Nane Nane

August eighth is Farmer’s Day in Tanzania and in Arusha they have a HUGE festival that is called Nane Nane. When translated this means “Eight, Eight.” All of the schools and most of the businesses were closed as everyone was heading to the festival. The festival was held in a large field and the perimeters were set up with booths of all types. Some showing tractors, selling cheese, doing hair, the local college recruiting, an animal tent, food and drink tents...etc. The festival had been there all weekend and I had heard great things about it, but we went on Monday which was the actual holiday and it was complete chaos. You could not pay me to repeat that day. There were hundreds and hundreds of people there. The whole time we were there we saw three other Mzungu’s around other than us. There is nothing wrong with this other than some people look to us as an easy target. 

At one point in time we were among a huge crowd that was trying to get through this opening in the wall that was about eight feet wide. By huge crowd, I mean at least 100 people. I am sure it was more. We were packed body to body and I was clutching onto the hand of my friend in front of me praying that I didn’t get separated and then become an even bigger target. To make everything better a SUV was sitting at a stop in the opening trying to get through. The people were trying to push through from both sides of the opening and couldn’t because the car was there and the people would not back up to let the car through. We stood for ten minutes just standing there as people were pushing into us trying to yell at the people in front of us to let the car through. No one budged and finally the people right next to me put their hands on the car and literally pushed it through the opening and then people. At this point there were hundreds of people backed up from the stop in traffic and as soon as the car started to move through people went crazy and started shoving and pushing everyone. People were stepping on each other, over each other, and children were getting trampled. Everyone was yelling. The people shoving were yelling and other people were yelling at then to stop. I honestly probably looked like I was going to pass out because I was gripping the hand of my friend as she was pulling me through this mass but our arms were fully extended and I was far away from her. People started reaching their hands into my pockets and grabbing me. Some yelled “Mzungu, Mzungo!” as they were shoving us. For about five LONG minutes I thought I was actually going to be harmed. I probably would have except that God sent a protector my way. A man who was directly smashed up behind me put his arms out on either side of me and was blocking and yelling at people to leave me alone and to stop pushing. It was too crowded and chaotic when we made it to the other side that I did not even see this man to thank him. My friends leading the group were protecting a few children who were getting knocked to the ground. It was chaos. 

After this, Angie and I were pretty shaken up and were ready to leave. Her, Amanda and I decided to go ahead and walk down to this complex named Ngiro. We had been there before and is a very Western place where you can sit down and eat a good meal, there is even a market with western food in it, if you are willing to pat $4 for a small Snickers bar, it is great. It took a lot of will power to walk out without buying anything. We sat and ate while we waited for two of our friends who were still at the festival to meet up with us. 

When they got there they were completely shaken up. Our one friend had been distracted by a group of local boys who were having a rapping contest and he joined in. The girl who was with him was immediately surrounded by a group of guys who started harassing her and trying to knock her to the ground. Our guy friend could not hear her yelling for him and thankfully a police officer came over and chased then guys away. It is very rare that things like this happen and we have to be aware of our surroundings at all times. 

When we were waiting on our taxi driver to pick us up from the complex, our guy friend who felt horrible about letting that happen to our friend was really upset and ended up leaving the complex on a boda boda which is a motor bike taxi here. Amanda tried pulling him off but he was being hard headed and left. It was dark outside and we never take boda boda’s, let alone in the dark. He was robbed on the way home to the volunteer house. It was a hectic day but we all made it home safely and in one piece. But like I said, you could not PAY me to go back. I am always safe and hyper-aware when I am here but some things you have no control over. I am openly accepting prayers :) I promise Tanzania is not a horrible place filled of corrupted people. For every bad experience I have, I have ten more great ones. 

I am picking up quite a bit of Swahili since my students do not speak any English and on a dala dala ride home the other day I was able to have a full ten minute conversation with a very nice older man sitting next to me. I was so proud of my self!! There are always random local people looking out for us no matter where we are who would step in if something were to happen to us and it is very reassuring. I told my mama at school and one of my favorite teachers about our Nane Nane experience and they were deeply upset and concerned that we were unfortunate enough to have the experience that we did. Tanzania is full of goodness.