Umbrella Workers

Umbrella Workers
can you say union?

07 January 2008

Mzungu Down!

DSM, April 2007

So friends from Stateside graced us with their presence in Dar es Salaam. I figured, what better way to welcome them to Tanzania, than a bike ride round Dar? After all, most of their trip was going to be tourist-y, cush, nice hotels and land cruisers, tropical beaches and wildlife safaris and all that. But we don’t want American visitors to get the wrong idea about TZ—it is one of the poorest countries on the planet’s poorest continent, right?

Mejah is a partner in a small, Dar-based, company that specializes in slightly offbeat tours. He also has a tremendous social conscience, some seriously long dreads, and an impressive collection of “beater” mountain bikes. I’ve met no Tanzanian more into cycling than Mejah.

The “reality bike tour” ™ takes tourists to parts of DSM rarely seen by foreigners—namely, teeming, dirt-strewn, neighborhoods with no running water, no electricity, and apparently no sanitary way to dispose of waste. It’s an eye-opener, even for Heather and I, who have lived in DSM for four months.

After peddling thought some not-so-bad ‘hoods, we walked our bikes down a muddy, narrow right-of-way and into some sadly impoverished areas. Shortly after, we found ourselves by a fast-flowing creek with some of the nastiest water this side of New Orleans, post-Katrina. A small, poorly built wooden footbridge crossed the big muddy. If there was a picture of a rickety bridge in the dictionary, this one would be featured!

A few of us had pushed our bikes across when Joel ambled onto the bridge. Halfway across the 15-foot span, and before you could shout “mzungu (whitey) down!”, one of the planks snapped! While the bike remained on the bridge, brother Joel almost face-planted into the mud-cum-garbage. He was lucky not to land in the “creek.”

A nasty cut on his leg but Mejah broke out the first-aid kit and Joel is a doctor, after all. Joel’s also a real trooper; we pedaled another five hours and then boogied down to a Ugandan band before he found his way to our shower. Gadzooks!

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