Well, what a time in Tanzania we have had. We are now in Sumbawanga, near the eastern shore of Lake Tanganyika after leaving Moshi almost two weeks ago. We stayed in Moshi for over five weeks—becoming local-like—and loved it. But our time there had to end.
This post is part one of a three part series on our life in Moshi. This first post covers our life in the town, the hostel, and around. The second covers our time volunteering. While the third covers our four-day wildlife safari to Tarangire, Serengeti, Ngorogoro National Parks.
Exploring the double streets of Moshi
Moshi is a funny little town, full of a mix of locals in need, locals with money, tourists passing through on their way to climb Mt Kilimanjaro or safaris nearby, pesky tourist touts chasing our dollars, and volunteers like us. Few would call the town pretty. But it definitely had its own character with dusty streets and friendly locals calling us mzungu—meaning white person.
It is dominated by two parallel streets—double road and single road—and the towering snow-capped beauty of Mt Kilimanjaro behind. There are pleasant cafes serving local coffee and attempts at Western and Indian foods. Service is often slow and sometimes meals are missed, particularly if Mary—an volunteer at our hostel—was ordering. Pole sana—meaning a sincere ‘very sorry’—Mary.
Dalladallas—local minibuses—ply the streets with activity and noise while traders sell anything from boxer shorts and second-hand shoes to TV antennas and bananas on the footpaths. There are many clothes makers, building suppliers, electronic stores, and phone agents around. And it was difficult to miss the mix of cultures: with Hindu and Sikh temples, Muslim mosques, and Christian churches all vying for followers.
Electricity is sporadic though and security a concern everywhere. Most banks have smiling armed guards. All windows are bared. And even locals avoid walking around at night. And although we had no security breaches ourselves (luckily), one volunteer at our hostel got his wallet stolen while riding a dalladalla and another, her purse on double road. Pole sana again.
So that was our town: the dusty streets of Moshi. And at its centre—at least for us—was Hostel Hoff.
Making friends at Hostel Hoff
Hostel Hoff was a great home—and we made loads of friends.
The hostel is actually a three bedroom house that sits in the northern end of Moshi. There are two canvas tents and a small ablution block (with another two small rooms) in the backyard for more guests and two giant mango trees in the front. Along one side there is a sloping lawn with a volleyball net. Out back are a concreted outdoor dining area and a dart board. People prepared our breakfast and dinner, washed our clothes, cleaned our rooms, and kept us safe at night. Not too shabby really.
Food was solid too. Pancakes, fruit, toast, eggs, and hot drinks for breakfast. Rice, beans, potatoes, pasta, fish pie, more fruit, and meat for dinner. Although some meals were a bit hit and miss, there was always plenty to eat.
Everyone staying at the hostel volunteered. Some teaching and others helping out at orphanages or running courses for local woman. And everyone was foreign. Most from Europe, including from Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Germany, the UK, and Switzerland. There were also a bunch of Canadians, a couple of Americans, one Australian, some Israelis and another Kiwi. If nothing else, we gained a number of couches to sleep on in Europe!
Most of our weekdays were spent volunteering (see our next post) and chilling out. Reading and watching movies was common. But drinking even more so; there were several passable bars in town and always someone keen to share a beer so we visited them regularly. On weekends we went on missions (see below), played sport or drank some more. We even found a place to watch the rugby during the world cup.
It was student flatting life really with the added bonus of being in Africa.
Missions around
Moshi is well located for missions—and we went on several. Some successful. Others not.
On our second day in Moshi we took a dalladalla into the hills below Mt Kilimanjaro to find a waterfall. Feed by snow-melt and over 20 meters high, it offered spectacular views. But for the locals, it offered (equally) spectacular views of barely-clad mzungu ladies bathing (albeit briefly) in its waters. That is the cost of visiting such places, I suppose. We get to walk through villages, take pictures of smiling children, and practice our Swahili. While the locals are entertained, by us.
Another success was our overnight camp at the volcanic Lake Chala—which straddles Tanzania’s northern border with Kenya. Popular with tourists and locals alike, the lake is guarded by a rocky ridgeline covered in light vegetation that is home to various monkeys and other wildlife. At times crocodiles have been seen in the lake. But after assurances that none were now present, we braved the refreshing waters. Elephants do graze on the plains below, however. And offered us great sport as we tracked—at a safe distanced—their progress through the sparse African savannah.
4WDs are great fun, especially when roads are muddy—and this is exactly what we found when looking for coffee plantations on the lower slopes of Mt Kilimanjaro. Many roads in Tanzania are made of dirt. So when it rains a thick layer of muddy goo forms on top. But our driver / guide was undeterred, forcing his Landcruiser from bank to bank as he slide up (and then down) the road. Several times locals were roped in to help move the car out of ditches and car overheated more than once. So, eventually giving up, we glided back to Moshi to drown our sorrows over milkshakes.
Another failure was our trip to the nearby town of Arusha to watch the Rwanda genocide trials. Some courts are notorious for holding sessions that are closed to the public—and it turns out that these trials are no exception. We got to the court early; the court was in a private session. We were told to return later; we did, but the court was in another private session. After lunch, the same deal. There was really nothing we could do. So we returned home to Moshi a little dejected.
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So that is Moshi. Look out for our next posts.
Love to all,
xxx
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