Friday, June 29, 2007
Arusha Moments
Lunch at Stiggy Bucks…I’m not sure what they mean by buck and what the hell does a Stiggy Buck look like. Anyhow this is a nice little coffee bar / restaurant with a menu of small delights. The best I have had is the Avocado salad. This is an avocado, cut in half and stuffed with diced tomato and onion in a superb vinaigrette served on a bed of shredded lettuce. Now in Canada this would be common fare, but here the avocados are twice the size as at home and after three months of plain, small town Tanzania food, this was amazing. Nicole had a BLT and after having only T for three months the crisp bacon and lettuce are a very, very, very welcome taste and texture!
Ok on to the moment. We were sitting in Stiggy Bucks having our milkshake (oh ya these were amazing as well) a very slick guy with captain’s strips on his khaki shirt and short safari shorts sat down at the next table with a latte or some other coffee drink. He soon was on his cell phone speaking loudly, “this is Humphrey blah blah blah calling, did the mail bag get on the plane?” “No, no!! are you joking?” It was obvious that this was a huge issue and he carried on with this confused anxiousness for a while and then went directly into irate British mode. He yelled at a number of different people trying to get the all important mailbag from Kilimanjaro to Arusha. There were cheques in the bag after all so it had to get to Arusha right away. It was so amusing that we just sat there listening to his struggle with the locals while he sweated in his little captain’s shirt. I wondered why, with all of his apparent authority, he didn’t simply jump in a plane and fly it here himself.
Moment two.
The night we arrived at the Outpost I needed to grab a couple more towels so we would each have one in the morning. I went up to the bar, the only place where a hotel employee was at this time of night. There were a couple of rude Americans from Las Vegas tying one on sitting at the bar. I assume they were irritating the friendly waiter/bartender. I exchanged hellos with them and when we were done a woman approached and said to the employee, “my girls walked in the bathroom with their shoes on and the floor is very dirty now.” Long pause…this got a really blank stare from the employee.
“Could I have something to wipe it up with?” she continued.
Another blank stare…
“I would do it myself, all I need is a towel or something.”
“It’s a big room isn’t it?” the employee asked still with a blank stare and a sweeping gesture.
“uh, yes?” the woman replied.
“Well, the bathroom is separate isn’t it” he said.
“I don’t know where your going with this but yes it is.” Came the confused response.
“There’s a door isn’t there that you can close?” he asked just as confused as she was.
“Yes, but I would be willing to clean it up myself.”
“But if you close the door…what’s the problem?” he said with the gesture of closing the door.
“umm ahh??? I’d wipe it up…I mean me, I would do it myself.” She said dumbfounded.
“Can you live with it till the morning?”
“I suppose I could.” She said with an even more confused look.
“Ok that’s fine then because the laundry doesn’t open until the morning.”
“Uh, umm, uhh…OK…Thanks.” She said and turned and left.
I asked for my towels and as the employee smiled and went to get them, the Las Vegasians said, “don’t you have a knife? You could just cut one it three pieces, where’s the problem?”
Moment three.
I had to go to a cell phone shop to get phones for Jeremiah, Emma Stella’s Husband and one for Nicole. Frances and Tore recommended a little shop on a side street and we found it with no problem, the nearest landmark was the Meat King store a couple of doors down so we had no trouble. The store is run by an ex-pat from India who seemed friendly but very direct. There were about 8 people at the counter of the small shop, all pointing at phones in the display case and asking prices etc. I walked up to the assistant, a quiet local guy who seemed very bored. As soon as I said I needed three phones the boss came right over. As he did the others in the store called me what I thought was, ”sungu sungu” (ant) which is very close to Mzungu (white person). So I said to the shop keeper, “did they just call me an ant.” He chuckled for a second, and said, “no, no, These are Masaai and you will never find a more loyal, respectful or kind people anywhere in the world, but they are not very good with the words.” I found this backhanded comment to be rather disrespectful.
I found out later that they had been calling my white person but got the word wrong and when they said, ”zungu zungu” they were calling me “dizzy.” Hmm, perhaps they are good with the words and noticed that my head was spinning a bit from all the shopping we had done.
Ok on to the moment. We were sitting in Stiggy Bucks having our milkshake (oh ya these were amazing as well) a very slick guy with captain’s strips on his khaki shirt and short safari shorts sat down at the next table with a latte or some other coffee drink. He soon was on his cell phone speaking loudly, “this is Humphrey blah blah blah calling, did the mail bag get on the plane?” “No, no!! are you joking?” It was obvious that this was a huge issue and he carried on with this confused anxiousness for a while and then went directly into irate British mode. He yelled at a number of different people trying to get the all important mailbag from Kilimanjaro to Arusha. There were cheques in the bag after all so it had to get to Arusha right away. It was so amusing that we just sat there listening to his struggle with the locals while he sweated in his little captain’s shirt. I wondered why, with all of his apparent authority, he didn’t simply jump in a plane and fly it here himself.
Moment two.
The night we arrived at the Outpost I needed to grab a couple more towels so we would each have one in the morning. I went up to the bar, the only place where a hotel employee was at this time of night. There were a couple of rude Americans from Las Vegas tying one on sitting at the bar. I assume they were irritating the friendly waiter/bartender. I exchanged hellos with them and when we were done a woman approached and said to the employee, “my girls walked in the bathroom with their shoes on and the floor is very dirty now.” Long pause…this got a really blank stare from the employee.
“Could I have something to wipe it up with?” she continued.
Another blank stare…
“I would do it myself, all I need is a towel or something.”
“It’s a big room isn’t it?” the employee asked still with a blank stare and a sweeping gesture.
“uh, yes?” the woman replied.
“Well, the bathroom is separate isn’t it” he said.
“I don’t know where your going with this but yes it is.” Came the confused response.
“There’s a door isn’t there that you can close?” he asked just as confused as she was.
“Yes, but I would be willing to clean it up myself.”
“But if you close the door…what’s the problem?” he said with the gesture of closing the door.
“umm ahh??? I’d wipe it up…I mean me, I would do it myself.” She said dumbfounded.
“Can you live with it till the morning?”
“I suppose I could.” She said with an even more confused look.
“Ok that’s fine then because the laundry doesn’t open until the morning.”
“Uh, umm, uhh…OK…Thanks.” She said and turned and left.
I asked for my towels and as the employee smiled and went to get them, the Las Vegasians said, “don’t you have a knife? You could just cut one it three pieces, where’s the problem?”
Moment three.
I had to go to a cell phone shop to get phones for Jeremiah, Emma Stella’s Husband and one for Nicole. Frances and Tore recommended a little shop on a side street and we found it with no problem, the nearest landmark was the Meat King store a couple of doors down so we had no trouble. The store is run by an ex-pat from India who seemed friendly but very direct. There were about 8 people at the counter of the small shop, all pointing at phones in the display case and asking prices etc. I walked up to the assistant, a quiet local guy who seemed very bored. As soon as I said I needed three phones the boss came right over. As he did the others in the store called me what I thought was, ”sungu sungu” (ant) which is very close to Mzungu (white person). So I said to the shop keeper, “did they just call me an ant.” He chuckled for a second, and said, “no, no, These are Masaai and you will never find a more loyal, respectful or kind people anywhere in the world, but they are not very good with the words.” I found this backhanded comment to be rather disrespectful.
I found out later that they had been calling my white person but got the word wrong and when they said, ”zungu zungu” they were calling me “dizzy.” Hmm, perhaps they are good with the words and noticed that my head was spinning a bit from all the shopping we had done.
