It is not rare that I happen upon foreigners in Dar. That
should be a given in a metropolis this size, where there are dozens of foreign
governments as well as private corporations with plenty of interests of their
own to pursue. For the most part, the expats get it: knowing that things might
not work the way you planned them is the first step in making Dar, Timbuktu,
Kathmandu, or wherever you've just pitched your tent your home.
With tourists, it's not as simple. Their two or three week
stay must function exactly the way they planned it…to a t, a comma, and a
period. Four or five star hotels must be accompanied by four or five star
streets, shops, and customer service. There must be five star people catering
to their every need, a five star kid shining shoes at every entrance and a five
star rose growing out of every crack of the sidewalk (correction: there
wouldn't be cracks in their five star sidewalks, so ditch the thought). The
most egregious offense that tourists can commit is assuming that people must
speak English everywhere. Not only is this assumption dead wrong, but it can
also be inherently dangerous, should the tourist insist on this flawed projection.
Europeans, of course, are the most notable complainers. They were blessed with facilities and institutions that are as practical as they are functional and aesthetic. Suddenly, the exotic Kathmandu becomes Kathmanstadt, or Dar Es Sallam become Dartmouth or Derby or Darcelona.
A simple scenario in Europe: John P. Doe (or Miller, Mueller, Garcia…) gets up at six in the morning after his clock, Chinese made electric cube or sphere or square rings him awake. He brushes his teeth, takes a warm five minute shower, makes his coffee, and greets the chirping birds the moment he steps outside an hour later to hail a taxi cab. The streets are a little congested, but he still manages to make it to work by seven thirty. He goes through his work mail, checks his calendar, keeps appointments, etc., etc., etc., rinse and repeat for the next forty years or so.
Straight forward, isn't it?
Now, let's look at John P. Doe in a third world city: first, getting up at six is not necessarily a given, since this would assume you had electricity throughout the night to keep your alarm clock running. If the power failed, it means you are already behind the proverbial eight ball with your schedule for the day. And even if there was power, you might not have water, so say goodbye to your teeth you wanted to brush, let alone the five minute shower and the coffee you need to jolt you awake. Next, you don't know if there is a cab (here in Dar, that also means bajaj's). Overnight, a big tree might have fallen in the middle of the road (has actually happened here—on my road, no less) and blocked any access to your street. No fallen tree, good, but then there's the taxi drivers' union that might be on strike (as happened in Bolivia several times). Or gasoline might not be available at the spur of the moment (both Bolivia and Nepal). If you do happen to get a taxi, there are several barriers to your destination, such as accidents, police stops or flooded streets that will pretty much guarantee that you might just get more work done on your way to the office that you would at the office itself.
See what I mean?
I could go through dozens more stories here dealing with what could happen once John P. is actually at work. He might be assuming that he has e-mail, that people will remember the appointments he made, or that he will actually get to do the same brain numbing routine for forty days, let alone forty years. Assuming is a dangerous thing in most places.
And no, this blog isn't meant to be accusatory or judgmental about certain things. When things work differently in different countries, you shouldn't see it as right or wrong, first and foremost. That person not working on a fixed price is not out there to bankrupt you. The guy who's never heard of pasteurized milk isn't trying to poison your food supply. The busy intersection without a traffic light or stop sign is not designed to open up and swallow you and your children whole. These things just are, have always been, and probably always will be, whether John P. Foreigner is there or not.
Say hello to the art of assuming. And if you intend to have a good time abroad, say goodbye to it just as quickly…preferably the moment you get here. That is the most valuable advice I can give to tourists.
Europeans, of course, are the most notable complainers. They were blessed with facilities and institutions that are as practical as they are functional and aesthetic. Suddenly, the exotic Kathmandu becomes Kathmanstadt, or Dar Es Sallam become Dartmouth or Derby or Darcelona.
A simple scenario in Europe: John P. Doe (or Miller, Mueller, Garcia…) gets up at six in the morning after his clock, Chinese made electric cube or sphere or square rings him awake. He brushes his teeth, takes a warm five minute shower, makes his coffee, and greets the chirping birds the moment he steps outside an hour later to hail a taxi cab. The streets are a little congested, but he still manages to make it to work by seven thirty. He goes through his work mail, checks his calendar, keeps appointments, etc., etc., etc., rinse and repeat for the next forty years or so.
Straight forward, isn't it?
Now, let's look at John P. Doe in a third world city: first, getting up at six is not necessarily a given, since this would assume you had electricity throughout the night to keep your alarm clock running. If the power failed, it means you are already behind the proverbial eight ball with your schedule for the day. And even if there was power, you might not have water, so say goodbye to your teeth you wanted to brush, let alone the five minute shower and the coffee you need to jolt you awake. Next, you don't know if there is a cab (here in Dar, that also means bajaj's). Overnight, a big tree might have fallen in the middle of the road (has actually happened here—on my road, no less) and blocked any access to your street. No fallen tree, good, but then there's the taxi drivers' union that might be on strike (as happened in Bolivia several times). Or gasoline might not be available at the spur of the moment (both Bolivia and Nepal). If you do happen to get a taxi, there are several barriers to your destination, such as accidents, police stops or flooded streets that will pretty much guarantee that you might just get more work done on your way to the office that you would at the office itself.
See what I mean?
I could go through dozens more stories here dealing with what could happen once John P. is actually at work. He might be assuming that he has e-mail, that people will remember the appointments he made, or that he will actually get to do the same brain numbing routine for forty days, let alone forty years. Assuming is a dangerous thing in most places.
And no, this blog isn't meant to be accusatory or judgmental about certain things. When things work differently in different countries, you shouldn't see it as right or wrong, first and foremost. That person not working on a fixed price is not out there to bankrupt you. The guy who's never heard of pasteurized milk isn't trying to poison your food supply. The busy intersection without a traffic light or stop sign is not designed to open up and swallow you and your children whole. These things just are, have always been, and probably always will be, whether John P. Foreigner is there or not.
Say hello to the art of assuming. And if you intend to have a good time abroad, say goodbye to it just as quickly…preferably the moment you get here. That is the most valuable advice I can give to tourists.
