A Day in the Life (UPDATED w/Photo)

Bed net

I was planning to do a "Day in the Life" of my Africa trip today in honor of, well, myself given that today is my birthday.  It started off well enough with me taking pictures of my morning routine and environs and scribbling little interesting or funny notes to remember later.  The problem is that today was pretty boring as far as days on this trip go, so the whole Day in the Life theme was kind of shot by early afternoon.

my lovely view

The basics: being awoken by the sound of mysterious rushing water outside my window and not remembering I was sleeping under a mosquito net.  Taking my fistful of pills to prevent all sorts of hidden threats as well as for a chronically bad knee and festering (B. Noone that one is for you) wound on my leg.  Asking for an iron to in order to iron my specially purchased "wrinkle free" work pants, dress shirt and blazer (such bullshit) and instead having someone insist on taking my things to be ironed only to return minutes later insisting they be washed given how dirty they are.  (Too bad I didn't have time for all that).

Gangrenous?

Pressure packed for freshness

Half a dozen daily pills

 After donning my newly pressed but apparently dirty business threads, I wandered the streets looking for dress shoes since I no longer have any, only to be laughed out of a half dozen stores when I asked if they carried size 12 and a half.   So now it's nearly the time of my first official meeting and I have to show up wearing flip flops while in a blazer and khakis with a button down.  I just hoped that the person I am meeting with was too dazzled by how pressed I was not to notice my feet.

My first meeting is at a local mall, which on the inside looks like a mall in middle America except for the names on the stores.  A quick samosa for breakfast washed down with a lukewarm orange Fanta I sit with a local reporter with Bloomberg and we cover a range of topics from government corruption to foreign investment to the best wildlife viewing spots in Arusha in the north.

We part after a solid two hours and I make a beeline for the local version of KFC to wolf down lunch before battling the long line at the Vodacom store in order to hopefully, finally, solve my internet connectivity issues with a USB modem.

400,000 Tanzanian Shillings (about $US250)

After a successful but painful transaction, I make my way to my next meeting with an unnamed government official.  Two hours after starting the discussion, which was very fruitful, I am getting tired of hearing the gentleman speak as I start day dreaming about a celebratory cold beer and cigar.  However, now that his office has pretty much cleared out, he starts talking in code about bribes, consulting agreements, and advisory board positions for his extra curricular activities.  I don't want to be rude and he could be helpful to my work, so I just nod and say "oh really?" a lot as I try not to completely lose it for the next hour.

Three hours after we started, I am finally free and out the door and on the street.  Now I really need a beer.

A tuk-tuk driver and I haggle over a ride back to my hotel (haggling is pretty much my favorite thing to do) and after we agree on a price I climb aboard and we speed off into traffic.

Once the driver goes in circles for the third time I finally cut my losses and decide to walk the rest of the way since I know better where we are in relation to my hotel than he.  I wander through outdoor markets buzzing with patrons gathering fresh ingredients for the evening meal, hot, tired, hungry and still in my f*kg sandals.  A cold orange Fanta (my new obsession) to take back to my hotel and all is right with the world.

Back in my hotel dealing with emails and the power goes out.  Perhaps its a sign that it's time to stop working and have some birthday cheer.

I make my way to the hotel restaurant off the lobby.  It is drab and dark with the primary light coming from the huge blaring television in the corner.  I am the only customer.

Greeted by a very friendly woman in a fabulously studded and shiny hajib, I take a seat near the TV and start flipping through the channels.  I settled on "The Devil's Own" and the safe option of spaghetti bolognase and, you guessed it, an orange Fanta (no beer at the hotel because it is owned my Muslims).

Happily sitting alone, droning out to a fairly old but decent flick, my little birthday celebration is interrupted by another patron who enters the restaurant.  A black woman of probably 35 years old in a shockingly low cut dress and a great deal of make up sits at the table next to mine, smiles, and says "karibu", which means "welcome" in Swahili.  The following is the conversation that transpires over the next several minutes:

Me: Hello.
Woman:  Hello.
Woman:  Hello
Me.  Hi.
Woman:  Are we friends?
Me:  Excuse me?
Woman:  We're friends.
Me:  Yes (laughing) okay.  Nice to meet you.
Woman:  I love you.
Me:  I'm sorry?
Woman:  I love you
Me:  (awkward laughter) Okay.  Thank you.
Woman:  Do you love me?
Me:  Umm, no, not really.
Woman:  You should love me.

It goes on like this for a while as I grow more uncomfortable and she becomes more explicit.  Once I make it clear that I am not interested a large gentleman enters the restaurant and after a brief exchange in Swahili she says goodbye and walks out. (UPDATE:  photo below added the following day when she was waiting for me in the lobby of my hotel.)

Miriam

After a very satisfying plate of pasta and a cold Fanta, I adjourn to my room.

Preparations for night time:  bed net in place, pre-emptive roach spray deployed, cigar lit and the internet is up and running.

While out and about and realizing my "Day in the Life" idea wasn't going to pan out, I thought of writing about something more weighty like my perennial struggle with and search for purpose or something profound about the daily toil of the average African trying to eek out a living or how the leaders elected to serve the public good in emerging democracies consistently fail to succeed in providing the most basic services to their citizens.  But after quietly and simply basking in the good wishes of the people in my life, I decide those things can wait for another day.

I finally have a chance to peruse my Facebook and am humbled by the birthday wishes from family and friends past and present from places near and far (mostly far).  After a fairly typical day, I am welcomed home by little bits of data on my screen that have reminded me that I am a very lucky guy not just today but every day.

Today is my birthday, and I am thankful for all of the gifts I have received. The short notes and small gestures have made their way to me and left their mark.  Thank you all.

Regularly scheduled programming including a pretty good story about a 40-hour bus ride from Lusaka, Zambia to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania to resume tomorrow!

Yours,

David