Dar es Salaam Diary

So I’m sure it gets old, but so far I’m a big fan of this travelling for work business. Yes, the jet lag is a bitch, but it’s pretty cool to be flown half way around the world and put up in a nice hotel in a cool city. And I’ve been enjoying the work part as well. Over the past four days, I’ve had a chance to network with people doing very interesting work in Pakistan, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Malawi and other places. I have found it really energizing to interact with people who are engaged in the same type of work as me (albeit in very different contexts).

There has been some Power Point overload, which I fear is common at these types of workshops, but also some really interesting presentations. For instance, the organization that is hosting us here convened a group of local journalists to come and talk to us about their craft. The Mexican journalists were all rather glamorous (though perhaps that’s just in comparison to us schlubby NGO types) and a tad arrogant, but it was eye-opening to see things from their perspective and we had a lot of fun with them.

I must now share a bit of workshop humor from their presentation. One of the journalists was trying to explain the difference between being committed and being involved. It’s like ham and eggs, he said. With eggs, a chicken is involved, whereas with ham, the pig is committed. Ha.

I’ve also had a chance to check out some of the nightlife in Mexico City. The other night I went out dancing with my Tanzanian colleague and a workshop participant from Guatemala. Following one of our host’s recommendations, we started our evening at a salsa club called Meneo. The scene there was a bit weird – kind of a Miami-in-the-late-‘70s aesthetic, with smoke machines, and Latin music videos playing on huge screens all around the club. Despite the weirdness, I wouldn’t have minded taking a whirl on the dance floor, but my companions were not into the music, plus it was almost exclusively populated by couples, so we decided to make a move.

Our next stop was La Zona Rosa, a neighborhood we had been cautioned to stay away from by one of the translators (because of the prevalence of gay people) and one of our hosts (because of the prevalence of prostitutes). Of course these warnings just made it sound more interesting, and so we ended up wandering its notorious streets until we found a club that would pass muster with my friends. The Zona Rosa was really not so sketchy after all, though we did get some comments as we walked. At one point a guy yelled, “Africa! Club! Africa!” as we walked by. I was all prepared to get offended on behalf of my Tanzanian colleague, but then we turned the corner and came upon an establishment called, “Club Afrika.” Oops.

We didn’t feel like paying the steep cover to go to “Afrika” and so headed on to a loud, crowded gay club. Our Guatemalen friend was slightly scandalized (Did you see those boys kissing??!), but once she got over her initial shock we had a great time and stayed there til the wee hours, making new friends, and taking in a fabulous drag show.