Blending In

I hear so many bad stories about Africa when people discover my adventures there; anything from skin infesting larva to death by malaria and more. I could tell you a few of my own like the time... no, no. That kind of stuff you hear enough about. I want to tell you some good stories.

During one trip I was trying to get from Nairobi, Kenya to Arusha, Tanzania. There was a tourist shuttle one agent told me then another. It's cheap and efficient I was told. The ride is about eight or nine hours allowing time for drop offs and the border crossing and the cost is only twenty something dollars and completely safe was the rumor. So I booked it.

I arrived on my international flight very late the evening before. The same driver who drove me from the airport to the hotel also picked me up that morning promptly at ten o'clock from the luxurous Stanley hotel; a place that brought me directly into the pages of so many books I had read on the early explorers, safari goers and operators. The hotel opened its doors in 1902. One could almost hear the walls speak of the history the hotel had witnessed. I had a leisurely breakfast at the Thorn Tree restaurant sitting in the same location where perhaps Denys Fintch Hatton, Lord Delamere or Karen Blixon herself had taken tea.

We proceeded straight from historic luxury to a mud filled Nairobi back street lined with mini vans. My driver walked me to the one that I was to catch. There were a couple of local gentlemen already inside the van sitting quietly. My driver loaded my backpack in the hatch and directed me to get in and wait and he left.... More local black men loaded into the van some in suits others in jeans. One Maasai got in wearing all of his beads and shuka, (red draped cloth). All was quiet on the outside but inside my mind raced, screamed, cursed; what the hell are you doing I was asked myself.

Finally when the van was full to the brim a driver showed up and asked if we were all traveling to Arusha. That was the first time I heard anyone of the group speak. But when the van was cranked at eleven fifty - on time by Africas' standards - it was as if life was cranked into these passengers too. They began to chat and laugh; one began to hum. I tried to act as if I was completely comfortable and belonged in that van just as much as anyone else on it. But truthfully I was the only female and the only white person standing out like a red rose in the snow and well aware of this fact.

This shuttle was to drop each person off at their final destination in Arusha not at a bus terminal or drop point. I was being dropped at the Novotel Mount Meru Hotel. We were due to arrive at five thirty, just before dark.

Well, let's see now. I remember specifically breaking down three times but it may have been four or even five as I became numb after awhile and although I still faked serenity on the outside I shook my head back and forth inside and wondered what the hell I had done and if I were going to survive this experience. When the van puttered to a stop the driver would lift a compartment between him and the front seat passenger whereby the engine was accessable - I have never seen such before or after - and work on the problem for ages then the van would crank and we would be on our way again. Some time we stayed in the van; other times we got out and stood by the road. Keep in mind we are in africa; lions, leopards and all of the usual cast of Lion King characters were out there with us.... The other passengers acted as if this were absolutely no big deal and I played along - on the outside.

We finally arrived at the Kenya/Tanzania border post with another one hundred and sixty seven miles to go. Border crossings are a place where human predators come out in droves and this one was no exception. We all had to disembark the van and stand in line to get our passport inspected and stamped. As I stood outside in the swealtering heat, my backpack thrown over my shoulder, a scruffy frightening looking man - who appeared high staggering and stammering -began to approach me. Before he could reach me a man who was on my same van that I had barely noticed before stepped between me and this stranger. He spoke in Swahili in a tone I took to be powerful. The scruffy man yelled at my van mate threw up his hands and walked away. My van mate never looked at me but shadowed me the entire time we were at the border and out of the van and did not get back into the van until after I did. I know he was protecting me. It was actually quite astonishing.

Luckly as it got dark we did not breakdown again however we came very close to hitting a wild dog which is an endangered predator in Africa (aka painted dog). I peered out the front windshield for the next close encounter to be an elephant or hippo or something else dark in color and hard to see at night that would be crossing the road in front of us; but no.

Finally at eleven thirty, three hours late, I was dropped off at my hotel. As I got out I looked at the man who assisted me at the border and said thank you. He just nodded his head once and looked away. My Tanzanian driver/guide was waiting in the lobby for me with a fresh glass of cold juice. (I have no idea how he knew when I was arriving to have the cold glass poured in advance.... I was just damn glad he was there.)

I got to my room and at first was mad at myself for doing such a dangerous and stupid thing of booking that van. Then I became proud. I was proud and grateful of the man who watched over me. And I was proud of a new sence of trust that overcame me and that stays with me today. In general most people are good, honest, trustworthy and only want the best for their fellow man; or fellow white female tourist, as the case may be.

It's very easy to assume the worst in people. However if you give people a chance they will teach you to assume the best instead especially in Africa where the human spirit is alive and well.

(Note there are no photos of this van or anything along the route as I was tourist enough without pulling out my camera!)