Kilimanjaro Road Rally

A road rally.  Cindy.  These two things don’t normally go together and most of the readers of this blog, would not have matched them up.  But why not I retort!  I was admittedly uncertain about what I was getting into, but responding to the reassurance of my friend, I agreed.  Alpha, a car and rally fan, provided commentary throughout the day so not only was it fun, it was educational. 

Unlike race track racing, a road rally involves real roads and a route.  The Kilimanjaro Road Rally is 500 kilometers of rocky roads mostly south and west of the mountain.    Drivers negotiate rough roads, rivers, and cows wandering onto the road.   Each car has a driver and a navigator.  No fancy GPS units in these cars, simply a map and directions.

The cars.  I am not sure what I expected for the cars, but there was a crazy and impressive mix of supped up cars.  None of them were particularly fancy, but each one was unique; everything from a Porsche to Land Rovers to trucks.  Some had sponsors, other were fueled privately.  Each car had a pit crew that followed their car taking shortcuts to meet, cheer and fix their car throughout the race route.   Fix is the operative word here.  To my uninformed eyes, tires seemed to be the most common impairment and more than one car passed us limping along on nothing but the tire rim.  The Porsche, an unlikely race car for rocky Tanzania roads did surprisingly well, but eventually surrendered of a broken clutch, driving in only one gear. 

 

 

The crowd.  Predictably the race spectators were mostly men with only a sprinkling of women.  There were very few wazungu (white people) and a significant number of Indian Tanzanians.  There were many curious villagers, children herding cattle and middle aged business men.  Predominately the crowd was young Tanzanian men who authoritatively discussed the cars, laughing, cheering and speculating as the cars passed.   Always at a distance, clusters of young Maasai men, wrapped in their red shuka (cloth wrap) and leaning on their sticks, watched and joked with each other as young men do.  

 

What is it about cars that hold the rapture of men?  Watching these young men gather around a car as it stopped for maintenance, was as much fun as watching the cars themselves.    Indeed watching the race was only a small part of the experience.  The boisterous banter among young men, the timid gaze of Maasai women and the curious stare of young children wondering about this mzungu woman were just as fascinating as the cars for this road rally novice.

I am not sure I will ever be a road rally junkie, but I am very glad I went and I would go again.  And like any race, be it a foot or car race I think it is probably a lot more fun to be a participant.  So… next time I want to be a navigator or part of the pit crew.  I could do that!   Life is short, why not try new things?  Don’t worry; I won’t give up my job as a professor.  I’m just saying… that if anyone is looking for a navigator, I know how to read maps!