Sylvia's Journal

I never got to see Mount Kilimanjaro. It was always in the clouds and on departure from Kilimanjaro airport I sat on the wrong side of the plane. To make up for this, the decorators of the Kilimanjaro Kempinski hotel in Dar es Salaam have hung a huge photo of the top of the mountain above my desk. Now I can look at the mountain to my heart’s content for the next 5 days.

I took the Precision Air shuttle to the Kilimanjaro airport, saving US taxpayers US$60. I recognized some of my fellow passengers as the graduates from the Trade Policy course. We traveled in an odd looking plane, with luggage stored between us and the pilot. The plane was full of French, Dutch and British tourists on their way to Zanzibar, our first stop before landing in Dar es Salam.

The driver who took me to my hotel started talking about Bush as soon as he heard I was from the US. What a good man he was to have come all the way to Tanzania. I asked whether his visit had been very disruptive, traffic wise. One would expect a professional taxi driver to complain about such things; but no, it had been wonderful. He had stood along the road where people had waved little American flags. For the first kilometer, large lightboxes in the divider strip proudly speak of Tanzania-US unity in English and Kiswahili (Umoja). After one kilometer they are empty again waiting for new messages of friendship.

My driver was particularly impressed with Bush’s having danced with the Maasai. He kept mentioning it, complimenting me on having a president who is a good dancer; really, the things you learn while abroad, I had no idea. His handshakes with common people, his visit to a school and to ‘unabled’ children all added up to leave a big impression here. We then turned to the current elections. Everyone I have met so far is following the elections with great interest. An elderly gentleman who teaches at the institute told me, ‘mark my words, McCain will win!” There is also a fear of Obama getting shot. I understand that that is a fear that is particularly prominent in the US black community and it seems to have made its way to Africa. My driver did not know that it was Obama’s father who was a Kenyan (he thought it was his mother) and the idea that a simple villager from Kenya had produced a son who had produced what might become the next US President clearly caught his fancy. He was speechless for a moment and then broke out in a big grin. The Tanzanians don’t particularly like the Kenyans, who are loud, aggressive and too tribal in their eyes (the current crisis is no surprise to them); but vis-à-vis the US, they are brothers.

As it happens, I am staying in the same hotel that Bush stayed in. Of course for him it was emptied of ordinary people. I asked the bell boy what it had been like and he said it was very exciting, especially all these security people and CIA and FBI, things he knows only from Hollywood films, right here in his hotel! He too was impressed with the whole show, and in particular with how hard these Americans worked (day and night).

I, too, am impressed. Bush’s visit added two more stars to the hotel’s five star rating (according to my driver). It is of a luxury that I haven’t seen much in Africa. The bathroom looks like an advertisement in Modern European Plumbing (Italian), with floor to ceiling glass windows looking into the bedroom. They are covered with louvered shades for privacy, which I don’t need. I can watch TV (watching the homecoming of Prince Harry over and over on BBC) while sitting in the tub and look out over Dar es Salaam at the same time.

I had contacted one of my students in a virtual course a few years ago. She is the only one from the team I was able to reach by phone. As it happened she is now working closely with Marc who used to work at MSH during my first 12 years there. And as it happened he is in Dar es Salaam, so the three of us went out together for dinner and caught up with each others’ lives.