Our internet service has been horrible today. For some reason, Kundayo’s usual slow, but functioning, system just would not connect strongly enough for me to upload or send anything. And, worse yet, my Smile hotspot gave out. Apparently, John had bought only a week’s worth of service. I guess his brain really was not alert at all when he did that. Anyway, I got really frustrated and then mad at myself for caring so much about internet in the first place. I’ve been ruined by the instant connection life we all seem to rely upon now. (Breathe, I tell myself, Breathe deeply, and let it go.)
Today, we decided to go downtown to Rushda, a very small, crowded grocery store stuck in the middle of an Indian section. Right across the street is the best spice store in Arusha, and on the corner is Dolly’s Patissierie, where John likes to buy samosas. To enter or exit Rushada, one must run a gauntlet of market women trying very eagerly to sell their mangoes, onions, bananas, papayas, or whatever. This time some were even selling strawberries and raspberries, which actually looked very good and really weren’t obscenely expensive. I did not buy any if the berries but rather got two beautiful mangoes.
Inside the store, which was perhaps the size of a large master bedroom, had close set aisles stocked with almost anything one would ever need. There was even a section of Pampers, and I was able to find a silicone spatula, which I had forgotten to pack. The pasta and sauces aisle had the most variety, and there were even many kinds of cheeses in the cooler. I even look at the knew better than to look at the cheese prices, which are usually on par with gold prices. So, I focused on items such as pasta, tomato paste, oil, vinegar, dish soap, etc. I even got 2 frozen chickens, and John bought a small container of Azam ice cream. All for very reasonable prices.
Once done at Rushda, John and Mary Lou walked to the corner to buy samosas for our lunch. Ray and I returned with all our goods, leaving the other two to walk all the way back. On our way back to Kundayo, I asked Ray to make a small detour to Meat King, which has moved from its space downtown to a big house in a compound near The Blue Heron. It seemed odd to enter a former luxury dwelling to buy stew beef.
Back at Kundayo, Maso and other workers were emptying out the storage room in a move to make sure they banished all rats. It looked as if they were setting up for a garage sale, but they were just going through all the boxes and sacks of items people have left behind when they intend to return. I forgot to ask Maso if they found more damage or if we had been the only victims of rat rage.
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| Hunting for rat damage. |
After lunch and a rest, I spent much of my time futilely fighting with a noncooperative internet system. Here at Kundayo, I am liberated from most housework. A young woman comes every morning to make our bed, change our towels, clean our floors, and even do the dishes if we don’t. Also because we can only do hand laundry in a big plastic bucket with a plunger, anything other than underwear and socks is washed by the Kundayo staff and returned neatly pressed and folded. Life is very good here.
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| Agnes cleans and our room every morning. |
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