Leakage in Tanzania

Leakage. A fellow backpacker perfectly coined the term. When you are ripped off by a taxi driver, leave something behind in a hostel, get overcharged for a soft drink or bus ticket, or exchange money at the wrong rate in the black market. There's always leakage when you travel. Those inevitable monetary or material loses. For example, I got pick-pocketed a couple of days ago either on the crowded mini-bus or more likely at the train station. When I got on the train and took my wallet out (which is attached to my belt) to pay for something, no money. Just an empty pouch staring back at me. Leakage.

I arrived in Dar Es Salaam (or more commonly known as "Dar" by the locals) yesterday by train from Mbeya. The route actually begins in Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia and crosses eastward across that country and Tanzania, and through the Selous Game Reserve. It's one of the great train rides in Africa. Where else can you ride on a Chinese-made train with Swahili music pumping out of the loud speakers while catching a glimpse of passing baboons, impalas, zebras, widebeests, elephants and giraffes, or share a greasy chicken with fellow passengers or take in the mountain scenery, banana plantations and village huts.

Dar is the unofficial capital city of Tanzania and a blend of Arabic, Indian and African influences. Morning calls to prayer can be heard from the mosques as minarets poke the skyline. Samosas and chicken biriani can be easily bought. Men in ties and women in high heels rush to work while the beggers line the main post office and the traffic of honking cars and mini-buses congest the streets. Indian women wrapped in saris and the occasional Masai men wrapped in colourful red blankets walk pass men huddled in street corners sipping coffee. That is essentially Dar to me.

Other than walking around, eating well, and sleeping in a hovel, or visiting the nearby beaches, there's not much to do in Dar. I'm off to take the ferry to Zanzibar Island.