Another one of Emily's Ramblings

I debated whether or not I should put up this blog post. It does not show Tanzanians at their finest, and I really don't want anyone to think that I don't value this country or its truly beautiful people. I also don't want anyone to have assumptions of what it is like here. The fact of the matter is that we live in a dangerous world, and on occasion, this can impact us. I am experiencing something here that is just plain different. In so many of my classes in International Relations, I have often covered the topic of post-colonial discourse and its impact on how our world continues to grow or develop. When comparing the style of living here to my home life, it is essential to recognize the concept of difference. This may sound simple, but when you are truly experiencing how you live your life compared to someone else across the world, it completely turns your perspective upside down. It's not culture shock, per say. It's more of a continuously mind-blowing concept that there are so many people in this world that are living lives that have absolutely no resemblance to mine. I think this kind of sounds obvious, but it helps me daily to embrace the world with an open mind and to recognize that everyone has a story that should be heard.

The reason I mention post-colonial discourse, is that many might classify life here as "under-developed" or "poor" or even worse, "barbaric". That mindset will never get us anywhere. The only way I can truly describe life here is as different. It's hard to find words to describe it. I don't mean different in a derogatory manner. I just state it as a one word summary. Ok, I'll stop rambling about this stuff and get into why I'm posting this in the first place.

 I decided to post it, because it tells of an experience here. These are experiences that I will learn from and even though they can be horrific, they can still help us to grow and increase our knowledge of the wider world. Isn't that what study abroad is all about?

I was warned before I came here about mob justice. I tried to take it light heartedly, but it was still lingering at the back of my mind. Tanzania does not have a very effective police force. People often take the matters of the law into their own hands and this is mostly done through acts of violence. It breaks my heart, but it seems that there is no other way to keep the chance of thievery to a minimum. Of course, I don't believe that, being the pacifist that I am, but this is what dominates a lot of the Tanzanian sense of justice.

For example, if someone is accused of stealing and a scene is made of it, people will be badly injured or killed by those around the incident who will forma  mob. A few days ago in Mwenge (a large marketplace and bus terminal that I often frequent), just an hour or two after I was there, a man was doused in petrol and set on fire because he was accused of stealing. This is a regular occurrence in Tanzania, I'm sad to say.

This concept of mob justice was especially relevant to me and some of my friends today. After a lovely lunch, a group of 5 of us headed to the national stadium to watch a football match. A standard ticket is 5,000 shillings, which equals about $3.50. Not a bad price for watching a professional sports game, aye? If I could get Giants tickets for that price, I'd go every game! Anyways, while we were standing in line (I use the term line loosely here, for it's more a wild crowd) several things happened to us in a very short amount of time. I heard my room mate ahead of me shout, "HEY!" extremely loud and at the same time, a man tried to trip me. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me" in Swahili, then he responded in English that I should be sorry and grabbed my arm while pushing me away. The next thing I knew, a few riot police appeared and pushed the man away and got to my room mate, who had been robbed. Large shouts began happening, but luckily the crowd dispersed before anything else could happen. The fact that we did not make a big deal meant the crowd didn't either. That's when I noticed my phone had been stolen. I checked all of my pockets a million times just to make sure, but yeah, it was gone.

I am very careful and cautious in these situations. I didn't bring a purse, id, or very much money with me for this exact reason. I'm aware of my surroundings and make sure to protect anything I have on me. I didn't even notice that someone had reached into my front pocket and taken my phone, which is a little unnerving. I thought, "Oh well, these things happen". However, as the day went on, things got more interesting.

The game was a lot of fun. We had a blast and I really loved it. The crowds didn't get too rowdy and people mostly enjoyed themselves. At one point of a few of my friends went out of the stadium to get some food. About ten seconds after they were outside, a man ran by them and grabbed one of the girl's wallets from her hands. She instinctively cried out, but then realized her mistake as several people grabbed the man and started beating him with sticks and police batons. Yes, the police were joining in too. One of my friends, a guy, started pulling people off him and they soon realized that the man had already passed on the wallet to someone else so he no longer had it. Fortunately she did not have more than a few dollars worth of shillings and her phone in the wallet. She begged them to stop beating him and they soon did, basically because she was white. In any other circumstances, they may have beaten him to death.

On our way out from the game there were several other attempts of robbery. While I was sitting on the daladala, getting money out to pay the conductor, a man reached in and grabbed my arm attempting to take both my watch and my money that it was in my hand. I rarely will find a situation where I will use an act of violence, but this man was quite persistent in stealing my 2,000 shillings (about $1.25). I hit him quite hard. I probably would've just let him have it, but I actually needed the bus fare!

Anywho, those were our experiences today. We all felt pretty emotionally exhausted. What I couldn't get out of my head was the fact that these people who choose to steal knowingly risk their lives for very small amounts of money. Imagine how desperate they could possibly be. But what I often wonder is why this concept of mob justice exists. It's a terrifying idea and I have no idea where it comes from. Actually, maybe I do. There is a definite lack of faith in the system within Tanzania. The basic instinct of taking control in the situation does seem "barbaric" to an outsider, but really, what else can they do when a government doesn't act to take care of the safety of a country's people? I am in no way justifying this act of violence. It's atrocious and hard to grasp, but even in that desperate moment when a man reached through a bus window and began grabbing my belongings, I acted in violence. Yes, it was self protection, but in a way, isn't mob justice?

If you have something to add to this, I would really appreciate hearing your stories or ideas. It is a troubling subject that I experience great difficulty approaching during my time abroad.