Excuse me...excuse me can I talk to you for a minute?" a young local man was hanging out the window of a beat up Toyota pickup. I told Matt not to talk to him "He's a tout babe...just keep walking" but Matt being the kinder of us in this situation stopped to talk with him. He looked to be about 25, with long dreaded hair and tattoos (basically an African Matt)
He asked where we were going and where we were staying and what our plans were. Matt admitted we had no plans... which I am sure was music to his ears.
”Are you going on a Safari?” he asked
”Well yes, but we are good we are going to get a vehicle ourselves” Matt said with confidence
”Ok- well that is what I do- I take people on Safari so if you need anything maybe I can see you later- where are you staying?”
Matt let him know where we were going and he pointed us in the right direction and said maybe he would come by there later.
We made our way slowly, stopped to buy a fresh pineapple from a vendor that he cut and bagged for us right there and realized we would need to ask again for further directions. Matt approached a Safari vehicle that was pulled over on the street and as he leaned in the window to ask directions…a young man crossed the road and became involved in the conversation. I recognized him from the white cross he wore around his neck. He had been in the vehicle at the bus stop with “African Matt”! Were they following us???
”Flycatcher” is a term I had not been familiar with until after we returned home- but knowing now- I would most certainly refer to the men we encountered in Karatu as such- and even in this moment as I write- I wonder if that was Alex as well…
A ‘flycatcher’ is a person who befriends a tourist in order to help them get a good price and to direct them to particular companies who must pay some kind of commission for the found business. They know what time the bus arrives in the town and they wait- they are experienced in ‘reading’ tourists if they have guide-books in hand or a map they know it is potential business. They are friendly and helpful and try to build trust- they know how to read answers from tourists too- so when we said we knew where we were going and that we were doing a safari but didn’t need help- they knew we were lying and so they followed us from a distance.
When the Safari driver gave Matt specific directions to our Inn- Mr. White Cross walked with us and said he would take us there- we politely declined but in (what we eventually learned to be) typical Tanzanian style he ignored our no thank-yous and just kept guiding us- claiming to coincidentally work for the very Inn we had chosen…
We twisted and turned down side streets a few blocks off the main road, found the place- secured a not as much sparkling room as might have been expected but decent and perfectly ok. We inquired about renting a safari vehicle for the following day and found ourselves outside in the front yard sitting at a plastic table and chair set with the man from Vera Inn as Mr. White Cross hovered. He asked us a few questions about what we were looking for and within minutes…African Matt was standing at the table.
I had to laugh inside even though I hate being ‘taken’ what a solid team they had been. We had definitely been trapped in a pretty little jar with lots of green grass in the bottom…and now they were poking holes in the lid for us so we could breathe. The prices they were asking for were just a tiny bit more than we had expected – and after a solid check of the vehicle and making doubly sure that this was in fact the exact vehicle we would be taken out in (as a common scam is the ol’ bait and switch) we shook on it and said we would see him before sunrise the following morning so he could take us into the Ngorongoro Crater for our Safari.
I had known for some time that I wanted to demarcate the occasion of my 40th birthday in a special way and I knew that to be true to me- the celebration would need to be an adventure. The trip took all sorts of shapes and formats along the planning process - I had (as usual) started way way up high with an extravagant journey that involved visiting many loved ones along the way and having little mini celebrations at every stop. I had imagined as well, doing a dive trip-or possibly skydiving- something to get the old ticker ticking! I turned to my own 'dream list' and explored ideas of a hot air balloon over Cappadocia or learning to surf in Indonesia and on and on- but many options were proving to be too much for the time frame or pocket book or the weather wasn't the best in January. I had considered Tanzania early on as Zanzibar had been on my radar for some time- but I shunned it as I wasn't looking for a laying on the beach vacation and the idea of exploring Tanzania mainland seemed way out of reach. We settled on Sri Lanka- and excitedly so- it seemed to have everything! Rich culture, amazing historical sites, romantic looking train travel, jungle, wildlife, beaches- it was perfect! We bought the guide book and familiarized ourselves with the names of places- chose a basic route and watched a tonne of other peoples wonderful travel videos on Vimeo. A couple of weeks before the trip (and we fly standby so no flights had been booked as yet) I was talking to Mum and she asked me "do you think this is the best time to be visiting Sri Lanka? I think they are having some bad weather" Not wanting to have my plans ruined I brushed the comment off and said it was fine. Then I went and googled the weather...ehem well...monsoon rains and massive mudslides had displaced thousands of people, train tracks were covered in many areas and this certainly would put a major dent in a lot of our plans.
...back to the drawing board.
Feeling somewhat rushed now- we revisited the idea of Tanzania. Starting with flights- it looked easy KLM the whole way. Read as much as I could online and things started to feel good- so I traded in my Sri Lanka guide book for the Tanzania book and it was decided!
We began our journey on January 6th - got stuck in Toronto one night due to weather and arrived in Kilamanjaro Intl Airport late on the eve of the 8th. Juma- the driver from our hotel was there to meet us and he delivered us to The Protea Aishi Machame (which is a Marriott property) where we were welcomed, enjoyed a couple of cold beers and went to bed.
The morning of the 9th was my birthday and I opened our windows to discover monkeys in the trees right outside! It was such a magical moment! We needed a day to relax and so we spent the day by the pool, sunning,swimming testing the local brews and bites and it was perfect! We had the entire place to ourselves- not sure if it was low season or if people had gone out early for Safaris etc but either way it was lovely.
At dinner that evening we were enjoying a lovely bottle of bubbly and some fine conversation with our server Alex and sharing our plans for the next couple of days.
I think he thought we were never going to make it on our own with our plans to travel as the locals do- and he offered to come with us to the next town to be sure we got on the right buses. We were thrown off a little by his kind gesture and of course in the back of my mind I start questioning if he is honest, good, is this a bad decision- what would he want from this etc. It's a shame that all those thoughts have to be present as we came to learn that Alex is a very kind and caring young man who lost his father early and had to help raise his younger siblings. He dreams of going to the local college to study to be a guide. As promised he met us the next morning just off hotel property (and had asked us not to mention anything to any staff so he wouldn't get in trouble for not allowing the hotel to provide us with 'pricy' transfers).
Up until this point we had been protected inside the walls of our cush hotel but now-- we were in it. Standing on the side of a hot and dusty two lane road- backed by lush jungle. It was Saturday morning, market day, and so there was a lot of activity on this little road- women in brightly coloured clothing walking along carrying large bags of rice or giant stalks of green bananas on their heads. We witnessed probably a dozen near head on collisions between vehicles trying to pass each other.
We noticed Alex randomly attempting to flag down certain passing vehicles- they were 9 seater vans called Dalla Dalla's and they are the local taxi. I noticed right away that they were jam packed - some with items balancing on top and many so full that people were hanging off of the outside with their arms wrapped in under the door frame through the windows. I started getting a little nervous wondering where our backpacks would go and how the hell we would ever get a seat in one- especially on this very busy market day.
I suppose I haven't been clear about exactly where we were going- have I? We were near a town called Moshi which is basically at the foot of Mt Kilimanjaro in the northern most part of Tanzania almost on the border of Kenya. Our plans were to take the local transit to a town called Karatu which was 220km away. Karatu is the town that sits just outside the gates of the Ngorongoro Crater which is where we had decided to go and piece together a DIY safari. We knew that it was possible and had thought we might try and rent a vehicle and guide there to keep costs down rather then book a big expensive package deal- this was keeping with our adventure theme. We had chosen a guest house from the Lonely Planet guide that had used the words "sparkling clean" to describe the cheap and cheerful rooms. So we had a loose plan and we were ok with that.
Before I could blink Alex had flagged down a Dalla Dalla that apparently had room for the 3 of us and 2 backpacks which were quickly whisked away and into the back of the van (much to my dismay- which there was no time for)
"get in! get in!" was what I was being told... Matt and Alex behind me...there wasn't an inch of space at the door frame or inside any semblance of sense in the chaotic mess of my mind in that moment- so one foot up and in i went. Matt would tell me later that I literally disappeared. Somehow there was a small pocket of space beyond the people that had been crowding the door and i grabbed a hold of the bars (like sturdy curtain rods) that were above the windows and held on as Matt and Alex's hands were all I could see wrapped in from the outside. I placed my palm over Matts knuckles and pressed as hard as I could - hoping it might help keep him there...
PART 2
...it was hot inside the van and as I stood there hunched over and keeping my balance I was worrying about whether or not I should worry about my ass in someone's face, how long this was going to last and whether or not we would see our bags again. Matt's death grip on the door jam came loose and his hand disappeared - we had stopped and just as quickly as it all happened it was over. Our bags were on our backs and the Dalla Dalla was off honking at a dog to get out of the way. The dog was limping and of course my eyes followed it as it made its way from too close to traffic to the opposite side of the road sniffing around and eating bits of...bits of...my gaze moved up to the concrete slab just behind the dog it was attached to a small delapidated cement building with a sort of store front and a wooden framed window with hanging meat and at the very end a man with a machete chop, chop, chopping on a very large tree stump. The dog had made its way up onto that slab of concrete but was being vaguely shooed away by another machete man who was leaned over struggling to cut something from what looked like a giant wet towel that had been carelessly left on the bathroom floor. My brain was on sensory overload that smell of burning was in the air- what are they burning...brush- garbage I don't know but I have smelled it often in my travels and its odd familiarity was welcoming. We were standing on the shady side of the road and there were a lot of people around us waiting. Men on really cool motorcycles sitting around socializing with each other- women with their shopping and babies wrapped in colourful cloth and cradled into their backs it was hot but most were dressed for snow- touques and puffy jackets. We were all standing together in the red dirt on the side of that road waiting to move along. I poked at Matt and pointed to the dog and the man with the machete who was moving around that wet towel "what is that? what's he doing?"
"its a cow hide babe- they probably just killed it right there"
My eyes scanned along the building again and it all made a lot of disgusting sense. Super thankful I had taken my sweet ass time at breakfast that morning...I unzipped the front pocket of my bag, reached in for my phone so I could catch some images but as I raised it ready to go- I heard a very stern angry voice yell "NO! No picture" So...I have no pictures but that little building in its jungle setting on that roadside is burned into my memory and I wish I was an artist because I would render a sketch or painting of it if I could.
Alex had told us that this was a better place to catch a ride to "the junction" where we would then catch another bus to the town of Arusha to the bus station. I had read about the Arusha bus station in the LP here is what it says :
"The bus station is intimidatingly chaotic...and a popular haunt for flycatchers and touts..."
Yes, I'd read it but I felt confident that I could handle it- I mean I'd done the SE Asia stuff and faced a lot of touts back in the day- I was prepared with my sunglasses and knew not to make eye contact as Chris Messervey and I had learned while in Cambodia. I was steeling myself for Arusha and also for that next ride to the junction. This time Matt and I had seats on a tiny wooden backward facing bench that had been secured to the back of the drivers seat. I was beside the door and Alex was hunched over us along with several other people. My window seat afforded me quite a view. Mostly of the young man who was clearly in charge of operating the door at the several stops along the way- each time he would jump out- rush people in and then run alongside the van until the last second when he would jump back in and slide the door closed- he was skinny and he was wearing an old beat up Bob Marley shirt that was clinging to his chest as his breathe would slowly return to normal. The sun was on full blast now and the light pouring in the window was falling across him and I could see all the dust from the road in the little hairs on his arm and in his eyelashes. The scenery outside had opened up from thick jungle into farmland and then suddenly I saw Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance, it was breathtaking.
The Junction as it turns out was where the little side road from our hotel met the main Highway and so we ran across and in no time at all Alex had flagged a safari vehicle down and we 3 were on our way to make this 75km journey in style. Matt would have me tell you that it was a brand new extended Toyota Landcruiser that had all the fancy trimmings like a built in cooler and usb ports. There were 3 guys up front- the driver and his pals and us. It was roomy and as every good safari vehicle should- it had a lot of windows so the views were great.
We spent the time talking with Alex, going over a few questions and getting to know him better. After his father had passed away he worked a lot of jobs that he hated to help his Mother raise the other children. He worked as a porter carrying things up and down Kili for tourists and he also worked in the mines pulling Tanzanite out of the earth. I was and am still blown away that this man would take his Saturday morning to help us for no other reason then to potentially get a tip out of the deal. As it goes- in hindsight Matt and I would never have been able to do that on our own- we would have gotten to Arusha for certain but for a lot more than the few dollars we were spending doing it this way.(and a lot less adventure) Alex didn't think we were crazy after all- he said "I think you guys have a good idea to do it this way"
When the farmland gave way to buildings, storefronts, people in more urban clothing, dirt sidewalks and small green parks I knew we had arrived in Arusha and the relaxation I'd allowed myself to have was gone. I followed Matt and Alex down the sidewalk taking it all in- the Muslim call to prayer was audible, the traffic was heavier and someone was burning a pile of garbage just there next to the sidewalk on a patch of grass. We got to the bus station and it was as chaotic as expected there was so much action, everyone busy with their tasks- vendors selling, passengers finding buses, bus drivers piling and tying down peoples belongings to the roofs. Alex became concerned with our plans beyond the bus station and like a little mother hen began questioning us:
"Where are you staying in Karatu?"
"The Vera Inn"
"Do they have a room for you?"
"I don't know" I felt like a jackass...
"I will call them"
We gave him some money to put credit on his phone and waited while he spoke in Swahili.
"Ok- they have a room for you and they are expecting you"
He ushered us to our bus and it began to dawn on me that this was it- this was where we said goodbye to our Alex our safety net and security blanket...all of a sudden I had a rush of a million questions I hadn't even considered. We pushed our way through people and up the stairs onto the bus it was hot and crowded- Alex made his way down the aisle with us following him- he made an old man get up from his seat and move so that Matt and I could have 2 seats together. People were fussing about putting bags in the overhead, a man with a very sweaty upper lip and a fistful of shillings and bus tickets was yelling - we refused to give up our bags and stuffed them onto the floor between the seats at our feet and sat quickly. Alex hovered over us from the aisle:
"How do we know where to get off the bus???" i asked him
"you will know- it's a major stop"
he then turned his attention to someone behind us-
"Ok I talked to the girl behind you she is a student and speaks English- she will make sure that you get off in Karatu"
I have done a lot of independent travel and had been in a lot of overwhelming and panicky situations in the past and up and until this moment I had been feeling confident but suddenly as I sat cramped up in that seat with my feet balancing on my backpack and my knees up closer to my chest then I would have liked- I reached my breaking point. With all the sights, smells and sounds my senses snapped a little and I could feel my heart beat quicken- I grabbed Alex's arm and pulled him close to my face:
"Are we safe???" my eyes felt as big as saucers
"Yes, very safe" he said calmly.
We said our goodbyes to Alex, thanked him with our hearts and a little money and watched him make his way back down the aisle of the bus and cross paths with 2 very tall Maasai Warriors who took seats in the back. Out of my window there were vendors with baskets of snacks and other things for sale - vendors selling hot meals and as I spotted a plate of rice and beans I realized I was hungry. I slid my window open and without needing to gesture for anyone a man with a giant basket was right there- we decided on some amazing looking cashew nuts and some chocolate biscuits- paid with shillings and closed the window.
Just as I turned to Matt there was a tapping on my window and I wondered if I had not paid enough- but it was Alex...he had brought the bus driver over to our window to show us and tell me that the driver knew who we were and knew to be sure we got off in Karatu.
Angel Alex. We still keep in touch on WhatsApp almost every day.
Our bus pulled out of the lot slowly like a whale that had eaten far too many fish - and Matt and I held hands we were on our own now- born into Africa with our trusty LP at the helm...and our "cash nuts" for sustenance.
I took a few of the chocolate cookies out of the package and shoved them between the seat and the window to the little girl behind me...better pay up front- we just might need her ;)
PART 3 or "Caught Up in Super Sticky FlyTape" aka "When I Wonder Why I've Been Eating Mr. Noodles for the Last 2 Weeks...I Remember Karatu."
There is much to be said about travelling as the locals do- I mean sure- we could have hired a private vehicle to take us in air conditioned comfort to Karatu but we would have never discovered that they play the entire Bob Marley "Legend" album on the bus and we would never have witnessed the toothless elderly Maasai women (who sat in the aisle on a water jug with a pillow for 90 minutes) get kicked off the bus (presumably for non-payment) and wander off into the fields...I wouldn't have felt the excitement of the little girl behind me as she poked me through the seats and urged me to "look look" out the window- to see the baboons playing near the side of the road as we climbed the hill overlooking Lake Manyara. No, this type of travel is not of universal interest and it asks you to go way outside your comfort zone. Over the next couple of days Matt and I would be forced into trying to understand our role in these challenging socio-economic circumstances we were witnessing.
As our bus turned into the lot in Karatu- I started to get jittery as there were a lot of people waiting there - many of whom I am sure were touts and flycatchers...and since we were the only white people on the bus we were for certain heavily targeted. Having had some experience in the past with touts in my travels I had shared with Matt that the best way to deal with this is 'don't make eye contact, don't say a word and walk with confidence like we know exactly where we are going"
We jumped off the bus and beelined it for the main road. Haha! We did it...we were so smart we got away with no hassles. (Insert proverbial high-five) Shit, now what- we had no clue where we were except for on the side of the road in a shantytown with a red dirt road and no clue where the Vera Inn was.
"Excuse me...excuse me can I talk to you for a minute?" a young local man was hanging out the window of a beat up Toyota pickup. I told Matt not to talk to him "He's a tout babe...just keep walking" but Matt being the kinder of us in this situation stopped to talk with him. He looked to be about 25, with long dreaded hair and tattoos (basically an African Matt)
He asked where we were going and where we were staying and what our plans were. Matt admitted we had no plans... which I am sure was music to his ears.
”Are you going on a Safari?” he asked
”Well yes, but we are good we are going to get a vehicle ourselves” Matt said with confidence
”Ok- well that is what I do- I take people on Safari so if you need anything maybe I can see you later- where are you staying?”
Matt let him know where we were going and he pointed us in the right direction and said maybe he would come by there later.
We made our way slowly, stopped to buy a fresh pineapple from a vendor that he cut and bagged for us right there and realized we would need to ask again for further directions. Matt approached a Safari vehicle that was pulled over on the street and as he leaned in the window to ask directions…a young man crossed the road and became involved in the conversation. I recognized him from the white cross he wore around his neck. He had been in the vehicle at the bus stop with “African Matt”! Were they following us???
”Flycatcher” is a term I had not been familiar with until after we returned home- but knowing now- I would most certainly refer to the men we encountered in Karatu as such- and even in this moment as I write- I wonder if that was Alex as well…
A ‘flycatcher’ is a person who befriends a tourist in order to help them get a good price and to direct them to particular companies who must pay some kind of commission for the found business. They know what time the bus arrives in the town and they wait- they are experienced in ‘reading’ tourists if they have guide-books in hand or a map they know it is potential business. They are friendly and helpful and try to build trust- they know how to read answers from tourists too- so when we said we knew where we were going and that we were doing a safari but didn’t need help- they knew we were lying and so they followed us from a distance.
When the Safari driver gave Matt specific directions to our Inn- Mr. White Cross walked with us and said he would take us there- we politely declined but in (what we eventually learned to be) typical Tanzanian style he ignored our no thank-yous and just kept guiding us- claiming to coincidentally work for the very Inn we had chosen…
We twisted and turned down side streets a few blocks off the main road, found the place- secured a not as much sparkling room as might have been expected but decent and perfectly ok. We inquired about renting a safari vehicle for the following day and found ourselves outside in the front yard sitting at a plastic table and chair set with the man from Vera Inn as Mr. White Cross hovered. He asked us a few questions about what we were looking for and within minutes…African Matt was standing at the table.
I had to laugh inside even though I hate being ‘taken’ what a solid team they had been. We had definitely been trapped in a pretty little jar with lots of green grass in the bottom…and now they were poking holes in the lid for us so we could breathe. The prices they were asking for were just a tiny bit more than we had expected – and after a solid check of the vehicle and making doubly sure that this was in fact the exact vehicle we would be taken out in (as a common scam is the ol’ bait and switch) we shook on it and said we would see him before sunrise the following morning so he could take us into the Ngorongoro Crater for our Safari.