Tanzania, Adventure and Culture | Tanzania Travel Tips

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Tanzania, Adventure and Culture

Author: Ian Williamson

Tanzania culture and adventure need not be found in the Tanzania safari, it can be found in everyday Tanzanian life.

Joshua with the enigmatic smile; Joshua sad sad Joshua. I met him in Northern Tanzania as several Pastors bickered at his fathers graveside as to who would actually conduct the service. Joshua’s father was a nice man, he loved life and drink and women. He died very quickly from the HIV/Aids in a Tanzanian State Hospital. He was not particularly a religious man but occasionally visited several churches over the years. He was not big on commitment. Each Church now claimed this lifeless carcass as theirs to bury in the fertile Tanzania ground.

The one Pastor who could lay claim to this family’s welfare kept quiet not wanting to shame himself nor the Tanzania church. It was the career pastors who bickered and whined. Life is hard in Tanzania and this was a chance for them to give a good sermon to a large audience.

I paid little attention, it was Tanzania’s dry season. I looked for my friend from Southern Tanzania on the border of Zambia – Mama Lumuli – someone to speak to in English. All the Tanzania women were covered in their colorful Kangas; pulled up over their heads. The women were anonymous, a sea of colorful printed cotton. Maybe two hundred women - I would never find her.

So, my attention was drawn to the little boy, whose fathers body was now a point of depute. His mother was still young but poor. She was uneducated, had never held a job and was unemployable. She had six boys to worry about. The women grieved and mourned for the loss of the breadwinner. There is no social state in Tanzania. The father of Joshua maybe he was not a good father, but now he was gone; six boys to feed and school, the women wailed their grief.

Joshua looked up at me. He did not have an easy future ahead of him. His mother is resourceful though and she will have to be in order that her family survive.

There is a white teacher that comes sometimes from England. Usually around Easter he comes for a week maybe two. But he never notices this family and is more interested in the building rather than the community. Everyone posing for photographs and pretending always pretending.

The white uses his magic tricks, trickery, to entertain and to teach. The children love it the adults like it too. Although some think this is evil and believe the magic to be real. This man stays in my house. I speak English and have lived for some time in U.K. I also have two bathrooms with one of them having a sit down toilet. Usually we have the squat toilets, the Americans and the British do not like to squat they like to sit.

Once a white man brought some of his family. My house was very overcrowded. One night his daughter slept in the same room as her father. It was innocent, I made sure of that. But it shocked everyone in the community; shocked them to the very marrow of their bones. A grown man to sleep with his daughter is such a big shame. So very scandalous.

I am tired. I am more interested on how do I keep young Joshua fed and alive. No more children to die, this is what I want. My very good friend, his baby died last year because he didn’t have US$50 to treat his daughter. When the white man from England found out he said he was very sorry. He was too. He liked my friends family.

I don’t want this to happen again – a child to die for the want of a few dollars. I plan to leave this small town and move to the city. I have been offered a job in another place, away from my home but the money is good. So maybe I will be forced to move my lazy bones to this strange city. Don’t get me wrong - I like the city - so it won’t be a sacrifice - but I will miss the community.

About the Author:

Tanzania information and Tanzania safaris and travel – for more information on the

culture and travel in Tanzania see http://www.thejumapage.co.uk these interactive

pages are for communal use. Free advise and information available from this site.