Woke up at 6AM to catch the 7AM bus. Free breakfast was included with my hotel booking, so I took a few bites before taking a quick shower. As i rushed outside, the lady at the front desk reminded me not to give more than 5,000 shillings to the bajaj (a kind of motorized three wheeled vehicle) driver. I told her about how much I paid the previous day when i went to the ticket office, and she stifled a laugh. For obvious first time tourists, these bajaj drivers always ask 10,000 Shillings or more. If you pretend that it’s not your first time and tell them you know how much it should cost, a ride from my hotel to the bus station only costs 4,000- 5,000 shillings. But of course that’s the tourist rate. For locals they only ask for 1,000 shillings. I arrived at the bus station with fifteen minutes to spare. I haven’t even gone down yet and a lot of people where shoving overpriced tickets at my face. As expected the driver asked for 10,000 shillings. I only gave him 5,000. lol. He didn’t seem to mind so I got out. When i got out of his tricycle more people were trying to sell me tickets and it’s hard to walk through the thick crowd. I told them all that i already have a ticket, so some just offered to carry my bags for me. No thank you, I can carry em all by myself. Eventually i found my way to my bus.
One of the volunteers in Moshi told me to either take the Kilimajaro Express Bus or the Dar Express bus, the two luxury bus lines in Tanzania. When I asked him which is better, he said the Kilimajaro buses are more reliable so I took that. Take the term luxury with a grain of salt. These are luxury buses in terms of Sub Saharan African standards, not western standards. The buses have no air conditioning. Seats were worn out. I paid 33,000 shillings for a one way ticket, the ordinary buses cost less than half of that. So what’s the difference between a luxury bus and and ordinary bus? Luxury buses have fewer stops. Luxury buses also come with a snack and a drink. You can also select seats in advance in a luxury bus. Luxury buses also have a TV where they showed local soap operas and some folks singing praise music. Not the kind of shows i would watch, but I did find them interesting since they gave me a glimpse of the local culture, and the shows also helped me brush up my Swahili. i was glued to the TV sets whenever i wasn’t taking a nap lol. Also, in ordinary buses, animals like chickens are allowed inside. These are not allowed in luxury buses, though i saw one lady sneak in a live chicken and hid it under the seat.
The bus ride was supposed to last for 9 hours. But as i will find out in the coming days, everything is pole-pole (slow) in Africa. One local told me that, and I have to agree with her. We stopped for lunch somewhere, i just grabbed a snack since i wasn’t really hungry. 9 hours have passed and Moshi was still a long way according to my GPS. I then noticed some smoke that seemed to be coming from under the bus. I ignored it at first, but then the smoke grew thicker. The passenger beside me noticed it as well and he informed the driver who just dismissed it, he basically said it’s nothing to worry about. Then on our next stop people from outside were shouting and pointing at the bus. This caused panic among my fellow passengers, and everyone was rushing to get out of the bus. i didn’t know what else to do so I joined them. When I got down i saw that the bus was on fire. After about 5 minutes, something exploded from underneath and people ran away from the bus, afraid that the entire bus might explode soon. I had to grab my bag though from the luggage compartment, all my stuff were still there! No second explosion occurred, but obviously the bus was already out of commission. This was supposed to be a luxury bus eh? How the f*ck would I get to Moshi. We were in the middle of the highway with no other means of public transport in sight. And it was already dark. What an epic way to start my Tanzanian adventure. I was just 3 days in and something exciting and dangerous was already happening.
Being the only non black person on the bus, i was sticking out like a sore thumb. Once everyone had calmed down, people started asking me where I was headed. I am always wary of strangers while traveling, but I didn’t have much of a choice did I? lol. It was hard to understand them though since they were all talking so fast, probably from all the excitement. Luckily, the person beside me on the bus spoke good English so I was able to tell him exactly where I was headed. He said i had two options. I could wait for the next bus going to town like the other people, but we didn’t know how long we would be waiting. Alternatively i could hitch a ride on a moped. Several of them have passed already and they were headed to town. It’s just gonna take around 40 minutes. I chose that option and he hailed the next moped that passed. The man driving it agreed to drive me to the hostel. Easier said than done. For some reason, the map to the hostel was really vague. And to be blunt, it was somewhat inaccurate (i did fix this problem when I tinkered with their web site during my stay. Hopefully it won’t be hard to find for others anymore). We did arrive in Moshi after about 40 minutes, but we just couldn’t find the hostel. And everyone we asked never heard of the place. My new friend/ lifesaver recommended that I stay in another hostel near the town center and just look for Old Moshi Hostel in the morning. I said let’s try asking another person first. An old lady passed by and she told us she knew where the hostel was. Hallelujah! But then it turned out that the place she was talking about was no longer a hostel. It was now a private property. Sensing that we were already very tired, the owner of the house asked if i had a contact number of the hostel that he could call. I gave him the number and one of the hostel employees answered. So the hostel was just a 5 minute walk away. After a couple of minutes, we arrived at Old Moshi Hostel. The owner of the moped didn’t ask anything in return, he said he was happy to help. I still gave him 5,000 Shillings for all that trouble. I had to give him something to show my appreciation. Once I checked in, i asked why no one seemed to have heard of the place when it’s not even a new hostel. One of the staff said it was a precaution. Once locals are aware that a certain place is a hostel where foreigners stay, it becomes a target for thieves. I found that a bit odd since several hotels and hostels had prominent signs outside. And how could the locals not know that it’s a hostel when foreigners can be seen going out and coming in regularly. it’s not like people with fairer skin can blend in perfectly. But i was too tired to make arguments. I just had dinner and then quickly fell asleep.
While searching for volunteer work, the NGO that i found first was Foot2Afrika. However, they only accept long term volunteers (3 months or more). For short term volunteer work, i was directed to Old Moshi Hostel, where most of their volunteers stay. The hostel manager would hook you up with various NGOs in Moshi depending on you skills and interests. There are no placement fees, you just have to stay at their hostel for them to earn some income. With two meals already included, i considered it as steal. Frequent power outages or load shedding are a daily occurrence in Moshi. Usually there’s no power for 8 hours daily. One time we had no power for 16 hours! i was out doing volunteer work for most of the day so the load shedding didn’t really bother me, but it does get on your nerves a night. The heat makes it hard to sleep. More expensive hotels have their own power generators, but backpacker hostels don’t. That’s one thing to consider before committing to any volunteer work in Moshi.
When I woke up, the hostel owner/ manager was already waiting for me outside. She said we’ll take a tour of the town on my first day. She showed me where to find ATMs and money changers, where the good places to eat are, where to buy food, and where I can hang out and meet fellow volunteers and travelers. Moshi is mainly known for two things: Volunteer work and Mt. Kilimajaro. Every traveler who’s planning to climb Mt. Kilimajaro stay in Moshi for a few days. She also taught me how to ride public transport. The cheaper one is the Dala Dala. It’s basically a modified minivan that passes through certain routes. They configured the seats to accomodate more passengers. Instead of accommodating just 12 people, 30 people can fit inside. I couldn’t believe it at first, but i counted how many we were inside the dala dala several times, and yes there were 30 of us. Some were just standing, but yes 30 people can fit. lol. A more expensive but less cramped option would be to ride a bodaboda, or a motorcyle/ moped. It’s much more expensive, but a bodaboda can take you to your destination directly. Really convenient of you’re pressed for time.We also went to several volunteer sites to see which ones I am interested in besides doing volunteer work in the local health center. We went to schools, some orphanages, and a juvenile detention facility. While walking around town, lots of kids were pointing and smiling at me and shouting “Mzungu!” which confused me at first. From my knowledge of basic Swahili, i knew that it meant dizzy. I found that puzzling. Do I look dizzy to these kids? Turns out Mzungu is also a slang word for anyone who’s not black. It was originally used for Europeans who first set foot in Africa, looking lost or “dizzy”. I’ve met some volunteers who found it offensive when the locals call them that, and i tell them they shouldn’t be offended. Clearly the locals do not mean to offend judging by the way they use and speak the word. Mzungu simply means you’re not black. They don’t say it to ridicule or make fun of outsiders. If i had a dollar every time kids on the street shouts Mzungu when they see me, I would be rich already. I guess people with lighter skin tones are a rare sight in the part of town where i was staying (I was staying at the outskirts of Moshi) that i became a novelty of sorts. All the children would shout and wave, some even follow me around every time i pass by. And the smile on their faces whenever they see a Mzungu is highly contagious. I couldn’t help but smile every time I’m walking on the streets.
I’m a doctor in my home country so it made sense for me to volunteer in healthcare. Volunteering in the local healthcare center was pretty basic stuff, and there are people there to help you with things. They are actually independent, I was just there to help with a couple of things. i did recognize mismanagement in some cases, but I’m not a licensed physician in Tanzania so i didn’t have much say. And stepping on a local doctor’s ego is a complete no-no. If ever i saw something highly questionable, I just direct the patients to seek a second opinion elsewhere heh. The best part were our visits to local tribes in the hills and forests. These people have no access to healthcare due to the fact that they are isolated. They rely on volunteers from other countries for healthcare. I came during the low season for volunteers so I was the only doctor visiting the tribes during my stay. It was really overwhelming at first, but once i got the hang of it, everything went smoothly. And i never felt such fulfillment in my entire life. The sense of joy that I felt was one of a kind, it truly was a life changing experience. It’s not all good though. I felt bad whenever i saw patients that I could not treat, like those needing some surgery so I had to refer them to a hospital back in town, and I was fully aware that they would not go to town to seek treatment. One case was even disturbing. I saw a 3 year old girl with what looked like a sexually transmitted illness. The NGO workers who were with me just advised me not to ruffle some feathers and just refer the child to a hospital in town and let the doctors there file the necessary reports. i couldn’t even give her initial treatment because we didn’t have any medications with us that can treat her illness.Times like that, i felt helpless and shackled.
When we got back at the hostel after a day of walking around town, I was welcomed by one of the staff of Foot2Afrika. He coaches a local football team, and he asked me if i wanted to join their practice sessions. It’s been a while since I’ve last played football, but since I did not have anything to do during afternoons, i figured why the hell not. There are actually two groups, one for kids below ten years, and the other group, which are more competitive, are for teenagers. I chose to just play and teach the kids so that i wouldn’t look like a poser lol. The teenagers were obviously more skilled than I was, i wouldn’t be able to teach them anything about football. I did conduct several lectures regarding common sports injuries and first aid techniques which proved to be beneficial. I watched them play against teams from other nearby towns on some weekends and those kids were really good. it’s also fulfilling when i saw them apply the things i taught them every time one of their team mates got injured.
So that’s what i did during afternoons, but i still had the middle of the day free. On my first few days I just took a nap, but eventually i grew tired of my daily schedule.And it’s hard to take a nap during the middle of the day when there’s load shedding. I asked the hostel owner what other volunteer work she could recommend. She told me most people volunteer at preschools where they teach basic English. I have never taught anyone basic English, but i thought i could give it a shot. When I got to the school, there was already another volunteer there, some girl from Germany. And there were three locals who were regular teachers. There were only about 30 students, i wondered how else could i help out, they seemed to be overstaffed already. Turns out those kids were a handful lol.
After one teaching session, the teacher announced that it was play time. Being the new teacher, every kid came to me, each kid was asking me to carry him or her. That was the first time in my entire life that I was mobbed lol. One grabbed my Kofia (hat) and claimed it as his own. The next thing i knew, 5 kids were clinging on to me, and there were more holding on to me, trying to find their way up from my legs to my torso. The German girl was just laughing. When she came close, she told me that’s how it is on everyone’s first day. After about ten minutes of that, the children were called to sing and dance to some local nursery rhymes. I was dead tired. i felt as if I just ran a marathon. After play time they had their meals, and a number of children still couldn’t feed themselves on their own so i was able to do some real help. I spoon fed two kids. That gave me a glimpse of how my life would be once i have child of my own lol. The next couple of days were less tiring. During play time less children mobbed me, but they all still wanted me to carry them one by one. After two weeks, two of the local teachers left, turns out they were only there for a practicum of sorts. that was when i was able to show my teaching skills— or lack thereof. lol. It was real awkward at first, but once i got the hang of it, things went smoothly. Mostly it was just teaching simple stuff like colors, numbers and animals. Sometimes i read them short stories in English. Out of the three volunteer jobs i did, this was the most tiring but it also was the most enjoyable. You wouldn’t mind being tired when you see all those happy children around you. I got so used to my daily routine in Moshi that I felt sad when i left. After making such an impact to all these people, how could i ever go back to my mundane life in my home country. That month i spent in Moshi was such a life changing experience. During my stay one of the locals told me, a lot of westerners go to Africa with the goal of trying to change things. Then when they leave they realize that Africa is actually the one that changed them. i couldn’t help but agree. Any individual can make an impact while volunteering. But that impact is nothing compared to the effect the entire experience would have on you. Africa has so much beauty, but the fulfillment i felt while volunteering is the one thing that would bring me back.
no roads to follow 
One thought on “Mzungu Days :)”