Daladala Etiquette

It always surprises me when something I have observed hundreds of times finally impresses me with what it actually is.  I have ridden on matatus in Kenya and the daladalas (same thing, different names) here in Zanzibar City many, many times and always appreciated the politeness I experienced from both the touts and my fellow passengers.  I have always hoped the kindness shown to me as I hoist myself up into the minivan is in deference to my age, not my white face.  But, one never knows for sure.  Except, here on Zanzibar Island, I honestly believe it is much more the former than the latter.

Daladalas lined up to go.

We take daladala 507 Samaki (Fish) going into or returning from the city center, so the touts always recognize us as we wait by the side of our street for a ride.  Almost always we are the only wazungu on the dala, which I enjoy, as I like the natural, loose interaction of the other passengers.  Then, I began to notice the general respect and care people showed one another.  The touts, whose job it is to solicit as many riders as possible and thus up the revenue for their drivers, always show patience with the slow boarding and alighting of the older passengers, often helping them by carrying their larger bags on or off the dala.  Likewise, when a mother with a small child boards, the tout will usually lift the child in to a passenger to hold until the mother gets seated and can hold the child herself.  I have never seen a mother, child, or passenger protest--it's just expected.  And, though the legal passenger limit for a dala is 18, it's not unusual for 22 or 25 to be crammed in, especially when schools let out and students, who ride at a discount, crowd in.  Yet, I have never heard anyone complain about the crush. I myself have been so tightly squished that I expected to exit at least a foot taller and a foot thinner around my middle.  Still, everyone remains calm and pleasant, with occasional jokes about the situation.  It's civility at its best in the push of daily life.

Which leads me to comment on how erroneously so many Americans picture life in a Muslim culture.  There is not only a huge ignorance of Islam itself, but an equally large failure to understand that Islam and Muslim life is as varied as Christianity.  I, as a Christian, certainly resent when I am summarily categorized with those I view as right-wing whackos, whom I believe distort the Gospel for their own self interests.  And, so it must be for Zanzibarians, who are not all uniform either, but seem very uniformly honest, respectful, and open in their interactions with each other and with outsiders such as I.  This is the only place I have been in Africa--and I have been in 12 African countries so far--where I feel perfectly safe at all times in all places and never even hesitate to hand my bag to a tout or fellow passenger as I board or exit a dala.  It is wonderfully refreshing when I pause and think about the meaning of such civility, a civility I do not see elsewhere, not even in my own country anymore.