The top of Mount Meru is cut through the fog as the sun begins to dissipate with his teeth. Middle passage longs for a lavatory. Before us is a military checkpoint, is reduced to three countrymen camouflage tunics around a dying bonfire under a tree. We are entering Namanga, natural border road between Nairobi and Arusha, the Tanzanian capital of safari.
Subject to force the passport. The first commandment of the traveler is not to lose sight of the documentation. In a border, any negligence can be costly. Nothing earth take a stand we are besieged by the troops engaged in street that passes without a neighboring Tanzania Kenya shilling in their pockets. "'Samahani, samahani!!”, shout two women waving their trinkets. Especially stubborn, an old woman sticking to my shadow offering to exchange rings as bracelets Masai.
Tanzania is a country where any management, however small, seems always doomed to failure, but ultimately, and far-fetched as it may seem, everything has a solution
Process exceeded the Kenyan must travel a few meters to the Tanzanian border post, a building on one level of decadent garden. Tanzania is a country, should be made clear from the beginning, where any management, however small, seems always doomed to failure, but ultimately, and far-fetched as it may seem, everything has a solution, often in extremis. An understanding of the Tanzanian idiosyncrasy to avoid unnecessary anxiety and, somehow, we make an act of faith over everything we promise. As I said the plans are turned upside down often but, by different and unexpected ways, are able to take you to where you wanted.
With that philosophy internalized, not even suspect when a woman boarded the bus demanding our passports plump. I, truth, that immigration was an employee that we would expedite the process. We asked 25 per head. No flinch and the U.S. dollar had not given the same amount in euros. I glanced at the office. The grounds were crowded with people waiting for the happy seal. It seemed a good idea for the kind "mzee" take care of everything for having time to prowl around.
I like the people who make tradeoffs between two countries. I think they see life with greater perspective in a world often too dogmatic
I like the people who make tradeoffs between two countries. I think they see life with greater perspective in a world often too dogmatic. They are also breeding grounds for rogue and hustler, soon we were going to check, places but in any case preferable to those where any stranger is a threat.
To while away the time I hit the string with a group of kids, of those who see in every tourist's dream vehicle for a better life. One, carrying a comb tangled in the temple, just open your mouth. "Speak English. It Masai and has not studied ", told me in confidence mate with the cruelty of child's play.
For these little forced to become adults before their time, his dream is to one day make a living guiding tourists in Arusha, driving SUVs or anyone employed in a lodge. Who cares that Tanzania is a country less prosperous than his native Kenya? The expectation is also based on the uncertainty, in the prosperity that is clear in the caravans of tourists who cross the border dollars charged. It is not easy, but do not give. There is always an incentive for not giving: if, any of their siblings had achieved.
A customs officer is handing out loudly documents like ration cards were. I'm looking for a last Hustler careful and candid impulse to absolve
They must return to class. We said goodbye. Before, ask the usual liturgy bolígrados, candies and to the clock. Even photos to a dollar. I do not like paying for the photographs. One of the kids notice it in my face. "You can do it if you want, You don't have to give us anything.". But Bethlehem is ahead and has already held the image of that conversation border.
In this, I forgot that we are without passports. A group of Western swirls around the border post. From the nice lady there is no trace. A customs officer is handing out loudly documents like ration cards were. I am looking for the attentive hustler with an eye, in a final push to absolve candid, but it must be already far away. Certainly has the blind eye of the bus drivers, very African solidarity among those who rise every morning forced to make a living. Back in Arusha, I learn that the visa costs only 20 per person. The remaining five are its fee for delivering passports at the border and leave them to their fate. On second thought, worst would be that had disappeared with the documentation.
Tanzania is shown from the first minute as it is, wildly disorganized
The office is a mess and tourists anxious passport. I hear screaming my name or something that seems quite. So, no surname or anything. I pushed my way responsible and gives it to me without further checks. The Bethlehem is on the table, along with many others that have not yet regained their owners. Hands me another three passports for me to take them and lighten their work, but I refuse point blank to pay more. Tanzania is shown from the first minute as it is: wildly disorganized and careless as he has not even had time to mess around in great wars despite more than a hundred ethnic groups treasures.
Finally crossed the fence at one o'clock. The vehicle slides downhill between streams euforbias, Unfortunately villages and idle soldiers. Intense heat permeates the bus. I guess the plump and mischievous at the border will be collecting dollars and other unsuspecting tourists' passports.
