Tanzania Day 4, Part 1: Nyumba ya Mungu Fishermen

 We had a two-part day on Friday, spanning another mode of transportation: paddle - as well as pedal - power.

Our encampment is on the shores of the  Nyumba ya Mungu reservoir, which is created by a dam downstream. At the height of rainy season (March-May), this ground is covered by water (albeit very shallowly) though it has receded as the dry season wears on, allowing grass to grow and providing rich pasture for cows. It also leaves some trash (e.g. Plastic bottles or shoes) scattered in places where it had floated, which was noticable primarily because it's been so rare! On the whole, we've encountered very little litter around Tanzania, which was surprising given how much we have at home, and how much we encountered in Guatemala where trash collection was largely non-existent, especially in rural areas. Of course, plastic packaging is a major culprit, and we noticed later in the day that most bottled drinks here still come in glass, which is collected and reused. Reduce and reuse makes a big difference, as well as traditional ways of life that generate less waste to begin with. 

Four local fishermen took us out on a tour of the lake in the boats they use to catch tilapia and catfish. They are simple craft made of two long boards bent and nailed around a floor board, with seams sealed, in a canoe shape. Given the shallow water, most are propelled by long sticks pushing against the ground, though the one who took me and Cherry had a small wooden paddle. He was an older man who to our surpise had emigrated when he was younger from Mozambique and ended up here as a fisherman. Most people, we've been told, belong to one of the 127 tribes in Tanzania, who are each often clustered together and follow various local traditions. But he has clearly melded into the local community, having learned Swahili and a little English in addition to his native Portuguese, and calling out chatting with the other fisherman as we passed. 

Our delightful guide, whose name I sadly didn't write down. 

Setting out from shore. 

The lake is also home to numerous birds who nested among it's grasses and lily pads, including plovers, cormorants, African fish eagle - and my favorite - the African jacana. The latter is has a reddish-brown body, yellow breast and white head, but is most striking when in flight with its dark wingtips. I wish I had a decent photo, but honestly, you'll get a better view with Google. 

After touring the lake (at times through thick aquatic grasses), we visited the landing where fishermen brought in and sold their catch. 

Yes, this is several feet deep water. 

Sorting bigger and smaller fish in the boat. A lot of them were tiny, and apparently the government has started closing the lake for three months a year to allow stocks to recover a bit and grow bigger. 

Processing the bigger fish in boat. On shore, women cleaned and fileted piles of fish with a speed and deftness that was impressive. Each fish was scraped and cut in a couple seconds, with barely a glance down at the quick knife movements they had mastered from repetition. They didn't want to be pictured, which was important to respect. 

The temporary shelters around which fishermen gathered to rent boats, then bring in and sell their catch. These can move along with the lake's water level. 

A woman frying up fish to sell back to the fishermen for lunch. Served with ugali - a corn meal paste - and eaten by hand. Similar to fufu in West Africa (made with cassava), you take some ugali and form it into a ball with your fingers, then press your thumb into it to make a small bowl shape you can use to pick up a piece of whatever you're eating - fish in this case. 

What struck me most was just observing the economic and social structures. The boats are all owned by two local businessmen, and labeled with their name (Kalonga or Temba) and a number. Our outing was facilitated by one of them - Vincent Kalonga - who is a prominent local figure and has been a supporter/facilitator for Globalbike's partnerships with the community. When fisherman arrive in the morning, they will pay the boat rental fee to his agent, and Vincent drops by every evening to collect the funds. As needed, boats have to be repaired.

While the fishermen work individually or in pairs, they obviously get to know the others they see each day as they go about their work. Every community the world over has its own rythyms and relationships that form from the same people doing similar things each day. In urban American settings it's possible to move in greater anonymity and solitude - surrounded, but alone. Here though, you won't get that. The fisherman, those working on shore and buyers have ongoing and regular relationships with each other, and we certainly stood out as interlopers - though we're welcomed warmly.

While of course there are all sorts of communities in the US as well, mine are more discreet. I have friends scattered around the country (and world) from different places I've lived, from church, work, schools, neighbors and affinity groups. Like the Nyumba ya Mungu reservoir, my relationship's are wide, but often shallow. In a small community though (like Cherry experienced growing up in rural Idaho) the different facets of life overlap much more and relationships run deep. Like in Idaho, many people in these rural villages stay in the same place generation after generation. Some find that being in a small, tight-knit community can seem stifling or seemingly limit one's ability to grow and do new things. But given the fundamental human need for a sense of belonging and significance, there is undoubtedly much to be said for having those deep connections formed over years of spending time together and sharing culture and heritage. 

However, as populations grow, technology encroaches and limited land and water resources are available to support the communities dependent on them, inevitably there are and will continue to be changes, wherever you are in the world. 

Xavier carrying back a bucket of fish purchased for dinner. Center: Our local guide and longtime Globalbike coordinator, Emmanuel (Ema). Right: Trip organizer and former Globalbike board member, Liz.