Drama and Tourists

Thursday, February 7, 2019

This morning, John decided to go downtown to get a haircut at his usual barber there. It has been quite hot here for over a week, so John took a dalla-dalla instead of walking all the way. After the haircut, he walked to Rhusda to buy more of his favorite mango jam, which he consumes at an alarming rate while he’s here.  He also stopped by Dolly’s Patisserie to buy samosas for our lunch. Then, in a surprising change of routine, he took a bajaji (the covered 3-wheeler) all the way back to Kundayo. A bajaji ride is much cheaper—at least 60%less—than a taxi ride, and they are safer that the piki-piki motorbikes. So far, I haven’t used a bajaji  myself because I don’t want to betray Ray. Still, the cost difference is significant. (https://www.dpmco.com/en/product/three-wheeler/bajaj-re.html)

I spent my morning trying to stay cool out on the garden terrace. As usual, Beatrice, one of our concierges, greeted me, but she didn’t seem her usual ebullient self. Everything was peaceful and quiet until near noon, when I heard a young man’s voice saying, “No. I’m sorry. Please. No. I’m sorry.” over and over and over. I finally saw a young man exit from the front office area as Beatrice brushed by him and hurriedly went into Mama Kundayo’s private area. The young man kept standing near the entrance of Mama’s garden with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He stood there right in plain sight of all of us in the courtyard or terrace areas for a long, long time. Finally Beatrice emerged from Mama’s garden and the young man knelt in front of her making some sort of petition. (Some parked cars partially obscured our view!) Then, they rushed to the opposite side of our courtyard to Mazo’s office. John had returned home while this was happening, and like Mary Lou and me was very curious about what was happening. Yet, we didn’t want to embarrass Beatrice by gawking. While we three wazungu were positing all sort of scenarios, Beatrice and the young man emerged from Mazo’s office and walked right by us toward the outer gate. I didn’t see the flowers anymore and still have no idea what might have been going. However, I heard that Beatrice will have tomorrow off. (Stay tuned.)

Mary Lou and I were scheduled to be at the Albino Peacemakers workshop at 2:00 when a tour group was scheduled to stop by. We wanted to hear the presentation which Terry or Sister Martha makes to such groups and observe how the women interact with wazungu tourists. In keeping with African time, the group arrived over 30 minutes late. The 16 tourists and their Tanzanian driver/guide sat in usual sewing area, out of the sun—the women had moved their Singers out into the shade—while Terry talked about the causes of albinism, the unusually high rate in Tanzania, the social stigma, health perils, and the danger of being killed or mutilated for body parts used in magic. Then, the group was dismissed to interact with the women and buy the many different items the women sew. Mary Lou stalked about taking notes on which comments or questions in English were troublesome for the women, so she will have a great lesson for them tomorrow. The whole event was very successful, and the women made $180 gross. After deducting the cost of materials, overhead, and other expenses, each woman will possibly net $10.

Sauda moved her sewing machine out into the shade.

Just what you need to store toilet paper in your own outhouse or cabin.

I called Ray to come for the return trip to Kundayo. Terry rode with us to the Impala roundabout, where we dropped her at a dalla-dalla stop before continuing on to Perfect Choice Supermarket so Mary Lou could buy an enormous quantity of water, 10 10-liter jugs of water.
(I think the heat has addled her mind somewhat.)  Thank goodness Ray helped us carry all 10  jugs to Mary Lou’s door.

The remainder of the late afternoon and evening passed uneventfully. I was grateful to have leftover chicken and pasta to heat up for dinner, and John cooked some amazing fresh green beans. Then, as I should have expected, he fixed us vanilla ice cream and mangoes for dessert. Whenever he is the one to pick up groceries, he splurges on cashews and ice cream, both of which I deem too expensive to buy.