So it was a Friday morning. The weather was good and I left on time for work with my bicycle that I had bought just two days before. I cycled in heels, a mini skirt and my bag that says ‘boy bye’ was hanging from the left handle. To quote Thanos, ‘Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.‘
I ended up cycling thrice around a park.
For the first few days in Bonn, I had to live at a hostel because finding a place to I can sleep and eat comfortably at for a few months needed to be the most difficult thing. I stayed at a place called Max Hostel and the receptionists there are the nicest I’ve ever met. I was welcomed with a smile each morning. That was one of the two things that made the painful first week in Bonn bearable, the other being that I’m at the UN!!!
The people in Bonn are very nice, foreigners and locals alike. The streets are beautiful, the trains and buses are packed in the mornings and evenings and I like it because it gives me that big city feeling. And maybe it’s just because it’s summer, but I love how a lot of people here choose to cycle instead of using cars and contributing to the horrific tale of global warming. (Me here wishing Dar es Salaam found a way to deal with the overflow of cars in the city). I still haven’t seen Bonn properly, but I have 6 months to do that and more and I’m really looking forward to all it.
Here’s the view from my room, you know, what I stare at when listening to the Jonas Brothers’ album Happiness Begins and thinking of ways to make friends in the city and not embarrass myself by getting lost every morning.
Oh and the river in the featured photo is the Rhine đ
In the evening the sun goes down behind the palm trees, slowly, like how the noises change. You wonât know how it went from hearing cacophonies from the streets to the sound of Bongo Flava blasting on speakers not far from where you sleep. If youâre still in the city center sunset will be the time when cars start excessively honking at one another. The smell of used fished oil is usually the same everywhere. I guess somehow the entire city decided to use similar oil brands. Walking along the Kivukoni Front I canât ever help but overhear the many discussions going on among the vendors. Most times it’s about the latest government scandal to hit the news stands. Sometimes it’s about Ali Kiba and Diamond just after one of them releases a new music video. Other times it’s arguments between Yanga FC and Simba FC hardcore fans and these ones usually happen on Monday morning at the cobblerâs booth which also happens to serve coffee.
As I sat in the cold at the SchonĂ«beck station in November 2017 I realized how my world had changed in just three months. I remember going back home in August after spending a month in the US. I felt so angry when I got out of the plane. In my head I thought, âin comparison to JFK this looks like something out of an apocalyptic movie.â It was shock coming from having to face intense heat and watching âTanzanians being Tanzaniansâ. It all started in Doha when I was waiting for the last of three flights back home. I sat at the airport with a big white pillow on my lap trying to distract myself from all the eyes that were looking at me and the fact that at that moment I realized how loud we Tanzanians could be. What annoyed me the most was that some Tanzanians there were complaining about something in a way that made it look like weâre all like that. It was government taxes, flights, heat, and I was silently complaining to my subconscious about them complaining about stuff.
So I saw my mum and dad at the airport, they were all happy to see me. I could see it in their eyes, they were excited to hear stories from New York and I had plenty all leading down to ‘Tanzania needs to get its act together!’ Why were we so awful at just everything? I spent the entire drive back home trying to avoid talking because I was so frustrated that after we get out of the car I would have to live without air conditioning for another month until I come to Germany. It was probably 30 something Celsius, who cares anyway, and this was supposed to be some sort of âwinterâ or the end of it, (HashtagTropicalClimate).
In that month I couldnât get anywhere around the city without something to wipe my face every 2 minutes. Itâs just hot and the worst thing is that most of the Tanzanian public doesnât allow us to dress according to the weather. If we did that we would be beaten by âangryâ men in the streets and humiliated on every gossip newspaper in circulation. Thatâs just Tanzania for you.
However, in that month, I came to realize how I love my city so much. I wouldnât say I genuinely love my entire country so much because honestly, Iâve only been to three cities in the 20 years of living there. In August, after seeing a different side of the world for the first time I was now able to view Dar es Salaam from a new angle. The fact is Dar es Salaam isnât the best there is, there are better things out there, but its uniqueness is what makes it special, what makes it home to 5 million people. Thereâs just something nostalgic about the strong smell of the Indian Oceanâs saltiness as you walk by the Hyatt Regency every morning to work or to catch a city bus at the main bus stop. Dar es Salaam might seem like this typical African city with thousands of street vendors among 5 million people living in a fully heated oven, most of us without air conditioning. But the beauty in all of it lies in the feeling of belonging to something that is greater than me as an individual; the struggle that the name âDar es Salaamâ embodies in the eyes of the 50 million people in other parts of the country. Like every other country, Tanzania also has that place where people go in the hopes of âmaking itâ and finding peace in life. After all, it does mean âhaven of peaceâ.
Jangwani, Dar es Salaam. Captured by @i_am_racker
Here’s the view from my room, you know, what I stare at when listening to the Jonas Brothers’ album Happiness Begins and thinking of ways to make friends in the city and not embarrass myself by getting lost every morning.
the writing nib 