Battle for the Soul of Tabora

In the blue corner, a young, brash Tanzanian woman wearing a kanga wrapped around her hips moves with familiarity about the vendors and customers. The mama lishas (street vendors) have set up their charcoal pits and are serving up delicious rice, fish, beans, spinach for 1000Tsh (less than a dollar). These are likely the people she lives her life with day in and day out. Except for me, of course. I’m the “mzungu” (foreigner) that she sings about it. Every now and then, my name “mzungu” comes up as she belts out her tune. She comes closer to me, perhaps aware that this will embarrass me further. She thrusts her hips sharply a few times. I’m starting to get the picture. The kisses blown in my direction solidify my reluctant suspicion. She’s propositioning me; still, I can’t tell if this is for real or if it’s merely meant as entertainment.

In any case, her loud singing of “mzungu” followed and preceded by various words unknown to me are clearly funny to those gathered for lunch. I’m laughing too. This was not what I had in mind when I walked out from the hotel to have a real Tanzanian lunch. I’m embarrassed but in good spirits. But there is one person who is clearly not amused by this scene.

There he stands in the red corner, gap-toothed and wearing a tie. Clearly not intending to have lunch, the joy and sex-filled singing stops him in his tracks. The sermon begins. He preaches with the conviction of the earliest missionaries who made the long, precarious journeys from Europe so many generations ago. His voice resounds as if he stands at the top of a pulpit, overlooking a cavernous cathedral. Really though, it’s just a few of us sitting quietly having lunch on a dusty roadside corner. Most people are going on about their business, ignoring the young preacher and his words, which will be remembered as the sermon delivered at dusty roadside street vendor stand.

What a strange confluence of individuals, economies, and ideologies at this streetside lunch spot. If this was indeed a battle for the soul of Tabora, it’s hard to say if any person won. It seemed more as if indifference or annoyance were the main victors, as in they were the main reasons why most citizens of the Tabora-ites were shutting down their ears to the words of this preacher and instead laughing to the words of the song. Or maybe, it is universal truth that songs about sex will always serve as better entertainment than words of moral condemnation.