The place and the people

No, I didn’t die in a plane crash after all, or get eaten by sharks πŸ˜› But I DID have some close encounters with tsetse flies and mosquitoes…

So many pictures to showcase, and so many stories to tell…and I’m clueless where to start. All I have to say at this point is, Tanzania turned out to be as interesting as I dared hope it would be. All of hubby’s experiences of travelling solo in Africa have now come vividly into focus in my head, and I am no longer a vague disconnected spectator. It’s great to finally have seen what he saw πŸ™‚ But as Proust said, the real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes….

My jaded Karachiite cynicism had to rethink itself in the East African habitat. It expected certain attitudes and was surprised to find the same rules of behaviour did not apply, the ones it is used to meting out at home. People ARE different from place to place! This was an unusual trip in many ways, and one of the reasons for it has been the interactions with various people while I was there……a truly multicultural bunch. They enriched my experience in ways that I’m not even properly aware of, yet I feel changed because of them. This must be one of the coolest things about travelling. If we’re lucky, we manage not to just skim along on the surface of a touristy trip, stay at a nice hotel/resort, eat in fancy restaurants, see the sights that are laid out for us to see and go to the places the guidebooks tell us to go…

So I dedicate my first post-travel post to the people I met πŸ™‚ May they all be chugging along merrily where I left them. I hope I get to see them again someday. They had no idea I am a closet anthropologist (albeit a clueless one) nor do they know just how much I enjoyed their conversation and their company, even when we ran out of things to laugh and talk about.

Ali, Muni, Lulu ben, Hani and Murtaza behind them.

This is only one-third of the family that adopted us while we were in Dar es Salam. There are many more of them, scattered around East Africa πŸ™‚ Not only did they drive us around and show us places and make sure we tried as much of the local junk food as we could, they blew me away with their quaint, typically East African sing-song way of speaking πŸ˜€ I’m sure they must have thought I was a bit crazy, smiling away while I listened to them talk, but it was hard to suppress my delight as they occasionally burst into Swahili in the middle of all that beautifully accented Gujarati. I learned that Lulu ben drives like a maniac and (in her own words) has grown old listening to Vital Signs blaring in her car. She was born and raised in Karachi till she got proposed to by a man from Zanzibar, for whom she left all that she had known to go live in a completely strange new place. Her family means everything to her, and I’m happy to report they’re a charming lot, at least the ones I had the good fortune to meet, friendly and full of life, busy in their spheres, multiplying every now and then with new additions to the family πŸ™‚

Shirin (not in the pic) and the older Hani are twins, yet completely unalike. Ali and Muni love Dar, and wouldn’t dream of living anywhere else, though Muni would love to come to Karachi just for the food and to shop till she drops. She loves jewellery and gemstones set in classy rings, and used to help her father in his tour operating business enterprise in Arusha until she got married. Murtaza is married to Shirin, whom he met at the beach and dated for 3 years before they got hitched. Huz and him got along like a house on fire. And Ali loves to tease the older Hani by freaking her out with ghost stories from Zanzibar, so much so that she can’t sleep alone with the mere *mention* of spookiness. She can’t even sit with her back to the ocean!

And then there was little Hani. We were inseparable. We took pictures of each other, secretly shared laal badaam juice (she wasn’t supposed to have any) she whispered stories in my willing ear, so many cute little stories about her homework, the locals that hung around outside their window, her little brother…and every time we parted ways, she’d give me a little gift from the purse she always carried….a Snickers bar…and gum πŸ™‚

little Hani and me

If there was anyone in Dar who was concerned about us not getting bored, it was Godfrey. He made it his personal responsibility to show us places we might not have been able to access easily, and once there, he showed us around with indulgence and a pleasantly quiet enthusiasm. I loved the way he pronounced my name….Mu-neee-rahh. He has a penchant for white wine and Pringles πŸ™‚ If not for his willingness to drive us all the way to Mikumi (a scenic wildlife reserve), we might have been too insecure and a bit daunted by the newness of experience outside Dar es Salam. His son Bryan (yet another 5 yr old!) sang songs and Tanzanian beer jingles all the way and we were amused no end by him. He had a way of responding to questions by just raising his eyebrows with a certain expression in his eyes, and we were left to decipher what he meant πŸ˜€

Godfrey’s wife, Anna Maria turned out to be this really educated woman, holding double degrees in Chemistry and Wildlife Studies, teaching entrepreneurship for a government-based program. She schooled me on the correct method of preparing Ugali, a maize-based staple in local cuisine, and divulged that if it wasn’t for the fact that she had to work to supplement the family income, she would rather be home and spend more time with Bryan, and perhaps have more kids.

Our safari experience was the richer for the hours we spent riding around in the same car πŸ™‚

Godfrey, Anna and Bryan just before we left Mikumi.

How would I have had the courage to go to Mwenge, and Kepepeo, and Zanzibar, if not for Tina, the Ghanaian wife of Willem, Huz’s long-time colleague and friend…

the girl has joie de vivre! πŸ˜€

Without Tina’s moral support, I would have been a blithering idiot. Not to mention, completely unaware of the dire hair issues of African women! I can now recognize and tell the difference between real hair and extensions πŸ˜‰

There are 49 languages spoken in Ghana, and Tina doesn’t know Swahili. Yet, she was completely at home in Tanzania, charming the locals with her West African-ness and her rust-coloured extensions. With her, I was just an anonymous ‘muzungu’ (white person! me!! HAH!!). She occupied centre-stage in Tanzanian male attentions, causing random coconut sellers to declare their love and offer to marry her πŸ˜€

Dong with a platter of fruit at a special Tanzanian dinner at the New Africa hotel πŸ™‚

And this is Dong. I think this picture best captures the wackiness that is her πŸ™‚ She works for the UNIDO and lives in Vienna, where a single eggplant costs 1 euro and her mother is scandalized, since in China you can get at least a kilo for that much money. She loves her work (she plays a huge part in getting work for Huz too) and her tuna sashimi, and would like nothing better than to travel all over the world :). A self-professed nerd, but as much fun as a barrel of monkeys.:D Loved her company during our sumptuous breakfasts at the lovely Kilimanjaro Kempinski, where strange and amazing things happened, such as the elevator doors opening to reveal Kofi Annan waiting for the lift (he was in Dar es Salam for a conference on poverty alleviation!)

Yep, too many stories….I’m back with loads of inspiration. Albums have been duly facebooked, and now……to blog about it. πŸ™‚ More on people and places in coming posts!


  1. sherou says:

    loved reading this and can’t wait to read more…


    1. Good! Now read ‘The streets of Dar es Salam’ πŸ˜€


  2. Aziza says:

    Great insight as always Munira. I loved East Africa and like u was fascinated with the local people and culture.
    Thanks for sharing.


    1. Thank YOU! For stopping by and leaving me such a nice comment πŸ™‚


  3. Wow, it looks like you had a great time. Saw so many things and made so many friends. A great experience, eh? Looking forward to more stories !! πŸ™‚


  4. Yep! A wonderful experience in many ways, though of course there’s always room for more wonderful-ness πŸ™‚
    Next post….safari! πŸ˜€


  5. khadija says:

    Hi . i read some of ur posts and feel like i m falling in love with ur writing u r a great writer really enjoying ur writing


  6. Oh, what a fantastic trip and great way to describe it ! i love the way you write, Munira (how are we supposed to pronounce your name ? In French this would be “Muniraaa” πŸ˜‰ I have never been to Tanzania but lived in Rwanda for a while and there I was also the “muzungu”. This picture of you and little Hani is priceless, so much complicitΓ© between you two. Isn’t it wonderful to visit a country or any place with people/friends living there ? So different and enriching in many ways. Thanks again for bringing us along.


    1. Munira says:

      Thank you SO much Isa, for coming by and reading such an old post. Because of you I got to read it again too, and re-live my memories from that time πŸ™‚
      Muniraaa is indeed the correct pronunciation πŸ˜‰ And Hani and I were indeed thick as thieves!
      I’m glad we knew people in Tanzania, it would definitely not have been as much fun without them.


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