Hi friends. OK, put on your counselor hat, and let me vent a bit.

I just returned from a harrowing adventure that I hope I’ll never repeat, but am sure I will. An African friend of ours was riding his bike home and was hit by a motorcycle, which promptly took off. He called me to ask if I could drive him home. Off I went at 8pm to find him, pick him up, and then drive him a ridiculously long ways to his home. It took nearly two hours to get there through the thick traffic, and then the real adventure began as I started to make my way home. I’ll bullet point some of the things that are inevitably experienced driving at night here in Tanzania:

• Traffic, busses and cars driving on the dirt shoulder, toward oncoming cars, three lanes where there should be one, thick exhaust, and more traffic. Any chance to force a piece of their bumper in front of you is seized, thus giving them the right of way. Cross traffic can only do one thing – force the nose of their car right into the thick of the congestion, blocking any forward movement, trying to get across. If it sounds insane and ridiculous, you’re just at the tip of the iceberg.
• African people are black – duh, and at night, they are constantly cutting across the roads to get to other side. They are dressed in dark colors, and are completely impossible to see. If you hit one, your life goes down the tubes as you are in serious jeopardy of being attacked and mobbed. Vendors and workers walk along the side of the road or in the middle of it, in the blackness, with some sort of death wish, pushing huge carts which stick way out into the center of the road.
• Street lights, traffic lights, any lights are absent or out because of electricity shortage, making it even more dark. And then, in the darkness, on nearly every road, including the largest roads in the city, all of a sudden you hit a huge speed bump which jacks your suspension – no warning, but there it is.
• Busses, motorcycles, other cars all swerve into your lane to avoid dala dalas and busses that quickly stop in the middle of the road to pick up passengers.
• If any important officials are in the area, all traffic is stopped and they scream through the intersection. Or the traffic cops randomly decide to let certain lanes through while others wait (I’ve waited up to 20 minutes at an intersection.)
• And then there is the broken down vehicle or the accident in the middle of the road that just sits there in the darkness without moving off to the side.
• Very few streets are labelled with signs, at every intersection people are begging for money or trying to sell random things, speakers are blasting out music, announcements, or the call to prayer all over the place, horns are honking, and I keep praying God will get me through this ordeal.

OK, as if that isn’t enough (can you tell I’m venting at this point?) let me share with you what else happened tonight. After I dropped off my friend, I was alone in the car making the long drive home. At a narrow spot in the road, with deep guttars on either side, there was a collision of a bus and SUV sitting in the middle of the road. It seemed like the road was completely blocked. After waiting there about 15 minutes with nothing happening but a mob of Africans swarming around the vehicles, finally a car tried to squeeze between the damaged car and the deep guttar. If he can do it, so can I, even though my car is wider than his – this is my only chance. So as I’m squeezing, with at least a half inch to spare on either side, a motorcycle from the other direction pulls up next to me, wedging himself between my car and the wrecked car. I try to pull forward and all “heaven” breaks loose. People start yelling, shouting, banging their fists on my car, a swarm of people is surrounding me, and I know that if I don’t get out of there quickly things are going to go from bad to worse. Motorcycle is stuck now, I’m stuck, riot is building, God help me! Finally the motorcycle backs up a couple inches, I crank wheel toward ditch and oncoming cars, begin to inch my way out, and eventually I’m free. I still don’t know what all happened, but I’m making the commitment to only drive at night in absolute emergency situations.

OK, here endeth my vent session. In conclusion, home is a nice place to be at night, and if I have to go out, I think I’ll choose going “kwa migu” (by foot.) All the time, though, I’m blatantly aware that God is sitting next to me, protecting me according to His grace. Blessings to you and your family tonight. Eric