Malaria is nothing to joke about in Africa. Before I went to Tanzania, I saw the Embassy doctor in Dhaka and asked for advice. The map she pulled out to show where there is a malaria risk in the country was all colored in red, as in all high risk.
There are just three anti malaria medications and none of them comes without side effects. I was given Doxycycline, which is just a regular antibiotic. Doxy is the type of malaria medication that you have to take everyday.
People warned me I’d have crazy dreams “in living color.” I never comprehended what they meant when they said they dreamt in color. I always thought I dreamt in color. I still do think that, but the colors I saw in my dreams on the malaria meds were way more intense than my normal dreams. When I awoke from my first dream I thought that if it was preserved on a film it could really win some movie award. My dreams have never felt more real, too. I felt like they taped into some part of my brain where memories that I rarely think about are kept.
Many people complain about the doxy, to the point of switching to a milder type of medicine. What did it for me was the Dar es Salaam nurse confessing that her doxy dreams included running a very profitable brothel from her garage. I guess I did not want to break any anti trafficking law, even in my dreams , so I decided to just take the chance and rely solely on the bug spray.
I like to think of myself as an adventuresome person. I have tried skydiving, piloting a plane, whitewater rafting, traveling to “out-of-the-way, locals-only, if-you-get-lost-no one-will-find-you” places. But NOTHING could have prepared me for the unique experience/thrill/power-prayer-time that is public transportation in Tanzania.The name of the local buses come from a bastardization of the English word “Dollar”. When the daladalas started servicing Tanzania a trip was equal to a “dollar” or two (hence, “dollar-dollar”). These days, a trip on the daladala costs less, but the name has stuck.
To begin with, what the heck is a daladala? In order to discover the answer to that question, you need to ride one. But unless you are a little bit suicidal, is safer to just get a mental picture of what it encompasses…Imagine a minibus, usually Toyota or Isuzu and an early model. Inside everything is stripped so more seats can fit in. Forget the trunk space, all the luggage can go on top. Once the seats are all in – and covered in vinyl – it becomes necessary to upholster the ceiling with your choice of loud, budget hotel lobby carpet and install some sort of pipe as a handrail on the ceiling. On the outside of the bus is necessary to paint a brightly colored strip all the way around. After you have the basics down you can decorate your daladala with inspirational messages like “God is Great” or “Viva Manchester United” or “Still Alive” on the back and front windows. Or you can let your imagination go wild and have paintings of Tupac or soccer players.
Now the daladala is ready for passengers. If you want to catch a daladala it is important to master the “forward-jostle” method, as well as the “Yo! I want on that bus!” wave. Once mastering these important methods has been accomplished, you wait at the side of the road for awhile. Seeing your bus approaching you try out your wave … and get a wave back from the conductor as it speeds on by. Another bus approaches and you are delighted to see that it is stopping. As you run towards the door you can estimate that there are at least 60 people crammed inside. No matter, at least 15 more will fit in, 20 if there are small children.
Practicing your “forward-jostle” you are able to physically get your front half and feet on the bus and at least one hand on a cleverly placed pipe. The rest of you is hanging off the bus but the conductor swings up and presses you in a little more as you speed off. The conductor, whose body is currently very close to yours and actually keeping you on the bus, is excellent at multitasking as he is somehow able to hold on, collect money, give back change, make small talk with passing vehicles, yell out the stops and remember when and where you want to get off.
Now, I really feel I must to say this for the squeamish – if you’re protective of your own private space, perhaps the dala isn’t for you. Be prepared to spread your legs for passengers, bags, truck suspension systems, chickens, babies and have various body parts, including butts, pressed up against your face; and since you’re probably the only mzungu (foreigner), expect to partake in jokes at your own expense. Why? – because anything goes on a dala. And as you approach your stop you can yell “stop” and off you go, still alive to see Manchester play and praise God!
And the best of all, for only 400 Tanzania Shillings (about an US quarter) all these thrills can be yours. Nothing in the US can even compare. Nothing like living on the edge…
