Fake Ray and Fake Mall

Arusha, February 1, 2018, Thursday

A new month!  January went by too quickly, and since February is a short month, I’m already feeling the pressure of getting more done here before we return to Spokane in March. Our lives here are very different than when we were with student groups. in 2012 and 2014. Then, there were constant demands for our time and attention and almost uncountable activities and experiences to join. Now, we are accountable to nobody but ourselves, Thank God, I will never ever have to take another safari to a game park! John is less able to exist without constant activity, so he takes long walks and edits a collection of personal essays by the large wave of Mennonite conscientious objectors who came to Africa during the1960s and 70s. The direction of many lives were completely altered by their experiences in Africa. John’s and mine certainly were.

We were passing a very quiet, peaceful morning on the garden terrace, when Ray appeared with the police detective who has supposedly been working on the Fake Ray case. Finally after three weeks and countless broken appointments, the guy decided to appear, so we stopped what we were doing and spent about an hour with him.  There was nothing to add to the documents and statements we had already supplied, but he insisted that he needed specifically to interview me. I did my best to answer his questions even though I had difficulty understanding his English. He also said a lot about the thin police resources and lack of equipment and the need for better training. He explained how cumbersome and time-consuming going through Interpol would be—why Interpol?—and how he could write letters to the four banks which may have handed Fake Ray the money and maybe get some answers in three more weeks. I eventually ordered a Coke for him, and kept hoping he would just go away, as I thought it was obvious that he wanted money to pursue the case further. Eventually, he stood up and shook our hands and walked to Ray’s car. Then John and Ray had a whispered conversation, some money changed hands, and Real Ray and the police detective left.

I am not pleased with how this Fake Ray case has gone. Getting the police involved was not what I wanted, but Ray was hot for justice, and John thought it was possible that the police might pursue the case.  I had no doubt that bribes would need to be paid for the police to do anything, and to me that is just throwing more money away after the lost school fees. Plus, I don’t pay bribes, and John doesn’t either—except I know he did today.  What makes men so riled up about “justice”? The school fees are gone and will never be returned, so while we may be able to learn some hard lessons for the future, we can’t restore the past. I just want to drop the whole thing!

Once the police detective left and I had calmed down a bit, we decided to make a trip of discovery out beyond the African Cultural Heritage Museum in the Sakina area to the new AIM Mall. People have told us that it is very large, modern, and exciting, with upscale shops, a food court, and a movie theater. We thought we would have Ray drive us there for lunch and whatever else caught our fancy. I had forgotten how very far it is to drive out there, and by the time we arrived, it was already well after 2:00.

What can I say? The mall was very large, very upscale, and totally empty of customers. Christmas music was playing over the intercom. The shops varied from a Skinology spa, toy electric car dealership, Tanzanite showrooms, bedding and furniture salesrooms, high end electronics store, and a men’s clothing store with 3 shirts on sale for 250,000 Tsch ($114). At one end was a shiny new Village Market grocery store with very wide aisles and an enticing cafe area. One section of the store had a fondue set for $150 and other dishes and small appliances at equally high prices. Upstairs, at the other end was a luxuriously appointed spa offering haircuts, etc., manicures, pedicures, and a variety of massages. The staff was all in place but there were absolutely no customers. I said I would return for a haircut after lunch. The electricity had gone off just as we got on the ascending escalator, so we had to clomp down the descending side to get to the food court. (Check things out on the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/aimmall/)

Looking down on the entrance lobby.

Looking out into the central open courtyard.

The food court is shaded by awning.

It was after 3;30 before we were seated outside on the veranda running along side of the half dozen or so restaurants. Waiters from every restaurant descended on us with their menus, and eventually John decided on a pizza from one place and I on a shawarma plate from another. The food was okay, but not great, and the prices were a tad on the high side. Sitting outside was pleasant though there was nothing to see but the other side of the mall, which is still being completed and has no businesses open except the movie theater. Since movies are only shown in the evenings except on the weekends, we couldn’t see “The Post,” which is currently playing there.

As promised, I returned to the beauty salon and was speedily seated and clipped by Tony who comes from Kenya.  I don’t know where Tony got his training, but he seemed very comfortable with wazungu hair. We chatted about places and people we both knew in Kenya, and Tony was surprised that one of the rising political figures in Kenya, Alfred Mutua, was once our student. It was only after I put my glasses back on that I realized that Tony had buzzed the sides of my head. Oh well. It will have grown back by the time we return to Spokane.

After a quick return to the grocery store to pick up a few items—chamomile flavored toothpaste, for example—and to enjoy the luxury of a scoop of ice cream, we called Ray and went outside to wait for him. When he asked me what I thought about the mall and I said once was enough, he laughed. It’s uncertain where the targeted customers are since almost no one could afford what’s for sale in the shops. Furthermore, most of the wealthier people live on the opposite side of Arusha toward Njiro. It seems as if this is another foolish attempt to imitate Europe or America instead of investing in a more pragmatic and beneficial project.

P.S. Ray reported that Anita is taking her medicine and feeling much better.