Tazara Railway, train travel adventure

Making a quick dash first thing in the morning to get our tickets, Danny came back with 4 tickets and a puzzled look on his face. Why 4 tickets? Well, turns out we actually bought 4 seats when we bought the compartment, so 4 tickets.

The railroad was built in the late 1960’s by the Chinese government. The president at the time told the international community, as they were condemning him for allowing the Chinese to build the train, that he would take it from whoever was willing to give it. No one else other than the Chinese came forward. Of course, as always, all supplies and workers were brought in from China, with very little of the Tshillings going to the local people. The station, Tazara Dar es Salam 

is very utilitarian and stark with little ornamentation that so often accompanies a main railroad station. The pictures seen up the "grand" staircase are ones that project the greatness of Chinese assistance to Zambia specifically and Zambia in general.

Finished in 1970, it now looks far older and like it could disintegrate within a matter or years. A little elbow grease and soap and water would spice things up considerably as the furnishings, etc remian intact.

Friends, Peggy & Gary arriving to sign the manifest before getting on the train

 

 

 

As we waited in the first class waiting room, we could hear classical music being piped in to the waiting area of the masses. Reminiscent of a bygone era, I felt like we were waiting for the Titanic or something, rather than a train in the middle of Africa. I could visualize all the patrons in their morning coats, top hats and embellished dresses and ornate head dressings, milling around waiting for the embarkation in colonial times. Alas, what really was, was a little different.

“All aboard” I thought I heard but in reality, it was an unintelligible announcement for boarding, followed by a flood of people shoving and pushing to get to the quay and cars. A cacophony of colour, smells and voices followed us as we, along with the rest of the wave of humanity, headed out to our train car, C2, dragging our one case each.

 Wow, we are the third to last car on the train that has at least 15 passenger cars plus a dining car and a lounge, and every car is full. That is a lot of people. Boarding was a matter of shoving your case up into the car, and then dragging it down a narrow corridor to our compartment, no porter other than an attendant outside on the quay verifying the correct car, waiting to direct us to our compartment as would be found on Amtrak. People milling in the corridor, parting as we needed to pass, we found the compartment, numbered in roman numerals, C-IV.

 Could the paint job have given us an indication as to the train ride to come?

The embarking seemed to take forever with people waiting in the corridors, in their compartments, and on the quay

as last minute people kept coming.

 Finally a car drove up with 4 armed guards and a person – ah hah, our reason for delay.

 He and his escorts/guards and guns boarded the train and within a short time (maybe 15 minutes) we slowly crept out of the station. We were on our way! The excitement in the compartment was everywhere with all four of us expressing our opinions, hopes and expectations. 

 

The compartment itself was a two-tiered bed on either side, with the bottom bed the seat. The upper tier was not put up during the day and our bedding laid out on the beds.

The little table, under an open window, was covered in dust, which I wiped down with a Wet-One. The operative word here was “open window” as we soon found out. The window across the corridor from the compartment was also open allowing for a wonderful cross breeze. By leaving the door open, there was a constant breeze as well as a parade of passengers going by, affording a great opportunity for people watching. A young girl actually said hi as she passed, otherwise people looked in but said nothing in the way of greeting – but why should they, we did the same as we walked by other compartments later on.

Glued to the open window, watching the passing scenery, soon my hair was plastered down to my head with dust! Yup, the open window not only allowed for a wonderful cross-breeze, it also carried all the dust to be found on the outside. Oddly enough, however, it didn’t carry a lot of bugs. As the sun beat in the window, the breeze cooled allowing for a great experience seeing the countryside for the first time.

Our route started to climb immediately after leaving Dar es Salam. According to the map/sign in the station [photo] we would climb rather sedately up to 300m from the 34 m of Dar es Salam, then quite quickly to 1700m. As we climbed it seemed like we would slow down to nearly stopping and then go again. This continued for some time. Then we stopped. We waited and waited and waited some more when a man next door said that they had engine problems and we were waiting a new engine that was coming from Dar es Salam. The first breakdown has occurred and we have only been traveling for 1 1/2hrs. Maybe if we get it out of the way now, we won’t have any more.

On the move again, with a new engine, we settled into the evening. Dinner was the first thing on the list. The attendant came around trying to lock the doors for us to be able to go to the dining room but they wouldn’t lock – none of them. So Peg & I went to the dining room first while Danny & Gary stayed in the rooms. Walking from car to car, swaying back and forth, bouncing with the cars, we were amazed at the lack of safety features in the car joining/linkage area. One could easily loose a foot here. Still, we had fun as we moved from car to car, trying not to fall into someone’s lap in the lounge car and going from side to side in the compartment cars. The dining room with all the inherent smells of bodies and fried foods met us before we even got to the door. All tables were full so we had to wait. Wait but only for a few minutes before 2 burly men got up and moved to single chairs so that we could sit down. The third of the burly men continued to eat at the table. Striking up a conversation we found that he had traveled this same route for over 20 years and that the train had actually been shut down for a while, having started up again only a week or so before our travels. How fortunate for us as we had no idea that it had been closed down. They have a unique way of serving food: Only a soup spoon with which to eat the meal of which the protein portion is fried fish or chicken, eaten with your fingers; no serviettes to be found; and no drinks offered. At the end of the meal we noticed that one of the girls came around with a basin, a pitcher of water and a liquid soap container. They squirted the soap on the diners hands and poured water over them. Ha, no need for serviettes here. We requested to wash before we ate and then weren’t offered the same service once we had finished eating. Guess they only allow for one washing per diner per meal. After all of this, we returned to the car to discover that Gary and Danny had room service. Ha, no dining room experience for them.

Darkness overcame us very quickly. As the sun was setting I grabbed my camera to try for a photo.

Within 30 seconds the sun was gone. I barely had time to catch the sunset before it was gone. And the black of night came just as quickly. The stars were as bright as I had ever seen them. I laid on my bunk, looking out the window, without glasses, and saw the stars. They were beautiful. And oddly enough, being south of the equator, we could still see the Big Dipper just over the horizon. Would I have been able to hear the crickets in the moonlight if the sounds of the train hadn’t overshadowed the night? What an awesome feeling to go to sleep by.

Dar es Salam

Dar es Salam,

Arriving around 10pm local time, dog-tired after having flown with waiting times of approx 24hrs, it was hard to see anything of the area in the dark as we drove towards the hotel. Even with the lights and the resultant light pollution it was a black black night, making site seeing next to impossible. The smells however were very present - they were not anything like those you embrace in Latin America. These are very reminiscent of those we encountered in the drive in Doha. The lights cast an eerie shadow of yellow on the immediate landscape which is readily reflected by the yellowish landscape, giving a feel of not quite reality. Could all of this flashback to Doha have anything to do with our driver Rammah and his richly embroidered head cap? The traffic was sparse and the driving - yikes, on the other side of the road. We passed a couple of local Coaster-type buses and oddly enough, they were filled with not even standing room left.

Driving up to the hotel gave a somewhat uncomfortable feel as we drove through what appeared to be a not so good neighborhood. OMG did I get us a hotel in a bad section of town? An armed guard at the front door; a guard on the inside waiting to put you on the elevator to where you need to go; the reception on the second floor, away from the access: Yes, I couldn’t help but wonder, what had I gotten us into? The write-up and the cost puts us in a decent hotel but … The room was great, the bed very comfortable and the reception sleepy but helpful: Tiffany Diamond Hotel and Spa in Dar es Salam.

The next morning we rose to our first sight of the city in daylight. We had already been wakened by the Call to Prayer at sunrise.

 Was it anything like we imagined? How can one tell when one is 5 stories up from the ground? Once out onto the street, we were immediately immersed in the smells and sounds of a busy week-day.

People scurrying past in a hurry, without making eye contact; traffic congested with horns blowing in frustration; the fumes of cheap fuel which reminding me so much of my first encounters in Germany many, many years ago; no one overtly begging but they are there – the lame, the infirm, and the down and outers; no dogs and no dog poo to be seen or even worse, walked in; feeling the very awe of being in a new culture, and a multicultural one at that. It was wondrous to see the many different cultures all in one place. You pass the women in complete Islamic garb, the multicoloured hues and patterns of the African clothing, (one woman had a sarong skirt made of fabric with Barack Obama’s photo on it), the men and women in western clothes, and always the head cap, the head cap which so differentiates the African male from other cultures.

Our first real adventure was one that resulted from Danny’s desire to see the train station. Asking directions of a business dressed man on the street, we not only get the directions but were also asked where we wanted to go. He subsequently informed us that the station we wanted was not here in town but a ways from town and we needed to go to a taxi stand and get a taxi. We easily found the in-town station a few short blocks from the hotel, however. It was a simple block building, not that old in actual numbers but yet ancient looking. Wandering through we stopped to look at a map of the lines (currently running?),

saw lines of people and people sitting and waiting, old railroad cars behind the fence with armed guards leisurely sitting behind the gate. Danny boldly walked in and asked if he could take photos. Very politely the answer came back that permission was needed and we were referred to the stationmaster. So we sought out the stationmaster’s office, which, surprisingly, was crammed with people sitting on chairs. Waiting for what, we had no idea but we were immediately asked how could they help us. People here are so very polite and fall over backwards to help you. When we responded with our request, that we wanted permission to take photos of the trains, we were escorted into the bowels of the working man’s offices, far from the hustle and bustle of the street where the atmosphere was relaxed and unassuming. We were introduced to Midladjy Maez, the Public Relations Manager who then asked his assistant to escort us around the train yards and giving us permission to take whatever photos we want. Are we unusual in that we asked or is this the usual manner that visitors are welcomed? No matter, we get the tour of a lifetime, back into the very bowels of the working areas, where the obsolete and broken down are stored, repaired and otherwise forgotten. Our escort, Moshi Buttu turns out to be the official photographer for Tanzania Railways Limited who ends the tour with an offer of assistance should we need it anytime while we are in country, giving us his personal cell number. The tour ended with us thanking Moshi’s boss, and then his boss’s boss and finally his boss’s, boss’s boss. The whole event was treated as a special event and we were made to feel so welcomed and special by everyone we met.

Later in the afternoon, after a trip to the Tazara train station, walking around in the area near the hotel, we stumbled upon what looks like the same kind of central transportation system that we had in Colombia. We found the loading/unloading area but no buses.

 Now the area was run down and not used other than for loitering, waiting, or what have you. Surprisingly it had not been taken over by vendors as would have been in Central America.

Street food was also not readily available. Is this because it is not the norm, or were we simply too early for them to be set up and selling? We did stop at one vendor who was charcoal grilling and selling corn-on-the-cob on a corner. Another buyer stopped and asked us where we were from and how long had we been here. Informing him that we had just arrived, he replied that we were getting our first real African food, natural as it had been on the farm, in the ground the night before.

 Serviette? No just the corn husks acting as a serviette. 

Tomorrow we depart on another train adventure - this time from Dar es Salam, Tanzania to Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia... follow us then.

Amsterdam Internat'l Airport, Shiphol

Enroute to our destination of Africa, we had a short layover in Amsterdam International Airport, Shiphol. We weren't sure if we had to redo customs/immigration so we hurried along, not stopping to see all the wonderful things along Holland Boulevard, found in the transit area of the airport.

  I really like the Dutch delft and wish I could have found some things to take back. Maybe on our return.

Coffee anyone?

Once at the departure gate we had a couple of hours so Danny took his nap. [photo] Our plane arrived and did a very fast turnaround. 

 And soon we were back in the air. Instead of the water, water everywhere as we flew the first leg, we crossed over land masses, one of which was the Swiss Alps.

A quick stop off to discharge passengers in Kilimanjaro, and we were off on the final 45min leg to Dar es Salam.

Graduation 2014

On Friday night we, as a family, celebrated Brooke's high school graduation. What an achievement! A beautiful, upbeat commencement celebration with a beautiful graduate.  Graduation from high school culminates thirteen years of formalized school and the growth from a child to an adult. And what a ride it has been. We witnessed the end of an era and the beginning of a new one - upcoming university and further becoming a self-reliant, independent person.

 even with heels I am still the shortest 

3 generations

 Family

You can see how short Brooke is to the rest, so you can imagine how short I am when all together.

And now on to Africa ....