Locked in a gift shop, freed by Tanzania’s magic

In parts 1-4 of this journey, I traced my path from Bluffton, South Carolina, through Savannah, Philadelphia, Dar es Salaam, and finally to Doha—Qatar’s dazzling capital.

On Day 5, the adventure carried us into the heart of Arusha, Tanzania.

After breakfast, we checked out of the Kibo Palace Hotel and made our way to the Arusha Cultural Heritage Center. As we approached, a local band greeted us with hypnotic rhythms—an enchanting introduction to the soul of Tanzanian culture. Inside, the center unfolded like a treasure trove, with sculptures, paintings, textiles, and traditional crafts filling every corner. One gallery was devoted entirely to Maasai art, showcasing the vibrant clothing, intricate beadwork, and ceremonial artifacts of one of Tanzania’s most iconic ethnic groups.

But it was the modern Tanzanian art exhibit that truly captivated me. I found myself oohing and aahing in delight at each piece—bold, expressive, and utterly original.

At one point, I wandered off from the group and slipped into a small gift shop tucked away behind the galleries. I was the only customer, browsing quietly behind a large display rack, when the shopkeeper—unaware of my presence—stepped out and locked the door behind her. Panic!

With our jeep departure looming, I realized I was trapped. What felt like thirty hours (but was probably closer to thirty minutes) passed before someone spotted me frantically waving through the glass windows by the door. Thankfully, they alerted someone who came to my rescue just in time. I rejoined the group, slightly flustered but very relieved.

Our next stop was the Shanga Foundation workshop—a place where creativity meets purpose. Here, Tanzanians with disabilities are empowered to transform everyday recyclables into stunning works of art. We watched skilled glassblowers breathe new life into discarded bottles, shaping them into elegant pieces right before our eyes.

Then came the hands-on part. Each of us paired with an artisan to craft our own beaded necklaces, followed by a session at another table where we made paper bags—not the flimsy kind, but sturdy, stylish ones with flat bottoms and strong handles, fashioned from old Chinese newspapers. Yes, China’s footprint in Tanzania is quite visible. I’d read beforehand that single-use plastic bags were banned across East Africa—a forward-thinking move to protect wildlife, ease waste management, and reduce the toxic effects of plastic burning.

We learned that Shanga was founded in 2007 and now employs dozens of talented individuals who might otherwise struggle to find work. Their craftsmanship—jewelry, metalwork, glassware—is exquisite. Their patience? Even more so. I fumbled through the steps, laughing at myself while being guided with grace and good humor.

I left with a treasure: the “Amal necklace,” a piece originally designed for Amal Clooney. It’s now one of my most cherished keepsakes.

From there, we traveled to Tarangire Simba Lodge, where each room bore an African name. Mine was “Simba”—Swahili for lion, a word that evokes strength and majesty (and yes, a nod to The Lion King).

Throughout my month in East Africa, I picked up not only Swahili words and phrases but also some words from the Meru dialect, spoken by Witress Emmanual, the owner of Namaste Safari, the Luo language spoken by our jeep driver Sande Willis—and famously, by President Obama’s father, and the mesmerizing click sounds of the Hadza language, spoken by the Hadzabe tribe. It’s a language that defies description and delights the ear.

Our final destination was back at the Tarangire Simba Lodge, where, after dinner, we sat on a high deck, enjoying liquid libations while watching elephants.

So much to learn and so many things to see.

I fell hopelessly in love with Tanzania.

Tamela is a proofreader and book editor; she hosts paint parties for adults, art and drama camp for kids, and is the art teacher at May River Montessori. www.tamelamaxim.com www.artposseproductions.com