Oldonyo
L’Engai is an active volcano adjacent to Ngorogoro crater. In Masai the name
means “Mountain of God” and it lives up to its name by erupting every 30 years,
with the last eruption 3 years ago. Climbing it is a physical challenge
(perhaps slightly more so that I first imagined) but the appeal is that on a
good day you can see the sunrise over the Ngorogoro highlands, the rift valley
and the flamingo encrusted Lake Natron. It’s also something slightly different
to do, not one of the usual mountains and also something that can be done on a
budget (unlike $600 dollars for Mt Meru or $1000 for Kili). With these
attributes in mind a group of 8 of us made our past Arusha, on the road
to Ngorogoro and Lake Manyara. At Lake Manyara we turned off for another three
hours to the base of the Mountain. It was on this road that our first incident
happened.
The first
roadblock (literally a metal bar across road) was a pleasant old man by the
side of the road who wanted a bottle of water. Our teams’ preparedness meant we
had plenty of water for us and a small army, so it was a pleasure to share. We
carried on, satifisied with our Samaritanism. An hour later we came across
another checkpoint, the L’Engai District entrance. A sign explained that visitors
were expected to pay $10 per person, not per vehicle. We stoppend and bartered
the price to nearer $60. We got our receipt and slowly negotiated the dirt
track ahead, still in good spirits although with a slightly sour aftertaste.
Still, I reasoned to myself, “In the grand scheme of things £6 each isn’t a
huge amount of money and, hopefully, the money can get somewhere in the
community and can be put to use”.
Forty-five
minutes down the track we came around a sharp corner and found another
roadblock. This time a large sign: “Welcome to Loliondo”. Two lads stopped us and informed us
“Ten Dollars”,
again per person. I started to get a little irate and spent twenty minutes in
the barter. These guys seemed a slightly less professional outfit, and although
we still got our “Official” District receipt. They let us off with $40 in
total, a cigarette and another bottle of water. We left the “checkpoint” in
more subdued spirits. When you enter a game park you pay the expected fee at
the gate and enjoy the fantastic animals and plants that Tanzania ispreserving. In this case I was left unsure what I was paying for, one thing it
certainly wasn’t was the upkeep of the road. We trundled slowly on.
Evening
approached as we passed the mountain silhouetted by the wide African sunset. A
few scattered zebra, wilderbeast and ostrich lined the road and spirits again
lifted with the views and the thought of a few hours sleep and food before we
started our climb at midnight. We were within 20 minutes of the campsite when
an iron post loomed in the distance: Another roadblock. This time an old-timer
in a vomitous striped shirt appeared and kindly notified us, by pointing an A4
printout stuck to the wall, $15 dollars to enter the Lake Natron District. This
was getting silly. It was late and we were within spitting distance of our
destination. There was no way we would turn back and he knew it. But was it
“him” who knew it? Another 20 minutes of protestations fell on deaf ears – “don’t
blame me – I just work here”. He didn’t even seem to want to barter but then again his hand was
the strong as there was no way we would turn back now. Luckily for us his
math(s) turned out to be less than exceptional, as he let us through paying
about $65 in total. Despite this inadvertent victory we arrived at our campsite
later and poorer than we expected.
The mountain
turned out to be a real challenge. Starting at midnight and we eventually
summited at 8 am and were back down before midday. The views were incredible as
the sun rose and, especially the further you get from doing it, I am happy to
reflect on a good climbing experience. However, at the time of arrival I was
hungry, travel weary and the whole roadblock thing had fucked me right off. But
having spent a few days recuperating perhaps there is a little more to it?
The three hour
journey on a poorly maintained road for 9 people (including driver) it cost the
group $165. As it happens we continued to pay for the trip. The volcano is
impossible to climb without some guidance, not because of technical difficult
but the lack of paths – you literally don’t know where to start. After an hour
of bartering that night with the “Official” guidesman of the local town we
struck a deal at two “official” guides for $250, these “official” guides being
school children on holiday.
However, to
focus on the roadblocks, the most striking aspect for me was that these were
not prices to be paid across the board, on the contrary it was purely about
being foreign. For the driver, myself (speaking some basic bartering Swahili)
and my Kenyan friend there was minimal resistance to dropping to a free “local”
pass. Secondly, as is often the case with bribery it was all veiled behind a
degree of organization and beaurocracy. Each site had it’s own “Official”
receipt.
You walk
around Moshi town and you see plenty of “Wazungu” (colloquial for white
tourists, interestingly derived from Swahili “kuzunguka” – to travel around without a clear
purpose). They are driving 4x4’s to and from Safari, eating and drinking in
expensive coffee shops and buying souvenirs. Those that do live here generally
live comfortably on a western salary with big cars, nice houses and employ
people around the house (this actually describes my home set up perfectly).
This contrasts violently with the average Tanzanian persons life. It’s visible
in the street and in the villages with kids who can’t afford to go to school or
people who don’t have home to live it. And it’s represented statistically by
the 88.5% who live on less than $1.25 per day (2009).
But does this
huge socioeconomic difference mean that foreign visitors should expect to pay
more for the same thing that the average Tanzanian should? Is this difference
compounded by rich foreigners who flaunt their money on the things that they
want and then are shocked when they are asked to pay more for everything else?
Ironically, if
we follow free market rules then the answer is that we should pay more. In the
situations that people are able and willing to pay the price then the price
stays. However if that is the case then this is universal and everyone pays.
This is sadly what happens to housing in post disaster/conflict areas. Having
spoken to people who live in Juba, and having visited Sierra Leone, local
poorer and middle class people are priced out of higher quality housing as NGO
and aid workers (with their western salaries) flock in to do their good works.
If our goal is
ultimate utility and the redistribution of wealth to those who need it, then
again it’s a yes. Being able to afford an airfare to Tanzania is quite a good
proxy for being from a significantly higher socio-economic group than the
average Tanzanian. So, if we are looking to re-distribute that wealth evenly
then its only fair that those who can pay more subsidise services for others.
But why then
does this whole roadblock grate so much? I know if I was in the same position
again tomorrow I would still barter those guys to the ground, and I would still
end up irate about the whole thing. I think it’s for three important reasons.
Firstly, I’m not quite sure why I should pay as I’m not visiting a country,
entering a specially maintained area (e.g. national park), or paying for the
road to be maintained (e.g. French paege). Secondly, the whole thing smacks of
poor governance; I have no idea where the money is going and the likelihood of
it making it to the community is anyone’s guess. And thirdly because its applied liberally to all those that
look and act foreign which, although it probably does capture a large
proportion of those who are able to pay it, is an unjust method of applying it.
In a totally
unrelated turn of events, a working visa for Tanzania now costs $500 for 6
months (from $130 per year) and a volunteer visa is similarly pricy. Perhaps
its worth asking a few questions: Should we as foreigners pay for the privilege
of working in such a beautiful country as Tanzania, much as the Tanzanian does
in the UK or US? Should we redistribute our wealth by supporting the government
on the assumption that it makes a difference? Or is it an unjust blanket levy
imposed on all foreigners in the assumption they are wealthy enough and willing
enough to pay? Will people experiences prompt them to tell others and will this
deter those people from coming…?
I can’t
provide any answers to these difficult questions and maybe only time will tell.
But I do know that incidences like the roadblocks will inevitable still piss me
off. It’s also worth appreciating that huge inequity inevitably causes
disharmony and there will be vents for these.
I did promise
this blog wouldn’t be medical, which it isn’t, but I understand its still heavy
going… I apologise. I can promise though that the next installment, bar any
major mishaps, will be as I’m off cycling around Kilimanjaro and then on to
Nairobi. Expect stories of hair-raising and intrepid adventure…
On bartering – a reply
ReplyDeleteGreat blog Paddy. A few words if I may on bartering in Africa. I may have been called ruthless and reckless in my efforts to get a ‘good price’ in the marketplace when as a rich ‘Westerner’ I can clearly afford that extra 50p. But here are my thoughts on why it might sometimes be good to barter:
Firstly I think there is a problem when an economy becomes warped by a massive influx of people able and willing to pay more for local goods and services. I agree that tourists paying more for tourism – hotels, safaris, national parks, private drivers etc…, works as a form of wealth distribution and ultimately should benefit a country in terms of economic development. But the problem arises when there is no ‘local price’, and when products and services go preferentially to those who can pay more. Housing in Juba is one example, but what about buying a bottle of water or some groceries in the centre of Moshi. Prices are sometimes double here where tourists shop – does this force locals to travel out of town to get their basics? And what about the price of a taxi to the hospital? If 30 Western doctors are willing to pay more than a local Tanzanian, will drivers rather wait for their custom than take someone who needs treatment but can’t afford the extra cost? Just a thought..
But really, among thousands of tourists paying more will my stubbornness make a difference? Probably not. So my other point is something to do with cultural sensitivity. A cliché I know. But think about it for a minute. Our culture in the UK is to stick a label on a good and a rate meter in our taxi, and that is the price. No questions. How would it feel, if a foreign tourist came into our shops and looked down their noses at our price tag and insisted on paying double. Strange? Patronising? Offensive? I know that as a ‘Mzungo’ here in Africa I can’t expect to be treated as an equal and to relate to local people in the same way as if I was local, but I think there is something to be said for engaging in an ancient cultural practice as can be said for making the effort to speak some local language. There is something cool about the process of bartering with a seller, with looking them in the eye and arguing before shaking hands on a price. For connecting with people it certainly beats going into a supermarket and scanning what you want before paying a machine without even saying hello to anyone.
So, perhaps it is a balance. I have certainly made mistakes and admit that my motivation for getting a bargain often comes first over stabilizing an economy(!) or cultural engagement(!). A lot of the time I need a Paddy in my ear to say relax, pay more, it’s no big deal. But I think it is important to think about the wider implications of the way we use money. In any case, I will continue to barter.. but I will try to barter more generously.
Enjoy the cycle - look forward to your next blog.