Waking Up in Dar es Salaam
The air when we landed in Dar was hot and humid and smelled like open fires – the kind of smell you might kind of like on a cold autumn night if it wafted by for a moment but seems relentless and oppressive here. Body odors hang in the air in any place where people congregate – but that has to be from the heat (and this is the coolest month of the year). And of course there’s nothing like the smell of a packed airplane at the end of a 20 hour journey. So except for the wind that swept in when the doors opened in Arusha, I’ve been longing for pure sea air.
The room was a bit of a shock for $100 a night. Not even a set of drawers for unpacking your clothes. What makes mine an executive single is the big desk which is the only space for anything, so it is piled with my toiletries, jewelry, notebooks, buddhist prayer beads, sutra book, omomori gohonzon, and all my gadgets. My love of gadgets is embarrassing in a place where two electrical outlets makes an executive room.
I slept off and on and woke up with a start at about 4 am local time, completely confused about where I was. Very strange to be in a new place without a network (yet). I got up and went online but then finally crashed properly and woke up when the alarm went off on my cell phone. (No clock or radio in the room. But there is a fridge and an old Hitachi TV set on an articulating mount – like a hospital TV. But I couldn’t figure out how to get a picture on it anyway and I needed to unplug the fridge to charge up my Kindle.
My phone doesn’t work here – even after all that running around to convert to an international business account. Worked fine in Amsterdam but I couldn’t text or call once I landed in Africa. Never had that problem with my blackberry – not in Kenya or in South Africa. So I can’t imagine what’s going on here unless it was a very unwise switch to AT&T and the iPhone.
Because I was unsuccessful calling KPMG – even when I dialed on the hotel landline (although it might have been that Michael was just unavailable then) – I decided to go over there, figuring I could always work someplace until Michael was free. I asked the hotel where the business area was and they pointed me in the right direction but said it was a long walk. I didn’t mind – I was keen to get out and see something. Not that the walk took me through anything interesting at all. It was a long walk down a hot, dustry busy street. The buildings on each side were behind big walls and fences. Most of the buildings seemed to belong to either development organizations or churches. And I walked a long time (especially given that I was wearing high heels and a nice dress). Finally I came to a business-like area: there was a Citibank office and a DHL location. I walked into Citibank, partly to see if they had ATM machines there. No, it’s just investment banking. But they were very nice about giving me directions to KPMG. KPMG is in a smart, modern-looking office building – the PPF Tower. The hardest thing about my walk there was crossing the street: there aren’t any traffic lights – none; not at any of the corners, so you have to just venture out when the traffic seems slowest, which at that corner is not very slow at all. In getting there I had already crossed busy streets a few times, usually by waiting for someone else to venture into the traffic and jumping in after them.
I took the elevator up to the 11th floor of the PPF Tower (kumi na moja!). A receptionist showed me into a conference room with a gorgeous view of the Indian Ocean. She asked if I wanted anything to drink and I jumped at the mention of coffee because the coffee in the hotel had been almost undrinkable. I think I’ll be switching to tea soon. Then Michael came in. I didn’t realize he was white and I expected he’d be older. He’s a nice, soft-spoken man who reminds me a little of Derek Watson, actually. So we had a talk about the project and I told him what Jeff had said – that no one wants me here except Jeff and that I would be walking a tightrope. I asked about his concerns and he shared with me his experience thus far – which was that he had heard a bit of buzz about the project months ago, then nothing, then what sounded like no clear direction and a lack of understanding about how I fit in. Apparently, when he asked Tim Stiles about me, the answer was that Tim didn’t really know how or why I was involved.
But enough about me. He told me a lot I didn’t know about what KPMG does here beyond the typical audit, tax and advisory work. They offer a service, similar to what Grants Plus does for NFPs in the US: they control the funds – they handle all the money, ensure that it goes where it’s supposed to go – for example, restricted donations are spent as they were meant to be spent and money is not siphoned off or wasted; they do all the accounting and auditing and will even go so far as to put an NGO’s staff on the KPMG payroll to provide benefits – all for a negotiated fee. It’s very much like the kind of service Exchange4Good will want to get. So that made complete sense to me. Also, Michael began his career working in development in Brisbaine – so he comes to KPMG with a very different perspective than that of an accountant. I think he like most of the people at KPMG is still very keen on making sure that all the money is used effectively (as are most donors). But unlike most donor organizations, KPMG has the skillset to make sure that happens. And frankly, that’s great. Because it means there will be more documentary proof. From what I’ve seen of EI and Millennium Promise, the leaders are extremely careful with other people’s money.
At lunch with Michael and Kanini I found out that Michael is a runner – and regularly races half marathons. Unfortunately, I just missed one here. Kanini is really sharp. She’s a manager in the tax practice, whom KPMG recruited away from Deloitte. It will be wonderful if she makes partner – there are only three partners in KPMG Tanzania, and two of the three are Kenyans.
Now the electric outlets have just stopped working in my hotel room. It’s almost 8 pm and I’ve been puttering, trying to figure out my phone problems and calling Dad on Skype. But now I should find food and go to bed early so I can go running tomorrow. I want to do 14 miles but that will take a bit of planning – especially in terms of bathrooms. At least I know how to say choo – toilet. And chumba cha bafu – bathroom.
