Contrasts

This part of Tanzania is truly a spectacular place. The pretty terraced hills are covered in tree, the fields that were planted only a few weeks ago are already green with corn and rice, and there are always flowers everywhere. From the red, yellow, and purple bougainvillea (which I suspect are invasive species, but whatever they're pretty) to the orangey-red flowers of the African tulip tree, you can't walk five feet down the paths without seeing another splash of colour. The wild birds are colourful, acrobatic, and noisy (and the omnipresent chickens drown even them out). There are bees buzzing at the bush outside my window from the crack of dawn, and the crickets get going before the sun goes down.

Nature here is bright, loud, and in-your-face in a way that it isn't at home, and not just because I live in the city. Whether it's the river valley, or the mountains, or on the coast, none of the Canadian natural ecosystems and "wildernesses" I've known have had this sense of crazy exuberance. Even when Canadian scenes are majestic an imposing, there's a sense of both dignity and struggle there. I can really sense that the plants and animals evolved through a real struggle with the elements; everything in Canada lives under the shadow of winter. The systems ahve adapted to survive in extremely difficult conditions, and I always feel that when I'm out in nature in Canada. Even in the spring, when everything's bright and fresh and cheerful, it only feels that way because you remember the winter that just passed and will return before too long.

Here, though, there are no such restrictions and it feels like evolution has just gone crazy with the freedom. There's water from underground springs to supplement the (right now, frequent and torrential) rain, constant warmth, and fertile volcanic soil. The results are incredibly beautiful in a way I've never had the chance to enjoy before.

This sensation is lost as soon as you enter the hot, crowded, and stinky streets of Arusha city proper, though. And it would be unfair and dishonest if I only told you about the beauty of this part of Tanzania. There is a lot of ugliness here too, and it's as much a part of my daily experience as the flowers and chameleons.

First of all, it's filthy. Few actually drivable roads plus no government money equals no organized garbage collection, so there's trash everywhere. The main streets in Arusha city are swept by a fleet of (mostly) women with brooms and wheelbarrows, but every other public place is full of garbage. Everyone litters everything. If they had the money, the government could end unemployment overnight, because an army of streetcleaners could work for a decade cleaning up the corn cobs, candy wrappers, empty bottles, and plastic bags out of the ditches and cornfields. And ever since I wrote a story for the Journal about the garbage-to-gas plant being built in edmonton, I see all carbon-based trash as just being just one $12M factory away from "clean-burning" fuel.

Which brings me to the fact that hardly anything here could be described as clean-burning (even putting aside the widespread burning of garbage). Most of the rural homes I've seen cook with coal, as do the mamas who serve up freshly barbecued maize from little grills on roadsides everywhere (I haven't eaten any yet, and am not sure I will). Though it's not like there's much alternative: it's not as if there are gas lines, and I don't know how many people have electricity. We cook on a single burner that's attached to a propane tank. You open the valve and light it with a match.

But the smell of coal smoke is nothing compared to the reek of exhaust. You should see some of the black clouds that trail most of the cars and trucks. Part of the problem is that so many of the vehicles here are really old and poorly maintained, as you'd expect. But Lema told me that it's also because a lot of the gas stations mix their fuels to save money; sometimes people buy the cheap stuff on purpose, and sometimes they have no other choice. There's a reason diesel and gasoline are in different pumps in Canada (and if even I know something's bad for an engine, it must be really terrible).

None of this has been meant as an insult to Tanzania. Both the beauty and the ugliness run to extremes, but 90% of the time the beauty wins. I just want to give an honest, informative picture of the place, that's all. You should all still totally come here.