Bodily Injury, Las Vegas, and How I Had a Gun Pointed at Me

I seems like trouble always finds me when I'm abroad, and I guess Tanzania is no exception.  I'll be honest, yesterday and today have been kind of a mess.

For the past few days, all of us PCTs have been living and training at the Msimbazi Centre on the outskirts of Dar es Salaam.  We haven't been allowed to leave the premises, due to the fact that none of us can speak Swahili and that Dar can be a somewhat dangerous place (violence and assault rates are relatively low, but the petty theft rate is one of the highest in the world).  Our next step is the city of Morogoro west of Dar for further training and homestays, the idea being that the smaller, safer town as well as the host family experience will allow us to integrate into the culture more smoothly before PC sets us loose on the country for two years.  Today was the day all PCTs made this transition from Msimbazi to Morogoro.

Well, all PCTs except me.

While playing ultimate frisbee at Msimbazi yesterday, I tripped on a stone and sprained my left ankle.  Bad.  It hurt so much I could barely walk, and I pretty much had to be carried everywhere.  Keep in mind that I JUST got over spraining my right ankle back in July, which made this suck even more.  Luckily, though, my fellow PCTs are awesome and really helped me out, be it by bandaging my foot, pumping me full of ibuprofen, or giving me piggyback rides.  I owe them all big time.

Even though I was 99% sure that it was just a sprain (i.e. no broken bones), it is Peace Corps policy to take me to the hospital and get it checked out (x-rays, etc.).  Therefore, while everyone else hopped on a bus to go to Morogoro this morning, I stayed behind to go to the hospital.  Lame.  After getting a first-hand look at the Tanzanian health system all morning (It's pretty good, although I had to keep telling the tech that it was my ankle that was messed up, not my knee), I got dropped off at a random hotel downtown since there were no more Peace Corps cars available and I would have to wait until tomorrow to rejoin the group at Morogoro.

At this point, I had a bright idea: why not explore Dar while I'm here?  I have nothing but time until I leave tomorrow morning.  What could possibly go wrong?  Nevermind the fact that I am alone, speak none of the language, have been living in a walled compound my entire time in Tanzania (which has been only four days), have only a vague idea of what the coastline of Dar looks like (much less the roads), have a gimpy left ankle, and am carrying three weeks' salary as well as my camera on me while wandering aimlessly around one of the pickpocket/mugging capitals of the world.  Seriously, looking back on this, I might as well have had a huge "ROB ME" sign stapled to my forehead.

In any case, using the sun as my compass, I hobbled my way towards the beach.  On the way, I managed to order some lunch with the help of some friendly Chinese people who spoke some Swahili (my first Chinese to Swahili translation... awesome).  I quickly learned that, given my compromised state, I was like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti; despite my best efforts to look pissed off and busy, something about me just screamed "mzungu sucker" since it seemed that almost every street vendor/con artist seemed to gravitate towards me, chanting "Hello! Las Vegas! California! Baseball!"  It was annoying, but not entirely unexpected.

After about three hours of being lost and taking pictures of the harbor and Indian Ocean (which, by the way, are both beautiful), I ended up on a secluded beachside road taking a picture of what appeared to be a particularly nice-looking building located behind a closed gate.  As I learned from the military police that immediately pulled up and started yelling at me, this was the State House, and it is considered a felony to take pictures of said building.  After much submissive and rational explanation (well, as rational as I could muster given that one of them was pointing an AK-47 at me), they finally let me go, making me delete the picture in the process.  I think the turning point in the conversation was when I explained that I was in the Peace Corps and I was teaching physics: most of them had heard of it and said they were glad I was doing good for the country.  That being said, I think they got a real kick out of scaring the piss out of me.  Glad I could make their day.

Well, after an additional four hours of limping around Dar, here I am: in an internet cafe in the middle of the city with no support looking for dinner.  Wish me luck!