I became friends also with a group of women from the Dawoodi Bohra Community.  We would hang out in a small cloth shop and discuss sewing and life in general.  Followers of a smaller Muslim sect the women consider themselves lucky to be covered at age 13 by a ‘tablecloth’ looking outfit, allowing more air circulation than their neighbor Muslim women totally draped in hot, black burkas or bui bui veils.  Life is all relative.

Dar es Salam was growing on us and before we knew it we were invited into friendly local, Muslim, and Hindu families.  A change of cultures from Muslim awaited us as I stopped into a small tailor’s shop to ask prices.  I was greeted by a wide, warm smile from Jesca and we became friends, possibly continuing from a previous lifetime.  A professional dress designer she creates visions of loveliness for wedding parties and with colorful African ‘kanga’ designs alike.  Another independent Tanzanian woman, she had walked out of a comfortable marriage, away from a cheating husband, with only the clothes on her back and her handbag.  Into the arms of Emmanuel several years later; he is a respected businessman, and salt of the earth family man.  We were invited to spend time with them and their 3 teenagers and one cute baby caboose daughter.  Intelligent and progressive it was an interesting look into modern professional life in Tanzania. 

More people, more weddings, more customs.  Once the parents of a Tanzanian girl accept the dowry of the groom a date is set.  A gathering is called of family members where relatives promise to help financially with a certain area of the upcoming events.  Months of planning and squeezing pocketbooks ends with possibly a party for the groom-to-be with his buddies and a ‘kitchen party’ for the bride- to-be and her girlfriends.  Next we attended a ‘Send Off’ party where traditionally the bride is sent off by her family to be married and to live in the home of the groom’s family.  Often this was a distance from her home and it used to be a final parting.  A modern version with loud music followed the traditional guidelines of giving gifts of mainly ‘kangas’ colorful cloth wraps used for everything in the home, kitchenware, and three different bibles with hopes that the couple will remember their Christian guidelines for marriage.  Even a refrigerator was ‘danced in’ and presented to the excited couple. Family members from both sides danced tribal dances for the bride (He He and Bena tribes).  During this fun part I was invited to get up and shake my booty with the rest of Emmanuel’s family.  Then the bride searched for her lost husband hiding in the crowd and formally presented him to the attendees, before eating dinner and having everyone file by wishing them the best in their new life together.  One of the highlights is when excited women in the crowd let out a warbling cry from their throats to express their excitement or glee at the festivities.  A costly but fun evening this will be repeated by the groom’s family at the wedding.  We all agreed maybe a simpler event, with the extra money going towards the young couple’s life and/or education would be a better trend than families scraping by to ‘keep up with the Jones’s (or Rwegasawas).

The following Sat night we were taken to “Mango Gardens” for a wild night of dancing outdoors under the stars with the locals.   Walking in we saw at least 8 sets of different drums and 10 microphones set up for the energetic band.  We got lost in the wild rhythm and even with my ‘hakuna matako’ (no butt) we picked up some new moves; learning how ‘bongo butts’ as they are called really rule on the dance floor.  We danced until we dropped, not even noticing it was 2am.  What energy!  We were later welcomed into Jesca and Emmanuel’s home one Sunday for a pleasant evening and meal together.  We hope to stay in touch and maybe even meet in Dubai during one of their business trips.

We were also thankful to share a meal and later a picnic at the beach with Anna and her pretty young daughter.  Living in a local neighborhood one hour from the center of Dar es Salam we enjoyed our time getting to know them and learning about life in Tanzania.  Anna works for the Dept. of Immigration and is working with Joseph’s library to pass it around to as many receivers as possible.

We stayed on the top floor at the YMCA and Hana and other guests became like a family after 3 weeks.  We felt at home in the surrounding Indian neighborhood buying our fruits and vegetables from the street markets, sharing a coconut on the shady corner, or visiting Hindu or Hari Krisha Temples.  During one ceremony we were shocked by a loud banging and clanging of drums and bells in the adjacent temple.  Wanting to check it out in our usual “not wanting to miss anything” we burst into laughter to see an automated drum/bell temple noise maker.  Only the creative Indian culture would come up with that one. 

One evening while wandering the streets we were befriended by an elderly Indian man who knew absolutely everyone in the community.  He walked us around to his favorite samosa shop then temple, where we were welcomed with open arms for lunch everyday for the next 2.5 weeks for the best authentic Indian food this side of Delhi.  We gave a donation daily to help them feed the 100+ street people outside after the main meal and reveled in the food, pujas and friendships of our new Hindu family. Most temple goers were 2nd or 3rd generation Indians in Dar es Salam and only spoke Swahili or Hindi.  A sweet and spicy taste of India all in Dar.  Sure glad we gave Dar es Salam a second chance!   

Often time passes and it seems not much happens in life.   Other times so much goes on that our head is whirling.  Being in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania; Nairobi, Kenya; Entebbe, Uganda; Cairo, Egypt and winging my way to New York City and Colorado all within 24 hours is definitely a day to remember.  The excitement of seeing the kids and my Mom was the only thing that kept me vertical.

Grab your flying goggles; flying is still the safest way to travel (statistics claim even safer than lying  in your bath tub).  Except that is if you flush the airplane toilet while sitting on it.  In 2001 a passenger became vacuumed- sealed to a lavatory seat and ground mechanics had to pry her loose after the plane landed, unharmed but slightly sore.  A definite travel tip to remember. 

Humans have always longed to take to the skies.  People have jumped off cliffs wearing wooden or feather wings or stuffed themselves in cannons in an effort to get airborne.  It has taken a lot of clever, brave and even crazy people, including Orville and Wilbur Wright (1903), to get this flying obsession off the ground.  Now at any given time there are a million planes in the skies.  After the crowded daladala trucks of Tanzania, flying again was like entering a whole new dimension.  Large modern airports bring together interesting people, cultures, language & dress from every corner of the globe.  Everyone trying to get somewhere fast.