On Sunday we took a bus to a city called Njombe, which is much higher and colder than Iringa. I'm not sure why we're here, but I guess that's the way things go in Africa.
The bus trip itself was an experience. It was basically a five-hour daladala ride. Honestly, this must be the way they transport people to Hell. People were stuffed five or six to a four-seat row, and since there were no aisles you'd get stepped on when someone wanted to get out. Everybody also had a baby in their lap at one point or another and no less than seven armpits in the face. One of my many seat companions rested his chin on my shoulder when I was reading Why Men Love Bitches (not my book, ok?) and kept telling me how interesting it was. He actually asked if he could have it. I said no. At one point the bus slowed down and a woman on the side of the road ran up to the driver's side window and handed him a CHICKEN. The driver just passed the chicken back to another passenger who passed it back to another passenger and so on until someone stuffed it under a seat somewhere. I guess since they are 70% feathers, chickens are pretty compactible.
Njombe is ok...not quite as picturesque as Iringa. The new host family is nice, but they keep trying to feed me large quantities of really sketchy meat. Also my host mother keeps asking why I'm not married and/or having children right now.
The night before I left for Njombe I actually went to a wedding in Iringa, which was a long, drawn out affair. Everyone dances all the time at Tanzanian weddings. If you want to go somewhere, you have to dance there. We danced up to toast the bride and groom. Then they danced around with the wedding cake for a while. Then the bride's family danced over to the groom's family, then the groom's family danced over to the bride's family, then everyone danced in a conga line up to the bride to give her presents. Then the bride and groom danced to each table to thank everyone. Then we all danced to the buffet, and finally, 17 hours later, we danced to a taxi and went home.
Alright, goodbye for now! I have to PAY for my internet here so I can't write every day!
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Liz, I love this!!! Keep the posts coming (when you have spare time and internet)!!!! What an awesome adventure you are having! Enjoy every second of it! I miss you!
ReplyDeleteLiz,
ReplyDeleteHere is a club sandwich, pickles, and fries; enjoy!
-Zach
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Two step? the worm? La Macarena? The electric slide?
ReplyDeleteWhat's the preferred method of dance at an Iringan wedding?
Hope you're having fun Liz. Keep away from those poisonous Kenyan flies I seem to keep hearing about. Mom and Dad say hi too. I tried to teach them how to post on a blog but you know how they can be.
I will be disappointed if you don't return with a fashion statement leopard skin and accompanying machete.
Mom's recovering from her leg surgury and what we'll call the "Texas sickness," a debilitating state bacterial export afflicting Texans and surrounding residents. Its devastation is blamed for both terms of George W Bush's presidency. Thankfully Mom's better now.
Dad's not out of the woods yet though; he's still recovering from helping mom recover. Those evil Texans struck again!
And I'm cryogenically frozen up here in Boston. You'll be happy to note there are no thawed chickens or roosters in this city. Instead, the trash trucks wake you up right under your room at 6:45am, stuck in front of a snow drift. The sweet smell of Boston.
Anyway keep on having fun. The Tanzineans seem like happy dancing people with a lot of chickens. What more do you need?