Mornings at the markets

I wasn't sure if Peter would want to spend time in Dar on a trip visiting markets, but Kizito tours offered a morning at the fish market and a morning at the huge Kariakoo general market. The tours got good reviews on the web, and to me it sounded quirky and not just another tour driving around a big city looking at landmarks. Peter agreed -even though he spent thirty years or so of his professional life walking round markets observing them carefully..

The Fish Market

So we made the half hour walk down to the fish market entrance, pushing through the crowds streaming off the morning ferry to meet the guide at 9.00. It was easy to recognise each other. There weren't too many elderly white couples standing around at the market - and Meck, the guide, didn't look like a market trader.

It was an excellent morning. We were so pleased we had decided to do it. We had a wonderful time and came home smiling. Luckily Meck was able to cope with Peter's knowledge of markets and his knowledge of the history (etc) of Tanzania. And his tendency to quote examples from countries all over the world. Here they are, arguing about kind of oil what is being sold in the recycled bottles (i.e. there was no clue on the bottle) which the seller said, simply, was 'vegetable oil'.

Meck was very knowledgeable, himself, and good at pointing out and explaining what was going on. And as important he was good at asking people what they were doing when he didn't know. i.e. he asked them in such a way that they were happy to explain. This was important because everyone was very busy. For this reason, we think, it is not allowed to take pictures (unless you want to pay $50) in the part of the market where the fish were landed, gutted, cleaned, auctioned, etc. Quite right too, Tourists taking pictures could so easily l get in the way of what was a slick operation involving people moving fast with heavy slippery containers, while others used sharp knives very expertly, gutting and skinning. And anyway the people there naturally do not want to be seen as sort of exhibits for tourists.

We were admiring the speed and dexterity of a man who was using a very big knife to skin and gut a large fish. He scowled when he saw us looking, until Peter gestured his admiration, at which scowls turned to laughter and then a quite a few giggles from his colleagues.

As I said, Meck was good at chatting up people. And anyway he was doing that East/Southern Africa thing we've mentioned before of acknowledging and greeting people. We very much like that part of the culture. As a result we did take one picture. It was all right, just, apparently, if one of us was in the picture.

One part of the market is set aside for people cooking. It's a good place, Meck said, to get an African breakfast of chapattis and fish. And I imagine there is a roaring trade since the market is close by the ferry terminal and the bus terminal. This picture of a woman making chapattis was taken because we had tried making chapattis in our Swahili class - and we had not found it so easy as this woman was making it look. I explained and she was hugely amused, and, happily, pleased with the picture which we'll try and send her.

In the other part of the market it was ok to take pictures. Here are a couple:

This man is winding the long thin tails of large rays (which we had seen freshly landed, earlier) into plaited circles. The woman is cutting and smoking octopus tentacles.

When we had had enough we strolled home talking of the architecture of the old buildings along the sea front. Most of them are government buildings so you are not allowed to take pictures of them. (Though we had, on an earlier occasion, on our evening walk by the sea.) As we walked we came across a Masai man selling herbal remedies. Meck explained that Masai people, like everyone else in the country, are attracted to the capital city to try their luck. However, of course there is no call for their traditional skills of cattle herding and lion hunting. Some have ended up posing in full traditional dress for tourists. We'd seen a couple doing just that when we were being driven along by the beach hotels along the coast. But others, like this amiable man set up as traditional healers. Luckily he was quite happy to have his picture taken (and yes, we took the address to send a copy). While we were there, as you can see, he was selling to a man just about to drive away in his car.

There was one remedy I found particularly interesting. It's number 18 on the list 'Dawa ya gaut'. The interest is linguistic. 'Goti' is Swahili for 'knee'. The cure, he told us, involved using parts of a goat. Now, the Masai's mother tongue is neither Swahili nor English. Yet this sounds like a complicated sort of sympathetic medicine based on a bilingual pun. Hmm.

 It was time to go back to the hotel - well, round the corner from it, to a little bar and drink beer. We put the beer bottles on the ground rather than openly on the table, because a recent edict forbids drinking beer before 4.00 p.m. when people have finished work. However the beer glasses were left openly enough on the table.

Kariakoo Market

Two days later we visited Kariakoo. (So named because it was in the area of the city where the African Carrier Corps were based in British colonial times.) Again, we had a great time: it was hugely interesting and a lot of fun. People are remarkable friendly if we show we are. The guide this time was Kizito, the man who started and runs Kizito tours. Like Meck he was very knowledgeable and personable, cheerful, and with a great sense of humour. And again, like Meck, he could cope with Peter's specialised knowledge.

 I imagine that Peter was fairly unusual as visitors go, because of his serious interest in agricultural equipment and in the qualities and varieties of rice. As you might expect from an agricultural economist. As you can see he was indeed seriously interested!

Peter was scathing about the architecture, remarking several times that the architect should have been shot for designing a building so unfit for purpose as a wholesale market. There are steps everywhere. Deliveries go underground, and there are no lifts. This is going to make it very difficult for people bringing heavy loads of fish, fruit or veg on wheeled vehicles in from the countryside

However the Tanzanians have made it all work. Indeed very well. The market is huge,  and a centre for goods for several nearby countries as well as nationally.

We were interested by the range of goods. Some of which we didn't recognise. The little pellets of that are the colour of earth are exactly that - sold to pregnant women because of their mineral content. 

The loads of tiny fish, on the other hand, I remember from childhood, though then I didn't know they came in different qualities. I was oddly pleased to see fish from Bukoba on Lake Victoria where I was born (though I don't remember it all, of course. I think we left when I was two or less.) The big dried fish came from Bukoba too. I explained to the serious looking man selling it that I was taking a photo because I was born in Bukoba. Suddenly he was all pleased, surprised and offering high fives. Lovely.

The market was not all produce. It continued for several blocks with just about everything you could sell on sale. A cheerful, colourful bustle. And we were impressed just how clean everything was. In both markets we had come prepared for flies and biting insects. Wrong. We  began counting flies. One in the fish market and two in Kariakoo. How do they manage it? And the smell was good too. The fish market smelled less strongly than some UK fish shops. Kariakoo smelt sweetly of spice or fruit or wood, as the case may be.