So now that we're some what less jet-lagged and are adjusting to living in either a bunk (Roxy) or a tent (me), we finally got to venture a bit more around Moshi. Also, while many of our hostel-mates have recently left for home, we have a new addition from the US and a Brit who was traveling has returned as well. Its nice to have some more friendly faces and a new conversation.
Yesterday was the mass shopping day, in which Rose, Roxy and I joined near-local Valentina to scour the local shops. Shopping here is completely difficult for a few reasons. One: Tanzanian Shillings (Tsh) convert to USD in a most inconvenient way, 1600:1. Try and work that one out on the spot while purchasing somthing for 18,000 Tsh. Right. Two: most shops don't have listed prices, so you never know if you are getting the actual price of an item or a wildly inflated one because you are white. Three: if you are feeling like you are getting ripped off, most of the time you can bargain, but occasionally the attempt to bargain insults the store owner, and if you're like me you get lectured and asked to leave. Not ideal for purchasing. As we flailed through the first few stores, having minimal success, we realized we needed backup, so we phoned hostel manager and awesome person Mary, who showed us all of the best places to buy and let us know if the prices were good. The particular victory in this was my fabric shopping, as the quality can vary widely as can the price. With Mary's help I have many yards of gorgeous wax fabric (so called because wax is used in the dying process, thanks Mom).
Walking around town is a bit like mountain climbing as the sidewalks are so ridiculous. Most are just rubble, but in the nicer parts of town stretches are paved. Mostly you just sort of walk on the side of the road if the sidewalk is too bad, which is a bit scary because the cars are coming from the opposite direction you are expecting them to. Also most cars are dala dalas, which are sort of the most janky type of taxi ever. Men are always leaning out the side trying to get you to ride in their dala dala, and people do, although I've heard you often have to share your leg space with various livestock. I'm constantly grateful we can walk to the Majengo clinic. Our neighborhood is a bit outside of town and the tree-lined streets are very peaceful. In the middle of town are two main roads that are lined with vendors and random men trying to convince you to buy something or come to their shop. They are extremely persistent, but can also get offended if you tell them Hapana, sana (seriously dude, no). The best I have found is either to ignore them, or use them as an opportunity to practice your Swahili. If all else fails hop in a store and they move on to harass some other unsuspecting mzungu (white person).
Today we tried to sleep in, but lucky me, I got splattered by the acid of a Nairobi fly and have a massive itchy red mark on my arm. Thought it was a bug bite gone wrong at first and was in a benadryl coma for awhile, but once we figured out what the heck it was I was informed toothpaste is helpful. I suppose it helps neutralize the acid. Here's hoping it looks better tomorrow.
We ate lunch at a place called Kilimanjaro Cafe which was quite good, but like everywhere amazingly slow. We are quickly learning to leave for lunch about an hour before we are going to be hungry or else we just sit and starve for awhile. Everyone has been guzzling milkshakes, which I find a bit odd, but after the smoothie incident at DFW in December I'm still avoiding any sort of blended beverage.
The rest of the afternoon and evening I think will be chilling around the hostel, eating dinner and maybe reading a book. I just finished the Hunger Games series this morning, and am in need of something a bit less stressful. Suggestions are welcome.
Tomorrow we start in the labor and delivery ward at the clinic, so more news then. Later. M.