A Breakfast Visitor

Among the Pare tribe, as with almost all other cultures, it is customary to serve food to the guests. For the several visits that we made, though, the hosts did not eat with us. We would be seated in the finest room with the best fare that the host had to offer. Having made sure of our comfort, the hosts would politely excuse themselves and leave the room while we ate.

As two 'wazungu' brothers, though, we were quite an unusual site in the Pare village of Gonja-Moare. In fact, I was told by a very proud hotel owner that we were the first two wazungu who had ever stayed at his hotel. As the elder brother, I had been awarded the sole 'deluxe room' in the small hotel. It was a 'deluxe room' because it was the only room that had its own bathroom. However, plumbing in remote villages in Tanzania is problematic, at best, and so the added luxury was somewhat dubious. When I was presented the room along with the two candles that would get me through the night (the electricity being out of order) I was reminded of the alleged quote from the first criminal to be executed by firing squad -- if it wasn't for the honor he would have just as soon not participated.

So there was undoubtably a temptation to bend custom a little and watch the wazungu eat. I had gotten a small taste of our celebrity status that morning when I took my early morning walk through town. Normally, as a photographer, I try to be inconspicuous and blend into the background. I very much wanted to do that this morning since I wanted some candid shots of what village life was like. It was clear, however, within a few minutes, that this wasn't going to happen. Even at this early hour, word had gotten out about the two wazungu brothers who had arrived last night -- and, sure enough, there was one of them right now wandering down the middle of the village!

For our breakfast later that morning, Lenny, Ron and I were enjoying the traditional breakfast of hot, spiced milk and toast and talking quietly among ourselves. I looked up and noticed a visitor trying to make herself as small as possible in the far corner of the room. Lenny was ready to shoo her away but I was enchanted by her curiosity and courage. I reached behind me for my camera and took a picture of her as I envisioned her that morning, tiny and trying to be even tinier.

I learned in Gonja-Moare that a curious multiplication process takes place whenever I photographed a child. You take a picture of a single child, turn around or spend a moment fiddling with your camera and then turn back to find that the child has mysteriously become two children, or three, four or five children. The curious thing is that they are usually perfectly posed together. You don't have to ask them to scrunch closer together or re-position themselves in any way. They instinctively arrange themselves into perfect 'Kodak moments'.

That is exactly what happened this morning. My one curious little mouse quickly became three, arranged in perfect ascending order and staring up at me hopefully. Sometimes, very rarely, being a photographer is easy.

Tales (Tall and Otherwise)

Recent Projects

Tanzania Trip Main Page