A few more pics

If there is a goddess of grocery shopping, then I am probably one of her most devout undeclared disciples. My brief pilgrimage to her local temple (popular among expats, which is reflected in the stock and the prices) resulted in the fine bounty below.

To me, these constitute "the basics" along with the fruit and veggies I got (carrots, pears, and a mango, not photographed). Starting at the left and going clockwise, I've got German "fitness" bread -- full of sunflower seeds and rye flour --, a spiced cocoa mix, three types of organic Tanzanian honey (and a bottle of pistachio flavoring propped against them), British Ryvita crackers, a bag of shredded coconut, the only nail clipper I could find in seven boxes worth of clippers that had actual clipping power, and good old oatmeal.

A very important note about the unphotographed fruit: the mangoes are cheaper than the carrots here. No, the carrots are not expensive. And, yes, the mango was absolutely perfect. That does, of course, mean I am officially in love with Tanzania.

Next picture: a fuzzy lizard! This guy looks as though he has mold growing on his back. Who knows? Maybe he does. Total length, nose to tail: about two inches. These guys are super cute and super fast, and they play the same hide-and-go-seek game that squirrels at home play, so catching one on a tree is (theoretically) as easy as running up to the tree and reaching around it. (For any of my friends in China who have never tried to catch a squirrel: when a squirrel is threatened, it does not run as far away as it can from the threat, but tends to run to the other side of the nearest tree so that it is out of sight of the threat. Since it does not necessarily run up the tree, one can run to the tree the squirrel was last seen on, reach around the trunk, and expect to find the wad of hyperventilating fur that thought it had just escaped further detection.)

The next picture is the closest thing to Chingrish I have seen yet. It is not exactly lol-funny, so my hopes of having even a few really hilarious bad-translation pics from this trip have basically been dashed. Thankfully, there are copious amounts of cheap mangoes to make up for any disappointment I felt after coming to this realization.
Time of this posting: 3:45am. The time difference and I are definitely not getting along.

As seen below, I am staying at the Markham hotel. I climbed out on the roof (there were shoes out there, so I figured other people did it, too) and something about the proximity of the signage demanded a picture.

The landscape is exactly what I expected from the outskirts of a sub-Saharan African city, but I would not have expected a hotel to be in an area like this. My camera was hiding in the deepest crevasse of my backpack when I went to the city center, so no comparison pics yet.

I liked how the scene below picked up on natural and man-made contributions to the landscape as well as contrasts between informally constructed shacks and well-designed fortresses (I'm not sure what the neighboring building is for -- "fortress" is only used here for imagery's sake).

Meal one: Breakfast at the hotel. Rule 1 is about to be thoroughly trampled with the two simple wedges of papaya seen in the bowl to the left, right next to the round slice of pineapple. Without knowing how well washed the still-attached skin is, I not only risk the contamination of the papaya I eat, but the foods, utensils, or fingers that come in contact with the skin of the papaya. But, it is done. (And, admittedly, it will be done again because there is no way I am going to get in the habit of turning down fresh tropical fruit -- as in, sold right off the streets after having been macheted from a local tree. It is just not one of those things I am physically or psychologically capable of.) The plate holds (clockwise from an obvious starting point) a hard-boiled brown egg, fried potatoes with julienned tomatoes and green pepper, sickly sweet canned beans, and chicken gizzards cooked with carrots and peppers.

I wish I had a picture of the Subway sandwich I got for lunch. Any of you could easily recreate it, though. Go to a Subway, any Subway, and ask to take a photo of a sliced 6" wheat sub roll. It will look exactly like my sandwich. I didn't know it was possible to put on so few toppings that you couldn't see even the smallest dent made in the roll by the toppings, but it can be done, even with every vegetable except jalapeno peppers added. Anyone who has seen my usual sub -- the type where the bread only makes an obligatory show of trying to keep all the toppings together in a loose union of veggie goodness, and from which a good portion of tomatoes, peppers, olives, and lettuce tend to slip out the back with each bite -- should understand the depths of my disappointment. Ah, well. At least I won't be tempted by Subway for the rest of my stay.

After breakfast, I ran errands all morning with the unexpected and much-appreciated guidance of a hotel employee, Faustine. If you say his name the way he does (F+Austin), it sounds much more masculine than the common pronunciation (which rhymes with Christine), and strikes me as a very cool name. Anyway, Faustine gave me some impromptu Swahili lessons, descriptions of various types of theft, and an idea of what kind of foods I would have to look forward to when eating out or cooking in my own kitchen in Zanzibar. I didn't realize until about noon that he had been working since 5pm the night before and was using his time off to help me after his 15-hour shift!

Upon realizing how completely worn out Faustine must have been, I finally released the poor man and came back to enjoy a victory lap in the local grocery store. I assume it is the store's proximity to the US Embassy that amplifies the Western-ness of its stock. Prices are equal to or greater than those in the States for most things (especially brand name things like Kellogg cereals and Laughing Cow cheeses), but I found everything I needed (a journal with a hard cover, a converter so I could plug in my electronics, and shampoo). It was after that when I got that terribly disappointing sandwich, but at least talking to the employees while they made the sandwich was fun. I came home ready to take a much deserved shower (admittedly, standing outside for 10 minutes is probably enough to need a shower around here), but decided to write this first in the breeze of my air conditioner. If this is winter weather, I am pretty sure I would have no hope of surviving a summer here.

======

While writing this post, I fell asleep and slept through to bedtime. I didn't have much trouble transitioning to China time when I moved to Zhuhai, but I don't think this time change will be nearly as forgiving to me. I have included a world clock at the bottom of the page so you can keep track of what time it is here in TZ and hopefully simplify any time zone change calculations my posts may demand you to do.

For now, I am going to try to get back to sleep, but tomorrow (after my orientation at work) I should be able to fill everyone in on what I will be doing most of the time I am here. =)

Safely in Dar es Salaam!

I arrived late last night, was the first through customs (apparently the only person who came with just carry-on luggage), was immediately greeted by two dozen signs for other hotels and passengers before seeing RACHEL scrawled oh-so-welcomingly on one, quickly changed my most accessible American $45 worth of bills for 54,000 shillings at the airport, and was taken for a friendly drive to the hotel Markham. The drive cost nearly $30, so I have few shillings remaining, but since breakfast was free this morning, I should not run into a lot of trouble before finding a bank where I can change more money. Speaking of free breakfast, don't tell my advisor that I already managed to break the first rule of eating in Africa (Rule 1: Don't eat raw fruits and vegetables unless you can buy them whole and wash them yourself -- and, even then, expect some problems). I didn't realize that it borders impossible for me to turn down pineapple, papaya, and bananas in the morning. The avocado and mango juice was easier to turn down; no matter where in the world I eat avocado, I will have a bad day thereafter (allergy? intolerance? I don't know what it is exactly, but it makes its presence known). I hope that Rule 2 was not ''Don't eat gizzardy foods, entrails, and other bits that you'd pay less than $2 a pound for in the States'' -- because that, along with fried potatoes, was the rest of breakfast. Quite tasty, actually. I wasn't expecting that.

I have't seen much of the city; I don't even know which part of it I am in. I have emptied my backpack and look forward to exploring all day.
=== Yes, Mom, I am wearing sunscreen. ===
Email loads slowly at the hotel's internet cafe (which I just discovered on my way out), so my apologies for delayed responses to all the emails I am still looking forward to reading.

The goals for today: buy water, plug converters, and a SIM card. I figure I can survive with those basics and move on from there.

Nate ~ remember how you always said I should try a Big Mac in China, and it would be the best Big Mac of my life? I am hoping all the logic that applied to Big Macs in China applies to Subway sandwiches here, because there is one right down the street --- and for all my desire to try lots and lots of African food, I also want to know how a Subway sandwich is done here. And unlike Chinese students trying take-out Chinese food in the States, I don't think that I'll come away wondering how a classic could be so thoroughly ruined with geographic translation.

=)

I promised photos in every post after the first, but that was with the silly assumption that I could use my laptop to write these updates. Bad assumptions make for bad promises. Sorry.

Off Again!

ECHO! -- ECHO -- ECHO...

Is anyone out there still reading this? Having left China for the States, I let my blog fall dormant because, despite my many adventures on the streets of Baltimore, I thought a daily blog there would be less captivating to my particular audience than analogous stories abroad. Thankfully, however, I am off on another international adventure -- this time in Zanzibar!

Zanzibar = archipelago off the coast and officially a part of Tanzania, much like Hawai'i in the States, or Hainan in China.

One thing I learned from being in China is that I do not experience my adventures the way most blogging expats describe experiencing theirs, so I don't feel as though I have a whole lot to base my expectations of my summer's travels on. That said, here is what I am thinking right now:

- I don't speak Kiswahili, except to lie and say, "I understand Kiswahili," or ask, "Do you understand English?" -- which, of course, is more usefully asked in English.

- I will be in Zanzibar during the winter, which is relatively dry and cool. A Google search indicates that this translates to upper 60s at night and mid-80s during the day with little rain in between. Yes! (victorious fist pump)

- I think I will be able to get by pretty handily with just as much as I could pack in my carry-on luggage, but I would have been more confident about the whole packing ordeal if I had known what kind of clothes I'd be comfortable in there (according to the local standards, climate, and my daily activities) and what amenities I would be likely to miss. This is one area of my life where only experience can make me confident about the choices I make, not advice.

Last-minute mania is about to commence. Pictures will, from here on out, be a staple in every post. Kwaheri!