Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Stone Age Man: The Hadzabe


Ever watched Gods Must be Crazy and loved the Bushmen who live in the Kalahari? Well I did! What I did not know is that we had our own Bushmen in Tanzania.

Near Lake Eyasi in the great rift valley of Tanzania, lives a tribe of people known as the Hadzabe. This nomadic hunter-gather society has remained virtually unchanged for thousands of years, relying on their hunting skill and collective knowledge of the area’s vegetation for survival. In modern times, the number of Hadzabe people has fallen drastically due to the intrusion of agriculture and safari-tourism, forcing them to the outer edge of more plentiful land. Nevertheless, they somehow manage to eke out a living.

In Tanzania, the Hadzabe have inhabited the acacia forests and scrubland around Lake Eyasi in Arusha and Meatu in Shinyanga for over 10,000 years. It is said that they are related to the Khoisan and pygmies.

They are the last remaining ancestors of the original hunter-gatherer tribes who first inhabited Tanzania, and their lifestyle has barely changed for millennia. They are skilled hunters, and use a number of methods to attract game within range of their arrows, including the use of the horns of an antelope, attaching them to their heads while mimicking the animal’s characteristic bobbing walk, which draws other curious animals closer. Another method they use is to hide under an animal skin, and wait for vultures to land, so they can easily be caught. The Hadzabe supplement their diet with roots and plants, and they have a particular liking for honey, which they trade with other tribes in exchange for arrowheads or tobacco.

The Hadzabe are not a Bantu race like the other peoples of Tanzania, but have more in common with the San Bushmen found in the Kalahari Desert of southern Africa, nearly 2000 miles away. They tend to be small in stature, physically slight, and have lighter coloured skin than most Africans. Their language too contains many of the same click sounds as that of the Bushmen, although the two are not mutually understandable. Although a number of researchers have concluded that their DNA is totally unrelated to that of the Bushmen, the surface similarities of both languages would imply an ancient root.

Hunting and honey gathering are predominantly male activities, while the women and children forage for roots or fruit. The Hadzabe people hunt anything and everything. In fact, they are the only people in Tanzania permitted to hunt giraffe, the national animal of Tanzania. Hunting such a large animal is rare however, and requires the aid of a special poison made from the bark found on the far side of Lake Eyasi. More typically, they hunt smaller quarry like dik diks (small dog-sized antelopes), birds, rabbits, and even reptiles. Although they tend to avoid eating reptiles and the greatest delicacy is baboon. The men also wear baboon fur, while the women usually wear impala skins.

The huts are made of grass, woven by the women, and can be constructed in a matter of hours. It is thought that there are somewhere between 500 and 2500 Hadzabe, and their lifestyle is increasingly threatened as their traditional lands have been taken by commercial plantations and farms. This has had the effect of creating barriers along the seasonal migration routes of the animals, upon which the Hadzabe depend for hunting.

In the 1970s, the then socialist government of Tanzania attempted to resettle them in a newly constructed settlement with schools, a clinic and brick houses, but within ten years, the Hadzabe had abandoned the settlement, going back to their traditional way of life in the bush. The pressures on them are immense, however, as the area of land they inhabit becomes increasingly constrained, and despite their resistance to formal education, a monetary economy and religious indoctrination by missionaries, they have increasingly come into contact with foreign tourists, which has brought problems of its own.

There used to be more than 10,000 of them at one time but now the Hadzabe are the last hunter-gatherers on the African continent, where 'homo habilis' (the forerunner of modern man) first emerged more than two million years ago.

It is only in the past 12,000 years that man has managed to domesticate animals and grow crops. Before that, we all lived like the Hadza.

The last few years has seen the Hadzabe in a precarious position, mainly due to the tourist industry, which has had such a devastating effect on their culture in recent years, the best thing that can happen to the Hadzabe is that they are left in peace and prevent further damage to their culture and way of life.

I can only wish that there were some 'hope' for tribes like the Hadzabe to survive in modern day Tanzania.

Mungu Ibariki Tanzania, watu na watoto wake, always.

A Tinga of Tanzania


A recent Tinga Tinga painting sold for $600 on an online art website. I know what you are thinking, in fact, most of us, Tanzanians are doomed for thinking what you are thinking, and it is indeed exactly, what I was thinking too. $600 for a Tingatinga! Are they mad? The simple answer my friends, is no, they are not.

We may not value the art on our doorsteps but tourists and expats surely do, some people have not even visited Tanzania, yet are aware of our arts and crafts. The majority of us reading this, will not own a Tingatinga (thankfully I do) and some of us won't even know what a Tingatinga is, so I think it's time for a lesson in Tingatinga history…

Once there was a man called Edward S. Tingatinga. During the 1960s, he established an art form that became associated with Tanzania.

Today, "Tingatinga" is the Tanzanian term for this form of art, known most intimately in Tanzania, Kenya, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Japan, Switzerland etc. Over the years, knowledge about Tingatinga has spread to other parts of Africa and Europe, as well as to other English-speaking parts of the world. In the past, Tingatinga art could be sold on its name alone, but increasingly other works of art are being presented as "Tingatinga" as well.

Boiled down to its core, Tingatinga art can be defined as painting on Masonite using bicycle paint. Market limitations have prevented artists from working in larger formats. In addition, the choice of design in Tingatinga and other types of African art has often been adapted to the purchaser's expectations of what should be included in an African painting. Bicycle paint is a good medium to work in when making clear, vibrant colored paintings that contain sharp contrasts. Since the paint does not dry very fast, it requires that the artist first paint the background, letting the paint dry before working on the foreground design.

This technique of letting the background dry, as well as the thick consistency of bicycle paint, is what make Tingatinga paintings so easy to interpret, since they display contours and clearly separated color surfaces. This media also means that today Tingatinga designs cover a verity of media such as wooden trays, plates, cups, glasses, seats, spire tires and bicycle parts. You should go watch them paint, it's absolutely fascinating.


Tingatinga's successors developed the decorative vein of Tingatinga painting, while the artist himself painted "the big five" and other motifs that were not at all based on the decorative art style. "The big five" was and is a central theme of art and handicrafts from southern and eastern Africa, symbolizing the typical, large animals on the continent: elephant, lion, giraffe, hippopotamus and antelope. It has also become the heart and soul of African tourist art. Although Tingatinga did not invent “the big five” but it is a subject in almost every genre of African art.

Tingatinga like any art has its influences. Many Tingatinga paintings illustrate both the origins of and the meeting between east and west in eastern Africa.

The development assistance policies of the Scandinavian countries have, generally speaking, both invited and provided the economic prerequisites for cultural endeavors, to a larger degree than aid to Africa from other countries. Tingatinga artists have been supported by the purchase of individual works and whole collections, as well as through the printing and sales of postcards.

Entrepreneurial African artists have, together with Scandinavian artists and cultural workers from development assistance organizations, tried to find those sorts of products, which the market will accept. The myth that neither colonial culture nor post-colonial development assistance operations can influence "free" Africans is a philosophical problem, which cannot be refuted enough. The most reasonable conclusion one can reach about Tingatinga art is to describe the meeting between Scandinavians and Tingatinga and his colleagues as historic and as having influences on both Western and African cultures.

Among Edward Tingatinga's successors, his half brother Simon Mpata should be mentioned. In the beginning of his career, he painted tourist-friendly landscape motifs such as "Kilimanjaro" with its snow-capped peak, landscapes with exotic animals, etc.

Masonite boards painted with bicycle paint can still be found in well-stocked "curio shops", at the Slipway, at the Tingatinga cooperative on Haile Selaisse Road just behind Club Maisha, as well as in solidarity shops located throughout Western Europe and many international websites. The export of Tingatinga paintings from Tanzania to Kenya's capital, Nairobi, and other tourist centers, seems to be lively and gaining Tanzania a very prosperous reputation in the art world.

Indeed the Tingatinga is so popular in the Western world that it's being digitized into a cartoon.

I am hoping that you will now go out and get yourself a Tingatinga; they are going to be invaluable assets in the future, and if you are not into investments and the like, just buy one to add some colour onto your walls. If you still don't fancy a Tingatinga yourself, make sure you promote this beautiful art among your peers and be proud to say that you're from the Tinga country.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Home is where the heart is


Tanzania is a land of many wonders—Kilimanjaro, the Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater, and the island of Zanzibar with its labyrinth of narrow, winding streets lined with exotic shops, bazaars, colonial mansions, mosques and squares. From the great heights of Kilimanjaro to the streets of Zanzibar, I miss it all.


There is something about the light in Dar es Salaam though; the blue sea and the palm trees that make it all seem like a dream. Of course I remember living there with the frustrations of power cuts that were all the more painful because of such dripping humidity and heat, trying to shop and rush about doing chores in that heat with sweat trickling down the back of your legs.


Some people, when they find out I am from Tanzania seem to think I must be deprived of good things and ask questions such as:


Where is that?
I say it is in Africa, East Africa. They say, Oh, we thought Tasmania was in Australia, I have to cover my head with my hands in disbelief and say it is Tanzania not Tasmania. They still have no clue where it is and say, we thought Africa was a country!


Do you live in mud huts?
Over the years just because of the effect, it has on certain people I have begun to say YES of course we live in mud huts.


Do you live in the jungle with wild animals?
Yes, Mowgli is a close friend.


Do you speak English?
This one is the funniest for me; I am stood in front of this person talking in English, sometimes better English than they speak yet the question!


So often, when they finish asking me questions, I tell them about Tanzania. About Dar.


It's been an experience telling people all about Tanzania and getting that warm feeling when you see the expressions on people's faces when I describe how beautiful NgoroNgoro crater is and how breathtaking the Selous is or how gorgeous the Kilimanjaro is, taking pride in the assets of my country, my home. However, most of all I get excited talking about the people. When I tell them that everyone on Mazengo road knows my name, in fact everyone in Upanga knows my name, even the traders on the roadside know my name, people feel I am exaggerating and that people cannot possibly be this friendly, well they are and I miss that.


At this point they realise I am not deprived of good things, I am indeed abundant with fond memories of my country.


For the last couple of weeks, I have been pondering the things I miss the most in Dar... and I have been reassuring myself with those things that I miss the least.


The Many Things I Miss the Most:
Peacocks at the Karimjee Hall. When I was younger, my dad used to take us for a drive every Sunday morning and spot as many peacocks as possible, a memory that has stayed me always.

Being hot and sweaty all the time. I miss the heat so much, the sunshine, the humidity, and the heat.


Having an amazing designer to create gorgeous sundresses especially for me. Who also happened to be very economically priced


Constant greetings, even when I'm in the mood to be grouchy, being called "dada" by almost everyone: dada Bauna wipi leo bateta, kabichi, vitungu, mbazi? I miss that so much.


ZANZIBAR. How can you not miss Zanzibar? The beautiful breezy beaches and laid back culture. My ultimate paradise


Oysterbay and the roadside food. I have come across many a facebook messages and websites that share ones passion for oysterbay and the roadside food, the Muhogo and Kachumbari, Tale batata, Madafu, Mix, Kichwa nazi…I miss driving to O'bay on Sundays and chilling out with the family and a few friends. We would indeed just sit there and do absolutely nothing, just watch the other cars drive up and down the road, loud music streaming out the cars, but yet I miss it.

The beach, this is one thing that sets me off, I love how close we live to the beach, how we can drive there in a matter of a few minutes, I don't think I appreciated it much when I was at home, now that I am in a country where most beaches have pebbles not sand, I miss the beach.

Mazengo road, I miss the vibrancy of Mazengo road, the feeling of togetherness, almost like one big family and how we all look out for each other. I miss walking down the street on a hot afternoon and stopping to talk to people who have lived on the same street as I did for the last 15 years. I miss seeing the children shout and play outside the house, I miss the neighbours arguments, I miss the clothes hanging outside to dry, I miss the constant noise and banter.

Sea cliff, Garden Bistro, George and Dragon, Maisha and The Irish Pub. Hmm. Good times - that pretty much sums it all up. I miss partying with my friends until the early hours and then having a quiet drink at Sea cliff. I miss the laid-back attitude of the waiters and the barmen; I miss the feeling of a cold drink going down your throat on a warm humid day.

However, most of all I miss my family and friends. I miss the gatherings, the drama, the belonging and the celebrations.

A Few Things I Miss the Least:
The power and water cuts. This was also a major setback, we were left with nothing to do and nowhere to go with day long and sometimes night long powercuts, I do not miss these. Well, the only times I think of them now is when I listen to Boney M, I remember listening to a Boney M tape on a battery operated tape player.

Garbage in the streets and with the takataka Lorries spilling it all over the roads I hated that!
The speed of the internet. Oh boy! This was a major setback, emailing could not have been any more difficult than it was in Dar and from what I have heard, it still is!

The traffic and a traffic police officer stopping me on the corner of Uhuru Street nearly every day back from work, without any reason, I soon learnt not to stop for them.

The daladalas. I certainly do not miss driving alongside the daladalas on Msimbazi street or in Kariakoo!

Crows, crows, crows (curse you, crows!), the constant noise of the crows and the constant stealing, oh the nerve on some of those crows.

The potholes, I think the rallies in Tanzania should be held on the roads in Upanga. The potholes are bound to create some kind of super special stage. It is safe to say that I do not miss those potholes at all.

As you can see my pros definitely outweigh my cons, I'm sure there are people reading this miles away feeling the same way as I am, it's not until you leave your home that you realise how amazing it really is.

More recently, when browsing good old Facebook, I came across a cousins profile page and her status read, "Home is where the heart is." She could not have been more right. To Tanzania, I will return one day, but for now the memories so dear, I will cherish and for the country I love, I will pray.

Bhavna Pandya-Barratt

Published in What's Happening in Dar, 2009.