I forgot to blog about some of my experiences the week or so that my car was in the shop. I don't often think of myself as spoiled by having a car, but after going without one for a week, I have a new appreciation for how most everyone else here lives.
The procedure for getting into town includes a 20 minute walk down our dusty Njiro road (not paved, of course) to a dala-dala stop. (Those are the min-buses that are supposed to carry about 14-16 passengers. The record that I've heard of is about 32!) There are very few regulations governing these, as the police are part-owners in most of them, so they are often overcrowded and under-serviced. There's always room for one more paying customer! They are very cheap, however, so that's the plus side.
After getting on the dala, and miraculously getting a seat, you bounce along into town, another 20 minutes away. When you're ready to get off, you either signal the conda (conductor, who takes up money and shouts out the window for new customers) or bang on the side of the dala. You get off as close as possible to where you want to go, then walk the rest of the way.
I did this several times that week, once getting a lift part of the way into town, then taking my computer to the shop, then walking another 30 minutes to the Impala, for a well-deserved (I thought!) swim, then repeating the process back home. On one of those trips, a young TZ man started up a conversation (it's pretty obvious I'm not from around here!), and he knew one of my housemates, Corinne, so we chatted till time to get off the dala. Then he walked me all the way to Joshua, carrying my swim bag, so I wouldn't have to go alone or carry it myself. We had a great conversation, and, of course, he wanted my cell phone number at the end (everyone always wants your cell phone number!). Another time, a young man got off with Sarah and me and also walked us all the way to Joshua, this time carrying Sarah's bag. We think he was practicing his English, as he works in an Arusha hotel as a waiter and cook.
However, the most intense experience was getting to church that Sunday. I'm on the hospitality committee at church, and I'm the one responsible for bringing the coffee, tea, sugar, milk, napkins, etc. since I have a car to transport it all in...usually! I also give people lifts, most often Anna, a former student at the pastor's college at Joshua who still lives "on campus", along with Don and Sarah. That particular Sunday, I asked Don if he was going because I needed him to help carry things! He and I loaded up backpacks, and the 3 of us did the dala-dala thing into town. We had to transfer to another dala, but didn't really know which one would take us the fartherest (is that a word?), and, ultimately, picked one that didn't go far enough. We were already running later than I would have liked, as the coffee time is before church starts, and I try to get there at least 30 minutes early. We were trudging along yet another dusty, unpaved road, when, thankfully, Bruce Bone (from Imara) and his family stopped and offered us a lift! When I showed up, there was great rejoicing! Funnily, the thing they were all the happiest to see were the napkins! Tanzanians don't like to touch some foods, except the ones that are meant to be eaten by hand, and those 2 things never make sense to me! For instance, their national dish, ugali( which is the consistency of mashed potatoes) is supposed to be eaten with greens, with your fingers. But, cookies or pieces of cake need a napkin! So, there had not been any "bites" put out, while they waited for the napkins! Later, they asked, could I come earlier next Sunday! I said, yes, if I had my car!
After church we got a lift back into town, had lunch, did some grocery shopping, and took the dala home. The last part of the whole thing is usually to take a shower because you're so completely dirty and dusty!
Made me really appreciate my car when I finally got it back!
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