The Heat of Dar

How do people survive in this heat? This humidity is some next level shit. Nearly tangibly heavy air, that without fail results in awkward sweat stains, glossy foreheads and pissed people. And by pissed people I mean my mom. 

 “You were home all the damn day and you seriously couldn’t do the dishes. I work all day long while you and your father sit around. It’s like I am a slave in this house…” And so it begins. The impassioned speeches over hopelessly mundane chores. Funny thing is, she is the one who always says, “I don’t like to boil my cabbages twice” and yet here we are. Her repeating the exact same words for exact same grievance. Ironic right? She kept going while I tried my best to look attentive. She hated it when we looked like we were not taking her seriously enough in these situations. I let her have her moment. Not that I could do anything to avoid it. If it wasn’t the dishes it would be something else. When she finally exhausts herself and stalks off to her room, my dad and I visibly relax, the air somehow less sticky.

 Since moving to Dar es Salaam, a month ago, it’s been nothing but constant tension. With mom out all day, working for her international NGO and dad at home, supposedly writing his book they are in closer proximity than they usually would be. For the most part mom’s job keeps her travelling but now she wants us all together, for my sake. Final 2 years of high school are apparently high stakes or whatever. So here we are ﹣playing happy family. 

That said, even when they were around each other it was not this bad. It’s as if something in the air has caused everything to spiral. I blame the heat. Though Tanzanians don’t seem even mildly affected by it. Which makes me remember that Venni, one of my Tanzanian classmates had invited a bunch of us to hang out on the beach. I hadn’t been interested earlier, but that was then and this is now. I grab my phone from my back pocket and walk into the sitting room just as my dad makes his way out the front door. Probably off on another one of his cool off walks. 

Still, doing the beach? I text Venni. His reply is quick﹣ a brown thumbs-up emoji. 

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The waves lapping the shores of Coco Beach look so inviting. Finally a chance to escape this ludicrous heat. It is about to be my first time getting into the water since arriving and know I wonder why it has taken me so long. 

Venni tosses his shirt onto the sand before rushing into the waves. Once he is deep enough he extends his arms and does a little baby dive into the green-blue waters. He emerges head shaking side to side, vigorously, as if he’s got hair, instead of his actual bald, glossy head. No one else came today from the people he invited. He tells me the others bailed at the last minute.

“Come on! The water is great!” he shouts a wide smile spreading across his face, deepening a dimple on his left cheek. I smile back and do a little jog into the water. I slow down once it covers my knees. It is warm. I feel my smile vanish just as quickly as it came. You have got to be kidding me. This ocean water is bathtub warm. Gross. I had not expected the Indian Ocean would be any different than the Atlantic. Boy was I wrong. I force my legs to keep walking deeper, hoping it will get cooler. No such luck.

“Nice right? “ Venni says swimming up to me before splashing me. I don’t see it coming till the warm, vinegary water stings my eyes and blinds me for a second.

 “Yeah, real nice,” I respond under my breath once the salty haze fades and I can make out his left dimple again. 

After some pretending to enjoy the water I make my way out. The dry white sand sticks to my feet once out and I curse under my breath for not having remembered beach slippers. I flop onto my laid out a towel and stare back at the water. 

Now that I realize, the air outside is not so vicious in its assault. It is not exactly cool but the warm ocean water seems to have helped. My skin is cooler than before. It is actually somewhat refreshing. The longer I sit the nicer it feels. Guess that’s how people survive this heat. They’re willing to get into the warm waters of Coco Beach, bearing the heat in hopes that once out it will be all worth it. And I guess that is how I am going to survive this Dar heat as well.

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Author: Hannah Brendell

Hannah Brendell is a UWC graduate from Windhoek, Namibia. She is currently pursing a major in International Relations and Economic Development at Agnes Scott College, in Atlanta Georgia. She aspires to be a leader of positive change in her home country and across the African continent.

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