Our plan was to travel from Rwanda as near as we could get to Mwanza, on the southern shores of Lake Victoria, then to make it all the way there the next day.
We were off to a good start in traveling out of Kigali. We left the house on time (didn't get to say bye to Serena though, she was showering though we patted her puppy and kitty goodbye). My moto driver spoke English and chatted with me the whole time, he was from the Congo and was making his way in Kigali (immigrants are more and more amazing to me the more I see how hard it is to acclimate to another country). Bus from Kigali to the Tanzanian border left right on time. Big comfy bus for the 5 hour journey.
50 Cent. We settled on a shop with some plastic chairs and tables outside to watch the people promonading along the Benako main drag. A young man brought us Pepsi's and sat down with us. He had on a tee shirt and jeans and a sparkly necklace which said "50 Cent". We teased him and nicknamed him 50 Cent. Here I will mention an interesting thing about East Africa (maybe other parts of Africa?) which is the long handshake. It is very typical to shake hands with any stranger you speak to, the taxi driver, the guy on the street trying to sell you newspapers, the kid who brings you the Pepsi, and the handshake lasts throughout the greeting, like, (start shaking) Hello, how are you? I am well, how are you? I am fine, what is your name? (keep shaking, etc).
We asked which 50 Cent song was his favorite. He looked confused. Candy Shop? In Da Club? You know, which song? He continued to look confused and we realized that he did not know 50 Cent. It was a nice necklace though. We then tried football as a topic but he did not like football. We then sat quietly together sipping our Pepsi.
The Bus Ride
This minibus has 17 seats with people smushed together and some space which near the seats for cargo. At one point we had 25 people on the bus. When we hit police check points (in almost every town, I was starting to not like traveling in Tanzania) the police would have 8 people get off and have the driver pay some sort of "fine" for having the extra people on board. We would go through the checkpoint and pick up those 8 people (who by the time we got through had jogged ahead along the road and congregated just out of sight to wait for the minibus), they would pile back on and we would continue on our way.
This lasted a couple of hours. They we arrived at a big town, 4 hours from Mwanza. Everyone got off the minibus except me, Scott, and another white dude. It is never good to be with only whites on the bus. People are yelling Mwanza Mwanza Mwanza and telling us to get off. Scott watched the driver give someone cash and point to us and we discerned that this guy was going to buy us onward tickets on another bus. We follow him through the streets with a throng of 10 guys trying to get us to buy their bus company's tickets to Mwanza. In Tanzania, they call ladies sister - "Sister, my bus is very good. It is very nice. You will buy." I say that we have already paid for tickets and they say "No..." The throng thickens as we get to the bus park where there are 10 big buses parked. Big buses! And many vendors. We follow the dude with the money until he takes us to the bus and we push through to get on. Damn it! Our seats D4 and D5 are taken. We sign and find others.
We arrived at the border and stamped out in Rwanda - Above us, the applicable Rwanda Vision 2020 principles were listed at the border agents window (Vision 2020 is the government's plan to advancing the nation, to move the nation from a $290 per capita gdp in 2o00 to $900 by 2020) which included being a nation in a hurry (be on time!) and customer service.
We crossed a bridge in no-man's land (neither legally in Tanzania nor in Rwanda) to the Tanzania border. The only thing there was a line of trucks bringing stuff into Rwanda (the main port is in Dar we hear, so all the imports come through Tanzania). We got right up to the window and had a friendly discussion with the agent about whether the Visa fee is $50 or $100 for Americans. He was sure it was $100, raised in 2005. We disagreed but could do little about this and dug through our dwindling wallets for $100 US bills (they only take US and cash at borders) and learned that only $100 bills issued since 2000. A bit disgruntled, we exited with stamps, short $200 and realizing that some of our $100s are essentially worthless because they were issued in 1996 (no one in East Africa will take them, apparently, there was a lot of counterfeiting of dollars prior to 2000, so banks are suspicious).
We got to the Tanzania side and found a a row of about 20 shacks on either side of the street selling junk and no other travelers, just the shopkeepers and some kids who set upon us to ask what we wanted. A taxi was relatively expensive, so we eventually hopped on motorcycles. No more Rwanda, my driver did not wear a helmet nor did he offer me one and he only spoke Swahili and was missing a few front teeth, so I was a bit apprehensive on the bike ride. It was 20 kilometers through a lovely rural countryside which I could not enjoy too much because I lost sight of Scott pretty quickly, we were going faster than his bike. We both arrived safe a sound through, in Benko.
How to describe Benako? It was a former refugee camp for Rwandans fleeing the genocide in 1994, we say some old UN tarps on some of the businesses. It became a village and served the trucking community along with some agriculture. Benako has a main dirt trip, lined with shack-shops and very few customers. I immediately wanted to leave, I felt extremely out of place, more out of place than during other parts of the trip and I also felt kind of dirty from travel so far and was pretty sure there would be no running water or indoor plumbing in our Benako-future.
On disembarking from the motos, we were approached by a friendly man who spoke english - the man who sells bus tickets. He had a ticket to Mwanza for the next day, 6am. We considered this idea. We viewed a guesthouse he recommended next door for 6000 tanzanian shillings, about $4. It was a $4 room.
Our fate in staying in Benako was sealed when we saw the mini-bus that might have taken us to the next bigger town (about 4 hours away) driving around the streets listlessly, looking for passengers. It would not leave until it was full and that would doubtlessly get us to the next town after dark, with no map and no way to know where to go to find a room.
It was official, we were going to stay in Benako We took the $4 room. We decided to use our 6 hours of daylight to look around the town. A look around the town garnered a lot of looks in our direction. This strolling-while-being-stared-at was made more bearable for me by imagining that we were two aliens who had been dropped off in the town and certainly wouldn't you stare if there were suddenly two aliens on your street?
We stopped in a place to have a coke - Our young server turned out to be a Rwandan who had been in Benako 3 months learning Swahili, this was handy because we could speak English and French with him. He said that Rwanda is part of the east africa economy and learning Swahili would be important to the country's future. Interesting.
We went back to our room and I finally forced myself to use the latrine. "Not as bad as you thought, huh?" Scott asked. Hmm, I suppose squatting over a pit is not so bad.
The Three People in Benako Who Spoke English
Rwandan guy. Upon crossing the border from Rwanda to Tanzania to this tiny town, we meet.. a Rwandan. He speaks English and is in Benako learning Swahili because, as he said, Rwanda is part of East Africa and Rwandans must be able to communicate with their neighbors. Awesome.
The Three People in Benako Who Spoke English
Rwandan guy. Upon crossing the border from Rwanda to Tanzania to this tiny town, we meet.. a Rwandan. He speaks English and is in Benako learning Swahili because, as he said, Rwanda is part of East Africa and Rwandans must be able to communicate with their neighbors. Awesome.
50 Cent. We settled on a shop with some plastic chairs and tables outside to watch the people promonading along the Benako main drag. A young man brought us Pepsi's and sat down with us. He had on a tee shirt and jeans and a sparkly necklace which said "50 Cent". We teased him and nicknamed him 50 Cent. Here I will mention an interesting thing about East Africa (maybe other parts of Africa?) which is the long handshake. It is very typical to shake hands with any stranger you speak to, the taxi driver, the guy on the street trying to sell you newspapers, the kid who brings you the Pepsi, and the handshake lasts throughout the greeting, like, (start shaking) Hello, how are you? I am well, how are you? I am fine, what is your name? (keep shaking, etc).
We asked which 50 Cent song was his favorite. He looked confused. Candy Shop? In Da Club? You know, which song? He continued to look confused and we realized that he did not know 50 Cent. It was a nice necklace though. We then tried football as a topic but he did not like football. We then sat quietly together sipping our Pepsi.
Bus ticket dude. Bus ticket dude spoke excellent English. We conveyed our desire to go to Mwanza, he wrote out tickets, he explained it is a long trip, that we would have a big bus, with assigned seats (D4 and D5), he wrote these on the ticket, he told us to be out on the street at 6:00am, we looed dubious, thinking that we would be the only ones on the street at that time and the bus would sit for an hour waiting for people. We were wrong. We lay in bed considering getting up at 5:55 when bus ticket guy burst into our guesthouse yelling "Mwanza, Mwansa, Mwanza, Mwanza.." We stuck our heads out and whispered we are coming! Then packed up like crazy and came out of the room into the 6am darkness. There was bus ticket guy, hold and lantern and beckoning us, very, very drunk. We came outside to a minibus; definitely not a "big bus".
The Bus Ride
This minibus has 17 seats with people smushed together and some space which near the seats for cargo. At one point we had 25 people on the bus. When we hit police check points (in almost every town, I was starting to not like traveling in Tanzania) the police would have 8 people get off and have the driver pay some sort of "fine" for having the extra people on board. We would go through the checkpoint and pick up those 8 people (who by the time we got through had jogged ahead along the road and congregated just out of sight to wait for the minibus), they would pile back on and we would continue on our way.
This lasted a couple of hours. They we arrived at a big town, 4 hours from Mwanza. Everyone got off the minibus except me, Scott, and another white dude. It is never good to be with only whites on the bus. People are yelling Mwanza Mwanza Mwanza and telling us to get off. Scott watched the driver give someone cash and point to us and we discerned that this guy was going to buy us onward tickets on another bus. We follow him through the streets with a throng of 10 guys trying to get us to buy their bus company's tickets to Mwanza. In Tanzania, they call ladies sister - "Sister, my bus is very good. It is very nice. You will buy." I say that we have already paid for tickets and they say "No..." The throng thickens as we get to the bus park where there are 10 big buses parked. Big buses! And many vendors. We follow the dude with the money until he takes us to the bus and we push through to get on. Damn it! Our seats D4 and D5 are taken. We sign and find others.
We arrive in Mwanza around 4 pm, well before dark. After the time we have had, we take a taxi to one of the upscale places along Lake Victoria; it is soooo nice, brand new swimming pool, big bed, great bathroom, hot water shower.. Wonderful, we spend two nights there while arranging our Serengeti trip. Hmm, I have learned that long travel days can be gotten through with a little less angst than I had on this trip with the knowledge that we can always just dish out a $100 at the next opportunity for our Western luxury and rest up for the next big travel day!
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