I learned this weekend that the term dala dala comes from dolla(r) dolla(r), which is what the conducter used to shout. It eventually transformed into dala dala. I also continued to learn that I'm nutty for riding them. Basically the dala dala is a minivan/bus costing 20 cents a ride and is filled with seats for about 20, but usually you find twice the amount of people inside. The ceilings are covered with some sort of cheap carpet recylced from someone's house or a sleezy motel and pipes are installed on the ceiling to act as a hand rail. I've only had the pleasure of having a seat twice. Though, it was almost three times, but I felt the old lady should sit instead of me, which I also learned was not a typical Tanzanian move, silly me. I'm usually squeezed in between people who smell, remember no deodarant here and its HOT, and who continuously step on my feet. Being on a dala dala is a wild ride, which often requires extensive praying while the driver weaves in and out of traffic. I'm always so grateful when I get off and am able to breath again. I got some pictures of the wild things, though none of them are the one I take, it gives an idea of the beasts that rule the streets of Dar.
A leaning dala dala.
A new, shiny dala dala. Wish mine looked and was empty as this one.
A dala dala decked out in Manchester United stickers. Still trying to get a picture of the cramped insides. But this should give you an idea.
No comments:
Post a Comment