Dar es Salaam – Mazumbai; Chalinze
Dawn broke over northern Africa. The searing expanses of the southern Sahara sprawled in every direction; nary a swath of green in sight. The chaotic Darfur region of south Sudan stretched to the port horizon, looking featureless and hostile. After a few empty hours, we were brought back to life by the sight of the majestic Kilimanjaro, a lone peak rising up from the plains below as if to greet us. At its feet was the legendary Lake Victoria, larger than some African countries. For the first time I was struck by the fact that I was going to Africa, the real Africa, the place of the storybooks of my childhood.
The storybook Africa was jolted out of my head when the plane door opened (foreshadowing resolved). It could just as well have been the blast door of a furnace, if the furnace had roughly the humidity of an old gym locker room. The temperature difference between our origin and destination was more than 40°C. As I swam through thick air toward the entrance to Dar es Salaam arrivals, I recalled the sensation I had experienced while walking toward the entrance to Arlanda departures: bitter and near-painful cold. It had, I recalled, hurt to breathe too deeply. I can assure you: I preferred the cold.
We cleared customs without dying, but just barely. Our drivers were waiting for us out front with four rugged Toyota Landcruisers. They drove us around the city on errands as we tried to get accustomed to the heat, dust and bumpy roads. I saw the Tanzanian version of a refrigerated truck: a pick-up with a tarpaulined bed full of block ice. I accumulated a thick wad of colourful cash and a stockpile of provisions and we left Dar as abruptly as we had arrived.
Several points of interest caught Jerry’s eye along the way. Our first stop was beside a shady kapok tree (Ceiba pentandra). The cotton-like seeds of this broad tree were used in the past to fill pillows and mattresses. We also saw a mango tree (Mangifera sp.) at this stop. We made a brief stop in Chalinze, a bus-hub town that failed to impress. A while later we paused beside an expansive plantation of sisal (Agave sisalana), the fibrous leaves of which are an important export product. Along the way we also saw other trees of interest, including neem (Melia azadirachta), baobab (Adansonia digitata), cashew (Anacardium occidentale), cacao (Theobroma cacao) and naboom (Euphorbia candelabrum).
The sights, sounds and smells we encountered along the road to Mazumbai were familiar and unfamiliar simultaneously. Previous travel in developing countries and several courses I have taken prepared me for the experience, but the images were nonetheless striking: A woman carrying the day’s fuelwood on her head, children playing soccer with a chunk of tire rubber, crouched figures beneath a rusting tin roof, Maasai boys herding famished goats across a dry watercourse, a elderly man lying beside a crumbling mud hut. And everyone stopping to watch us pass.
After dark we came to a rutted and potholed dirt road and went careening around harrowing cliff-edge curves, our convoy enveloped in headlight-stopping dust. What a relief it was when we came skidding to a halt on the manicured lawns of the Mazumbai Rainforest Management Training Facility. We were greeted by a smiling Mr. Kiparu and a million twinkling stars.
Why so much science? What is this?
The storybook Africa was jolted out of my head when the plane door opened (foreshadowing resolved). It could just as well have been the blast door of a furnace, if the furnace had roughly the humidity of an old gym locker room. The temperature difference between our origin and destination was more than 40°C. As I swam through thick air toward the entrance to Dar es Salaam arrivals, I recalled the sensation I had experienced while walking toward the entrance to Arlanda departures: bitter and near-painful cold. It had, I recalled, hurt to breathe too deeply. I can assure you: I preferred the cold.
We cleared customs without dying, but just barely. Our drivers were waiting for us out front with four rugged Toyota Landcruisers. They drove us around the city on errands as we tried to get accustomed to the heat, dust and bumpy roads. I saw the Tanzanian version of a refrigerated truck: a pick-up with a tarpaulined bed full of block ice. I accumulated a thick wad of colourful cash and a stockpile of provisions and we left Dar as abruptly as we had arrived.
Several points of interest caught Jerry’s eye along the way. Our first stop was beside a shady kapok tree (Ceiba pentandra). The cotton-like seeds of this broad tree were used in the past to fill pillows and mattresses. We also saw a mango tree (Mangifera sp.) at this stop. We made a brief stop in Chalinze, a bus-hub town that failed to impress. A while later we paused beside an expansive plantation of sisal (Agave sisalana), the fibrous leaves of which are an important export product. Along the way we also saw other trees of interest, including neem (Melia azadirachta), baobab (Adansonia digitata), cashew (Anacardium occidentale), cacao (Theobroma cacao) and naboom (Euphorbia candelabrum).
The sights, sounds and smells we encountered along the road to Mazumbai were familiar and unfamiliar simultaneously. Previous travel in developing countries and several courses I have taken prepared me for the experience, but the images were nonetheless striking: A woman carrying the day’s fuelwood on her head, children playing soccer with a chunk of tire rubber, crouched figures beneath a rusting tin roof, Maasai boys herding famished goats across a dry watercourse, a elderly man lying beside a crumbling mud hut. And everyone stopping to watch us pass.
After dark we came to a rutted and potholed dirt road and went careening around harrowing cliff-edge curves, our convoy enveloped in headlight-stopping dust. What a relief it was when we came skidding to a halt on the manicured lawns of the Mazumbai Rainforest Management Training Facility. We were greeted by a smiling Mr. Kiparu and a million twinkling stars.
Why so much science? What is this?
