that part of your brain

I am intrigued by that part of your brain used for not-first languages. I've spent months looking for Swahili words only to have French come upon me unbidden. Now I'm in Paris and spouting Swahili. Shingapi? is shilling gapi? is how many shillings? but what I'm looking for is, of course, combien?

snowy paris

Habari,

We took a solid 24 hours to get to Paris. Sweet Christmas-time travel. We flew through Istanbul with Turkish Airlines. They won an award last year for best flight food and omfg did they ever deserve it. I was dancing in my chair. On the first leg (Dar to Entebbe) we were served curried chicken (and a side of smoked salmon). From Entebbe to Istanbul we were offered another meal but I declined as we had only eaten an hour and a half earlier. When we got to Istanbul (where we had originally planned on spending our entire break and then shortened that to three days to work in a visit to Paris to see CC & B), our two hour layover was turned to three and a half with a canceled flight (we tried to convince them to send us to London but that was not possible). That flight to Paris was then delayed three more hours and then we sat for an hour and half on the tarmac for some slight, real or imagined, perceived by flight control. And then we were off and arrived in Paris 24 hours after we started our hot, sweaty journey. It was cold and snowy (apparently a weekend of snow storms in Europe had played havoc with flights in an out, and I appreciate that, I'm only updating, not complaining. Our Finnish friend's (JK) girlfriend was flying to meet him in Dar but got sidelined in Schipol Airport in Amsterdam for 36 hours without a hotel room).

We are in Paris. I'm very excited. We are kind of chilled right now as we have only hoodies and spring jackets. We have successfully manipulated this situation such that shopping has become a have-to-have instead of a nice-to-have. We will be getting some champagne baridi (froid) too (when josey was here in June before meeting me, she went to a champagne shop and asked for the champagne we sometimes have at home ("our" champagne). The shopkeeper said, "why would you get that, you can get that in supermarkets". The bottle he sold was *very* good. He also was an outrageous flirt but I'll let josey tell that story). That is all, we've got to find a cafe soon.

Joyeux Noelle!

mzungus

Arrived back in time for a surprise birthday party for our friend RK on Thursday. It was downtown at the city centre. The only other time I've been there was the day of the soccer game (oh, and by the way, these mzungus (actually, plural of mzungu is wazungu) got huge street cred in Zanzibar when we let people know we were at that game). We spent the better part of forever looking for the Indian Badminton Club in our taxi. There was a lot of defeated shoulder slumping by our cab driver and a lot of pole sana-ing ("very sorry") on our side. At moments like this when we are most clueless (out of our element, if you want to be generous), I sometimes wonder if the locals think, how the hell did these mzungus colonize us, we could have walked into their place and took it over. Another time I felt this way was at the soccer game when we showed up, got out of our taxi and were taken care of by people (out of the goodness of their hearts and not for recompense in this life) and we would have been completely helpless without cultural interpreters and connectors.

The Badminton Club cost 1000 Tsh to enter and had a large central area for eating and banquets and such and a giant tv showing cricket. You know what, I thought it was exactly what the Legion would be like in the sub-continent (never actually saw the badminton courts). The food was inexpensive and delicious. I had the Lamb Masala. The beers were cheaper than the grocery store. RK was not that surprised to find himself in the middle of a birthday party as he had kept running in to people all day that were supposed to be "out of town". But he hadn't expected myself and KO (my Newfoundland friend who is RK's roommate) to be there. We had carefully concocted a series of txt msgs outlining how our Zanzibar trip got extended as KO got pulled to the north coast by a gaggle of American girls (we wanted to say Swedish but it was stretching the bounds of believe as it was). Josey was in on this, lest you wonder how I think I can get away with KO as the main actor in this story. Anyway. lol wtf spring break! We made the party.

KO and I gave RK a shirt for his birthday. It says MZUNGU* on the front. All three of us love this word (and shirt). It so perfectly encapsulates the wandering, clueless, at times obnoxious and arrogant, definitely sweaty, hopefully still pink and not beet red, western tourist. KO's (and whole heartedly supported by RK and me) brainchild is to start a website like Look at This Fucking Hipster called Look at the Fucking Mzungu.We think it will go viral and world-wide. Look around, Mzungus are everywhere. Don't be one.

* it's not that bad. The Masai word for foreigner literally means, 'those that constrain their farts' because they wear pants and the locals wear kikoyes. I will write about my perfectly lovely kikoye that is coming home with me.

dog chases monkey

We were sitting in the treehouse at this inn on Zanzibar when we heard the pitter patter of little feet running up the stairs. Then a monkey launched himself into a tree as a dog hit the top of the stairs. It may have been the several Tusker baridis that I had but I thought this was pretty great.

Our three day layover in Istanbul is off. The terrorists have won (frankly, it doesn't feel like they have won and I'm not really afraid but we're still not hanging out in all the tourist spots right now).

conversations in Zanzibar

1. pilot, just prior to circling the runway three times before landing: We have to circle the runway, there's dogs on the runway, as usual, in Zanzibar. 
2. dude: You live with your girlfriend in Dar es Salaam? ... I am a Muslim and it is not allowed to live with someone unless you are married. I have a girlfriend but I don't really know why. We think about having sex but that is a sin and when I die I will to go to paradise* <followed by fist bump proffered by me and received by him and then we laughed a lot>.

* to various moms and nieces (if you read this), this man has made gigantic assumptions about sex and sinning. I'm just saying.

honking vuvuzelas

We went to the finals of the Tusker Cup yesterday. The Tusker Cup is held every year to determine the best team in East Africa (and two other teams from Africa are invited to round out the field). The 3-4 game involved Uganda and Ethiopia. The 1-2 game involved Cote d'Ivoire (an invite team that qualified for the World Cup this year) and the home squad, Tanzania.

The game was played at National Stadium. It seats 60,000 people and was built by the Chinese as a favour for other concessions in the country (I don't know what the concessions were but I'm sure it was an open, transparent, rule-of-law type thing that benefits everyone, right? right??). We (a group that did not include Josey) took a taxi downtown and got out across the street from the stadium. People were running and queueing, looking for tickets. There was not a ticket booth per se. We were adopted by a couple of locals and they tried to sort us out. We eventually got some VIP tickets which meant that we would have great seats and be in the shade. The average ticket was 1,000 Tsh (66 cents). We finally got some tickets that were originally 4k but we got them for 6k.

The entire time we were there, we were the only white people that I saw. We were a bit of a novelty. We arrived in time for the second half of the 3-4 game. That game ended 4-3 for Uganda and was very exciting. At that point the two women with us left and eventually returned with beer. Now, the tournament was sponsored by Tusker (a brewery) but the stadium was dry. So the girls gave 10,000 Tsh to a guy to smuggle 5 cans of beer through security. Once through security, they were approached by a police officer who saw the tail end of this transaction (ie. a man pulling cans of beer out of his pockets and socks). The beer smuggler had to end up sharing half of his 5,000 Tsh profit from the transaction with the officer. So, we had beer.

Tanzania were the underdogs but got a penalty kick in the first half for a hand ball in the box. They scored on that and managed to shut down the d'Ivoirians the rest of the way. It was great to be in the stadium (Tanzania has not won this tournament since 1994). This was my first live match and it was great. I actually would have preferred to have been a little higher so I could see the play unfold a little more easily.

That is all. I (Josey has to work) am flying to Zanzibar (the price to fly for 20 minutes is almost the same as that for a 3 hour ferry ride) for a few days today. We fly to Istanbul on Saturday, where we will spend three days before flying to Paris for eleven (!) days. Still doesn't seem like Christmas with this weather but the calendar assures me that I better get some shopping done soon.

a day in the life

What I found odd about the following things is that they weren't that odd to me anymore.

1. Night spent with no power. Sweat lodge. Tanesco has been rationing power because of shortages. We have a generator but we don't run it at night. It may have been the hottest I have ever been in my entire life (yes, I know and appreciate that many millions of locals have no access to electricity and certainly no a/c or fans). 
2. I was taking a taxi to Swahili class when we got pulled over by a cop. He jumped in to the taxi. I'd heard of this and extortion can often ensue. He just wanted a lift up the road. He did not pay for this (duh). 
3. We got a flat tire. For my second time here in a taxi (actually, same road too). 
4. Once at Coco Beach for my lesson, a loud bang drew my attention to the ocean, as I saw a large plume of water from the dynamite fishing. Literally dynamite. Fucking hell, man.
5. In a conversation between a local and my teacher the topic of sex came up. The teacher said it was important to use condoms because AIDS is so prevalent. The reply was, "you can't lick a candy with the paper on". Sigh...
6. We went to a rap concert. There was cold beer and not very many white people. It was very fun. 
7. A friend of mine almost had their phone snatched out of their hand. It fell to the ground and the kid ran away. There was power when I got home. Victory.

what's my name?

When I go to the Golden Tulip to enjoy the height (depth?) of decadence, I pay 15,000 Tsh and get an invoice to give to the guy at the pool. You get a towel, shade, swimming in the pool by the ocean, and some service (ninaomba maji kubwa na kili baridi moja - could i please have a water large and a kilimanjaro cold one).

My invoice has had my name listed the following two ways:

1. Mr. God
2. Golden

Both have caused the women behind the counter to tell me it is a very nice name. Outside of Canada, nobody really is ever called Gord. Especially in places with alphabets without 'r's.

Also, we are halfway done our trip.

the short happy life

I've just read Hemmingway's short story, The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber. It's a story about a man who goes hunting but runs away in fear from a lion. It has inspired me to relay stories I've heard about simba.

Man-eaters

"All that is found when a ranger is taken by a lion is his boots and broken beer bottles." There are terrible stories of people being taken by man-eating lions. However, most of the time when someone is taken, it is the town drunk.

"Whatever you do, don't run." 

J has a former hunting partner that he has vowed never to hunt with again (J doesn't hunt anymore either ...). They were on a hunting trip that had already gone fairly badly when they happened across a lion about 100 yards away. The lion moseyed away from them and J therefore didn't end up shooting it. He watched this happen through the scope of the rifle and when he spoke to his partner there was no answer. He looked around for him and he was about 100 yards away in the other direction still running. This endangered both of them and J was furious.

Camping 

When you are camping, do this:

• do up the fly of your tent. Really. This makes a difference. A lion will go through an open fly but not a closed one. And men used to get pulled from tents when the British army had those tents with a 6" gap between the tent and the ground. 
• if you need to leave your tent to go to the bathroom, you will be safe(r?) if you can open your tent and look around and really focus for two minutes. If you can't do that, you probably don't have the wherewithal to determine if you are prey or not. 

story: Our friend moved to Africa from Ireland. His family was skeptical of all this but his brother was willing to make an effort. He came, they went on safari, the first night he was alone in his tent when a lion let out a full-throated roar beside his tent. He lived but they left the sleeping bag behind.

story: A few years ago J was asked to shoot a lion that was cruising around the beach of a resort up the coast. He said he did not want to but he would be the second. The two men spent a couple of nights up their looking but found nothing. On their way out they discovered that the lion had been taken by a local hunter. J inspected the animal and determined the animal had been shot from 10 yards away (at night). Also, the man had only a single shot gun and two shells. And some balls.

story: A bunch of wageni (tourists) were on safari and sitting around the campfire. Suddenly the guide stopped the conversation and told everyone not to panic. When he took the flashlight and shone it around the perimeter, there were nine pairs of eyes looking back. They had happened along and pulled close to the fire to enjoy the heat. One of the tourists asked if he could take a picture and the guide slapped him across the face.

kitu ninapenda kiswahili

 Things I like about Swahili.

• saying: Even the calves knock each other over. This was used one time when josey and i were making fun of each other. It must be a cultural thing 'cause i'm not seeing it as pithy commentary.
• There is a different word to differentiate regular farts from "silent but deadly" farts.
• The word for drunk and the word for tired have an implied past tense because you can't just be drunk or tired right this very second without having built to that. (unless you're at a rugby fundraiser with an empty stomach... or, and I haven't done this, drinking banana beer)
• The word for clubs in a deck of cards is goat shit because it looks like a clump of goat shit.
• For a while, the gardener would great me with "hujambo say sijambo". I thought this was a very elaborate greeting that I had not heard of but she was really telling me that I need to say sijambo when she greets me with hujambo. 
• piga ________. This means beat and is always used in conjunction with another word.
• piga decki - beat the deck. wash the floor. comes from washing the deck of a ship. 
• piga rangi - beat the colours. paint. 
• piga makofi - beat your hands. clap. remember by: what do want to do when someone makes you coffee? 
• piga simu - beat the phone. call me!
• piga pasi - beat the iron. do the ironing. 
• my personal favourite: pika migoti. beat the knees. kneel. 

We were planning on flying to Gombe today for a visit to see chimpanzees tomorrow. Those plans have fallen through as the only plane that makes the trip is in Kigoma being repaired. It was touch and go anyway as the runway is not tarmac but rather clay. If there are heavy rains (!!) then they can't land or take off. Josey may take off for the weekend to Zanzibar and leave me here. Some friends are planning on attending a toga party tomorrow night. I appreciate the exuberance of youth but I don't think that I and my grey temples can pull it off gracefully (and I appreciate that toga parties are not about grace, but you know what I mean).  In a couple of hours we will head to Slipway to watch the sunset and eat a lot of sashimi.