I was forewarned that we might get yelled at by the conductor for carrying too much luggage ( books for the kids as well as medications) but we decided to make the best of it and still push our way through it or pretend to be the tourists who don’t know any better. Either way, the adventure was about to begin. The cost of the entire journey- a dollar and fifty cents. That’s right people $1.50 for an hour and a half journey!!! If only things were done this way back home. Our luck, the bus is packed to the rim, we have become human sardines! No way would the conductor be able to yell at us now!
As we make our way out of the city, I am finally getting to see the real beauty of Tanzania. The lush fields, the coconut trees and the villages dispersed in between and all I hear around me is Swahili. The bus fills up with the local music: Swahili gangster rap! I love it. So much more colourful and festive than the usual stuff I hear back home.
Rafiki! Rafiki! Miss, Muzungu- get into my bajaji! – these are the words i hear as soon as I get off the Dala Dala. We are instantly surrounded by taxi drivers trying to get us to come into their vehicle. Typically, we would just walk but the rains have turned into a downpour and we decide to hop into the first bajaji (tuk tuk) in sight and make our way to our accommodation.
I am starting to learn some of my first words of Swahili and the locals are so kind. They keep saying Mambo and I just smile, until one of the men tell me that I need so say “se pova”. Mambo means, how goes you and se pova means- it’s cool. I love the slang. We are staying at Mary’s Nice Inn, an amazing two story building surrounded by papaya and coconut teas. I am greeted with chai and as I sit down and unwind, I hear the moo of a cow! I think I am in love! I am in another world and am itching to explore.
Bogamoyo unfortunately has a sad history. It was part of slave trade where Africans from the interior and the congo were held prior to being transported to work as slaves in Zanzibar and Oman. The legacy is in the roads, the ruins of the old holding cells and in the air. The legacy of pre-and post colonialism is felt within every heartbeat. The town’s name- lay down your heart- provides a dual context of the turbulent past- the locals who gave up their lives and were forced into slavery.
However, the past does not filter into the present and the future. Regardless of how little or how much everyone has here, there is always a smile on a face and everyone is friendly, either saying hello or jambo.
The ruins of Bagomoyo
We are here for a purpose. Tarek through his foundation has been able to set up three schools in Bogamayo and cater to about 65 children. I can see and feel the change already. Along with a local partner, in the last 5 years there is real difference. With his local partner, Sayeedi (the kindest man i have ever met), they have started a school to help kids as well as an art centre to help encourage the development of local talent and boy is there ever talent! Everyone on the street seems to know him and the work that is being done to benefit the community. There is always a shortage of something- books, pencils, clothing, erasers, shoes- all the items we take for granted are expensive by Tanzanian standards and most people live on less than 2 dollars a day.
Bagomoyo is a town of artists. As, I walk around town, I see artists painting, renovations being made of local historical structures and oh the doors! I spy with my little eye- zanzibari style doors! Anyone who knows me understands my fascination with these beautiful structures. Oh, I can spend hours just looking at the amazing artistry and workmanship. I can’t wait for my own one that I plan to have made in the next couple months.
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