Tourist

A dance group teaches a diverse group of students from a Dar es Salaam school some steps.

A drummer listens to the pitch change as he heats the drumhead to tighten it.

The U.S. Embassy on Friday afternoon warned Americans to avoid areas where people gather because of an anti-U.S. demonstration of several thousand people near Mnazi Moja park in downtown Dar es Salaam. Before I knew about the demonstration or got the warning, I was riding a couple of dala-dalas to the Kajiji cha Makumbusho, or Village Museum, near the Mwenge township. Spread over an open area of at least several acres beside a busy road, the museum has examples from all over Tanzania of different tribes’ dwelling styles and associated household items. It is used to educate Tanzanians about their heritage. The entrance was just a little hard to find, being off a side street, but I entered and paid the foreigner entrance fee of 6,500 shillings (about $3.30), two 14-year-old schoolgirls (who paid 500 shillings each, I think) were also beginning a visit. Dani and Grace spoke a little English, so I asked if they would show me around. It turned out that was unnecessary as all the signs were in both Swahili and English. But it was nice to have some English-speaking company. The houses themselves use similar materials: reed roof and wattle walls usually covered in clay or dung. Most are round. One is rectangular and another has no walls and the reed roof comes all the way to the ground, teepee-like. I’m sure some of the more subtle differences among the styles were lost on me. Some have open interiors and others have as many as four rooms within a 30-foot diameter. But more detail than that was hard for my Western eyes to see. As we meandered from house to house and an iron smelter (the collection reminded me of a similar anthropological/historical architectural museum in Bucharest) we heard the beat of drums calling us to a dance exhibition. Two groups of schoolchildren on field trips (one appeared to be from the Dar es Salaam International Academy not more than half a kilometer from where I am staying) were present and the women of the Nchabwede Dancing Group coaxed the youngsters to try the dance moves while my young companions and I watched, took some photos and ate some ice cream. After two hours it was time for the girls to go, and I wanted to visit the woodcarvers’ market near the Mwenge dala-dala bus terminal. So I dropped some a couple of thousand shillings in a basket for the dancers, as is the custom for photographers here, and headed out to catch a dala-dala to the market.