Pit toilet hazards

Pit latrines are the most common type of toilet facility, especially in rural areas, where infrastructure lags behind necessity. They range from clean and modern to crude, makeshift, and downright revolting.

At their most basic, a pit latrine is nothing more than a hole in the ground. This design, though simple, fosters an unbearable stench and attracts swarms of flies, which in turn spread disease. The damp, anaerobic conditions also create an ideal breeding ground for pathogens, making contamination of nearby water sources a serious risk, particularly during the rainy season.

A step up in design, common in more thoughtfully constructed latrines, is the ventilated improved pit latrine (VIP latrine). This model includes a vent pipe with a screen, which helps reduce odor and traps flies before they can escape. Covering the hole (and having a door) when not in use is also crucial, not just to keep insects at bay but to deter bats, rats, and other creatures that seem to relish the dark recesses of human waste pits. Many latrines, however, leave the hole exposed, making them a free-for-all for critters of all types. Please, let your imagination go wild.

At our field camp, our latrines are relatively well constructed VIPs, but they come with their own hazards. On two consecutive nights, first a scorpion, then a snake, nestled themselves beneath the wooden slab that covers the hole. We spotted them just in time, avoiding what would have been an undignified disaster. And while we’ve been fortunate that the snakes have all been non-venomous, the real horror is when one vanishes into the depths of the latrine, leaving the unsettling knowledge that it is down there, somewhere, waiting. 

The hazards

A closer look

Local boat on the river: Ngalawa

View from in the boat

In Tanzania the term ngalawa is used to describe any local boat, typically a dug out canoe. The Rufiji River is full of local river crossings and as a proper boat is in our future, I thought it would be a timely moment to describe the ngalawa. 

The ngalawas in this region are crude, resolute vessels, typically single-piece dugout canoes, riddled with patches and hurried repairs, their continued use a testament not to their sturdiness but to the sheer inevitability of necessity. The tolerance for leakage is astonishing; each boat carries multiple bailing cups, a silent acknowledgment of the perpetual battle against the water’s encroachment. The seats, makeshift slats of palm fronds, offer only the faintest concession to comfort barely more forgiving than the canoe’s unyielding wood.

Propulsion is an art of precarious balance. At the stern, a lone paddler strains against the current, while at the bow, the navigator wields a long pole, prodding blindly for the ground beneath the murky surface. There are seasons when this choreography teeters on the absurd, when the river swells and the man in the back paddles with increasing desperation while the one in front, his pole flailing in empty water, finds nothing but air. In such moments, when the boat ceases to be steered and instead surrenders to the slow pull of the current, the true peril reveals itself: the dark humps of hippos downstream, their bulk motionless, while the ngalawa drifts, inexorably, towards them. At the last moment, the man at the bow sticks his pole in the mud and the tense passengers let out a collective sigh that has been slowly growing.

I have always taken a strange delight in these boats, though never without the creeping awareness of their fragility. They are, in a way, thrilling. but only for those who can afford to thrill. For the others, the ones who must board them daily without illusion or choice, there is no indulgence in adventure, only the resigned acceptance of risk. And yet, even I, knowing that capsizing is a real and likely fate, am unsettled by the thought of what lurks beneath. Not only are these waters alive with crocodiles, but among the passengers huddled beside me, most cannot swim.

This ngalawa had to have two passengers removed. Which means it probably should have had at least four removed.

The ngalawa needs to be entered wherever it lands. Here it was on a steep sand bank, note the guys feet are covered. Quick retreat for crocs...

The seats

Rufiji wooded grassland walking

The vibrant grass contrasting with the soft overcast colors is one of my favorite things about rainy season here

There’s been an unseasonable dry spell leading up to the rainy season, so we decided to take advantage of it this weekend. Since January, it has only rained a few times, though last week brought a few storms, a harbinger of the coming rains. The ground is still relatively dry, but December’s rains left behind small pools of water, with wildlife dispersed widely.

This is one of my favorite times of year to be out walking. You can feel the plants and grasses at the very start of their transformation, about to reshape the landscape. Soon, the grasses will tower over my head in places, and flooded swamps will make bush navigation much more challenging. The substrate is typically wet enough to identify tracks of animals.

We knew of a spot with some open trails as well as some small pools of water. The area was largely swamp and marshland along with shrubs and wooded grasslands. It's a fantastic area for walking with sufficient animal trails and open areas. We saw some fresh tracks of buffalo, kudu, and some very fresh scat of African Wild Dog. The morning was overcast which allowed us to stay out relatively late, but around 11am the sun broke from behind the clouds and we knew we had to get out of the area before we got roasted! 

Typical wooded area

Nice grassy area, checking for signs of African Wild Dog

Rufiji river delta walking

Walking across dried riverbeds

The Rufiji River has an impressive delta that provides a constantly changing landscape depending on the flow of the river. I really enjoy going out walking in the river delta and there has been a dry spell that has made the river more accessible than normal for this time of year. We crossed the river with a local boat and set out a 15km walk along the northern part of the Selous Game Reserve. We crossed through dried up rivers, passed by several large pools of water, and trekked through extensive grasslands. 

The area was dotted with palms and some coastal forest trees, the quintessential Selous landscape. We unfortunately got a very late start and thus the sun was hot and most animals were tucked away in the shade. We did manage to see a really impressive group of Marabou and Yellow-billed Storks, a group of a few hundred absolutely ravaging a small pool where a the helpless fish were literal fishes in a barrel. 

I was told that the area we walked would likely be underwater in a month. I will be thrilled to come back...but in a boat!

Pool of water

Nice grassland

Iringa Airport renovations

The airport in Iringa is not the most bustling airport and I wrote about previous much smaller renovations. When we first moved here, there was one 12-passenger plane servicing the city three times a week. In 2016, the former president resurrected the national carrier, Air Tanzania, and in 2019, a Bombardier Q400 began flying a few times a week at drastically lower prices than the smaller plane. This joy was shortlived. I had one successful flight to Dar es Salaam, and then rumors began to swirl about under capacity, politicians demanding planes for transport, and all sorts of other issues. In July 2019, I booked a flight that was rescheduled several times until it became apparent in December that services were being suspended indefinitely (I was never issued a refund). They were kind of bailed out by COVID-19, but they were in trouble long before the pandemic.

I’ve heard several different stories about why the Iringa airport needed a renovation, but the most frequently cited reason is that the runway needed to be expanded to receive larger planes. It’s a shame that they recently refurbished the airport buildings (within the last five years), only to build a totally new structure that is nearly the same size—just in an entirely new area on the opposite end of the property.

For aviation nerds:

Covering 353.44 hectares and located 18 kilometres northeast of Iringa town, the airport features a 2,100-metre-long, 30-metre-wide runway, a 155-metre taxiway, and a 180m x 126m aircraft parking apron. It can accommodate two large Bombardier Dash-8 Q400 aircraft and five smaller Caravan aircraft. The passenger terminal can handle 100 departing and 100 arriving passengers simultaneously, with a VIP lounge for up to 18 passengers.

The new runway is really nice, but I still don’t understand why they didn’t use the previously constructed infrastructure. They didn’t increase the capacity of arrivals or departures in any significant way. I’ve got an Air Tanzania flight booked next week, so let’s see how everything goes!

 

Ruaha in February

Ruaha River

 

We took a rare rainy season trip to Ruaha knowing that seeing large carnivores would be difficult but we also knew that it'd be a great time of year for birdwatching. Birds are on the move both to the northern hemisphere and inter-African migrants and we thought it'd be a fun weekend to go out and do some birdwatching. 

Most of the lodges close in March so we knew there would be very few other cars in the park. We only saw two other cars over the entire weekend and enjoyed the majority of our time out to ourselves. We weren't sure how the roads would be but there has been enough of a dry spell that most of the Mwagusi was still accessible though the tall grasses made for some careful maneuvering.  

We saw around 100 species of birds, which is a great day for Ruaha, and another highlight was a group of three Lesser Kudus. We were surprised to see sightings of plains game in great numbers as well as some fun elephant sightings as well. 

The park in the rainy season is a totally different experience but the overcast clouds lend to cooler temperatures and the solitude is a hallmark of the Ruaha experience. Tapering expectations for large animal viewing is important but if you come with the right mindset, Ruaha in February can be amazing!

Giraffes enjoying the grass

Stunning kopjes

The waterhole in February

 

I've written about the water hole before and it's always a fun place to visit in the morning. In the rainy season there are typically a variety of waterbirds and today was no different with a large group of Knob-billed Ducks and a few Little Grebes. We didn't see much in the way of large mammals and not even very many prints but that's not unusual this time of year when water is available everywhere.