» posted on Monday, September 19th, 2022 by Linda Lou Burton
It Wasn’t Exactly A Bus
Linda Lou Burton posting from Arusha, Tanzania– Confusion. Inside Namanga’s Border Control Office, confusion reigned in signs and lines; blurred. Somebody pushed me out of one line into another, pulled me maybe. I had everything in hand: passport, Tanzanian visa, Yellow Fever Card, COVID documents. Cane in the other hand, leaning, wobbly. At the first window a man took my passport and simply walked away with it! Another push, someone grabbed my arm, another line. The gang was split, everyone confused, different lines; I was pushed again, to the front of a line, the counter. Another man, smiling at me. “You look confused,” he said. “Are you enjoying your visit?” “And you look very handsome,” I replied, “and not confused at all. So maybe you can tell me what is going on.” This made him laugh. I can’t tell you what happened next, but somehow everything I needed was stamped, signed, recorded, and my passport back in my possession. I staggered out of the room, a young man took my arm, oh yes, our driver, the one taking us to Arusha, on the big bus. “I need a restroom first,” I said. He led me around the corner to a room with open door; three stalls, one stall with a hole-in-the-floor design; the next with a toilet but no door; the third with a door but a toilet with no seat. No paper anywhere. I chose the stall with the door; walked out with a wet spot on the back side of my pants. The driver led me towards our new vehicle; not a spacious bus, but a minivan! While we were inside our luggage was moved from the 4x4s; luggage for nine people now in a van, barely space for nine to sit! Mike and Lois were standing there; we scrambled into the front seats. “First come!” we said, unwilling to politely stuff ourselves in the back row. Mike took the front seat and busied himself on his phone. Lois and I crowded together; our luggage and backpacks squashed between our knees and the driver’s seatback. “My pants are wet” I whispered. We started laughing then; the restroom, the crowd, the confusion; the Hukana Matata sign across the dash. “No worries!” we laughed. The door of the van was open; two laughing women visible; a crowd gathered; arms reached inside with beaded goods, “Ten Dollar! Ten Dollar! Ten Dollar!” We stopped laughing; shook our heads, NO, please NO. NO. NO. Otis and Venita arrived; Otis attempted to negotiate a trade as Venita urged him to get in the van, NOW! Ed and Maureen and Judy arrived; slipped past the insistent vendoring crowd. Where was Rick? Where was Abdi? Still inside. Rick had his visa on his phone, but he didn’t take the paper copy in. Abdi helped; persuading the stick-by-the-rules governmental staff to print it from the phone; persuading them not to charge Rick $6 per page for the six pages it took, slowly, slowly (pole, pole). Then finally, everyone inside; goodbye to Abdi; the door of our “not exactly a bus” was closed. We headed for Arusha.
Arusha, Tanzania has a population of more than 400,000; another 300,000+ in the area surrounding. On the eastern edge of the Great Rift Valley, it is near Serengeti National Park, the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, Lake Manyara National Park, Olduvai Gorge, Tarangire National Park, Mount Kilimanjaro, and Mount Meru in the Arusha National Park. At an elevation of 4,600 feet, Arusha’s climate is relatively cool and dry. Colleges and universities located here include the National College of Tourism, about which we will hear more this week. We reached our lunch stop and driver-vehicle switching place at noon; the Arusha Coffee Lodge, on a working coffee plantation. Here’s this 70-mile leg of today’s journey.
Next Post: Getting Our Bearings
Garden Luncheon, Arusha Coffee Lodge https://www.elewanacollection.com/arusha-coffee-lodge/dining