We have finally arrived in Arusha, after another day’s flying, though apart from an early start, daytime flight is so much easier to handle. We’re were up at 0400 and picked up by our driver arranged by our friendly Flightcentre staff. Doha airport is only five minutes from our hotel, so we had time to burn, catch up with emails courtesy of the free airport wifi.
We left Doha with a reasonable appreciation of the city, but heck, what can you really internalise in a couple of days. Clearly everything is geared towards the soccer World Cup in 2022. New construction is everywhere, highways to nowhere, skyscrapers to up there. For a city in the desert, it uses a lot of water – fountains are plentiful, and I guess most of it is converted sea water from the big desal plant powered by cheap gas. The city will be very visitor-friendly, except if you are a pedestrian or have a physical disability. Maybe that is the next stage of regeneration. Footpaths, especially in the older Doha are narrow and broken, taken over by cars, have steep slopes, steps and, in the case of our hotel which has a pedestrian ramp, at the bottom, there is, unbelievably, a foot-high step. We saw this feature in a number of places. I hesitate to generalise, but… there is a love affair with cars, SUVs and very large urban off-roaders as well as luxury cars of all types. Maybe the city planners assume no one walks.
For all that, we did not see a busker or beggar, street art or graffiti anywhere. No doubt such divergence from the norm is not allowed in this carefully regulated city.
We had a lovely afternoon on Friday, visiting the very modern shopping centre in new Doha. It was a reminder of home with the stores and brands exactly as you would find in any Westfield Centre. Being a Friday, it was relatively quiet. We had hoped to visit a local market but could not find it, assuming it did not awaken on a Friday.
From Westfield we took a cab to the Museum of Islamic Art, a truly beautiful representation of the beauty of Islamic culture. Again it was a reminder that so much of Qatar is supported by its foreign workforce. Germans, Romanians, Philippinos, and even people who looked like they might be locals, in conversation, informed us that they were from Comoros, other parts of the Arabian peninsula, North Africa – anywhere but Qatar.
Doha airport is huge, and passengers are transported from the terminal to the aircraft by buses. At one stage I was beginning to think we were driving to Tanzania. Eventually we found a plane that was headed for Kilimanjaro, so we hopped on board.
I seem to be destined forever to have next to or around me, people whose sole purpose is to destroy the enjoyment of my journey. His first crime was to sprawl in such a manner that his feet took over my foot space and his arm jabbed sharply into my ribs. He had no English, so by gesture (polite ones!) I had to inform him that if he wanted to occupy two seats he should have purchased two! If was a battle of wills for the eight-hour journey to Dar es Salaam where his disembarked. He compounded his crime by spluttering into his handkerchief the whole journey, filling the air with his germs. I was a study of composure though possibly my body language may have been raised beyond its normal restrained expression.
From Dar, the trip was much easier, as most of the passengers were disgorged, and we pretty much had the plane to ourselves for the stage to Kilimanjaro. There we caught up with a few of the folk who are all part of the medical health check team. They are a lovely bunch of people, of a wide range of ages and from all parts of the commonwealth.
Kilimanjaro Airport (JRO) is about 40 kms from Arusha, a journey we took in one of the school’s buses. This short journey has a rich diversity of geography and people. Near JRO the countryside seems quite harsh and dry with people scratching out a livelihood shepherding donkeys and goats or growing sparse crops of corn. Nearer to Arusha the agriculture is denser and cropped with vegetables and lots of bananas. We are getting accustomed to the fact that Canberra is a-normal when it comes to driving patterns. It was utter chaos, and I think our driver was under strict instructions not to wipe out the volunteer team. He made a good job, but some of his compatriots seemed to have a reckless disregard for life, limb or vehicle – including their own! Most disturbing was to see a full bus overtake a truck in the face of oncoming traffic over a crest. The confronting traffic just seems to weave its way around disaster, and no one seems to get disturbed or angry. But by luck we survived, as old Banjo Patterson might have written. The school is in a walled compound and were told that Maasai security guards patrol the perimeter. We have had a most enjoyable meal, cooked by one of the staff. Sunday is a quiet day of getting to know the place, meet some locals, and try out some local foods – goat for example. I guess it would be like lamb!
Well, we are quite tired and ready for bed. Jenny has already given in and is snoring quietly as I clack away on this old typewriter. I promise not to have too many long epistles. Thanks for reading and for the odd comments and replies. We love to hear from you.
As I post to the web, all is quiet as everyone had gone to bed, and I am sitting on some steps with the strange but beautiful sounds of the jungle around me. It is very peaceful and we are glad to be here.