Primarily concerned with the country’s political, economic and cultural development in the shadow of colonialism, our class is is co-taught by a political science professor at the University of Dar es Salaam along with our very own Mahiri Mmwita. Inside the classroom every morning, the content of our readings and lectures as well as subsequent class discussions have challenged many preconceived notions of mine. Tanzania has been fascinating historical case study in regard to its shining leader Mwalimu Julius Nyerere’s socialist policies that promoted national unity and therefore avoided ethnic conflict — probably at the expense of the country’s economy, which required IMF intervention after it bottomed out in the 1980’s.

Outside the classrom, we’ve seen the remnants of British occupation and Nyerere’s socialist policies in modern day Dar es Salaam. Colonial rule, for example, produced a small group of elites who still hold political power today. Nyerere’s socialist message also championed land ownership as a god-given right, leading to a population in the depths of poverty that would rather be proud of what they own then compete for more. Walking around the streets of the city, its hard not to notice the comfortable pride with which most people carry themselves, perhaps so conditioned with the hard times that change or bettering ones prospects isn’t the same intoxicating force it is in the Western world.

I’ve found the bubble that each Tanzanian lives in to be quite refreshing for this very reason — its not just the materialism of the developed world that’s missing here, it’s also most of its pressures and what-do-I-need-to-do-next anxieties. Don’t get me wrong, life in Dar es Salaam is certainly still chaotic; one need only to observe any road, paved or unpaved, during rush hour to see that this is true. But people here embrace this chaos differently, the outcome being a simpler, slower, and less stressful life for most Tanzanians in my observations. Cliché or not, the idea that most Africans are happier with less certainly holds true in this country.

The pillar of Nyerere’s socialism was his respectful maintenance of the traditional, tribal community based on personal ties, referred to as ujamaa, that people here have known for so long. Forced into a market-based capitalist system, most now bemoan the foreign influence and other factors that have led to the crumbling of this communal way of life. Still, in our experiences teaching English at the woodcarvers village in the neighborhood of Mwenge and elsewhere in observing familial  “bubbles,” I’ve begin to understand how ujamaa will never quite leave the fabric of the country.

Our most riveting discussions in the classroom, which often continue long after class has ended in our struggles to understand the complexities of the country’s political development, have revolved around how to reconcile this undying traditional spirit with the tides of capitalism and competition. I’ve greatly appreciated the diversity of thought present in such discourse, especially when the discussions turn to touchy subjects about the “White Man’s Burden” and the scars left by British colonialists.

The exclusive status we hold here strictly based on our whiteness is both interesting and admittedly unsettling.  Shopkeepers often call out to us in broken English, jumping to the right assumption that we as whites might have more shillings in our pockets. While initially annoyed at this constant chorus of “Welcome very much friend!”, I’ve come to appreciate how they only recognize me as an opportunity for business and nothing more. If they aren’t trying to sell you something, most people here are overly kind to you, going out of their way to say “hello” and smile. Very little anti-American sentiment exists in my experience.

I hope I’ve given you at least a small taste of what a unique place Tanzania really is.