5/18/11 Growing Accustomed

A few fleeting thoughts . . .
- My teeth should be shades whiter when I return for the cessation of my coffee habit – down to two cups per week so far! That’s compared to the at least 3 cups a day that had been my habit.
- I think I’ve learned to tone out others’ comments as best as possible. This group travel thing – it can be nice, but I don’t know if it’s for me.

Today we left Dar at least by 9:30 (departure was scheduled for 9:00). I will keep mentioning this ongoing theme to drive home the point. The ride to Bagamoyo is a rough one. Bumps, potholes, standing water, chickens, oh my! Between speed and road conditions, life was fragile that 1 ½ hours. The rain continued today with periods of blue sky from time to time.

Our bus was stopped when we entered the town of Bagamoyo. Apparently we had an expired tag. The official (in plain clothes) got on the bus with us so our driver could drop us off before paying the fine. We got our rooms and placed our lunch orders while we waited (at least 45 minutes) for our bus to return. Very curious practice.

Our tour of Bagamoyo included the ruins of the mosque, the Catholic church/slave trade museum, and the caravan and slave house. The best part of our tour today was our tour guide who was at least 70 years old. He was dressed in traditional clothes and spoke simple, clear English. His knowledge is a combination of family history (his father was a slave owner) and work experience (he worked most of his life for the office of antiquities).

Other points of interest:
- Bagamoyo means “lay down your home” – or forget where you came from – because this is where the slave caravan ended and slavery began
- At the ruins:
o The lovers grave with husband and wife buried together
o The holy grave where people still come to kneel before incense to give thanks and ask for blessings
- At the museum:
o According to their records, the slave trade did not end until 1922!
o Baobab tree = very cool
o The influence of the Catholic church portrayed as an advocate for abolition/mission
o The reiteration of Dr. Livingstone
- At the slave house:
o It has been converted to bedrooms for college students (very, very crudely)
o The steep stairs were difficult to climb even without being blindfolded and chained together like slaves were
o Our guide mentioned again that men were castrated so that only Arab men could sleep with the enslaved women – “No love nests,” he said. He noted that young boys were also castrated and raised with women, as women.
- Some have noted the un-impressiveness of historic sites. Sites are not enshrined with monuments and grandeur. If there is recognition of the past, it is generally in simple hand painted signage. To one point, this is unfortunate – shouldn’t the past be remembered and those hurt here honored? But in the same breath, should a grand monument to the past stand so near to such a modest present?

After the tour we took a brief walk through the village and watched the evening pass – quickly. As the football game wrapped up and locals began heading home, we did also. The dark comes quickly without streetlights. At only 6:30, we didn’t quite know what to do with ourselves. Since we ate lunch late (not unusually), dinner was not until 8:00. When it finally came and we reassembled, two hours passed with chatter, questions, and laughter. The sounds of friendships growing reverberate in the mostly empty hotel restaurant.

Chasing the looming cats also kept us busy at the dinner table. Lasting image: Dr. Lewis, who hates cats (especially here), striking her large umbrella on the cement and shouting to scare them away. The poor cats are so skimpy and dirty, but cute nonetheless. I felt so sorry for them the way the staff scared them with a broom stick. They seem to associate the stick with being beaten – they run when they even see it.

Our reflections on the houses and life we have seen were clarified by Dr. Lewis. Our questions about what awaits us in Arusha answered. (Monkeys, lots of monkeys!)