Safari and Swahili Culture

7 July 2004

 

Dear Friends and Family,

 

For the past 10 days, we've had visitors from our church and we've been on Safari.  We attempted to do in 10 days what we are hoping to do in all the time we are here - that is, see all the animals we can and luxuriate in the paradise of Zanzibar so we can say "been there, done that" with authority.  We shopped for souvenirs, ate local foods, swam in the Indian Ocean, drove, boated, flew, swam, and walked in and to as many places as we could.  We are Tired!  But we did it!  We were a party of 3 adults and 5 kids, aged 13, 12, 11, 9, and 8.  We stayed in places ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous.  We had beach bandas (cottages) with beautifully tiled showers and beach bandas with no electricity.  We could watch the animals at the watering hole from our beds, we could watch the sunrise over the Indian Ocean from our beds, we couldn't even see our beds in the dark.   It was great, it was exhausting, and it was fun. 

 

Yesterday, we started the other kind of vacation - the break from school vacation.  The kids finished on the 25th, we started our safari on the 27th.  We haven't had any real "down time" yet.  Madeline started her intensive Swahili lessons, and today Wes started tennis lessons.  We have only 4 weeks until the next safari begins on 1 August with Rob's brothers and their families.  What a life!  I wish we could afford it!  School starts again on the 16th of August.  Madie takes French in school, but wanted to learn Swahili so she's doing a lesson every day until we leave again.  Wes just felt like learning tennis, and there's a new coach at the American Club, so he's going to do a lesson every day, too.  Austin just wants to be a lump - so that's what he's going to do. 

 

Wes finished his year with a "Completion" ceremony since he'll be in the Secondary School next year.  They got a certificate and sang some songs and things.  Wes provided some of the musical entertainment as the kids and parents filed out by playing the theme song from "Star Wars" on his Sax.  He was very brave to play in front of so many people after only playing the sax for a few months.  Last year he played the flute in band, but switched to the saxophone in September.  He took a month of private lessons and then played in the band until we moved to Tanzania.  He didn't pick it up again until March, and has had a lesson once a week since then.  He played the song from memory.  I've seen him perform it before, a little better, but I was still proud of him for standing up in front of all those people and playing.  Only 3 other kids played instruments, all of whom had been playing for years, and only a couple of others spoke at the ceremony.

 

One of the great things about living in foreign locales is that you can learn about the culture and art and collect stuff that you don't see in the US.  This time, we're buying furniture, too.  Since we were having company, we needed some extra beds.  There's a place near our house where there is a little industry of taking old Zanzibar style beds and benches and refurbishing them so they can be used.  I love the beds, they are so romantic looking, with a mosquito net frame above and lots of what we call "gingerbread",  and painted tiles of flowers and peacocks.  They remind you of Bogey and Bacall type movies.  They are usually fairly high up and elaborate.  I needed an excuse to buy one, and company was perfect. 

 

One thing that is hard to get used to is the constant bartering you do.  In the negotiation for the Zanzibar bed, I worked in a little deal since I needed the bed by a certain time.  I agreed to pay the seller's price if the bed was finished by a certain time on a certain day.  If the bed was not ready, he had to take my price.  I figured that way I'd get the bed in time for my guests.  When Rob and I went at the appointed hour, the bed was nearly finished, but not quite.  We decided that it was close enough, and as the seller's price was only about $10 more than my price, we agreed to pay his price.  Then we had to figure out how to get the bed to our house.  Rob entered into this negotiation and really held his ground, saying that he thought that 5000 Tsh was plenty since we only live about 1 kilometer away.  I had already purchased a Zanzibar bench from these guys a long time ago, and the price included the cost of a taxi/truck to get it to our house.   We got into the Monster Truck, which could have fit most if not all of the bed, although awkwardly, and drove home and waited.  We waited and waited, joking that they could have gotten it here faster if they'd carried it.  Suddenly, we realized that they were in fact carrying the bed.  Five guys showed up at the gate with bed parts balanced on their heads!  You should have seen Rob's face!  He had been such a tough negotiator that they were making about 1000 Tsh each (less than $1) for carrying a bed made of a hard and heavy wood on their heads for nearly 1 Km.   Naturally, Rob ended up tipping the guys to make up for his cheapness - or is it expert negotiating skills.  I put a photo of the bed on the website, along with some pictures of the Safari.

  

Another interesting facet of the Swahili culture is the telling of time.  Most of the difficulties I had with the bed negotiation had to do with the telling of time.  Starting with the days of the week, in Swahili, Saturday is the first day, with a name that literally means "First Day" this goes on until Thursday, which has an Arabic name, and then Friday, the holy day for Muslims, also with an Arabic name.  I thought that I'd just remember the Swahili words and wouldn't have any issues with which was which.  However, if you can count in Swahili, you can understand the literal translation and that overrides whatever intention I had of just remembering a name for a day.  So, when the bed fundi said the bed would be ready on the second day,  I initially thought he meant Tuesday so went into a little panic since the guests would be here on Thursday.   I had already included the "Fundi Factor" as we call it, which is the unknown element in all transactions.  If the fundi said the bed would be ready on the second day, I didn't expect it until at least the fourth!  Once we got it straight that the day was Sunday, I relaxed a little, but the negotiation had already been started, and I couldn't give in too much, I had to try to keep some face. 

 

The second complication in the negotiation was the time.  In Swahili culture, the day starts at 6 AM.  As a result, time is shifted by 6 hours.  The first hour in Swahili is really 7AM, and so on until the 12th hour, which is 6 PM.    So, when the bed fundi said the bed would be ready by 7, I initially thought he meant 7 PM.  But to be clear, I asked him if he meant morning or evening.  Well, the 7th hour is 1 PM, neither morning nor evening.  I've seen some people with their watches set on Swahili time.  When it's 3 for them, it's 9 for me.  You can imagine the confusion this causes.  Now, I usually say the time in Swahili, and follow it with pointing at the time I mean on my watch and saying the English time, too.   I had a conversation with my Swahili teacher about this.  He wished he could set his watch for Swahili time, but if he does, the date doesn't change at the right time. 

 

Another thing that has been mystifying Rob and me since we got here is the use of names.   Our next door neighbor is here with UNICEF.  She spoke at a big conference recently and was quoted in the newspapers.  She was introduced as Dr. Kerida McDonald and then referred to as Dr. Kerida throughout the article.  We laughed at the error of the paper, and then started thinking about how many times our names were messed up in official documents.   For example, when I ordered the trash removal service, I did so under the name of Robert Nooter.  The bill comes to us in the name of Mr. Roberts.  I have tried and tried to correct it, but can't convince them to change it to Mr. Nooter.  When I went to reserve air tickets for the family that are visiting in August, I had to give the names of the passengers.  The woman could not believe that the names were all the same: Thomas Nooter, Alice Nooter, William Nooter, etc.  She wrote Mr. Thomas, Mr. William, Mrs. Alice on the tickets.  I got her to correct them, but couldn't understand what was up.  Finally, I decided to ask Jonathan, my Swahili teacher.  Turns out that Jonathan is his grandfather's name.  His name is Elias.  That's the name his mother gave him.  His father's name is James.  Jonathan's name is really  Elias James Jonathan - given name, father's name, grandfather's name.  His wife is Elizabeth.  When she went to the hospital to have her babies (twins), she registered as Elizabeth Elias.   But because professionally her husband is known as Jonathan, she sometimes uses Elizabeth Jonathan.   The babies are boys, named James and George.  Initially, Jonathan told me their names were James Elias Jonathan and George Elias Jonathan.  When I pressed him though, he admitted and seemed a little surprised that their names were really James Elias James and George Elias James (their given names, his name, their grandfather's name).   To make matters worse, if you want to look him up in the phone book, you'd look under E - for Elias.  Naturally!  I asked him how he can trace his family history if the last name keeps changing.  Well, you can't, so you just don't.

 

Some people do keep one surname from generation to generation, but usually this is the name of a place, the place from which the family originated - like Moshi.  We know a number of people named Moshi.  Moshi is a town near Mount Kilimanjaro.  There are tons of Moshis.  I think about the phone book, how hard it would be to find Alex Moshi - look under M, tons of Moshis - but you don't look under M, you look under A.  It is starting to make sense to me now.

 

Yesterday I was driving on a dirt road (they're nearly all dirt roads) and there was a man flagging down cars as they passed.  I had no idea what he wanted, and since I was alone in the car, I didn't really want to stop.  I rolled my window down a little and he said "I just fixed the road, I want a donation!"  You've got to love the ingenuity.   This has happened to me before, but in a different way.  When I bought my refurbished Zanzibar bed, there was a "fundi" among the crowd of fundis that thought he should help with the translation of the negotiation.  I thought I was doing fine, but he wanted to help anyway.   A couple of days after the bed was delivered,  this fellow showed up at my house.  My gardener showed him in and he explained that he had helped with the negotiation and thought I should give him a little "gifti".   For me, these situations present a great dilemma.  For the translator, I felt that I neither owed him a gifti nor wanted to set a precedent of giving money to people with a good story that could get past the "Guard-ner", in addition, I didn't  want him pissed off at me since he knew where I lived, as there have recently been some "incidents" regarding muggings and burglaries of ex-pats.  In the end, I gave him nothing and Rob told the gardener not to let people in at the gate.  The guy on the road is a different issue, these roads ARE terrible, our road has so many potholes that it makes your teeth rattle, if we weren't driving the Monster, we'd bottom out every 10 yards or so, and believe it or not, it also has speed bumps!  I don't want to encourage a new cottage industry of road fixers shaking me down on every turn, but I appreciated that he had put some effort into fixing the road.  Still, being asked at every turn to give a gifti or a donation or a loan is a pain, so I opted to keep my money.   

 

So, that's it for now.  I could brag about seeing a Leopard on our Safari, but I won't.  We were actually the first people to stay at the Saadani Safari Lodge (check this place out at www.Saadani.net) to see a Leopard in the park.  We had to sign the official calendar at the Lodge and everything.  It's great, we've seen 3 Leopards since we came here.  I know people who have lived here for years and gone on many a safari and never seen a Leopard.  OK, so I did brag, what can I say. 

 

Speaking of bragging, I have another brag to add.  My kids now have 20 cousins!  Brannan Ruth Mitchell joined our family on 1 July of this year, making Benjamin a big brother and my youngest sister Nan and her husband Mike parents again!  My parents now have 15 grandkids!  Phew!

 

So, that's it for now.  I hope you are all well and enjoying your summer vacations.  We're actually a little chilly here at times, mostly at night.  Not chilly enough for a blanket on the bed, but chilly.  It feels great!

 

Take care,

Barb