Finally, mobility! No longer am I restricted to taxis and bajajis, trying to indicate a place with no address in broken Swahili while a bemused driver with a Man U sticker on his windscreen tries to figure out what I mean. Thick bloody Mancunians eh. My new car is here, well new is a bit of a stretch. It's 19 years old and as loud as a teenager to boot: the exhaust silencer has a hole in it. It's in need of some attention, but I got it cheap and with a bit of money and care I think it could be a pretty good car. It's a Mitsubishi Pajero, a full-sized 4x4 (none of that girly Rav4 nonsense) with space for at least 7, or 12 if I pack 'em in like the local buses. Used cars are pretty expensive here what with a 50+% tax on importing them, and 4 wheel drives are at a premium. One of the other foreigners has a little Toyota Vitz, how I laugh as I glide through the seas of mud which would drown his lesser car. Yep, I've become an asshole with a giant car, but at least I have need for it here; I can only imagine what our street is going to be like in the long rains in April, which are 3 times larger than the end of the year 'short' rains.
There's another good reason to have a giant car with cattle bars on the front: Dar driving. Nothing in the west could possibly prepare you. Someone with ten years experience on the mean streets of London being cut up and undertaken by Nigerian minicab drivers, Estonian haulage executives and Hampstead cycle-fascists (apologies to any London cyclists reading): they haven't even done an apprenticeship for this. Even Bangkok seems calm by comparison, though similarly congested and more motorbikes, however I'm assured that Delhi's just as bad. Between the 3 wheelers weaving on both sides, pushy dala-dala (bus) drivers charging down the wrong side of the road, aggressive humanitarian agency staff in even bigger Land Cruisers designed for war zones, and pedestrians with a powerful faith in the almighty (or a death wish), it's actually a relief that the roads aren't much better or we'd all be in high-speed pileups constantly. A popular bumper sticker reads 'Jesus protects this car!' - so that's why you're driving like you have superpowers? I read about when they upgraded a road through a national park, and a bunch of large animals (including lions, giraffes and elephants) ended up as road kill from impatient locals, a strange reversal of the usual chilled Tanzanian attitude to life. Short experience has taught me that you need to drive with absolute attention at all times to everything on every side, while behaving as if you're ignoring everybody if you want to actually get anywhere. And I thought I was an overly aggressive driver.
The last case I worked on in the head branch was an interesting one - a medical clinic, with a small testing lab and pharmacy. Quite a satisfying one to have approved, even though the £2 consultation fee already puts it out of reach of the poorest, but better health outcomes are positive no matter who the beneficiaries. I'm in another branch for a few days, in a poorer area surrounded by markets on a main arterial route out of the city, no longer the guilded headquarters. The contrast is interesting and perhaps gets closer to the micro roots of the bank's core - the head branch is in an unusually affluent area for microclients, many of whom own vehicles and even property. Yesterday was spent on promotional activities: walking round markets with a loan officer who talks to potential clients, finds out their needs and outlines our services. I find myself constantly greeted and waved to by curious locals in areas with very few foreign visitors, with children practicing a little English to say 'good morning'. More reminders of the friendliness of the Tanzanian people, who vie with the Syrians for frequency of using the word 'welcome' (ah poor Syria, hope Bashar doesn't last too much longer).
So, another week nearly done. If I survive the roads I'll check in next week, when the national day next Friday means a three day weekend and hopefully an out-of-town trip, maybe in my new lion-crusher. Note to parents: don't worry, I'll almost certainly survive!
There's another good reason to have a giant car with cattle bars on the front: Dar driving. Nothing in the west could possibly prepare you. Someone with ten years experience on the mean streets of London being cut up and undertaken by Nigerian minicab drivers, Estonian haulage executives and Hampstead cycle-fascists (apologies to any London cyclists reading): they haven't even done an apprenticeship for this. Even Bangkok seems calm by comparison, though similarly congested and more motorbikes, however I'm assured that Delhi's just as bad. Between the 3 wheelers weaving on both sides, pushy dala-dala (bus) drivers charging down the wrong side of the road, aggressive humanitarian agency staff in even bigger Land Cruisers designed for war zones, and pedestrians with a powerful faith in the almighty (or a death wish), it's actually a relief that the roads aren't much better or we'd all be in high-speed pileups constantly. A popular bumper sticker reads 'Jesus protects this car!' - so that's why you're driving like you have superpowers? I read about when they upgraded a road through a national park, and a bunch of large animals (including lions, giraffes and elephants) ended up as road kill from impatient locals, a strange reversal of the usual chilled Tanzanian attitude to life. Short experience has taught me that you need to drive with absolute attention at all times to everything on every side, while behaving as if you're ignoring everybody if you want to actually get anywhere. And I thought I was an overly aggressive driver.
The last case I worked on in the head branch was an interesting one - a medical clinic, with a small testing lab and pharmacy. Quite a satisfying one to have approved, even though the £2 consultation fee already puts it out of reach of the poorest, but better health outcomes are positive no matter who the beneficiaries. I'm in another branch for a few days, in a poorer area surrounded by markets on a main arterial route out of the city, no longer the guilded headquarters. The contrast is interesting and perhaps gets closer to the micro roots of the bank's core - the head branch is in an unusually affluent area for microclients, many of whom own vehicles and even property. Yesterday was spent on promotional activities: walking round markets with a loan officer who talks to potential clients, finds out their needs and outlines our services. I find myself constantly greeted and waved to by curious locals in areas with very few foreign visitors, with children practicing a little English to say 'good morning'. More reminders of the friendliness of the Tanzanian people, who vie with the Syrians for frequency of using the word 'welcome' (ah poor Syria, hope Bashar doesn't last too much longer).
So, another week nearly done. If I survive the roads I'll check in next week, when the national day next Friday means a three day weekend and hopefully an out-of-town trip, maybe in my new lion-crusher. Note to parents: don't worry, I'll almost certainly survive!
Watch out Jeremy Clarkson, James is out there !
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