Guest Appearance: Jay Gatsby Comes to Usa River?

June 23, 2013

Last night around 6 PM a tall Dutch man who goes by “Baba Edith” (translates to father and his first born is his daughter Edith) from the Watoto Foundation for Street Children came to pick up Helen, Kosmos, and me to bring us to a fundraising event.  It was a benefit dinner ($30 USD or 50,000 TZ shillings) with the proceeds going to support wildlife conservation.  This was actually a relatively pricey entrance fee, given that you can get an hour of Internet for $1 USD and a daladala ride for $0.25.  And I was surprised that we didn’t even get fed dinner but rather a series of mediocre appetizers (or “bites” as they are called in Tanzania): small blocks of cheese, crusty bread with tomatoes (essentially a low quality bruschetta), pita and hummus, and meatballs (on the dry side, served with sweet chili sauce) to name a few.  The whole event was a strange contradiction that both comforted and disturbed me.  It was held at a private home down the street from my homestay in Usa River, off a nearby dirt road (side note: almost all of the roads in Tanzania are dirt and EXTREMELY bumpy, very few are paved with tarmac, and thus 4WD land cruisers are ideal for getting around.  And even in these unruly beasts, you must have a strong stomach to resist the urge to throw up because everything is so bumpy). 

Initially, we thought the building must be a hotel because the façade was so extravagant.  I felt momentarily transported to the European countryside or to one of Jay Gatsby’s parties on 1920s Long Island, as it resembled a grand estate.  It turns out that the ‘house’ belongs to a British expat who was in absence last night because he was at Wimbledon (casual).  There must have been 40-50 people in attendance, all wazungu (white/foreigners) and expatriates, while Helen and Kosmos were the only Black Africans, except for the few that were staffing the event.  I asked Helen about it and apparently many were Dutch (there are about 250 Dutch families living in and around Arusha).  She suspected that many more were from South Africa or Zimbabwe and noted how they were now in Tanzania because they were forced to leave as the government attempted to restore ownership and power to Black Africans with the goal of ending white oppression.  Helen also said that many people are now starving in Zimbabwe and the like because the wazungu owned massive plantation farms, very high in productivity, and when they were banished, the Black Africans did not have the technology, funds, or means by which to sustain the massive operations, leading to widespread hunger.  Her narrative was both interesting and depressing.

I met a few people at dinner (which was really more like a cocktail party): a Dutch couple who has been running a tourist lodge for six years, and a woman named Valerie from North Carolina who has been living in Arusha for 16 years.  The latter conversation came about in the most amusing of ways, as she came up to me and inquired about how I was “starting a family soon.”  Hmm…not to my knowledge.  Naturally, I replied confused and she said she must have the wrong Asian.  I was the only Asian in the room, who also happened to be with the only Black couple – we must have been a funny sight.  It was overwhelmingly nice to hear the familiar southern drawl and to be comforted by her kind words, though when she discovered I was traveling alone, all she could respond with was “pole, pole” (I’m sorry).  Apparently she cried the first two weeks straight she was in Africa.  Fortunately, I’ve been able to keep it together alright so far, knock on wood.

There was a band playing during most of the night, mostly oldies covers.  They were four older gentlemen (Irish and British, I think) who traveled down from Nairobi for the event.  I recognized many of the songs/artists (e.g. Van Morrison, Bryan Adams, Marc Cohn, Elvis etc.).  I was elated to be able to sing along, that everyone around me spoke English, the water in the toilet and sink were running flawlessly, and that it felt the most like home since I’ve been here.  But while comforted by the familiarity, I was also troubled as the entire event felt very un-Tanzanian.  One of the Dutch expats put it quite well: it is like a society within a society, since the expat community stays very much to themselves and largely refrains from engaging with the local community, outside NGO activity.  It seemed strange, but I suppose understandable that no Black Tanzanians were at the event.  Was it to expensive? (Probably).  Were they not invited or made aware?  (Most likely), yet wildlife conservation affects their land-based livelihoods hugely.  It felt wrong to be in this mansion-like house with people who fly back to Europe 4-5x a year (hello, CO2 emissions) when there are people living in abject poverty less than a half mile away.  The event felt hypocritical and only accentuated the social injustice; yet I couldn’t help but relish the safety and security (although perhaps false) that I felt there.