Touts, Beers, and Hikes

After our safari ended, I took TC up to Ngongongare to see Jifundishe. We were picked up by the ever gracious Paulo who, other than plans to change the oil in his car, had made sure to free up his day to be at our disposal.

The fields around Ngongongare

On our way in, I did a quick tour with TC of the Jifundishe Library and grounds before we headed out to the staff house for a quick chat with Anne and Deb. Unfortunately, Anande was away at training all week so I missed seeing her again. By all accounts, she was sad to miss me as well, but I’m pretty sure she was just upset that she could no longer come to Cacti House – the volunteer quarters – to eat my leftovers every day.

These three brothers came running out and asked for a picture.
Don't have to ask me twice!

You can walk Ngongongare in about 10 minutes, but we made the most of it and followed a few of my favourite walks out and back so TC could see the countryside as well. We waited for Paulo in front of the duka (shop) on the CCM flag stand as it was the only place to sit.

The traffic in Ngongongare is insane!

CCM stands for Chama Cha Mapinduzi (Party of the Revolution) and it is the current ruling party. Their green flag can be seen flying in almost every village you pass, although it is also common to spot the flag of the main opposition party, Civic United Front (CUF), flying as well. As I explained this to TC, the woman running a small fruit stand overheard and started cheering and clapping for CCM. It was clear who she had voted for in last year’s elections!

Bought my last Coca-Cola baridi (cold) from the duka.

We bought our bus tickets for the next day. Paulo came with us to make sure it all goes okay because apparently I’ve never bought bus tickets on my own in Tanzania… As we walked back to his car, he spotted someone he knew and started chatting. TC and I walked to the car and patiently stood to the side waiting for Paulo to catch up. Instantly, I was swarmed with guys asking if I needed a taxi, they could get me a taxi, here’s a taxi (pointing at Paulo’s car). One of them went to open the door for me, saying “I know this taxi driver. I’ll get him for you.” I pointed at Paulo walking up to the driver’s door, and said “I know him, too. He’s my rafiki (friend).” The tout then asked Paulo to give him some money for finding the fare. Paulo and I looked at each other with ‘what the hell’ faces as the tout realised we already knew each other and disappeared down a side street.

Paulo: taxi driver, Swahili teacher, cheaper-price-getter,
grocery runner, beer provider, and good rafiki.

It was just such an African moment.

We went to Paulo’s favourite restaurant for lunch where we introduce TC to ugali, a corn-mash dish eaten all over East Africa. Ugali is bland and tasteless, but that’s okay because its main purpose is to act as a food-picker-upper for whatever you are serving with the ugali (usually steamed spinach and some sort of meat). Paulo devoured his portion of the ugali; TC and I, in true wazungu fashion, dropped almost as much on the table and ourselves as we got in our mouths. We may have been the butt of a few jokes.

After the hustle and bustle of Arusha, Lushoto was such a nice change of pace. A sleepy little town tucked up in the hills of the Usambara Mountains, Lushoto has friendly touts, chatty locals, and cooler weather. Everything you could want after Arusha! We booked ourselves into the only dry hotel in town because it was also the cheapest, and while I had a nap after our 8-hour bus ride, TC checked out the town and found a little hole-in-the-wall to buy beer. Our evening plans were sorted.

The wall of the Lushoto beer shop.

The main reason for coming to Lushoto is hiking. TC had been contemplating a multi-day hike to the Mtae (a village on the other side of the mountain range) but a knee injury shortly before departure ended that plan. Instead of heading off in different hiking directions, we booked a day hike together to the Mazumbai Forest Reserve. The hike starts with going up about 600 metres and it’s pretty much straight up. I’ll give you two guesses who the slow one was. Hint: it wasn’t the person with the knee injury.

About halfway up to the summit. Lushoto is in that valley behind me.

When we reached the summit of our hike – through the forest to an old German lookout fort – our guide, Ali, made lunch. Who should we run into but Agri, one of my guides from when I was in Lushoto in 2007! He’s doing well, thanks for asking. He’s now working at the Irente Bio-reserve as a guide. Yes, Yassin (my other guide from another trip there) still works at Friends of Usambara. Ah, Lushoto.

Even the middle of nowhere needs a corner store.

One of the great things about doing these hikes with a guide is that they take you through all the backroads and small trails that the locals use. One of the not-so-great things about doing these hikes with a guide is that the backroads and small trails are small. If you stop walking, you can barely fit both your feet on the path.

Two guesses who totally bit it on the walk back to Lushoto. Hint: it wasn’t the person with the knee injury. (Although I had one after I fell!) What a sight the two limping wazungu must have been straggling back into town.

The view from the path through another nameless village

We spent another day in Lushoto to give us time to recuperate from our injuries because Market Day is Thursday and we wanted to check it out. I always love Tanzanian markets, well, food markets. Not only is the food cheap, the colours and atmosphere are always so vibrant. And in a fun twist of events, the declaration of love hurled at me came from a young woman, not a man. She was telling me in Swahili that I was pretty, so I smiled and said ‘asante’ (thank you) as I wandered past. Then, in really loud English, she calls out “Dada (sister), I love you,” and the market full of dadas, mamas, and bibis (sisters, mothers, and grandmas) roared with laughter. What else can you do except laugh with them and say ‘asante’ again? 

Market Day in Lushoto