Depart.
Estimated travel time by foot is thirty minutes.
As we open the door to the compound and walk out into the Tanzanian heat, we turn to say – tutaonana baadaye to the guards.
When first walking out of the compound, you are often bombarded with a strong smell of burning trash – low and behold, a large pile of trash, plastic bags and bottles included, burns and produces a stench followed by a thick cloud of smoke.
Side note: Tanzanians do not have any sort of trash pickup service.
While the price of taxes is often included in what you purchase in a store, Tanzanians often don’t pay taxes every year like we do.
That being the case, there is no additional money in the system to pay for
certain things like trash pickup or recycling.
In public places, there usually aren’t any trashcans
(except in westernized parts of the country like major cities).
Trash is often sprawled out over dirt roads,
while black plastic bags get stuck wherever they can take hold.
Okay, back to the walk.
Over rocks, boulders and bits of trash imbedded in the rust-colored dirt - down the road and around a couple corners, we empty out onto the main road. The main road (which takes you to the airport) is paved throughout, before dropping off into draining canals on each side.
Hop over the stone walled canal, look left, look right, cross the street, and hop over again.
Note: Traffic travels on the left side of the road.
Off to the left, around the shack set up with seats in the shade, we start to walk down a dirt path to avoid the chaos of the first ‘keep lefty’ (roundabout) but instead find ourselves dodging ‘flycatchers’. ‘Flycatchers’ are men who walk up next to you and try to start a conversation with you – usually with an end goal of trying to sell you a safari (safari in Swahili means a journey/trip) or something they are carrying in their backpack. In a society where the word 'no' is rarely used and considered disrespectful, we say asante and walk away. Once across the road, we pass an old Tanzanian man who has set up Tinga-style and other paintings along the wire fence, trying to make a living by selling to tourists who walk by. Across the street is a building being built, it reads ‘complex’ at the top. The interesting thing about buildings being built in Moshi, or Tanzania for that matter, is that their scaffolding is made solely out of wood and rope. While I’m sure many of the workers are aware of the risks before they start working eight floors off the ground, it is very unsettling seeing that is all that lays underneath them. As we walk down towards the next ‘keep-lefty’, in the dirt along the paved road, we pass many more nightclubs, bars, and trade-shops (woodwork, ironwork, etc.).
Town.
The clock tower, in the center of Moshi, is the point that all of town wraps itself around. While it acts as a point for those who may use its presence as a beacon, it also provides an opportunity for exploration down different roads leading to many different destinations. On many shaded sections of the curved structure, locals have set up their goods to sell to those who walk by; anything from whole pineapples from a cart (only for $1.50), grapes to refurbished shoes, second-hand clothing and plastic sunglasses.
If one were in search for a grocery store, they would travel down the first road on the left. Nakumatt, a Kenyan based grocery store, is the largest in town: they sell your traditional needs and supplies like any other store, as well as, patio furniture, clothing, kitchen supplies and books. This is where you can get credit for your sim card, get cash at the ATM, buy a ticket to Nairobi or stock up any overpriced souvenirs. Across the street is Kilimanjaro Coffee Company, where we go to eat some Chips Mayai (an omelet with French fries cooked into it, it is SO GOOD, but then again, how can it not be?) and have delicious iced coffee (their version is a spin on an affogato, can’t go wrong).
If one were looking for the post office, they would travel up to the right from the clock tower. Further up the street you’d find Give A Heart To Africa’s two co-operatives: Moshi Mamas and Lala Salamas. Even farther up the steep road from there, you would come across a tiny store called Aleems. Aleems is a westernized grocery store that includes the good stuff like pesto and oatmeal at an up-marketed price. Just outside, set up in a metal shelving unit is a fantastic fruit stand, run by a small, old Tanzanian woman who doesn’t speak any English - where I have been able to get some of the best mangoes I’ve ever had for 50 cents.
Lastly, single road and double road run parallel up to the right – where many different possibilities await. Though, as you walk up double road, on either side of the street, you will find that your dirt footpath is actually quite limited. You are sandwiched between those who bring their goods to sell on the street (mostly second-hand clothing, refurbished shoes, or corny posters about love and church) and the heavily travelled road packed with cars and dala-dalas. As you walk, looking at your feet to make sure you don’t step on anything, men in shops welcome you in Swahili, hoping to sell you something along your travels to the dala-dala station. Piki-pikis lay back on their bikes, while having a drink, just outside gas stations, calling out to us in English as we walk by, hoping to get a reaction. The dangerous thing about piki-pikis is in their nickname, they are notoriously known for being pick-pocketers as well as grabbing bags as they drive by on their motorcycles. Although they are a cheap option for locals to get around town, safety comes at a cost. We have been warned not to ride on a piki-piki because of the many accidents that go un-noticed where the passenger wasn’t wearing a helmet.
On a brighter note, the great thing about Moshi is its display of religion.
As you walk down double road, you will pass a mosque and a Hindu temple just a few meters from each other.
As if the differences in religion do not play a segregated role like they do in the United States
- It is very refreshing.
Though, considering the overwhelming and chaotic sense of double road, I often find myself traveling up single road when needed. Other than the bus and dala-dala station (where we have caught a bus to Arusha for $1.50), there are only two other destinations up the road that I’ve set my sights on: Tatu Rafiki and Union Coffee.
… Which I’m sure will change the more time I spend here.
Tatu Rafiki, three friends, is a small little shop in a hostel that I heard about through another volunteer – and by far one of my favorite finds of Moshi. Tatu Rafiki is operated by three deaf Tanzanians who make batik, clothing, bags, and accessories. When you first walk in, you are immediately welcomed by their hospitality and smiles, it is a delightful experience and they will go out of their way to make exactly what you want, the way you want it (just need to make sure to use a lot of hand gestures). I purchased a bag made from a particular batik fabric that they made and I walked out with a very big smile on my face, also only having spent about $10. Before headed home, we often stop at Union Coffee just up the road past some fruit vendors. Union is another coffee shop that is marketed towards westerners, but has allegedly some of the best coffee in Northern Tanzania… I have yet to try it, sadly. Though I can vouch for their outdoor seating with a view of town and fresh fruit juice of passion fruit, pineapple, and mango.
Fresh juice flows like water here, can’t beat it.
Time to go home.
As we walk down the hill, past the shops set up on single road, we find a good spot to stand on the corner and wait in the hot sun for the dala-dala.
KCMC
‘That’s the one!’ as we wave our hands in the air, hoping that it won’t be too packed… which is either a hit or miss. If it’s packed, I am often crouched down standing on top of someone else, searching for something to hold onto – but if it’s empty, I get a seat! Either way, we climb on board, paying our standard 400 TSH or 20 cents to Ushirika, Moshi’s University. From there, we walk through the campus, down a paved road lined with Tanzania’s Christmas trees, in full bloom and down a hill to the fence that lines just outside the compound. Taking a moment to take in our surroundings, we turn to the left and see Kilimanjaro making it’s way through the clouds, just in time for dinner.
Even after a day in town when you return to the house covered in a film of dust, exhausted and possibly over stimulated by the amount of chaos in town
– I am thankful to call Moshi my place to live for the next couple months, rather than my alternative: Arusha.
